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Issue 47.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1988. ; R~vw.w ~:oR R~L~C~ff)us (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is ediled in collaboration with lhe facuhy members of the Dcpartmcnl of Theological Studies of St. U)uis University. The edito-rial offices are located a~ Room 428:3601 Lindcll Blvd.: St. [~uis, Me. 63108-3393. R~v~w R~a.ffm~us is owned by the Missouri Province Educalional lnslilule of the Sociely of Jesus, St. [~uis, Me. 01988 by R~v~w FO~ R~JG~OUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: add $5.00 per year (surface mail); airmail (Book Rale): $20.00 per year. For subsc~iptioh orders ur change uf address, write: REVIEW ~'o~ RELIt;IOUS: 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 JanuarylFebruary, 1988 Volume 47 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor shuuld be sent to R~:wt:w FOa R~:L[t:mus; Ruom 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence abuut 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 urde'red frum Rt:\'~t:w voa Rt:L~t;n~us; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major pnrtion of each issue is also available on cassette recurdings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New Yurk, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 47, 1988 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Septem-ber, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Mi-crofilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48 ! 06. Copyright© 1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Consecrated Lives of Apostolic Religious Today Mary Linscott, S.N.D. Sister Mary is on the staff of the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (CRIS), specializing in the area of constitutions and general chapters. Her previous contri-bution to these pages was "The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Gov-ernment in the Revision of Constitutions." Sister Mary resides at her motherhouse, Suore di Nostra Signora di Namur; Largo Berechet, 4; 00152, Roma, Italy. When a group of sisters came to my office recently to discuss a theme for a presentation, we had little difficulty in finding one, and the focus seemed to sharpen almost of its own accord. The topic of religious con-secration was an evident subject for at lea~t three main reasons: I) its in-trinsic importance; 2) its importance in renewal; 3) its importance as be-ing at the heart of much of the crisis in religious life since the Second Vatican Council. It is also the key to future development. We concentrated on the consecration of religious, and more espe-cially of sisters whose institutes, are dedicated to works of the apostolate. We assumed as a starting point, that all religious of whatever style of life are both contemplative and apostolic by the fact of their vocation and profession. They express the contemplation and the apostolic effective-ness differently in accordance with the founding gift of their institutes or of the branch of the institute to which they belong, but the dimensions of contemplation and of apostolate are common to all. Having agreed on this, we addressed ourselves to those religious who express their contem-plation and apostolate in an active dedication to works of mission. For the sake of brevity, we called them apostolic religious. 3 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 Three lines0of thought emerged: 1) the challenge to sisters of apos-tolic life twenty years after the Second Vatican Council; 2) consecration as the heart of apostolic religious life; 3) living that consecration in the Church today. The Challenge to Apostolic Religious Twenty Years After Vatican II A Matter of Identity The challenge facing many apostolic religious is a matter of identity. The fruitful period for the foundation of religious congregations of sis-ters dedicated to apostolic works was approximately from the end of the French Revolution to the first third of the present century. Emigration, the exploration of new continents, the consequent expansion of the Church, the needs created by the industrial revolution, and the political and social developments of the nineteenth century, all called for a Chris-tian service inspired by the works of mercy. The need was met largely and often heroically by institutes of sisters who responded to the call and founding gift of God by undertaking works which expressed the grace ,' he gave: works of education, health care, social rescue, pastoral serv-ice. At that time, few other people were concerned about these areas of need. The sisters were identified, exteriorly at least, by their works, their dress, their convents, their mode of life. They were easily recognized, usually respected, and sometimes put on a pedestal. But whatever the re-action to them, their own identity was secure. They knew what they were about and what they had come to do. Their future seemed predictable, and a young woman presenting herself as a postulant could have a rea-sonable expectation of what her life of serv.ice would be like. The fact that security of works has changed is a natural historical de-velopment. Evolution is necessary and inevitable. Some religious who identified their vocation with what they were doing, certainly had a cri-sis over this. But even the extraordinarily rapid rate of change which has marked the evolution of apostolic works in the past thirty years, was not enough in itself to challenge the religious of apostolic life as they have been challenged since 1966. The issues are deeper. Two great insights of Vatican 1I have had a profound effect on the sense of identity of the apostolic religious: the universal call to holiness, stated in Lumen Gentium, chapter 5, numbers 39-42, and the criteria for renewal of religious life, ~;tated in Perfectae Caritatis, number 2. The universal call to holiness blurred the traditional notion of religious life as a state of perfection, and the criteria for renewal sent religious back to the gospel, .the primitive inspiration of their institute and the changed Consecrated Apostolic Lives conditions of our times with unexpected results. Let us look briefly at these two insights of the Council since they have both obliged sisters of apostolic life to go tothe roots of their identity and to find these in their religious consecration. The Universal Call to Holiness Originally chapters 5 and 6. of Lumen Gentium were conceived as a single entity so that the universal call to holiness actually did embrace all the members of the Church with no chapter distinction between laity and religious. Even in the present separated presentation, the thought of the two chapters is unified and continuous. Lumen Gentium sees~the Church as the people of God, chapter II) hierarchical (chapter III) lay (chapter IV) and called to holiness (chapters V and VI). The Code of Canon Law follows approximately the same pattern, dealing first with Christ's Faithful and then with the hierarchy and institutes of consecrated life. The decree on the Apostolate of Lay People (Apostolicam Actuosi-tatem, 18, XI 1965) develops much more richly the role of the laity in the Church, and Gaudium et Spes opens.up clearly and strongly, the enor-mous role that is theirs precisely because of the call to holiness. The emer-gence of the laity is the logical fruit of chapter 5 of Lumen Gentium ~nd it is not surprising that some of the best writing in preparatio.n for the coming Synod on "the vocation and mission of the laity in the Church and in the world twenty years after the Second Vatican Council" uses terms that a few decades ago would have been thought proper to relig-ious. The concept of the laity as the people of God and the exploration of the depths of, baptismal consecration havebeen slow to leaven the think-ing of the Church and, like all great truths, may have been liable to ex-agg,~ ration in the process. There has been error both by defect and by excess. One school of thought has argued that, if all are called to holi-ness, no way of life is in itself more holy than another; baptism is every-thing, and there is no consecration~beyond that of baptism. Th~is would cut the ground from under all forms of what the Church specifically calls '"consecrated life." Another school of thought has taken the line that, if all are called to holiness, then all, in some obscure way, are called to echo or model the way of life long recognized in the Church as a ~'state of perfection." This confuses the style of life with the substance of ho-liness and moreover does not do justice to number 31 of Lumen Gentium which insists that "their secular character is proper and peculiar to the laity." 6 Review for Religious, January-February 1988 In practice, a remarkable renewal of the laity is actually going on. This is not simply a matter of effective lay movements such as St. Egidio, i'Arche, the Focolarini, the neo-catechumenates and charismatic groups, all of which are especially attractive to young people, but also of a ground swell in favor of the laity. There is a quality of spirituality, of mission, of responsibility in the Church, of active participation that was not known before the Council l Whereas formerly the lay person was identified negatively as one who is not a c!eric or a religious now the nega-tive description is complemented by something much more positive; the laity are "the faithful who by baptism are incorporated into Christ, are placed in the.People of God, and in their own way share in the priestly, prophetic~.and kingly office of Christ, and to the best of their ability carry. on the mission Of the whole Christian people in the Church and in the world" Lumen Gentium .31). The sense of identity is much surer, and it is very clear that one does not have to be a religious to be called to holiness, .to be in .mission in the Church and to be responsible for many of the things that religiOus of apostolic life have done since their foun-dation. This has been a challenge.for many. if all are called to holiness and our work can be done by others, why be a religious? Some Effects of Renewal At the same time as the movement connected with the laity, there has been the parallel movement for the renewal of religious life. Perfe~tae Caritatis (n. 2) called for a renewal and an adaptation of religious insti-tutes in the changed conditions of our times. It is a matter of history that the adaptation, which was the easier and the more evident of the two un-dertakings, happened with great rapidity. In some cases it took place be-fore the implications of true renewal were grasped. In many instances it was not so much an adaptation as a complete transformation which moved an institute away from the expression of its founding gift that had been visible, identifiable and a lived tradition. Adaptation was necessary but the Council assumed an adaptation resulting from and in conformity with the renewal of basic values in religious life. Renewal was to, give a focus to the adaptation~ and criteria of discernment to guide it. With-out such parameters, the attempt to be one with the changed and chang-ing conditions of our times could only involve religious in an endless spi: ral of charige to the point where their identity would no longer be in them-selves but in their conformity to current conditions. The ada.ptations of the past twenty years have gone very far. In a re-action to being identified by their works, many institutes in the early 70s Consecrated Apostolic Lives / 7' laid a heavy emphasis on being rather than on doing. Then a counterac-tion, stressing the idea of mission without adequately defining it, moved back to doing, although this was expressed in new terms, often with a strong social emphasis.~ The shifts were evident in most aspects of apos-tolic religiouslife: There was a far more immediate insertion into soci-ety than .in the past: an active presence and outreach characterized by soli-darity with and preferential option for the poor, the oppressed and the marginalized. The types of work done, while not giving up the traditional health, educational and pastoral services where these remained neces-sary, included a wide variety of new ministries, often in the fields of hu-man promotion and some times of socio-political involvement. Forms of community changed. There were fewer large, institution-like convents but a multiplication of small, loosely structured, inconspicuous resi-dences with a relatively short life span. Structures of government cailed for participation and shared responsibility. Prayer had to be adapted to the new forms of life and work and often became largely individual. For-mation was sometimes uncertain because the life itself was not clear. Too much was left to the Choice of the person entering. The dramatic reduc-tion in numbers posed a problem in itself, and there was a lack of confi-dence on the part of many sisters with regard to their own future. Unless there was a strong grasp of the root values of religious life and a genuine renewal of these, the adaptations of the late 60s and 70s could bri.ng sisters to the point of asking serious questions about their idi~n-tity as religious. The crisis was sharper for sisters of apostolic life since their apostolates brought them into close contact with the crisis that the Church was living at the same time in her effort to be open to the world and be a Church of the poor. Those same apostolates also brought to-gether the sisters and the laity. More than one religious asked: what is the difference between me, who am a sister of apostolic life, and my sis-ter at home, who is a professional Christian laywoman?'It is not prayer; it is not work; in many cases it is not dress; it is not home conditions or lifestyle. The question: "why be a religious?" was being posed from adifferent angle. Some sisters left religious life because they could not answer it with any degree of integrity. Convinced that all share the same call to holiness, the same baptismal consecration, that all take part in the same mission of Christ, that we build the same body of Christ in the com-munion of the Church, that we are all members of the priestly, prophetic and royal People of God, and not seeing much evident difference in the works by whi(h religious and laity express all this, these sisters virtu-ally asked whether there was a difference at all. I~ / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 This is the crux of many a vocation crisis for apostolic religious. The answer in individual cases is never easy because the question itself im-plies that there is already doubt and insecurity. The important thing is the basis on which the doubt and insecurity are met. Two points matter. One is to su[gport and encourage all that is said of the dignity and great-ness of the lay vocation. Religious do not find their own identity at the expense of the laity or by playing down the-laity. On the contrary. The stronger and greater the lay vocation, the more it can help religious to develop their own, and all that the laity have by baptism is also the basis of'the Christian life of.the religious. The second point is to make the ques~ tion concrete and positive. In one sense: "How are we different?" is the wrong question if it is a defensive attempt to fix on what separates us. We should rather ask: "What is it that makes us religious? What does it commit us to? How do we live it?" Many sisters who, possibly could not put that essential specification into words are yet s~ufficiently con-vinced to give their lives because of it--and that speaks for itself. When we do try to put it into wgrds, it comes to the Christian call to holiness and to union with Christ in mission in the Church expressed, not in secu-larity as is the case with the laity, and not through ordination as is the case with the c.lergy, but through religious consecration: a consecration of the whole person which is a new expression of baptism and which is effected by public vows accepted by the Church and made in commu-nity. Our identity, our raison d'etre, our place in the Church have their roots in our religious consecration. For many of us this consecration is specifically apostolic. Consecration The Nature of Our Apostolic Consecration The new Code of Canon Law is very clear that consecration is the basis and specific characteristic of our life as religious, and it has two fine a~ticles to this effect. The first is canon 573.1 which says: "Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a sta-ble form of living in which the faithful follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit and are totally dedicated to God who is su-premely loved. By a new and special title they are dedicated to seek the perfection of charity in the service of God's kingdom, for the honor of God, the building up of the Church and the salvation of the world. They are a splendid sign in the Church, foretelling the glory of heaven." The second is canon 607. I: "Religious life, being a consecration of the whole person, shows forth in the Church the marvelous marriage established Consecrated Apostolic Lives by God as a sign of the world to come. Religious by their consecration consummate a full gift of themselves as a sacrifice offered to God,. so that their whole existence becomes a continuous worship of him in love." All the important elements are there: the reality of a consecra-tion to God which takes the whole of life; the rootedness in baptism; the newness; the response of love to the love of God which calls to a rela-tion which is mutual gift like marriage; the commitment to a personal fol-lowing of Christ more closely; the form of the consecration which is by public vows; its public nature; the ecclesial dimension which is in the Church and for the building up of the Church; the stability and specific-ity; and the fact that it is for others: a witness to.the fact of God, of heaven, of the reality of the invisible things of faith that is for the good of all God's people. For us, sisters of apostolic life, there are two other very important articles: canon 673 which states that the apostolate of all religious consists primarily in the witness of their consecrated life and canon 675 which makes clear that, for institutes dedicated to apostolic works, apostolic action is of the very nature of the consecration. Such action is to come from union with God. It is to confirm and foster this union and is to be exercised in the name of the Church and in commun-ion with her. Let us look at some of these ~lements more closely. . Consecration involves, at least implicitly, choice by God and the dou-ble idea of separation for him and dedication to him. In the Old Testa-ment, it came to mean a declaring sacred, a setting aside a reserving or separating out for God which recognized his holiness. In the case of per-sons, Yahweh himself consecrated as, for example, in the wonderful call of Jeremiah (Jr 1:5) whom he foreknew, loved, called and set aside for his ~own service even before he was born. In the new dispensation, Jesus is consecrated and sent (Jn 10:36): "For them do I consecrate myself" (Jn 17:!9). His Church is a consecrated nation, "a people set apart to sing the praises of God" (1 P 2:9). From this consecrated nation God° freely chooses and calls certain ones, as he did the prophets and apos-tles, to live their sharing in his covenant in a way which involves a fur-ther or new consecration. This may be sacramental, in the case of priests; secular, in the case of members of secular institut+s; religious, when it is made through religious profession. In each case it is an unmerited gift of God which, like love, cannot be rationalized. It is something that God works in us and to which we respond. The woman called to be a relig-ious is invited by the Father to a closer following of his Son, is given a particular intimacy with the Lord and is transformed by the Spirit in a-unique relationship of love given and love returned consciously, freely, Review for Religious, January-February 1988 totally. She is separated for and dedicated to this and she gives her life to it in joyful hope and gratitude. She finds in it the inexhaustible source of her own growth in holiness and of her effectiveness and fruitfulness at the service of others. Such a consecration is deeply rooted in baptism and is a fuller ex-pression of the baptismal commitment. Baptism, by which we receive the fruits of the redemption in Christian initiation, establishes a relation with God which is trinitarian and ecclesial. Any further bond with God will be marked by the same characteristics. It can only develop further the relationship of baptism. That is why religious consecration is a dedi-cation; not to the following of Christ to Which we are already bound by baptism, but to the closer following; not to the love of God and neigh-bor because that is already contained in baptism, but to God supremely loved and to service as a pledge for life; not to being Church because we are already fully members of the Church by baptism, but to taking that particular place and role in the Church which are indicated by our religious profession. The consecration is rooted in baptism yet it is new. It is not given to all the baptized and is not an automatic consequence of baptism. It is new because it binds us to new dimensions of the bap-tismal consecration. It is new because it is made with awareness and choice; new as a response of love to a particular call; new because it com-mits us to constant ongoing conversion; new because it constitutes a new iife for God in Jesus Christ (see Redemptionis Donum, n. 7). This new consecration has a particular character: it is marked by a love that is mutual gift--the love of choice and self-giving which is the 10ve of one spouse for another. The Code of Canon Law chooses the im-age of "the marriage established by God as a sign of the world to come" as its description of religious life. From the depth of the love of Jesus comes the call'to Consecration, and this saving call by God's grace, as- -sumes in the depth of the person called, the actual form of profession of the evangelical counsels. ~In this form is contained the answer of the religious to the call of Christ's love: a love of self-giving responding to the divine self-giving. This is the heart of religious consecration: a mu-tual surrender of love which embraces the whole person. The words of Isaiah: "I have redeemed you, you are mine" (Is 43: I), seem precisely to seal this love which is a love of total and exclusive consecration to God. However, mysterious as it is from many points of view, religious con-secration is no abstraction. It involves a particular way of life here and now in a form approved by the Church. Of its very nature such-a way Consecrated Apostolic Lives of life wiil include prayer, mission, service and communion with others who have the same consecration in a particular religious family. It is in a down-to-earth community, in the Church and world as they are today, and in accordance with a specific set of approved constitutions in a given institute that we live our religious consecration. Moreover, consecration takes place through the profession of public vows. The vows are public by their nature and they pledge those who make them to a fraternal life in common (see can. 607). Not only do they set apart and dedicate the consecrated person to God but, as a chief means of fostering this new relationship, they incorporate the person into a religious institute which has its own law and which encourages growth in consecration in its own way. We sometimes talk about religious consecration generically but, as a matter of fact, it is always both specific and concrete. There is no such thing as vows made in general. They must be according to the constitu- .tions of a given institute. In their turn, the constitutions express the found-ing gift given by God to a person or group: Francis, Dominic, the seven founders of the Servites, Mary Euphrasia Pelletier, or Julie Billiart. Each of these lived their own consecration in a way which attracted others, and the institutes which they brought into being are channels for the'~work of the Holy Spirit continuing the gift of God in later generations. Fidel-ity to the identity which is rooted in the gift of God is, therefore, of high importance to any institute. It is transmitted through the consecrated lives of the members and through the consecration of new members, for the consecration itself reflects something of the specific grace, purpose, na-ture and spirit of the religious family in which it is made. It is clear that, although religious consecration involves a stable way of life, it is not a once and for all act. It is the beginning of a new phase of the inner journey to union with God, but it requires a lifelong growth that we call formation, and structures of support and order that we call governmept. We deepen our consecration all our life long. Nor is con-secration self-regarding. It is directed to the fulfillment of God's kind purposes and so is:for the sake of the whole Church. It benefits all God's people. The present Holy Father has expressed this very beautifully when he said that by the fact of consecration the heart of the religious is sealed with the sign of the biblical spouse (see Sg 8:16) and at the same time opened to all the sufferings, needs and hopes both of individuals and of the world. Receiving the love of the Father through the heart of Jesus, the religious enters in a particular way into the economy of the redemp-tion: the transformation of the entire cosmos through the human heart from within. This transformation takes place through the love which con- Review for Religious, January-February 1988 stitutes the very substance of religious consecration. It is by their conse-cration itself, then, that religious take part in the most complete and radi-cal way possible in the shaping of the new creation which must emerge from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery. (see Redemptionis Donum, nn. 8 and 9). This is their deepest sharing in the saving mission of Christ. The consecration of the apostolic religious, however, has a special note. In their case the deep, consecrated sharing in Christ's mission has an expression in apostolic and charitable activity which is of the very nature of their religious life. This activity is a "holy ministry entrusted to them by the Church, to be performed in its name" (Perfectae Carita-tis,. n. 8). It is a ministry closely connected with the founding gift and identity and rooted in consecration. To accomplish it, the entire relig-ious life of the members should be imbued with an apostolic spirit, and all their apostolic activities with a religious spirit. Here we touch the heart of apostolic religious consecration in practice. The apostolate is not something added on to our life of consecration: it is essential to that life. Everything in us~must be "imbued with an apostolic spirit." There is nothing outside it. It embraces the whole of life. We are apostolic, not because of What we do or do not do, but because we are consecrated in such a way that all is done as one sent by God in the name of Jesus and in the power of his self-giving love. The complementary side of thee coin is equally important. The works that we undertake to fulfill the "holy ministry entrusted to us by the Church" are not simply professional ac-tivities. By the fact of consecration, they are to be "imbued with a re-ligious spirit." We are consecrated for God, for the Church, for his peo-ple, not simply to do works which, however good, can be paralleled by many a generous person,° whether Christian or not. Our service is to be a sign of Christian vocation, witnessing to realities that are unseen but eternal. That is why our apostolic action must always proceed from un-ion with God and must confirm and foster that union. We are apos-tolically effective to the extent to which we live ourconsecration. The Place of O~r Apostolic Consecration in the Church Our consecration as apostolic religious is an ecclesial reality, exist~ ing only in and for the Church, the sacrament of salvation of the Christ who is consecrated affd sent. The Code says that we exist to'build up the body of Christ (can. 573.1). Certainly, our consecration is mediated through the Church. The public vows of religious are recognized and re-ceived by ecclesiastical authority, and the life to which they give rise is a divine gift to the Church which does not exist outside her. The Church r(cognizes, fosters and encourages the establishment and growth of re- Consecrated Apostolic Lives ligious institutes. She has the responsibility of discerning gifts and of ap-proving the individual constitutions according to which consecration by vows is made. She also gives the particular apostolic mandate according to which we have a specific, visible and public share in the saving mis-sion given to her by her founder. Our consecration commits us to a dou-ble service in the Church. In the first place, by a free expression of God's will, we are called to do and be intensively, exclusively, publicly and with our whole lives what all Christians are called to do and be by the universal call to baptism described in Lumen Gentium. Our consecration by vows in community frees us from many preoccupations and respon-sibilities of daily life in the areas of possessions, affectivity and choices precisely in order that we may be completely given to this one priority. If we are not living for the sake of others, we are not living our religious consecration because it is for them every bit as much as for ourselves that God has given his gift. We see a kind of parallel in civil life. All citizens have a responsibility for public o.rder and the well-being of so-ciety. Usually all strive to keep the peace. But some do it as a service to the others which is a life commitment. They do it publicly, exclu-sively, giving all their time and energy to it and, in some cases, life it-self. They are not more citizens than those who have chosen other ca-reers, but they express their citizenship in.a specific way for the benefit of all. God has always acted in a similar way with his people. All share the covenant; all are a royal,, prophetic, priestly nation; all are a conse-crated people set apart for God. But it is precisely ,because of this uni-versal call to holiness that God has called individuals and groups to im-age the covenant, to recall it, to live it in a way that is a constant re-minder, so as to help their sisters and brothers to be faithful to it. This call from among the people of God and for the sake of the people of God is not merited but free. It does not argue personal sanctity and does not imply any form of superiority. There were kings who failed, reluctant prophets, unfaithful priests, and apostles who betrayed or denied their Lord. But there is aneed for persons in the line of the prophets and apos-tles who are called by God, set. apart and dedicated to him, and who give up everything to follow him more closely. They focus the common call of God's people and keep it before the eyes of all as a challenge, encour-agement and truth that give meaning to life. The first service that results from religious consecration stands in this tradition. The second service is the more obvious one of apostolic works. There is an intimate connection between the founding gift which originated an institute, the consecration by which members are incorporated into the "14 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 institute, and the works which express the institute's corporate sharing in the mission of Christ. The three cannot be separated. In recognizing an'd approving an institute and mediating the consecration of its mem-bers, the Church acts on a discernment which she has made of the action of the Holy Spirit responding to.the needs of God's people. This divine action usually involves a perception on the part of the institute's foun-dress of some aspect or attribute of God which enables her to see human needs in a particular way and to respond concretely. My own foundress' wonderful awareness that God is good made her want to share her per-sonal experience of his goodness with the people of her rural area of north-east France who had never he~ird of him. This corresponded with the des-perate need for social and religious formation which followed the French Revolution. The result was a sharing in Christ's mission by an aposto-late of catechesis and education. Educational works are not one option among many .for Sisters of Notre Dame. They are the apostolate by which we share and continue St. Julie's founding insight and they are mandated for us by the Church because of this. Most apostolic institutes can trace the relation--founding gift, consecration, apostolic works-- pretty clearly. For example, the very name, Sisters of the Good Shep-herd, is a summary in itself. The Sisters of Mercy are another case in point. So are the Sisters of the Good Samaritan and the Little Sisters of the Poor. In each case, the Church is enriched by a concrete service in an area which she herself has approved and which has its roots in a di-vine initiative continued in consecrated life. Such a service is a matter of faith as well as of professional 'competence. It has a solid ground of continuity as well as diversity in its ongoing development. Both in itself and through the forms of service to which it has given rise, religious consecration is a witness in the Church to the reality of things hoped for and believed but as yet unseen. Consecration is a re-sponse of love in faith. The apostolic religious, by the fact of her conse-cration, asserts her conviction about the reality of God, the truth of Je-sus Christ, the presence of the communicating Spirit. She gives her life to this. In full consciousness of her personal inadequacy, she accepts the responsibility of being salt and light, sign and reminder. She accepts it, moreover, corporately in community with others shar.ing the same un-merited gift, and in a stable way--not simply when she feels like it, or when things go w~ell, or for a certain time, but for better or for worse as a life commitment. The ChurCh has the right to count on the witness and works of consecrated religious. Consecrated Apostolic Lives The Place of Consecration in Our Lives At this point it might be helpful to sum up briefly the place of our apostolic religious consecration in our lives as individual members of our institutes. What does it commit us to? First, to a closer following of Christ, .personally and loved above all, and, in him, to a continuous wor-ship of God in charity. This involves a life like that of the apostles: not a knowing about the Lord but a knowing and loving the Lord himself, taking on his mind and heart in the ordinary things of every day, letting ourselves be transformed by him until to live is Christ (Ph 1:24). This deep love of the person of Jesus gives meaning to our consecrated lives and the foundation of any apostolic spirituality. It is expressed in the vows and it alone can ensure the poverty of heart, the surrender of love and the free obedience that we strive for through our vows. Secondly. we are committed to a sisterly life in common precisely because the un-ion with Christ through love also unites us among ourselves. Commu-nity is characteristic of the religious form of consecrated life. It is the expression of a spiritual bond, a communion, which is Christ among us, our hope of glory (Col 1:27). This bond reflects the Church a~ commun-ion: the aspect so strongly brought out at the 1985 Synod of Bishops. It is also the bond of apostolic following: of sharing the same mission of Christ, in the same way and under the impulse of the same Holy Spirit. This bond is stable, and has its concrete expression in commu-nity as our form of life. We commit ourselves in the third place to a shar-ing in Christ's mission which is corporate, personal and ecclesial. We each accept our personal Part in the mandate which the Church gives to the institute as a whole and we carry out our own mission under the author- ~ity of our institute and according to its traditions. Fourthly, we commit ourselves to fidelity to our own religious institute as God's gift to the Church and to us. This means fidelity to its nature, character, purpose and identity, to its way of life, to its spirit, to its mission, apostolate and works. Such fidelity has to be both honest and creative, respecting both the need for continuity ant] the necessity for change. Finally, implicit in all this is that we commit ourselves to Christ's goal and to Christ's means: prayer, service and the cross in the very apostolates that we do with him for the Father's glory and the salvation of the world. Our con-secration requires that our works come from and lead to union with God. That is one reason why our commitment in faith is a source of confi-dence, joy and hope. Review for Religious, January-February 1988 Living Our Apostolic Consecration Today. The Conditions of Our Times (Perfectae Caritatis n. 2) Perfectae Caritatis pointed to the conditions of our times as one of the three major criteria of renewal. They certainly play a great part in the way that the apostolic religious lives her consecration today. Some sisters bemoan them, others exult in them, others a~ain try to escape them or pretend that they are not there. One good way to approach them is to remind ourselves that we are not living our religious life in 1988 by chance. It might seem easier to have been a "Mother of the desert," or a seventeenth-century pioneer, or even one of our pre-Vatican II sis-ters, sure of her predictable horarium and occupations. However, the fact is that it is here and now that we are living our religious consecration because that is God's choice for us. Of all the possible periods of his-tory, this is the one that his love found best for us. It is not a mistake or an oversight. We know and have believed in his love and this is how he shows it. Our first response has to be a wholehearted Yes to the fact that we INe in our own times. This is our hour. We do not have any otfier, and if we do not accept it,'something will be forev~r lost to God's glory and to the Church of Christ. It is here in this place, now .in this time, with these sisters, in this Church, in this society that each of us carries on the saving work of Christ to which our consecration c6mmits US. What are our times? Certainly they are a period of very rapid change, not to say upheaval, both in the Church and in the world. The years since the Council bave seen significant shifts in long-accepted values and atti-tudes and the raising of questions probably unthinkable in a previous gen-eration. Moral problems are complex. Instant communication has brought nuclear issues, violence, the uncertain striving for world peace, questions of human dignity,~ world hunger, armaments into many peo-ple's homes. Computer technology is easing work on the one hand and on the other posing some deep problems about the future of human de-velopment. One thing is sure. The clock will not turn back. These are our times with their hopes and fears and challenges. We have to know them if we are to live our consecration according to the mind of Christ, because they raise questions about the adaptation of our style of conse-crated life and work. Four areas have been particularly affected by social and ecclesial de-velopments since Vatican II: community, works, formation and govern-ment. The extent of the pressure has varied from culture to culture but Consecrated Apostolic Lives / 17 the general lines are worldwide, and I will confine my observations to the English-speaking world as being the one I know best. Community has moved from the accepted model of a more or less en-closed life with its own traditional .interpretation of being-in-common through uniformity of timetable, prayer, presence, habit, to a present state of considerable diversity. There have been successive phases. Im-mediately after the Council,there was a false dichotomy between com-munity and apostolate and, in reaction to this, the tendency to absolu-tize either one or the other. Then there was the cry for small communi-ties. In the late seventies, by a misunderstanding, anything that was termed "monastic" was considered nonacceptable for apostolic life. Then there were cluster communities, intercongregational communities, international communities, and the cases of sisters living alone. Much of the discussion centered on structure, size, location, style of living and form of government. All these are important, but the considerations need to go deeper if we are to renew,community in a way that corresponds to our times. What is needed is a living witness to the possibility of unity among people. The quality and evidence of community living: that is, the fact of persons living like the apostles did, united to Christ, and to each other because of him, is part of the good news that we bring. Com-munity exists as the expression of communion ir~ the Lord. For this rea-son it is an obligation for religious; notan obligation which is imposed, but an obligation of love which flows naturally from our consecration. It is by the values of consecration and corporate mission that commu-n. ity life is to be evaluated. Certainly, there are changes in the require-ments and possibilities of community life, but probably what needs prayer-ful reflection is the connection between present.trends in community styles and structures and the v~alues of consecrated religious life that these are meant to promote. The touchstone is our consecration: the basic ele-ment which determines the.raison d'6tre., the purpose, the relationships and the nature of community. It is not a~clearcut area. There are good apostolic reasons for many of the changes that are taking place: new needs evident in both the Church and society; much greater specialization and professional mobility; fewer sisters; less stable corporate com-mitments because of the variety of demands; a different kind of outreach to the needy and the marginalized. But the criterion for discernment in decisions that have to be made must first of all be the consecration in which religious community is rooted. What kind of community are we building? What values are we trying to support? If the bottom line is our consecration, our communion in Christ will be such that the witness of Review for Religious, January-February 1988 our community living will be an apostolate in itself. "By this all shall know that you are my disciples, that you have love one for another" (Jn 13:35). If the communion of consecration does not solve all the struc-tural problems, it gives the one sure context for the evolution of com-munity. Something similar has happened in regard to works, and this is not separate from but closely related to developments in community. Ours is a corporate mission: a joint sharing in the one mission of Christ which is an ecclesial mandate taken up by the fact of our consecration to God in a parti.cular institute. It has both the strength and the limitation of its specificity. It is strong because it commits the whole institute to a cer- (ain direction: the service and works which express its founding gift. It is limited because it requires us to forego other kinds of works which are not part of that gift or which are more properly done either by the clergy or by the laity. One of the difficult things to foster in recent years has been the poverty of heart that can accept the limitations of consecrated service for what they really are: fidelity to God's will as expressed in the founding gift and lived tradition, and not some kind of failure in gener-osity. We do not look for variety of works for its own sake. We are not called to act as if all the social, political, economic, educational, pas-toral or medical good in the world depended on us. We are not seeking our own fulfillment. But we are living our consecration to the Christ who was sent in ways which are much more sophisticated than they were twenty years ago. We need a good deal more specialization. We find our-selves called by a wider range of needs. We have more collaboration with other religious, with the laity, with public bodies. We find ourselves faced by increasing demands just when our diminishing numbers and ris-ing median age seem to give less possibility of meeting them. Here it is the mission to which our consecration commits us that is the stable cri-terion for discernment. What are we sent to do? For whicl~ service in the Church of today did the Lord prepare our particular institute? That is where our fidelity must lie. It is our fidelity to our institute's part in Christ's mission that determines our corporate decisions and, within the corporate identity, the works of the individual religious. With regard to formation, I want to make only one remark at this point: namely, that the conditions of our time are one important element in the formation process. We donot carry on our formation in a vacuum or, please God, in some airborne way that is out of touch with reality. The young women who come to us come from today's society with its attitudes, values, habits and ways of acting. It is twenty years since the Consecrated Apostolic Lives Second Vatican Council, so very few of our candidates will have expe-rienced the often healthy security that marked pre-Vatican II religious life. Although conditions change from one culture to another, most young women have known only a rapidly changing world and a suddenly changing Church. Why come to institutes in process of changing their lives and revising their constitutions? At the same time, older sisters, em-bracing or resisting or avoiding the changes of the past twenty years, have been faced by the challenge of an ongoing formation which has to take into account the conditions of the times while it deepens and fos-ters growth in all the areas of consecrated life. Alike for the candidate and for the golden jubilarian, the focus is consecration. The candidate is preparing for it. The older sister is deepening it by her daily ongoing formation in community. How do we ensure this process today? How do we set formation in the late 1980s squarely in the perspective of our con-secration to the God who sends us in mission? Finally, government has been greatly affected by the values, particu-larly the political values and principle~s, of our times. Democracy, par-ticipation, subsidiarity, consensus, shared responsibility, collective de-cision making, due process appear in some shape or form in most drafts of constitutions. There is a stress on collectivity and leadership and on the gifts of the individual sister. All this is a curious amalgam of much that is good in the tendencies of our times but it has three striking char-acteristics: it usually avoids with great care any clear authority, organi-zation and general structure, all of which are necessary if government is to work; it makes no a~;sumption of faith, but seems to aim at effi-ciency of function rather than efficacy of purpose; it does not necessar-ily relate the government structures of an institute to its founding gift and tradition, yet this relation is critically important. The influences on gov-ernment have real potential for good but they cannot be accepted uncriti-cally or simply because they seem to be the trend of the times. How do we discern which ones will be helpful? Allowing for the existence of our own traditions and of the general law of the Church, which processes and structures will best promote our religious life and service? Again it comes down to which ones will support and foster our consecration in mission. It is evident that values have to be clear and deeply accepted, but the touchstone for decisions is consecration. Response to Our Times What we offer to the men and women of our time is the dedication to God, to the Church and to the saving work of Christ in our world that is contained in our consecration. It is a self-giving which witnesses to "20/Review for Religious, January-February 1988 love through service: a witness of faith which makes us signs of the God we cannot see, and of the invisible realities that everyone hopes for. It need not be dramatic. Most of the time, it seems very ordinary and rou-tine. But we must be deeply convinced of its necessity and validity. God has chosen each of us before the creation of the world to live through love in his presence and to continue actively the mission of Christ in our world here and now. These are his "kind purposes" (see Ep 1:5). We have, therefore, three centers of focus in our one consecration: Christ, the Church, and the world, and it is from these interrelated centers that our style of response to our times takes its shape. I suggest that the Church and society today need among religious~ not so much planners, as contemplatives; not so much professors as proph-ets; not so much public servants as apostles. It is witness rather than words or works which speaks in our time. It is therefore as contempla-tives who are one with Christ, as prophets who hear and communicate his word in the Church and as apostles sent in our own world that we live our consecration, whatever our work may be. That is the heart of our response. We are to be contemplatives, not because of a lifestyle that is en-closed, but because we have committed ourselves by our vows to live always the particular response of faith, hope and love by which we open ourselvesto the revelation of the living God and to communion with him through Jesus Christ in the Holy Spirit in every aspect of our lives. The contemplative dimension of our consecration is basically a reality of grace. It is a gift of God by which we know him as Father (see Jn 14:8) in the mystery of the Trinity dwelling within us (see Jn 14:23). By it we savor what Saint Paul calls "the depths of God" (I Co 2:!0) and. by the gradual purification of the paschal cross all our lives long, we come more and more to meet God in everything and in everyone, to serve him in our sisters and brothers, to. love, adore and praise him in the daily round of our duties. Our consecration commits us to this: to live, be and serve in the perspective of God no matter what our workg may be. Our joys and our sufferings, our immediate tasks and the responsibilities which take time, attention, patience and professional competence are very much part of our lives and are the occasion both of our apostolic .effectiveness and of our personal growth, but we can never afford to let them obscure the vision of faith by which we witness to the reality of what we hope for: to the truths that we cannot see. It is in this contem-plative faith suffusing our lives and publicly expressed as the basis of Consecrated Apostolic Lives our consecration that we find the conviction of the validity of our life and of the value in the Church and world of today. We also serve as prophets. Individuals were called from among the people of Israel to listen for God's word, to hear it and communicate it. They were members of a pro.phetic people at the service of that people and they were one of God's ways of keeping the people faithful to the covenant. In the Church, too, the Lord of history has called some, for the sake of all, to a prophetic role among his people. Jesus is the grea~t prophet: the one who is both message and messenger. In him is the full-ness of the Holy Spirit who is the Spirit of prophecy. It is in him and to him that we are consecrated as religious. In that consecration there is a distinct sharing in his prophetic mission. We are to be united with God o in our contemplation but, both individually and corporately, we are also to listen to his word, to recognize it in our own times, to speak it in the way that we live and serve and relate to others. This is no easy matter. A look back at Jeremiah or Isaiah or Jonah or Ezekiel will remind us that we cannot talk lightly about being prophets. It is significant that none of the prophets wanted the role. Moses objected. Jeremiah re~proached the Lord. Jonah ran away. Yet something of their vocation is ours, and we have to face the devastating challenge to complete poverty of heart that they recognized and feared. What does it involve? In the first place; a humble acceptance of God's choice and of God's message. Itis his teaching through Scripture, through the Church, through a tested discern-ment of our own situation properly approved, that we are to speak by words, by action and by life. We do not preach our own .message, we do not decide to whom we will go nor with whom we will work; we do not choose where we will give witness. We do not have an eight-hour prophetic day; it is a calling that takes our whole life. We forgo our own security to depend on God. We accept the cost of prophecy: the suffer-ing, the likely rejection, the misunderstanding, the self-giving that may cost life itself. We are sharply aware of our own inadequacy and defi-ciencies, of our inability to be and do anything without the power of Christ acting in us. And most of the time that power acts in secret. The most effective prophets are often the ones who are least a~iare of their prophetic work. But the very fact of our vows, publicly professing val-ues that speak pr.ofoundly to sex, possessions and self-determination, the fact of our life in community, which speaks to the segregation, aliena-tion and marginalization of so many people, and the fact of our service. in mission given out of love, not out of compulsion, all make us a part of a presence and action in the Church that is distinctly prophetic. Review for Religious, January-February 1988 As apostles, we are sent to carry the good news. Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. He is alive now and among us. We have met him; he knows and loves us and all those whom we serve. The fruits of our con-templative faith and our prophetic calling are in our apostolic mission. "As the Father has sent me, I als0 send you" (Jn 20:21). This is why t.he element of missioning: of sending and bei.ng sent, is of so much im-portance in our religious life. We are sent into the world, sent to our works, sent to our communities. We accept the" sending, which is the most effective expression of our obedience, with the same love and free-dom as Christ accepted his, because he makes it possible. Through the Church and through the" mediation of our own institute structures we con-tinue in our own times the work of the Christ who was sent. This is a critically important value in setting up p.rocesses of missioning today. Christ, the Church, and the world combine in the consecration of the apostolic religious to give a commitment to God in community in mis-sion which, in, the concrete reality of the conditions of our times, is a witness eloquent in itself. It has to be lived with full generosity and fi-delity if its potential, is to be realized. Rooted in consecration and ex-pressed in apostolate With the rest of our community, it can be a truly prophetic witness and it is on this level above all that we have something very valid tb bring to our times. Conclusion Despite the questions with which we began these reflections, it must be clear that the consecration of sisters dedicated to apostolic works has a particular place in today's Church. It is by vowed consecration lived in community and approved by theChurch, that we are religious at all, and it is as religious that we receive our particular sharing in the Church's mission. This sharing involves witness to God and a service to our sis-ters and brothers in Christ, that can take many forms but the forms have to be consonant with our consecration, with our founding gift and' tradi-tions, and with the Church's mandate. Our life needs love, faith and fi-delity; it needs a constant sensitiveness to Christ, to the Church and to ~he world; it needs a firm conviction as to its own validity. All these are components of the formation we receive and in which we continue to grow. So long as that growth is centered on what is essential to our life: the vowed consecration in community to the Christ who Was consecrated and sent, not to condemn the world but to save it, we will be increas-ingly what God intends us to be in the Church: witnesses of faith, signs of hope, evangelizers through service. The side-effects of this will come of their own accord: the quiet evidence of a way of living that offers al- Consecrated Apostolic Lives / 93 ternate values to those of sex, money and power; the long-term impact on society of educat.ional 'or pastoral works that consistently operate on Christian principles; the witness of service willingly given for reasons that have nothing to do with professional advancement, ambition or per-sonal gain; the existence in the Church on a permanent and reliable ba-sis of persons and institutions who are channels of God's love in action mirroring the presence among us of Christ the teacher, Christ the healer, Christ the reconciler, Christ the Good Shepherd. This is what we are about today as apostolic religious. May the Lord who consecrated us and began his good work in us, bring it to its completion (see Ph 1:6) for it is only in him that we bear fruit for the Father's glory (Jn 15:8)and he has promised to be with us, even to the end of time (see Mt 28:20). The One Prayer of Jesus David P. Reid; SS.CC. Father Reid, whose interests are "peace, family and the relationship between life and religion,;' teaches New Testament at the Washington Theological Union. He is especially grateful to Sr. Margaret Therese Evans, S.N.D., for encouraging him in seeking publication of this article and for editing its text. Father Reid may be ad-dressed at: Washington Theological Union; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Md 20903-3699. The power to praise is itself your gift. ~,.very prayer is ultimately some shadow and some part of the praise of God. To be able to praise God, of course, is itself God's gift. The fact is we do not pray on our own strength; we pray out of discovering a strength within us. We just hope that our presence, our attempt, is itself prayer. In other words, we come with a tremendous sense of humility into the act of prayer. We hope that our effort at doing certain things re-ally is prayer offered to God. There is only one "pray-er": that is Jesus. Anything we do is a par-ticipation in the one prayer addressed to God through Jesus. When we go to pray, we can be mindful of the Japanese Buddhist in a shrine in Kyoto, or the Hindu taking care of a poor man on the streets of Calcutta, or all the people of the world wanting to pray. In the light of the Gos-pel, we believe that we all share but one prayer: the prayer of Jesus. All the prayer of the whole world reaches God through Jesus because God's ultimate revelation to the human is Jesus, the Christ. We enter into a stream, a wide stream of life. We can have a great sense of solidarity with our human family of brothers and sisters through-out the world as each tries to pray in his or her respective way. Some- 24 The One,,Prayer of Jesus how or other, the prayer of each is nudged this way and that, is cele-brated this way or heard that way. Somehow or other the prayer of each is taken by Jesus and offered to the Father. When we pray we hope that we have heard the prayer of Jesus and that we are releasing his prayer into the world. As we enter into prayer, his prayer is released through us into all the nooks and crannies of this huge, complicated world of hu-man beings. "The power to pray is itself your gift." Who is this gift of God? Je-sus! The power to pray is Jesus. Theologians speak about the "anony-mous Christian" and about the convergence of all things towards God as the "omega point." We, even with our.feeble efforts, are a part of that wide drama. Sometimes it is hard to keep .our footing in this mar-velous procession through Jesus to the Father. We want to bail out. But we were never asked to succeed. Rather we have been invited to become pari of the prayer who is Jesus. "Accept my effort, Good God, and make it part of the prayer of Jesus." Deep down we know that all we do is to offer ourselves. The point is made clearly each time we pray at ,.the Eucharist: "Pray, brothers.and sisters, that our offering may be ac-ceptable . " Our offering is united to the offering of Jesus. The of-fering of Jesus is lovingly accepted by the Father. It becomes a sacrifice. We do not presume to call our offering a sacrifice. Only God makes holy. Only God makes a sacrifice. Only God's action accepting our of-fering makes it a sacrifice. Jest]s' prayer, acted out in his loving self-donation on the cross is totally and completely acceptable to God. Jesus is God's gift. Jesus is God's power to pray. Only in his power do we pray to God. Only his prayer fully resonated with the Father's desire to redeem the world. Perhaps all of us experience problems with prayer. These can be prob-lems of all shapes and makes; at times, problems of faith, at other times, problems of discipline. It will help to solve.some problems to underscore the humility and honesty with, which we come to prayer. We place ~ur-selves in the presence of the praying Jesus. The evangelists portray Je-sus in prayer with the intention of inviting us to be with him. The sim-ple statement: "I prayed this morning," may in fact be too proud. All I did was place myself alongside of the only pray-er there is, Jesus. This is the most exciting and beautiful part of prayer. Recall the scene in Luke's gospel where the Pharisee and the publi-can pray. One of them trots up to the front of the temple and pours out his prayer, while the other one i~ depicted as hanging back, terribly con-scious of the small offering that he is making; he knows that this whole 96 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 thing of praying could fall apart in his hands at any moment. I suggest that this reaction is central to the experience of prayer. "I must decrease, he must increase." We come to pray with a deep sense of our frailty but secure in our awareness that Jesus is the pray-er to whom God has re-sponded. God raised Jesus from the dead, sure sig~'J that God heard the prayer of Jesus. His whole life was prayer because his whole life led to the response of God in raising him up. In prayer we are asking that we be heard as was Jesus. This brings a beautiful unity to our prayer and a deep consolation. All the many ways we pray are efforts to enter :the prayer of Jesus. It would be unwise to evaluate the various ways of praying and declare one way better than another. Each comes from our broken lives at a par-ticular moment and is offered through Jesus who likewise knew many ways to pray to his Father. We give a very concrete interpretation to the idea that we should pray always. Many persons have experienced a whole new creativity in prayer by choosing to call up6n this gift of God in a whole.variety of situations. The gifts of God are not to be compared but only identified as God's gift for this time and in this place and in these circumstances of my life. So it is wise not to compare gifts of prayer but to marvel at the way in which God enables us to pray as we need at any given time. This is true also of the prayer of dryness, even the "prayer of distraction" if we are permitted to coin such a term. Distractions in prayer are a big problem. The problem is not, how-ever, that we have distractions but how we handle them. When we find ourselves distracted, we must re-read the distraction. We must put our-selves in touch with the feelings that were experienced in the distraction. It could be that the distraction is what God wants us to bring to conscious-ness and sur~'ender to him in this prayer. When we offer our distractions to God often we are offering our real selves at that moment. We are "praying from the gut." That's what~.~God wants. God wants our real lives, here and now made part of ever-being-prayed prayer of Jesus. Our distractions are putting flesh on the prayer of Jesus now. How? We are enfleshing his prayer in the midst of that distraction. We are taking the prayer ofJesus and allowing it to become part of our world. It may mean praise, it may mean glory, it may mean healing, it may mean contrition. All the more power,fully therefore do we conclude our time of prayer with the simple refrain: "tht:ough Jesus Christ our Lord." As I conclude my prayer'with this refrain I am greatly consoled. It is not just a nice way to end a prayer; itis the only way both to begin and to end. Often I am distracted during'those prayers at the Eucharist when we recall all The One Prayer of Jesus / 97 those for whom we pray. And before I know where I am we are praying the final doxology. If I trust Jesus praying in me, I can abandon myself in that final sweep as our prayer reaches out to God in the outstretched arms of Jesus: "Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all honor and glory is yours, almighty Father, for ever and ever." As the Amen of the community resounds in my ears, I can letgo of my frailty and recognize again that all our strength comes from our being rooted in God. If God could be so "distracted" as to take up his abode in our midst, we can see our distractions as an invitation to take up our abode in God. So our i~sue then is to be very much in touch with the prayer of Je-sus, to believe deeply that we are baptized into his prayer. That prayer is going on inside of us constantly. To take time to pray is to tap into that deep vein, that deep thrust of life which is going on inside. We are in Christ. We are profoundly in Christ.~We are far more in Christ that we shall ever imagine. To pray is to come home to ourselves in the depth to which we are being plunged into Christ. To live is to belong to the community of praise. Now what is Jesus Christ doing in his prayer in the midst of us? He is leading us into the community of the praise of God. We become part of his prayer because his prayer is access to the community of praise. In the imagery of the Letter to the Hebrews, it can be said that Jesus leads us into the Holy of Holies. We are ushered into the presence of God. The wildest dreams of the Old Testament people are fulfilled. Many longed for the joy of going to Jerusalem. Three times a year the pious Jewish person went up to the Holy City. These visits were the high points of the year. All the remainder was lived in the valleys of expectation. Hear the psalmist say it in words of unspeakable beauty: For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the ,house of God than dwell in the tents of wickedness (Ps 84:10 RSV). For them the annual pilgrimages to Jer.usa!em expressed a hope that God would grant such a request: access to God's presence in the midst of the community of praise. They set out for Jerusalem hoping and pray-ing that.they could make the journey and then be .found not unworthy to enter into the very presence of God. Only the high priest could enter the Holy of Hblies once a year. That is what it meant to be alive: to be given access in the community of praise to the very presenc.e of God. 91~ / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 This image of the community of praise is a very powerful image. To develop it I suggest a reading of the healing of the Samaritan leper in Luke's gospel. The story is known to all: On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Gali-lee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their'voices and said, 'Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." When he saw them he said to them, 'Go and show your-selves to the priests." And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned b_ack, praising God with a loud voice, and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus, 'Were not ten cle-ansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" And he said to him, 'Rise and go your way; your faith has made you whole" (17:11-19 RSVi. A painful part of being a I~per was that one was denied access to the community of praise. Jesus sent the lepers off to thd priests to be read-mitred to the community of praise. They discovered that they were healed while on the way there. The Samaritan did nbt need a priest to declare him readmitted. In a daring move, he stepped out in faith and declared that the new situation~ in which he now stood was indeed the community of praise. He rejoiced and praised God. " Jesus' purpose in preaching the kingdom of God was to direct peo-ple °again to the community of praise. He had come from that~commu-nity of praise and he ,was leading people back to that community of praise. He would give us access to the community of praise to the glory of God. And th'e proclamation of the kingdom was to overcome the things that held us back from that 9ommunity. Call it Satan, call it the reign of Satan, call it whatever you will. But he set himself very directly against those things that held back people from allowing that formula of praise to really resonate in their hearts. It is interesting that the person healed is not only a leper; he is also a Samaritan. There was only one thing worse than being a leper in a Jew's eyes; that was being a Samaritan. Here there is one, both a Samari- ,tan and a leper, who finds that all that Jerusalem ever stood for is right here now before him as he praises God for the gift of Jesus. It is won-derful! One finds a whole new redefinition of Jerusalem, of temple, of Samaritan and of what it means to belong to the community of praise. How lovely i~; thy dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts. My soul longs, yea, fainis for the ~ot~rts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God iPs 84:1 RSV). The One Prayer of Jesus In all of the gospels, but especially in Luke, there is an emphasis put on the response of the people to a miracle performed in their midst. It is part of telling the story to underscore the reaction of the participants. Here Luke gives a story which outdoes all others in presenting this reac-tion of praise. The favorable reaction is proportionate to how much the person felt bound by the particular malady. Every miracle restores a per-son to the community of praise; the story of the Samaritan has as its spe-cial purpose to point out that Jesus restores one to the community of praise by removing the blocks that hold back people from access to God. The purpose of the miracles and the purpose of recounting the miracles is less proving that Jesus was divine than illustrating how Jesus gave ac-cess to the Divine. Only God can give access to Godself and Jegus as God's beloved Son rejoiced in giving to humankind access to his Father. Such access is life. Jesus restored the dead to life as a pledge of the Father's power at work within him to lead us all finally to the praise of God's glory forever. Jubilate Deo As our singing in harmony fades and dies Jubilate Deo the music of the silence rises from within our hearts set free by the Spirit who loves to play in the stillness of united hearts. Noel Davis 257 Abercrombie Street Chippendale, N.S.W. Australia 2008 A Word About Praising John Sheila Galligan, I.H.M. Sister John Sheila resides at Mary Immaculate Convent; 10th and Moore Streets; Phila-delphia, Pennsylvania 19148. Without doubt, even a cursory reading of Scripture reveals that the theme of praise pulses in the depths as well as on the surface of the biblical tra-dition. We are swept along at an almost breathless pace as explicit prayers of praise, invitations to praise, and reflections on various aspects of the act of praising come to the fore. With enthusiasm and confidence the Psalmist proclaims resolutely: "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be ever in my mouth" (Ps 34:2). God himself praises his gen-tle servant: "Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom my soul delights" (Is 42: 1). In the Gospels these words are reit-erated in reference to Jesus: "This is my beloved Son, on whom my fa-vor rests. Listen to him" (Mt 17:5; see Lk 9:35; Mk 9:7). A close ex-amination of the countless references to "praise" shows that praise is not merely an emotional outpouring, but a theological statement of depth ¯ and seriousness. Throughout Scripture the central meaning of praise seems to indicate the human person as receptive and responsive: recep-tive to the discernible presence of God, responsive in the expression of wonder and awe. Praise is a key element in the life of the spirit. Abraham Heschel, a noted Jewish theologian, makes an incisive comment: The secret of spiritual living is the power to praise. Praise is the harvest of love. Praise precedes faith. First we sing, then we believe. The fun-damental issue is not faith but sensitivity and praise, being ready for faith. ~ 3O A Word About Praising Little do we think about the nature of praise--though nowhere does the might of the spirit appear so openly, so directly and tangibly present as in the act of giving praise. What does it mean--to praise? Surely, an examination of the nature of praising and its place in our lives would be an enriching endeavor. Praise: Its Nature Several passages from the writings of the acclaimed Christian apolo-gist and literary critic C. S. Lewis offer substantive material for reflec-tion and application. The theme of praise is etched into his works with a laser-like intensity of conviction: conviction crystallized in his experi-ence. An understanding of its determinative importance in human life per-meates his works. The tenor and thrust of Lewis' insight are most fully developed in a chapter of his book Reflections on the Psalms. There he affirms that praise is an expression 9f approval, a positive affirmation.2 To praise God is to acclaim, magnify, honor, and glorify him. Praise is a commin-gling of wonder, awe, adoration, and thanksgiving. To praise is to ac-knowledge lovingly and accept gratefully not only what God is in him-self, but what he is for the human person. Authentic praise involves ex-altation, sensitivity to the sacred, awareness of indebtedness to God. It seems to be born when the mystery of God and the mystery of the hu- ¯ man person meet. Praise, Lewis maintains, is th~ dynamic response of a creature who knows himself or herself to be the object of God's infinite love. Lewis personally gave "praise" for coming to this discovery after a slow and hesitant faith-struggle of more than thirty years. With. straightforward sim-plicity he writes of his conversion: The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance to escape?3 Here again we see that praise is essentially a receptive and respon-sive attitude, the diffuse and grateful conviction of being known and loved by God. Lewis draws our attention to the fact that praise is a response to an objective value and, therefore, an expression of the will. As such, he sug-gests it is not just something sentimental, nor does it primarily refer to a special intensity of feeling. Rather, it concerns the extremely solid and sober matter of responding to an objective good. Praise is the "correct, 39 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 adequate, and, appropriate response" to someone or something that de-serves it.4 Therefore, the Psalmist can state, "Praise is rightfully yours, O God" (Ps 65:2). In every conceivable case praise signifies much the same as approval.5 We find that the Psalms frequently issue an invita-tion to praise with a "because" as they proclaim the reason for honor and praise: "Praise the Lord, for he is good; sing praise to our God, for he is gracious; it is fitting to praise him" (Ps 147:1; see Ps 33:1). Thus, the issue of praise is not primarily our feelings and our words; the issue of praise is God." Essentially then, to praise is to discover a value, appreciate it, and in some way express this appreciation. Overtones of ampler meaning emerge from Lewis' attempt to clarify the meaning of "appreciation." The word appreciation for him, means to "love and delight in. ,,6 The beginning of praise is appreciation--and the beginning of appreciation is a sense of humble awe in the face of the mystery of the enduring love and goodness of God. In the light of this we could perhaps say that praise is a form of the truth to be grasped by the spirit. Lewis stresses, too, that to praise is to forget the self and break down the walls of self-absorption and resistance to God. Praise is fueled by love; therefore, selfishness smothers praise. With a dash of daring and characteristic dry humor, Lewis points out his discovery that "the hum-blest, and at the same time most balanced and capacious minds, praised most, while the cranks, misfits, and malcontents praised the least.''7 Praise and Creation: Matter Really Matters Not surprisingly, Lewis constantly affirms the sheer "goodness" of all that God has created. There is no good trying to be more spiritual than God. God never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature .He likes matter. He invented it.8 This marvelous truth is illustrated with a clear and steady focus through-out Scripture and in consequent theological reflection. "God saw that it was good" is a refrain repeated seven times within the first thirty-one verses-of Genesis (see Gn 1:4,10, 12, 18,21,25,31). Heschel's comment is apt: The biblical words about the genesis of heaven and earth are not words of information but words of appreciation. The story of creation is not a description of how the .world came into being but a song about the glory of the world's having come into being: "And God saw that it was good" (Gn 1:25),9 A Word About Praising The whole earth is full of God's glory. Psalm 148 calls us to recog-nize the wonder of God's work and express it in word. Because God has clothed creation with loveliness, the Psalmist sings: "All "your works praise you" (Ps 145:10). We find the theme frequently in poetry, per-haps most beautifully expressed in the Canticle of the Sun by St. Fran-cis. Throughout his works Lewis indulges his delight in the reality of the world with i~nthusiasm and zest. Readers find themselves immersed in powerful imagery and scenes which create the memorable impression that matter really matters. Lewis constantly celebrates the "profusion of pleasure" which lies about us. Always he extends the marvelous in-vitation: Come out, look back, and then you will see--this astonishing cataract of bears, babies, and bananas: this immoderate deluge of atoms, orchids, oranges, cancers, canaries, fleas, gases, tornadoes and toads.~° in the. mystery of creation he sensed the presence of God. It filled him with wonder and gratitude. According to Lewis, not to praise what God has crea~ed is not to see. He would agree with Elizabeth Barrett Browning's pertinent observation in the poem "Aurora Leigh": Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit around and pluck blackberries. The world is "crammed" with the marvelous. Yet our perception is frag-ile and lacks intensity. We can be blind and deaf and dull. Therefore, Lewis is adamant: We may ignore, but we can fiowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with him . The real labor is to remember, to at-tend. In fact, to come aware. Still more, to remain awake. I I Lewis' insights are unambiguously positive. He urges us to rejoice in the "joy, pleasure and merriment which God has scattered broad-cast.''~ 2 He thrilled to the genuine delight which one should discern in the patterns of pleasure that God has created. The inexhaustible fecun-dity of the "glad Creator" provides a riot of light and color, taste and smell. ~3 Even Sci'ewtape, the senior devil in Lewis' Screwtape Letters, attests tO the truth that God "is a hedonist at heart . Out at sea, out in his sea, there is pleasure and more pleasure. He makes no secret of 34 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 it; at his right hand are pleasures forevermore." 14 Praise and the Present Moment: Time Touches Eternity Without doubt, Lewis roots praise, in an appreciation of what is "ex-traordinary" in the ordinariness of the present moment. An intuitive and pervasive perception of the fact that every moment is significant, draw-ing its power from God's presence and efficacy in it, under,,lines Lewis' assertion that the "Present is the point at which time touches Eter-nity." ~5 That God's loving and caring presence is~prismed through the present moment strikes the core of his understanding of the nature of praise and its intimate connection with Providence. This notion is crucial in the great theological vision of Julian of Nor-wich, whose statement "All shall be well" is rooted in the reality of "All is well.''~6 A splendid text in Romans also embraces the vision: "We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who love him" (Rm 8:28). Reality and actuality exist only in the present moment. Because of this, Lewis exhorts us to reflect upon the question, "Where, except in the present, can the Eternal be met.9''~7 A disciplined and intelligent grasp of the art of appreciatipn of the present moment permeates Lewis" works. In his science-fiction novel Perelandra we are told that Maleldil (God) is in every place, "even in the smallness beyond thought." Realizing that a glimpse of God's hand at work in the zigs and zags of our experience can be bewildering, yet providential, he writes: The pattern is so large that within the little frame of earthly experience there appear pieces of it between which we can see no connection, and other pieces between which we can . Before the world was made, all these things had so stood together in eti~rnity that the very, signifi-cance of the pattern at this point lay in their coming together in just this fashion.~8 And in a letter to his friend Arthur Greeves, he shrewdly observes: The great thing, if one can~ is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptionsOof one's own or "real" life. The truth is, of course, that whht one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life--the life God is sendingone day by day. 19 Thus, a realization that the present moment is enlivened with an incar-national intensity and. vision is crucial to spiritual growth. And in the won-der of this awareness we respond with. praise. To prai~se thi~ singularit.y A Word About Praising of the moment is the fruit of spiritual maturity. Praise and Joy: The Serious Business of Heaven Praise, according to Lewis, is an outburst of the heart, an act of buoy-ancy and spontaneity. Praise transmutes feeling into delight. He urges us to remember that praise is the "mode of love which always has some element of joy in it.''2° It is immediately apparent that here Lewis is as-serting something that strikes at the heart of the meaning of praise: In human experience praise is intimately intertwined with joy. In short, we are confirmed in our sensing that profound joy can generate praise and praise is the springboard for joy. Again Lewis observes that "all enjoy-ment spontaneously overflows into praise."2~ He states, "I think we de-light to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses, but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation . The delight is incomplete until it is expressed.' ,22 The richness of this state-ment rests on its suggestiveness as well as on its explicit message. It brings to the fore that fact that a sense of admiration, permeated by love, is drawn to completion in praise. Praise and Suffering: A Sacrifice of Praise If a primal and central quality of praise is joy, what are we to under-stand in Scripture's invitation tooffer the Lord a "sacrifice of praise" (see Heb 13:15; Ps 50:14; Ps 54:8)? It is a remarkably powerful and some-what unsettling image. Perhaps further exploration of the truth that a proper and healthy awareoess of our "dependency" on God is the most fertile soil for growth in spiritual maturity would be helpful. We have already noted that a reverently' surrendered heart is the wellspring of praise. Nothing so ham-pers the capacity to praise as the desire to control and the temptation to manipulate. The focus of praise is not the self; therefore, praise is part of an asceticism. :Lewis comes to grips with this notion in the summary statement: The proper good of a creature is to surrender itself to its Creator--to en-act intellectually, volitionally, and emotionally, that relationship which is given in the mere fact of being a creature . In the world as we now know it, the problem is how to recover this self-surrender.23 "Self-surrender" demands courageous fidelity to the demands of disci-pleship. It urges that we cut through all the swaggering and petty indul-gence of the ego, .that we crack the hollow of self-reliance. The death 36 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 to self that constitutes surrender becomes an instrument of hollowing and hallowing, a means of rooting our security in God. Bluntly challenging, this "self-surrender' '--and almost more dismay-ing than comforting! A superficial reflection might give the impression that this is a negative kind of experience, with no connection to the act of praising. 'Delving more de.eply, we find yet another level of meaning. For praise must flow out of and then back into the reality of a silent sur-render to the mystery of God's love for us--love most fully exemplified in the crucified and risen Christ. In reality, there are no deep expressions of love, no deep experiences of love that are not in some way the consequences of a sacrifice of self. We may deny it, ignore it, or repress it, but deep down we know it is true. Yes, we are involved in a paradox here. Marvelously concrete, Le-wis states: "We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the suf-ferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to him; throwing away all defensive armor."2'~ Through offering a "sac-rifice of praise," we are drawn out of the shallows of life to greater depth, to newness of life. God provides us with situations in which we must be more faithful, more patient, or more loving th~in we ever imag-in( d being before. This draws attention to our experience of contingency and limitation. Our fickle natures shy away from offering a sacrifice of praise because the "sacrificial" element hurts. Lewis' insight is on target: "We shrink from a too naked contact [with God], because we are afraid of the di-vine demands upon us which it might make too audible.' ,25 The rich in-terplay between love and suffering is acknowledged in his assertion that Christianity is "hard and tender at the same time. It's the blend that does it; neither quality would be any good without the other,''26 To be poised and ready to plunge into living out this surrender is to desire conformity to God's plan for us. Thus, "obedience" is at the heart of offering a sacrifice of praise. In his book Perelandra, the man Ransom jolts us with the challenging question: ".Where can you taste the joy of obeying unless He bids you do something for which His bid-ding is the only reason?''27 The paradoxical meaning of offering a sacrifice of praise is evidenced in the experience of great joy. A deeply appreciative perception of truth, beauty, or goodness triggers a reaction, or rather a response, in which the feeling of joy is linked with a feeling of lack. Lewis develops this notion by describing his moments of greatest joy as experiences of :'in- A Word About Praising consolable longing."28 Our inability to rest in such moments, to grasp and cling to and somehow claim them, reveal them as an anticipation, a,preparation for full enjoyment of their source: God. Lewis. reminds us that we have "a root in the Absolute''29 and therefore he can state, too, that "all joy reminds; it is never a possession."3° God's design is to keep us on tiptoe, to nourish our thirst for himself with little "glimpses" into what will some day be forever. The painful lack that is constitutive of these '"patches of Godlight" in the woods of our experience"3~ summon us to move beyond. To offer a "sacrifice of praise" is to allow our innate appetite for the Infinite, our thirst for God himself, to dislodge us whenever we are inclined to settle down. Praise and Adoration: Fused Moments of Felicity Authentic praise sometimes goes beyond the scope of emotion; it is the threshold to the transcendent. Thus Lewis speaks of praise in con-nection with what spiritual theologians would call contemplative prayer. He notes that praise is intimately linked with what he calls "Apprecia-tive Love." This love rejoices in exclaiming, "We give thanks to You for Thy great glory." Appreciative love, Lewis writes, "gazes and holds its breath and is silent, rejoices that such a wonder should exist." and he adds that God "can awaken in man, toward himself, a supernatural Appreciative Love. This is of all gifts the most to be desired."32 In an-other place he calls this special love "the gift of adoration.''33 In such a profound and pervasive spiritual experience, knoffledge 'and love are so intimately united that they can actually be identified with each other. To understand what happens here is to enter into the lovely land of the mystique of the heart. "Praise" at such moments involves ~imazement, not understanding; awe, not reasoning. Seized and refreshed by.the overwhelming spell of the loveliness of~God's words and works we exclaim, "How right it is to love You!" (Sg 1:4). In the smallness beyond thought we discover a level where we are stunned by the ineffable: "Who can utter the mighty doings of the Lord or utter all his praise?" (Ps 106:2). There are insights that lie beyond the power of expression; the heart perceives more than the word can convey. At such moments the human person deeply expe-riences the disparity between desire for expression and the means of ex-pression. We are stunned at the inadequacy of the spoken word to inter-pret the heart's knowing. In a sense, then, the highest form of praise is silence-~creative si-lence pervaded by an awed sense of the grandeur of God. A reverential and sacred silence best expresses our admiration and love. This kind of Review for Religious, January-February 1988 silence touches the face of the Father, embraces Christ, and experiences the reality of the Spirit. Even though a loving heart has no words, it cannot contain itself. St. Augustine gifts us with a memorable image: "Love grown (old is the heart's silence; love on fire, the heart's clamor" (En. in Ps 36: 14). He gives us a rich and comprehensible description of the heart's clamor, the melody of the heart: This kind of singing is a sound which m~ans that the heart is giving birth to something it cannot speak of. And who better to receive such "jubi-lation" than the ineffable God--ineffabl~ because you cannot talk about him. And if you cannot talk about him; and it is improper just to keep silence, why, what is there left for you to do but "jubilate"--with you, r heart rejoicing without words, and the immense breadth of your joy not rationed out in syllables (En. in Ps 32:8; see En. in Ps 99:5). In this marvelous fusion of thought and feeling, in the heart's rejoicing without words, praise and wonder are born. In her poem Interior Tree Anne Morrow Lindbergh echoes Augustine. She describes one of those rare moments of ecstasy, one of those inexpressible "joy touched with glory" (see I P 1:8) moments when a whisper of eternal truth overwhelms one with its beauty: Fused moments of felicity, When flame in eye and heart unite Come they from the earth, or can they be The swallow of eternity? Authentic praise springs like a song from the depths of our hearts~. It steps beyond the act of giving thanks because it often becomes an ex-pression. of adoration. In an act of ardent praise we turn to God in de-light, attend to him with loving appreciation. Therefo.re, Lewis can fit-tingly link up praise as we know it on earth with the idea of the ultimate joy of praising God in heaven: If it were possible for a created soul fully to "appreciate," that is, to love and delight in the worthiest object of all and simultaneously at every moment to give this delight perfect expression, then that soul should be in supreme beatitude.34 In saying this Lewis follows a very ancient Christian teaching which can be traced back to the writing of Augustine. Delving into his works, we find he mulled over the meaning of heavenly beatitude: There it will be our whole task to praise and ~to enjoy the Presence of A Word About Praising God . . . all our sorrows will be taken from us, and nothing will remain but praise, unmixed and everlasting (En. in Ps 86:8). He states it again with typical depth and clarity: What shall we do? . . . What will be there? What business shall we have? . . . What activity? . . o This will be our activity, the praise of God (En. in Ps 85:23). The tenor and thrust of this vision introduces into the meaning of praise the essential components of love and joy. Here Lewis writes with com-pelling suggestiveness: The Scotch catechism says that man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. But we shall then know that these are the same thing. Fully to enjoy is to glorify. In commanding us to glorify him, God is inviting us to enjoy him.3'~ Lewis' vision is baianced; therefore, he moves beyond the present exis-tence-- calls us to reflect upon the untold resources Of meaning in the es-chatological dimension of praise. Conclusion This exploration into the nature of praising reveals that if we seek to grasp the reality of praising in its full breadth and depth, we must strive to live in the light of the truth of who God is and who we are. What elicits, inspires, and sustains pra.ise is the word of God, the Scripture. Fed by this word the response of praise will become the leitmotif and ba-sic tenor of our lives. Its ordinary, transcendent, and eschatological di-mensions will mold the soul-line, the inscape of our hearts. The contemporary milieu, with its unhealthy emphasis on utilitari-anism and materialism, continues to strangle and corrode our sense of wonder. Its hollow hedonism tends to smother~radical amazement and appreci~ation and their consequence--praise. Perhaps we have bartered a sense of wonder and praise for facts and function and gradually numbed our senses and darkened our vision. Even 'so, the human person has the capacity and power to grasp the lasting values of beauty, harmony, tenderness, and truth. Little wonder that Augustine invites us to glory in the splendor of the truth and good-ness of praising with our whole being: Sing praises with your whole being; that' is, praise God not only with your tongue and your voice, but with your conscience, with your life, with your deeds (En. in Ps 148:1-2). 40 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 This straightforward invitation underlines the truth that praise is a way of understanding, insight into a way of "being" in touch with God. Scrip-ture invites us to sing praises with our "being"--to sing praise like David, of whom it is written: With his every deed he offered thanks to God Most High, in words of praise. With his whole being he loved his Maker and daily~had his praises sung (Si 47:8). NOTES t Abraham J. Heschel, Who is Man? (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1965), p, 116. z C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms (Glasgow: Collins, Fount Paperbacks, 1977), chapter IX, pp. 77-83. 3C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early L~ ife (Glasgow: Collins, Fount P.aperback,, 1977), pp. 182-183. 4 Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 78. 5 Further clarification on the etymology of the word praise is helpful. Praise is de-rived from the Latin pretiare, "to prize," which in turn derives from pretium, "the prize." To prize something is to value it highly, to appreciate it. Appreciation is a.n essential element of all praise. See Paul Hinnebusch, Praise: A Way of Life (Ann Arbor; MI: Servant Books, 1976), p. 247. 6 Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 81. 7 Ibid, p. 80. 8 C, S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan Paperbacks, 1960), p. 65. .9 Heschel, Who is Man?, p. 115. ¯ ~0 C. S. Lewis, Miracles (New York: Mac~nillan Pape~'backs, 1978), p. 66. I~ C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1964), p. 75. ~z C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (New York: Macmill~in Paperbacks, 1962), p. 115. ~3 Lewis, Miracles, p. 114. ~4 C. S. Lewis, The Screwiape Letters and Screwtape Proposes a Toast (New York: MaXimilian, 1961), pp. 101-102. ~5 Ibid, p. 68.~ ~6 See Julian of Norwich, The:Revelations of Divine Love, trans. James Walsh (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1961), Chapters 34, 35, and 82. ~7 C. S. Lewis, "Historicism," in Christian Reflections (Glasgow: Collins, Fount Paperbacks, 1981), p. 146. ~8 C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (New York: Macmillan Paperbacks, 1965), pp. 147- 148. ~9 W. Hooper, ed.,'They Stand Together: The Letters of C. S. Lewis to Arthur: Greeves (1914-1963)(New,York: Macmillan Paperbacks, 1979), p. 49 I, December 20, 1943. A Word About Praising Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, p. 90. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, p. 80. Ibid, p. 81. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, pp. 90-91. C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1971), p. 170. 25 Lewis, 26W. H. novich, 27 Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, p. 114. Lewis, ed., Letters of C. S. Lewis (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jova- 1966), p. 250, July 17, 1953, to a lady. Perelandra, p. I 18. 28 Lewis, Surprised by Joy, p. 65. 29 Ibid, p. 177. 30 Ibid, p. 66. 3~ Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, p. 91. 32 Lewis, The Four Loves, p. 191. 33 Ibid, p. 178. 3,~ Lewisr Reflections on the Psalms, p. 81. 35 Ibid, p. 82. Expressing the Feminine: In Search of a Model Marietta Ger~iy, O.S.B. Sister Marietta is a member of the Department of Religious Studies at the Univer-sity of Dayton where she may be addressed at 300 College Park; Dayton, Ohio 45469- 000 I. In The Flight from Woman (1965) Karl Stern wrote about the defeminiza-tion of society caused in part by the scientific revolution of the last three hundred years. The rejection of feminine wisdom, he explained, contrib-uted to a dehumanization which has affected us relationaily. Today a movement flows from deep within the unconscious, that in-vites us to value and express our total personhood, to act in a holistic manner. The strong opposition to the feminine in our culture and tradi-tion is one of the reasons for this movement and for the corresponding interest in rediscovering feminine images. Whenever individuals or the human race are imperiled, something begins to stir within and move them toward the fullness of graced human living. Today we are becoming aware that both femininity and masculinity are innate in each of us and that both are to be valued and given expres-sion. Just as in a musical creation there can be a melody and counter-melody which alternate in prominence, so our femininity and masculin-ity ought to alternate in prominence. Even though in music these melo-dies can stand alone, the presence of the other enhances and creates a fuller, stronger, more pleasing effect. So if either masculinity or femi-ninity is suppressed or dormant, our manner of communication will be less effective or even less destructive. This, in fact, has been the situ-ation in our Western culture. Now that the sleeper, femininity, is awak-ening, new energies are being activated. When activated, those energies 42 Expressing the Feminine / 43 begin to personify themselves and to seek expression. How this creative power will manifest itself will depend in part upon our fantasies, our crea-tive imagi.nation which needs to be stimulated by the symb.ois and mod-els of both our culture and our Christian heritage. A musician receives inspiration hearing a number of different interpretations of the same com-position, yet her own performance flows from her inner well of sensitiv-ity. In such a way the new awakening of our femininity urges us to look beyond ourselves in a new way to reflect upon the lives of people in our tradition, to search for ways of expressing this femininity, ways which resonate with and enhance our own imagination. Virginity Regina Coil draws attention to an ancient understanding of virgin-ity. In her article "Challenging and Reclaiming Symbols" Coll states that at one time the word "virgin" meant "a woman who had grown, to some kind of integrity and wholeness." ~ Esther Harding in Women's Mysteries writes that it meant being "one-in-herself."2 Helen Luke is on to the same sense as she indicates virginity "is so thin a concept when confined to the physical plane."3 It takes On a full and beautiful mean-ing when the older and broadermeaning is recovered. The ancient mean-ing is significant today because it applies to both men and women. It calls for a unified way of being and of relating. It calls for non-fragmentation. David Knight writes about virginity in a similar manner by suggesting that virginity is an active and harmonious oneness of our bodies with every other part of our being.4 He states that virginity means a refusal to respond out of only a part of ourselves, a refusal to promote separateness or disintegration; it is an intense .yearning for integrity. Knight further indicates that virginity accents our unity with others, not an easy task when we have built up our egos and relied on our false identities. Alienation of selves, building of walls, setting ourselves apart; above, over and against, insensitivity and a lack of intrapersonal and in-terpersonal connectedness are violations of this integrity. And so our past exclusionary emphasis on personal autonomy needs to be modified. Hans Urs von Balthasar also speaks of virginity as unity as experienced within someone who is free of division. Such an approach also seeks to retrieve the lost meaning of this important reality. This emphasis on unicity invites us to let go of all that holds us back and prevents the release of energies so necessary for a full life. A musi-cal analogy says it well: for music to be music the musician must involve the entire physical, mental and emotive self in expressing the music. Just as the musician must be totally involved to render the music in an aes- 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 thetic manner, we too must be totally involved, be fully alive in order to be effective relationally. Today's movement toward the rediscovery of the feminine is a move-ment toward the fullness of personhood which ought to render us more cap~ble of unrestricted responses. Femininity This present movement toward the feminine is flowing from our new consciousness. Today femininity is being acknowledged and valued. Be-cause of this, various modes of expressing femininity are being sought. Does Mary as Mother present an image for the expression of femi-ninity that can be honored today? Before addressing that question a clari-fication or description of femininity is necessary. F.J.J. Buytendijk de-scribes it as that adaptive dynamism (which) does not elicit any resistance and leads to the discovery of quality and .stature, to encounter with things as they are, and thus to the discovery of value. This discovery, however, is never complete; there is an inexhaustible wealth of value in being that never ceases to elicit a meditative and tarrying contact with being.5 Openness, receptivity, creativity, gracefulness and tender caring are considered characteristics of this adaptive dynamism. This adaptive dy-namism or femininity, according to Buytendijk, manifests itself as a way of being-together-with that is both giving and receiving, that is recipro-cal, and 'not one-sided. This adaptive dynamism is not to be equated with the female sex, though it is woman who is capable of giving the clearest expression of femininity, just as man gives the clearest expression of masculinity. No individual existence in the concrete is exclusively masculine or ex-clusively feminine. It is not possible for an existence to develop so en-tirely according to one mode that it lacks all traces of the other. Mascu-linity and femininity are both possibilities of human existence as such, understood in terms of consciousness or an approach to reality, which is necessarily intentional and equally necessarily a "togetherness" with other being.6 When we are dealing with real people, all that we often can see is a predominance of masculinity or femininity. However, full human dig-nity flows from a balanced harmonization of botlq dynamisms. Without a balance of masculinity we would have a feminine imbal-ance getting lost in a chaos of pathic connection without any ability to stand apart or to objectify. Unbalanced masculinity may be described as Expressing the Feminine the projection of a world of hardness, of stubborn resistance, of precipi-tousness. ~On the other hand, this masculine capacity for expansiveness, functioning in a supportive role, provides a precious balancefor our femi-nine capacity of being~together-with, of connectedness. Motherliness Forms are being sought today for expressing our adaptive dynamism, femininity. This femininity is not to be limited to one form or manifes-tation. A variety of forms is possible, one being motherliness. Motherli-ness is best characterized as a fostering, supporting, cherishing, caring manner which flows from a receptive, adaptive dynamism. It is a man-ner of being that sets aside the temptation to analyze, to plan, to project. It can be described as a presence which receives the other into self and sees and feels with the other. Feeling, though essentially involved, is not all tfiat is involved. "Motherliness" or "caring presence" is basically an empathic presence. It is a receptive presence that invites an inner trans-formational change. If "caring" is truly motherly, the one cared for will feel ~he recognition of freedom and will grow under its expansive sup-port. "Motherliness" need not smother. The one cared for will be free tO respond as herself, to follow her own interests without fear and anxi-ety. Motherliness, as a respectful, careful togetherness in selfless giving, fos-tering, nourishing, cherishing and caressing, is always the powei'.ihat everywhere elicits the unfolding, the realization of hidden potential of what is good, tender, fragile or subtle, whether in human beings or in nature or in culture. This is what happens in human relationships of friendship and love, in real education and in loving work.7 Buytendijk speaks of motherliness as caring, as feminine fruitful-hess. 8 The transformational effect of caring can only happen if the car-ing person conveys that he values the intensity of the connection with the other and if the caring person is genuine. A Contemporary Model: Mary Today's renewed interest in rediscovering our feminine images, in-cluding our scriptural Marian images, flows from our new consciousness, our movement toward the feminine. 19Iodels and images are needed to stimulate our imaginations, to aid in the shaping of our feminine energies. A variety of models is needed because femininity can be expressed in various ways. Mary, as repre-sented in Scripture, is one of those models. 46 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 The images of Mary as the attentive, Virgin, Mary as Woman, and Mary as Mother are receiving renewed interest and are taking on a new meaning. The ancient meaning of virginity as a holistic and integrated way of being is expressed by Mary. She possesses a unity which can help other people find their unity. In the Magnificat we see the fullness of her re-sponse: decisive, responsible, total and caring, a response that made and continues to make a difference to the world. This way of Understanding virginity can give us reason to pause and give the image of Mary as Vir-gin further consideration. The representation of femininity through motherliness can be seen in the scriptural passages which presentoMary as a "caring presence," a presence which encourages a change of heart, a personal togetherness where there is a call of one heart to another, a call to the other in the freedom of each to realize self. Some of these passages are Mary's visit to Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-45), the Magnificat (Lk 1:46-56), Mary at the wed-ding feast at Cana (Jn 2:1-12), Mary at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25- 27), and Mary gathered together with the disciples in prayer at the birth of the Church (Ac 1: 12-14). Each presents Mary manifesting this genu-ine way of being-together-with, of acting holistically, and with integrity. These scriptural representations, as well as others found in tradition, can serve a dialogic function in our movement toward the rediscovery of the f+minine. By pondering them in our hearts we too might conceive creative ways to shape our lives in response to the invitation from the unconscious to accept our femininity, to live out our total personhood. NOTES ~ Regina Coil, "Challenging and Reclaiming Symbols," Religious Education 80 (1985), p. 381. 2 Esther M. Harding, Woman's Mysteries: Ancient and Modern (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 197.1), p. 125. 3 Helen M. Luke, Woman, Earth and Spirit (New York: Crossroad,. 1981), p. 48. '~ David Knight, The Good News About Sex (Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press), pp. 30 I-312. 5 F.J.J. Buytendijk, Women: A Contemporary View (New York: Newman.Press, 1968), p. 299. 6 lbid, p. 299. 7 Ibid, p. 357. 8 Ibid, p. 355. Collaborative Leadership in Apostolic Ministry: Behavior and Assumptions David Coghlan, S.J. Father Coghlan reaches management and organizational behavior and works as a proc-ess consultant with groups on planning and change. He may be reached at the Col-lege of Industrial Relations; Sandford Road; Ranelagh; Dublin 6, Ireland. The ~zontext of religious apostolic leadership has changed a lot over the past twenty years. Twenty years ago religious had a very definite pre-dominance in institutions of ministry. They were dominant numerically. They were the sole formulators of policy. They created the culture of the institutions. Lefidership was exercised in an autocratic manner that did ¯ not readily allow for dissent or question. Since Vatican II there has been a gradual~change. Religious life has been renewed, in terms of spiritual-ity, structures, and culture. The number of religious has declined, chang-ing the way religious are present in their ministries and provoking ques-tions about the future of particular ministries. On the level of values there has been growth in an appreciation of the ministry of the laity. Overall there has grown a neff focus of ministry---evangelization--with its en-couragement of a greater openness to the contemporary world and the articulation of the integral relationship between faith and justice. Lead-ership too has changed. In research on leadership there has been a move-ment away from a focus on the person of the leader toward a focus on the process of leadership. Leadership is no longer understood in terms of personal traits but in terms of a process between roles, a group, and a situation. In the religious-life context terms like "collaboration," "sharing ministry" are prominent. Decision-making appears to have be- 47 48 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 come a group activity, with, perhaps, the consequent role of the formal leader sometimes ambiguo.,us. It is the purpose of this article to chart the issues of leader behavior so as to clarify the implications in the develop-ment of contemporary apostolic leadership in an environment of change. Patterns of Leadership Styles Thirty years ago an article written on leader behavior posed the ques-tion, "Should a leader be democratic or autocratic in dealing with sub-ordinates-- or something in between?" That article became a standard text on the complexities of how leaders behave. ~ In the article the di-lemma of leader behavior is presented in terms of a scale, with points on the scale related to the degree of authority used by the leader and to the amount of freedom available to the group of followers. The extreme left end of the scale represents the leader behavior that maintains a very high degree of coAtrol in decision-making, while the extreme right of the scale represents the leader releasing a high degree of control. The points in between represent varying degrees of the use and release of control. On the extreme left point.of the scale the leader makes the d~cisions and informs the followers. The definition of the problem, the diagnosis, and the selection of a solution from among alternatives is done by the leader. He provides no opportunity for the followers to participate di-rectly in the process. Coercion may or may not be implied. Further to the right of the autocratic position is where the leader, rather than sim-ply announcing a decision, persuades the followers to accept it. This ap-proach might assume a resistance to the decision, hence the persuasion. The next point to .the right on the scale is where the leader Presents his idea and invites questions. The followers get the opportunity to under-stand more fully the leader's thinking. The leader is still in control of the decision-making process. The point to the right of this is where the leader presents a tentative decision which is open to cha0ge. The leader continues to have the initiative of defining the problem and choosing the solution, but he is open to influence. This is more or less the midpoint of the scale--all the points to the left are those where the leader's use of authority predominates. The points to the right are those where the followers have an increasing degree of freedom in terms of a decreas~ing use of power by the leader. To the right of the midpoint is the point' where the leader presents the problem, invites sflggestions, and then makes the decision. Here there is a critical change. The leader no longer presents a solution. The followers get the opportunity to suggest solu-tions, from which the leader may select. Giving the followers more free-dom is the point where the leader defines the limits of the problem- Collaborative Leadership / 49 solving process and gives the followers the right to make the decision. The point on the extreme right of the scale is where the leader permits the group to make decisions. The question then follows: How does the leader decide where his be-havior should be located on the scale? How autocratic must he be? How democratic can he be? There are three areas to be considered in answer-ing such questions. Fir~;tly, there is the leader himself. The leader must ask himself questions about his own values, needs, motives, skills, goals, and assumptions about subordinates. His value system and assumptions about people, particularly his subordinates and how they are motivated, are significant elements in leadership behavior.2 Th+ leader needs a de-gree of self-awareness to be in touch with what personal needs are being met in a particular leadership style. The leader's tolerance for ambiguity is another key element. The leader's self-image and self-knowledge are the ground on which an individual style of behavior is built. Secondly, there is the group of subordinates to be considered. The leader, besides looking at himself, must look at the group he is leading. He must con-sider the expectations, motivations~, knowledge, experience, competence, skills, and goals of the subordinates, and how they are interested in and committed to the issues. There is the added complication of the effect of the leader on the group, intended or unintended.3 What a ieader per-ceives to be flexibility the group may perceive to be inconsistency. So leader will need to be clear on °the impact of his behavior, particularly an unintended impact.4 Thirdly, there is the situation to be considered. The leading of~groups does not occur in a vacuum. There is the effect of the nature of the issue to be considered. An issue that has far-reaching effects on the life of the group may require a more participa-tive approach .to a particular decision than would a practical decision that has a less significant effect. There is the amount of time available to be considered. Some emergency decisions can often be appropriately made in an autocratic manner because there is not the time for consultation. The organization or wider cultural context may set limits to the ways de-cisions are made. In a context where participation is perceived as hav-ing a high °value, autocratic decisions may not be appreciated or permit-ted. In summary, there are three areas to be considered in the decision on choosing an appropriate leadership behavior. There are the leader's own values,, assumptions, skills, and self-confidence. There is the actual group of subordinates, with its level of experience, skills, and commit-ment. There is the situation, whicl~ includes the organizational context, 50 /ReviewforReligious, January-February 1988 the amount of time available, the nature of the issues, and the cultural assumptions. The effect of the leader on the group is a significant fac-tor. From a sensitive balancing of each of these three areas, the leader chooses what is appropriate behavior. This requires the leader to be self-aware and have diagnostic skillsin the areas of organizations, groups, and individuals in relation to particular tasks. The emphasis on "appro-priate" is the emphasis that emerges from the definition of leadership that is , ontin, gent on the process between a specific role, the group that is constituted as followers, and the situation. Leadership is situational. The Dilemma of Contemporary Apostolic Leadership The above framework for understanding the choices of behavior a leader has in contemporary apostolic ministry has very cleai" uses. There has been a definite movement from the autocratic, nonconsult~itive style of former generations to a more participative, collaborative style. This has grown out of a number of factors. From Vatican II there has devel-oped a new sense of the ministry of the laity which has opened up ques-tions of how the laity can be colleagues in ministry with religious. Re-ligious themselves, because of the renewal of religious life and the de-cline in numbers, have reviewed their approach to their apostolates. There.remains a~dilemma. The search for the appropriate point on the leadership behavior scale is a real search. There is a discomfort with an apparent slide to the right along the scale from autocracy to abdication of power. There is an ever-growing sense in religious, through renewal of the charism of each congregation,' that the values the religious stand for are central to a congregation's ministry. Religious do not want sim-ply to hand over their apostolates, for they value the mission they have in those apostolates. They want their mission to continue, perhaps with-out them, and certainly not in the same way as formerly. That isthe first area from which an appropriate choice is made. The leader values the mission of the~congregation and wants that to continue to be enshrined in the new situation or in a new structure. At the same time the leader values c'ollaboration and the s.haring of ministry. Sharing is an activity that implies mutuality. Ministry can perhaps only be shared with those who are willing andable to be in a sharing relationship. Therefore, the group with which sharing is hoped for must be evaluated in those terms. Thirdly, there is the situation. The decline in the numbers~of religious must be faced. The state of the world demands an urgent response. The issues are deeply significant. So the choice of appropriate lehdership style is made in the weighing up of the values of the leader, the assess-ment of the group, and the nature of the situation. In those terms it seems Collaborative Leadership that the choice is that of a collaborative style, that is, of a position some-what to the right end of the scale discussed, but not at the extremity. I am attempting to clarify what is actually happening so that relig-ious, by having a framework, can understand it. My hypothesis is that, in seeing that the choices are not simply the two extremities of the scale, the dilemma can be intelligently faced and appropriate choices made. Organizational Leadership A great deal has been written on leadership in organizations over the years. Famous leaders of organizations have written their autobiogra-phies to share with the world how their particular approach to leadership was successful in their organizations. In abstracting from all these ac-counts it seems that a leader of an organization has three roles.5 The leader is an "organizational leader," by which is meant that he leads the organization in a general management role. This typically in-volves being responsible for the accomplishment of the organization's stated plans. It means creatively maintaining and developing the organi-zation's capabilities in its external and internal domains so that achieve-ment of its taTsks is possible. The organizational leader integrates the mul-tiple functions and specialist areas within the organization. These are com-plex tasl~s and require all the qualities of efficiency that are accepted as being a core ingredient of a high management role. Secondly, the leader is a "personal lead+r," a leader of people. He must be personally able to create loyalty. He personally stands for and promotes the values of the organization, and so his actions must be congruent with those val-ues. It is his behavior as leader that forms the culture of the organiza-tion. Thirdly, the leader is the "architect of purpose." In this role he is the custodian of corporate objectives,'establishing and presiding over the setting of goals and the allocation of resources, and making choices from strategic alternatives. He defends the organization from external threats and internal erosion. The instillation of purpose in place of im-provisation and the substitution of planned progress instead of drifting are the most demanding tasks of the leader of the organization. It requires great intellectual capacity to con(eptualize corporate purpose, and it re-quires creativity to recognize strategic alternatives. It requires a critical capacity to analyze the strengths and weaknesses of proposals on paper. A novel system in an American company is one where the pension of the retired chief executive officer is reviewed five years after he has re-tired. The rationale is that after five years the co .mpany will know how good a leader he was when he was in office! 52 / Review for Religious, January-February 1988 There is a parallel in relation to religious apost61ic leadership. A ma-jor superior or a director of an apostolate has those same roles. He is an organizational lead,r, a personal leader, and the architect of purpose. He is entrusted with thb effective administration of the organization, be it a region, a school, or a hospital. The organizational leader role is exer-cised in the day-to-day desk work, the eternal round of meetings and re-ports, all working to keeping the organization in operation and fulfilling its mission. As personal leader there is the maintenance of the charism and values of the congregation. The personal care of one's fellow relig-ious is akey responsibility of a major superior. As architect of purpose, the apostolic leader integrates the processes of planning and renewal in terms of the congregation's charism, the needs of the external environ-ment, and the internal resources.6 It involves going beyond the immedi-ate arid everyday decisions and emergencies to thinking strategically about a future to be created. These three roles of high-level leadership can be applied to the di-lemma of leader behavior. The choice of leader behavior in terms of the scale of options and in terms of the three areas of consideration is fun-damental to the roles of organizational leader, personal lead

Issue 69.1 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; The ApostolicI Visitation Adapting the Ignatia~i Exercises From Ygung and Old " Prac~tic'al Wisdom QUARTERLY 69.1 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue: with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue ~with one another about the holiness we try to live according to chariSms of Catholic religious life. AS Pope Paul V! said, our way of being church is _ . today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2010 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. Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Ehgene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.1 2010 contents prisms 4 Prisms 6 16 the apostolic visitation The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious: A Visitator's Perspective M. Clare Millea ASCJ explains the purpose and process of the apostolic visitation of the U.S. institutes of women religious and its intended impetus to apostolic witness and vitality. The Apostolic Visitation: An Invitation to Intercultural Dialogue Kathleen Hughes RSCJidescribes the intercultural dialogue that provides the best framework for the apostolic visitation of United States women religious, a useful habit of heart, and some possible hope-filled outcomes. 31 47 adapting the ignatian exercises Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say J. Thomas Hamel SJ examines the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius to point out the subtle but consistent ways in which retreatants become authors of the Exercises, putting their own experience into words. Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Louis M. Savary expands the reading of St. Ignatius's Call of the King meditation through the incorporation of ideas from the Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Review for Religious 63 71 from young and old ~1 Gleanings from My First Ten Years Ann Marie Paul SCC celebrates her profession of perpetual vows after living religious life for ten years by sharing eight pieces of wisdom she has learned. Monasteries of Meteora Mary Frances Coady gives her visual and spiritual impressions of ancient traditions kept by Eastern Christian monastics on a rocky peninsula of Greece. 77 practical wisdom ~ Kindness, the Everyday Virtue " James H. Kroeger MM delves into kindness's depth of meaning and inexhaustible potential for increasing goodness anywhere. 90 Ten Ideas on Priesthood George Olivera OFMCap offers ways to consider our Christian priesthood that may be helpful to priests and for those who pray for them and who enjoy their ministry. 97 102 departments ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms as Songs of Praise Book Reviews 69.1 2010 prisms T Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States has elic-ited a lot of speculation about its purpose and intended outcome and roused various emotional responses from religious and laity alike. Some speculation allows for an honest effort on the part of the Vatican offices to eval-uate the Vatican II-inspired renewal efforts of U.S. women religious, their discerned change in choices of ministry or ways of ministering, and the reality of their meager vocation recruit-ment. Most people, even among the critics, acknowledge that U.S. women religious took seriously the renewal call issued by Vatican II and responded more wholeheartedly than the men religious and the rest of the U.S. church. Realizing that certain ministries no longer required the massive effort of sheer numbers, women religious followed the church's lead and their own original charisms by seeking to serve those marginalized in our current society makeup--the poor, the handicapped, women in dire straits--and by advocating for justice in many spheres. While many more needy people were being served, women religious often lost the visibility that accompanied their corpo-rate mission in schools and hospitals. Among a Review for Religious number of factors in American family life and culture, vocational recruitment suffered from the positive secu-lar possibilities of the feminist equality movement and from the continued limits imposed on women's roles and leadership in the church. There is no doubt that the U.S. church is as strong as it is because of the work and witness of women religious through the 19th and 20th centuries. Many are the veri-fied accounts of bishops and local pastors using and mis-using the work of religious women in their own chosen endeavors. The generous sacrifices of women religious in the U.S. church are documented and unforgettable. What now needs to be honored in the current, often still hidden and unacknowledged, ministry of women religious is their being the church's arms reaching out to a world-in-need. The witness of their apostolic lives cannot now be measured by institutions, corporate devotional emphases, or monastic garb. Apostolic reli-gious life cannot be well evaluated by monastic criteria, which seemingly inspire the current study. The theology of religious life has never adequately explained the breadth of religious-life development because it has retained monasticism as its norm. Church leadership has consistently found apostolic religious life to be second-class and deficient as measured against the monastic ideal. Perhaps the Vatican s~dy will be the occasion for a breakthrough in the understanding and acceptance of the breadth of apostolic religious life in the church of the 21st century. U.S. women religious will have offered the worldwide church a most precious gift of wisdom and insight into the true living of the Spirit-given charism of active religious life. David L. Fleming SJ 69.1 2010 the . a, postol c Visitation M. CLARE MILLEA The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious: A Visitator's Perspective How many times in our lives, while living through a particularly challenging situation, we reflect on earlier situations in which we felt stretched beyond our own limited resources and abilities. Unable to do anything but rely upon God in surrender and trust, we later realize that not only did the Lord sustain us beyond our imagining, but those very expe-riences taught us the relational and practical skills we would need in far more challenging circumstances to come. I have reflected often during the past year about how many of my personal experiences have shaped and honed the gifts I hope to bring to the Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious in the United States. M. Clare Millea ASCJ is the superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Her U.S. address is Mt. Sacred Heart; 295 Benham Street; Hamden, Connecticut 06514. Review for Religious During my early years in religious life, I learned to see beyond external limitations--such as those of the mentally challenged children and adults I lived with and served--and was able to truly respect and cherish, as they do, the inner beauty of each unique person. Much later, as the newly elected superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and before beginning dialogue or canonical visitation with each of my more than 1200 sisters, I made a whirlwind tour of the communities in the fourteen nations in which my sisters are missioned. I was welcomed into every faith community by lively music, colorful dance, lovely handmade gifts, and much jovial hugging. At one point, exhausted by travel, extreme changes of climate and cul-ture, and the strain of communicating in various lan-guages, I tearfully confided to a priest my difficulty in responding with enthusiasm to these endless outpour-ings of love. Father gently explained to me that his peo-ple needed to use exuberant gestures to express their joy and gratitude for visible signs of God's presence so that they would not succumb to the weight of their daily struggles for survival. That simple explanation was a truly graced moment for me, a key to entering into the world of those faith-filled people and many others whom I would later come to know. Moments such as these throughout my many years of congregational service have intensified in me the desire to synchronize the beating of my .heart with the heart of the other person, to understand, accept, and lovingly embrace her in her uniqueness. International living and travel have strengthened in me the liberating conviction that "my way" is not the only valid way or necessarily the best way to be or to do. While I still struggle at times to succinctly articulate my congregation's unique 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious charism of witnessing that God loves each person with the human and divine love of Jesus, I am continually awed to sense the charism coursing through the veins of every Apostle of the Heart of Jesus throughout the world. I feel constantly renewed and challenged by my sisters to authentic religious living while at the same time I try to discover with them how we can grow in personal holiness, effective gospel witness, and fruitful ministry in communion with the church. My recent appointment as apostolic visitator to the institutes of women religious in the United States, the first instance of a woman religious being delegated with apostolic authority to carry out such a service to the church, seems ovei'whelming at times. While my affir-mative response to this mandate from the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) requires considerable per-sonal sacrifice, I have embraced it as a joyful expression of that unconditional assent to the divine will that I freely offered to God, to the church, and to my supe-riors on the day of my religious profession. Personally and through the religious who assist me in carrying it out, I sincerely endeavor to encounter with holy respect the members of each of the religious institutes involved in the apostolic visitation. The Church's Pastoral Concern for Religious Life In the apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, Pope John Paul II clearly affirmed that consecrated life, with its variety of charisms and institutions, is a treasure which has its origin in the example and teachings of Jesus Christ. It is a gift of God the Father to the church through the Holy Spirit, a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the People of God, and an Review for Religious intimate part of the church's life, holiness, and mission.1 Women and men freely choose to live in institutes which are canonically erected by the competent authority of the church. Through the profession of ~ ,~ vows or other sacred bonds, according to the institute's proper law, they profess the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience and, through the charity ~ to which the coun-sels lead, are joined in a special way to ~ the church.2 On her - ~ part, the church has the duty of clarifying the identity, the vocation, and the particular mission of religious institutes and promoting their ecclesial communion? The apostolic visitation of institutes of women religious in the United States was promulgated with the express approval of Pope Benedict XVI.4 In a recent address to the members of the council for rela-tions between CICLSAL and the men's and women's International Unions of Superiors General, the Holy Father noted that religious communities are not exempt from the increasing difficulty encountered in proclaim-ing and witnessing to the gospel in our modern global-ized society. While acknowledging the difficult crisis that has affected many congregations by reason of the aging of members, a more or less pronounced decrease in the number of vocations, and a certain "spiritual and charismatic weariness," he indicated that the Holy Spirit The Church has the duty of clari~ing the identity, the vocation, and the particular mission of religious institutes an~d promoting their e~clesial communioh. 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious continues to inspire a new commitment to fidelity in long-established institutes and in new forms of religious consecration as well. He pointed out that authentic actualization of the founders' charism has resulted in a promising new ascetic, apostolic, and missionary impe-tus for many congregations.5 The current apostolic visitation can rightfully be seen as a pastoral desire of the Apostolic See to journey with religious congregations as they respond to Pope Benedict's renewed invitation to "start afresh from Christ.''6 In open and honest dialogue with the univer-sal church, the visitation is a means for congregations to evaluate their present reality with courage and truth, to rediscover their founding charism, and to live it in a more authentic manner appropriate for the present time. In particular, it offer~ major superiors and their sisters a privileged opportunity to present to the Apostolic See their congregation's unique charismatic identity, as well as their communal and ministerial expression of religious life. It likewise affords the Apostolic See a way to listen to the joys, accomplishments, hopes, and concerns of the sisters and, together with the religious themselves, to seek strategies for enhancing the vitality of the individual institutes. In order to attain beneficial results, the dialogue with the Apostolic See must begin with an honest self-evaluation of the congregation's lived fidelity to its internal norms and to universal church law. The grace of the apostolic visitation can only occur in a climate of prayer, docility, open dialogue, and collaboration, with a sincere desire on the members' part to examine the congregation's strengths and weaknesses and to effect changes which would enhance the expression of its charism and ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Phases of the Apostolic Visitation The apostolic visitation is being carried out in four phases. In Phase 1, which lasted from April through July 2009, more than 75 percent of the superiors general whose institutes are included in the visitation responded to the invitation of Cardinal Franc Rodd, prefect of CICLSAL, to enter into personal dialogue with the visitator. Attentive and respectful listening to the hopes and dreams of those wonderful congregational leaders deepened my esteem for the women religious who courageously and faith-fully witness to their foundresses' and founders' spiritual patrimony and spend themselves in generous service to the church. The major superiors' love for and pride in their sisters were clearly evident as they shared their collective stoW and vision. These interviews and letters helped me formulate more precisely the objectives and procedures of the visitation. In July 2009 the Instrumenturn laboris7 or working document for the apostolic visitation was released, out-lining its nature, purpose, and procedures. Major supe-riors were encouraged to use the reflection questions contained in the working document to engage their sisters in a. process of self-evaluation regarding their congregation's unique identity, their present experience of community life, their mission and ministry, and their hopes and concerns for the future. During Phase 2 of the apostolic visitation, major superiors were asked to complete a questionnaire regard-ing fundamental aspects of their congregation's identity, present lifestyle, and future projections. The questions were similar in content to those already suggested for community reflection in the Instrumenturn laboris and were based on the model of religious life proposed in post-Vatican Council II documents on religious life8 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious and the Code of Canon Law. The questionnaire was composed of three sections. Part A requested statistical data about the congregation itself, the demographics of its members, living arrangements, care for elderly and infirm members, and ministerial presence. Its results have been collected by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), which will prepare an aggregate report of the findings for all reporting institutes, respect-ing the ahonymity of the individual congregations. The questions in Part B of the questionnaire offered the major superiors the opportunity to share with the Apostolic See the unique reality of their congrega-tion, They were designed to permit the major superi-ors to express each congregation's unique way of living the evangelical counsels, in accord with their founding charism and their own fundamental documents, approved by the church. The questions also sought basic informa-tion regarding governance, vocation promotion and for-marion policies, the spiritual and common life, mission and ministry, and financial administration. In addition, major superiors were invited to offer further explanations or comments to express their reality more completely. In Part C of the questionnaire, major superiors were asked to submit basic and supplementary congregational documents, such as constitutions, ancillary norms, for-marion plans, and chapter decisions. A complete copy of the questionnaire is available on the Apostolic Visitation website.9 The canonical model of religious life which under-lies the questions does not fully correspond to the lived reality of certain institutes. The questionnaire extended an invitation to those communities which appear to be evolving into a new form of consecrated life to describe their emerging expression of vowed living.1° Honest and Review for Religious respectful conversation between the institute and the Apostolic See could predictably lead to greater clarity of purpose and identity. During Phase 2 the apostolic visitator also extended an invitation to bishops and individual members of reli-gious communi-ties to share their observations. Input from any persons whose lives have been affected by women religious is also welcomed. All such contributions are assured confi-dentiality. A core team of religious who are aiding the visitator is currently evaluating the data received in preparation for the subsequent phases of the apostolic visitation. The third phase will begin in the spring of 2010 with on-site visits to a representative sample of institutes con-ducted by teams of religious visitors who will act indi-vidually and collectively in the name of the Apostolic See. The visitors were chosen from among the many fine religious nominated by superiors general and others and represent a variety of congregations and areas of exper-tise. Before conducting the on-site visits, all potential visitors will have participated in an orientation workshop during which they will pronounce the public profession of faith and the oath of fidelity to the Apostolic See that are made by those assuming offices to be exercised in the church's name2~ This profession carries with it a special grace which will strengthen the visitors in their delicate i~c: ,Adore~,team of religious who are ~aiding the visitator is currently ,,evaluating the data received in ~:preparation for the subsequent phases of the apostolic visitation. 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious task. It will assist them to faithfully carry out their role in communion with the sound teachings and practice of the Catholic Church and not according to their own private judgment or subjective ideology.'2 The on-site visitors will engage in dialogue primarily with the members of leadership teams and a representa-tive group of the sisters, eliciting their vision of the joys, challenges, and obstacles the religious face in seeking to live authentically their charismatic identity. The details of the on-site visit will be arranged with the congrega-tions to be visited in such a way as to afford the visitors a broad and objective picture of the life and mission of the congregation and its impact on the local church. The visitation team will formulate a report for the apostolic visitator in which they will seek to articulate the accom-plishments, the key strengths, and the challenges of the institute as revealed in their dialogue and will include any recommendations which they consider appropriate. In Phase 4 of the visitation, drawing from the data gathered in the previous phases, the apostolic visitator will prepare for CICLSAL a summary report of each of the participating congregations, whether or not they will have received an on-site visit. Each of the congrega-tions will receive feedback for the purpose of promoting their charismatic identity and apostolic vitality in ongo-ing dialogue with the local and universal church. There is much good news to tell about the history and present reality of religious life in the United States. There are also great challenges to be faced so that reli-gious may continue to offer selfless service to the church and to the people who long for our unique witness to Christ through our lives, works, and words. May the fervent prayer of the church sustain women religious on the path of ongoing conversion and renewal that they Review for Religious may be a more vibrant presence and effective instrument of evangelization into the future. As did Pope John Paul in the conclusion to VTta consecrata, we entrust all reli-gious to the Virgin of the Visitation, that the church may always be gifted with generous women who, as lov-ing consecrated persons, will continue to bring Jesus to the poor, the hungry, those without hope, the little ones, and all who seek Jesus with a sincere heart.13 Notes ~ See John Paul II, Vita consecrata, §§1 & 3. 2 See Code of Canon Law, c. 573, §2. 3 See Vita consecrata, §4. 4 Decree, Prot. N. 16905/2008, at . 5 Benedict XVI, Address to Members of the Council for Relations between the CICLSAL and the USG and IUSG, 2/18/2008, at . 6 Ibid. See also CICLSAL, instruction Starting Afresh front Christ (2002). 7 To obtain a complete text of the Instrumentum laboris, see . 8 See especially John Paul II, Vita consecrata (1996); CICLSAL, Starting Afresh from Christ (2002); CICLSAL, The Service of Authority and Obedience (2008). 9 See and . ~0 See Questionnaire, Part B, Section 1, E: "Is your institute mov-ing toward a new form of religious life? If so, how is this new form specifically related to the church's and your institute's understanding of religious life?" ~' See ; Origins 28 (1998): 163-164. 12 See Lumen gentium, §25. ~3 See I/ita consecrata, §I 12. 69.1 2010 KATHLEEN HUGHES The Apostolic Visitation: An Invitation to Intercultural Dialogue EOtxrar owrodmineanry r etliimgieosu.s in the United States, these are In February 2009 Cardinal Franc Rod~, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), stunned American women religious by announcing "an Apostolic Visitation of the Generalates, Provincialates, and Centers of Initial Formation of the Principal Religious Institutes of Women in the United States of America." The pur-pose of the visitation is, according to Cardinal Rod4, "to look into the quality of the life of apostolic congre-gations of women religious in the United States.''1 Kathleen Hughes, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. . Review for Religious Scarcely had this news been absorbed when a second announcement compounded the surprise and confusion of United States women religious. In March 2009 the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) was informed by letter that Cardinal William Levada, prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, had initiated a doctrinal investigation of LCWR's activities and initiatives, particularly citing the tenor and content of various addresses given at the LCWR annual assemblies in recent years. While the visitation of women religious and the investigation of LCWR are distinct, their simultaneity was not lost on many observers, and it has been reported that Cardinal Levada's decision to investigate LCWR was made while in communication with Cardinal Rod~. These two initiatives stirred up questions, a variety of feelings, and--given that those principally affected did not participate in the planning of these investigations--a broad range of speculation about motivations and pos-sible (or probable) outcomes. This article will focus on only one of these initiatives, the Apostolic Visitation. The first section will consider the process of the visitation and the storm that arose as knowledge of it spread across the country. The second section will offer a perspective with which to understand and prepare for the visitati6n, namely, as an invitation to intercultural dialogue. The third section will suggest a habit of heart which may prove useful for visitors and visited alike. The concluding section will propose some potentially beneficial outcomes of the visitation. The Visitation and Initial Responses to It On the face of it, the visitation is a fairly straight-forward two-year process. Cardinal Rodd appointed 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Aposto.lic Visitation The visitation "is intended to comprehensively assess and encourage the growth of Catholic institutes of women religious in the United States who engage in apostolic works." Sister M. Clare Millea, superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to oversee the visitation. Sister Clare announced three phases for the visitation. The first phase, completed in July 2009, offered major superiors of orders of women religious in the United States the opportunity to meet with Sister Clare in per-son or by phone or letter to express their hopes, ioys, concerns, and other observations about their orders; approximately fifty-two percent of them did so.2 The second phase was a question-naire, completed in November 2009. This questionnaire solicited a wide range of empirical data from every apos-tolic order of women in the United States, and asked for whatever observations and aspirations they wanted to express. Compliance with this second phase varied widely across the country. Because of concern expressed by many major superiors, the request for personnel and financial information was dropped from this phase.The third phase of the visitation, on-site visits of "a rep-resentative sample of religious institutes,''3 will begin in the spring of 2010. For this phase Sister Clare will be joined by other religious, women and some men, who will form teams of visitors. After on-site visits are complete, Sister Clare will send Cardinal Rod4 a confi-dential report summarizing all the information gleaned Review for Religious from the visitation's three phases. In addition, individual confidential reports of all congregations will be pre-pared for the cardinal. The reports of those congrega-tions receiving on-site visits will be more extensive. The visitation's website (www.apostolicvisitaton. org) offers both the reason for the visitation and its objective. The visitation "is intended to comprehen-sively assess and encourage the growth of Catholic institutes of women religious in the United States who engage in apostolic works." Why a visit? Because "reli-gious life has passed through challenging times. The Congregation for Consecrated Life is aware that many new congregations have emerged in the United States while many others have decreased in membership or have an increased median age. Apostolic works have also changed significantly because of societal changes. These and other areas need to be better understood and assessed in order to safeguard and promote consecrated life in the United States.''4 It sounds so benign. Why the furor from so many quarters? The anguish of many people, religious women and a throng of their supporters and friends as well, springs from the very nature of an apostolic visitation, some-thing generally intended for the correction of abuses. The lack of participation of major superiors in the visit's design, the secrecy about those chiefly responsible for it, and wonderment about its conclusions--all of this causes concern. What abuse exactly is this visitation meant to correct? Most women religious believe they have been living faithfully that form of religious life which emerged from their obedience to the church's mandate for renewal at Vatican Council II, and which is distilled in the congregations' constitutions--rules 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation of life previously approved by CICLSAL, the very con-gregation now mandating the visitation. Furthermore, congregations have built into their governance certain internal structures (general chapters, for example, or the periodic visits of those in leadership) for the protection of their spiritual heritage, for evaluation of their fidel-ity to their constitutions, and for assessment of people's needs in the light of the gospel so as to establish min-isterial priorities. Women religious in the United States have also embraced a pattern of discernment and decision-making which welcomes the participation of every member. For many religious congregations, transparency and collegi-ality have become a way of life. Why, then, a visitation initiated without the collaboration of those being vis-ited, lacking collegiality, shrouded in secrecy? The apos-tolic visitation of women religious and the concurrent investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious make many feel beleaguered, others fearful, others suspicious or angry. There are other voices being heard, of course. Some think it is high time someone examined what is hap-pening among women religious--whether the vows are being lived, whether prayer is still the core of religious life, whether women religious should be working out-side institutional church structures, and whether women religious should be advocating for those on the margins or promoting issues of justice within and beyond the church. Still others believe that the visitation provides an opportunity for women religious to go more deeply into issues of substance. The forty questions posed by the visitation's Instrumentum laboris, that is, its working paper, touch on everything from charism, vows, lead- Reviem for Religious ership, formation, spiritual life, and community living to mission, ministry, and financial administration,s For many women religious today, conversations on these topics happen less frequently than they would wish because of the multiple demands placed on their time and energy. There is always the danger that values taken for granted or left unarticulated become inoperative. Conversations on the essential elements of religious life may help participants discern anew where the Spirit is leading. These conflicting voices and divergent responses mirror the church at large not only in response to the visitation but on __ myriad issues large and small. Clearly, we need to find a way to talk together, to speak with integ-rity and honesty about matters of substance with those who may not share our worldview. Above . all, we need to find a way to reframe the conversation which this visitation invites us to have among ourselves and with our visitors. Even though the visitation is limited to the United States, and visiting teams will be formed from members of U.S. orders, the visitation is sure to find a range of "cultures" among us because of differing generations, theologies, spiritualities, forma-tion experiences, educational opportunities, and so on. The growing discipline of intercultural dialogue may We :need to find a way to talk together, to speak with integrity and honesty about matters of substance with those Who may not share our worldview. 21 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation provide the best framework and some guidance for our exchange. Intercultural Dialogue: A Definition and Some Guidelines Choose any Internet search engine and you will find thousands of entries on intercultural dialogue, offering various definitions of it and rules for engaging in it. The following definition is representative: Intercultural dialogue is an open and respectful exchange of views between individuals and groups belonging to different cultures that leads to a deeper understanding of the other's global perception. In this definition, "open and respectful" means "based on the equal value of the partners"; "exchange of views" stands for every type of interaction that reveals cul-tural characteristics; "groups" stands for every type of collective that can act through its representatives (family, community, associations, peoples); "culture" includes everything relating to ways of life, customs, beliefs, and other things that have passed on to us for generations, as well as the various forms of artistic creation; "world perception" stands for values and ways of thinking.6 Intercultural dialogue invites all interested parties to an open and respectful exchange with a view to deeper mutual understandings. Intercultural dialogue promotes esteem for diversity and insists that "different" does not mean "deficient." It fosters mutuality in the face of unequal power relations and forges partnerships in a common cause. And surely the most profound outcome looked for is the transformation of all who take part-- interior conversions that make room for changed forms, images, and behaviors and the freedom to see new pos-sibilities and to make choices that promote growth. Revie~v for Religious Among some simple rules for intercultural exchange, the most important is that of active listening, listening to one another with respect and openness, indeed with reverence. Each religious community being visited has a unique history shaped by the founder and her or his culture and circumstances. Each order has a unique charism and spirit, a set of traditions, beliefs, customs, even a particular "vernacular language" shaped over the years from the teachings and writings of members who have gone before, prophets and mystics among them, who have had a formative influence on the institute. Each order has a rule of life which is precious to the members, having been carefully composed and then gradually finding its way into their hearts. There may be a common set of questions in the Instrumentum laboris and a range of issues to be explored during on-site visits, but the answers will be as varied as the wonderful variety of religious communities which for almost two millennia have grown up in response to the Spirit's prompfings regarding particular needs of the day and the place. There are no "right" answers, but there will be many ways that sisters will express their following of Christ within a particular rule of life. The visitors, too, will have specific and precious religious heritages that shape their understanding and expecta-tions of religious life. Active listening--listening that is open to the hearts of others in the dialogue~is required of visitors and the visited alike. A second rule for the dialogue is to speak from one's own experience, not in the language of "they" or even "we," but "I." I believe, I think, I choose, I struggle with, I have come to appreciate, even I don't know or I am not sure. The living of religious life is an imprecise science, dependent as it is in the last analysis on each 69.1 2010 Hughes * The Apostolic Visitation 24 one's intimate and unique relationship with God. We grow into our understanding of prayer, the vows, com-munal life and mission during the course of years of choices made before God, in the power of the Spirit, and in communion with one another. Each member's experience and expression of religious life has been shaped by so many different influences, chief among them prayer, community life, ministerial experiences, and wise guides along the way. Rarely, if ever, can we read one another's mind or heart. Best, then, to speak only our own truth. A third rule for the dialogue is not to fear differ-ences but to welcome a respectful challenge, a thought-ful follow-up question. Particular external choices of lifestyle--for example, regarding housing options or ministerial options or the use of money--are less impor-tant than the reasons such choices have been made, the communal discernments which prompted this or that decision. In some instances clearly life-altering decisions have been made by local communities or whole con-gregations after long and serious prayer and reflection. These choices do not admit of true or false, yes or no, but require a reflective exchange whose eventual reward will be deeper insight. A fourth rule of intercultural dialogue is to come to common agreement about the scope of the conversa-tion. Both the Instrumentum laboris and the question-naire of phase two of the visitation present a wide range of topics for personal reflection. Not all of these topics, however, were appropriate for comment in the ques-tionnaire of phase two, especially if major superiors were in possession of information gleaned in personal manifestations of conscience, nor should some topics be included in the on-site dialogues of phase three. Review for Religious There are canonical norms which govern the extent of the dialogue. Subjects such as the frequency of one's sacramental participation are more appropriate to the internal forum and, in any case, are beyond the scope of the visitation. Furthermore, any questions with poten-tially incriminating consequences may also be politely deflected. Participants in an intercultural dialogue must know and accept the boundaries of the conversation; in an apostolic visitation, the boundaries are demarcated in canon law.7 Finally, intercultural dialogue is best and most fruitfully employed when all the participants have had an opportunity to shape the dialogue and accept the rules which bind the par-ticipants. In the case of the apostolic visi-tation, certain rules have been imposed from the outset which are troubling to some of those expected to partici-pate. Especially neu-ralgic among women religious who are used to openness ¯ Participants in an intercultural dialogue must know and accept the .boundaries of the conversation; ~in .an apostolic visitation, ithe boundaries are ~,~demarcated in canon law. and transparency is the secrecy surrounding the visita-tion's motivation and its final reports. Some opportunity for participants to negotiate the rules of the visitationt[ would be a good-faith gesture to women religious who ~ welcome courageous, gende, and respectful dialogue as partners with a church they love. 69.1 2010 Hughes * Tbe Apostolic Visitation A Useful Habit of Heart The habit of heart I want to recommend in prepara-tion for the visitation comes from my own experience of an earlier visitation. More than twenty years ago, I was part of the first apostolic visitation of seminar-ies and houses of formation in the United States. In 1981 the Holy See appointed Bishop John A. Marshall of Burlington, Vermont, to serve as apostolic visitator for this process, which took nearly seven years from announcement to formal conclusion. At the time of the visit, I was a member of the faculty of the Catholic Theological Union (CTU) in Chicago, teaching in the department of Word and Worship. Bishop Marshall himself led the party of visitors to CTU, and I was invited by the administration to meet with him. My visit with Bishop Marshall was not a happy expe-rience for me, perhaps because intercultural dialogue had not yet been discovered. Upon my being asked "What are you doing here?" my half hour was spent, about equally, in parrying questions about the alleged behavior of oth-ers on the faculty and staff and in defending my inter-pretation of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal and other liturgical norms. Too quickly our conversation ended, and I realized almost at once that I had not had a chance to communicate my appreciation of CTU, its extraordinary faculty and student body, and its commit-ment to educating faithful ministers for the post-Vatican II world church. Furthermore I had been given no oppor-tunity to speak of my own contribution to the mission of CTU. I asked for and was granted a second visit. Why put myself through that experience twice? The words of 1 Peter 3:15 express it best. "Always be pre-pared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gen- Review for Religious tleness and reverence." I wanted to give an account of my hope, based on a faculty where intellectual rigor and faith, were wed, on a student body of women and men from all over the world preparing to commit themselves to a life of service of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and on the local church in Chicago, where the leadership of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin gave extraordinary witness to the very qualities of holiness and gospel service we were trying to nurture in ourselves and instill in our students. For many women religious, hope is what has kept us faithful to this privileged journey in the midst of the numerous challenges of these last several decades. Changing demographics, underfunded ministries, elder care decision-making, conversations towards merger, cus-toms no longer viable, and ministerial needs forever out-stripping our human and material resources--all of these realities have tested congregations and their leaders. At the same time, that basic love and longing for God which brought us to the threshold of religious life still drives us, together, to seek and find God in contemplative prayer, in a life of common purpose, in zeal which keeps even the oldest among us focused on mission. Hope is the glue in religious life today. That hope must be the undercurrent of every exchange during on-site visits. If our visitors discover little else, they should leave with the conviction that hope is why we came to religious life and why we stay and why we get out of bed each morning and why, despite all the challenges and limitations we experience, we try every day to be God's heart on earth. "Always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence." How wise of 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ The Apostolic V'~itation the author of First Peter to link hope to gentleness and reverence, two other habits of heart which we do well to foster. If we do so, the intercultural dialogues in our future will accomplish in all of us, visitors and visited, great transformations of head and heart and mission. Hopeful Expectation What might be expected at the conclusion of this apostolic visitation? Approximately three hundred forty communities of apostolic women religious will have con-tributed to a composite picture of religious life in the United States. Sister M. Clare Millea has the unenviable task of summarizing all the information and impressions gleaned from her visits with major superiors, from the empirical data tabulated from many questionnaires, and from the reports of numerous on-site visits to moth-erhouses and houses of formation. This composite report together with individual reports of the religious orders will be presented to Cardinal Franc Rod~ and the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life. It is to be hoped that major superiors and their councils will have had an opportu-nity to see these reports, to correct factual errors, and to participate inthe assembling of recommendations before their formal presentation to Cardinal Rode. Then what? Here are some possible hope-filled outcomes, first on the institutional level. The Instrumentum laboris poses some thoughtful questions about institutional sponsor-ship, care of the elderly, ongoing formation resources, and so on. In the course of the visitation, it is possible that some "best practices" might emerge--the kind of information that the Leadership Conference of Women Religious has worked to surface and circulate among its Review for Religious members for many years. While respecting the auton-omy of each institute, congregations with similar proj-ects or needs might be invited to consult with other congregations that have addressed similar issues with success. Another institutional prospect might be that those communities no longer viable because of a lack of either personnel or financing might be given the sup-port they need to make decisions for their future. On the personal level, the visitation could have a profound outcome. The Instrumenturn laboris for this visitation has a long series of thoughtful questions for personal study and prayer. These questions touch on the essence of religious life with two serious omissions: contemplation and other forms of solitary prayer are not mentioned, nor is there any reference to the quality and tone of community life, only to religious exercises performed in common. Apart from those lacunae, the document together with its numerous citations of other documents from the Apostolic See is, on balance, a rich resource for reflection and prayer and for conversa-tions within and across communities and congregations. Whether a congregation receives an on-site visit or not, this process has the potential for renewal among us. It also has the possibility of instilling in us a deeper real-ization of our place in the church and a deeper appre-ciation of our work as collaborators with our ordained and professed brothers in the public life of the church. And is it foolish to hope for one last outcome? Is it possible that this Apostolic Visitation might conclude with a resounding "thank you" to nearly sixty thou-sand women who have lived religious life as faithfully as nature and grace could achieve, making God's love known through their ministries and by their very lives? For this, let us pray to the Lord. 29 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation Notes ~ Letter of Cardinal Franc Rod~ to the Superiors General of Congregations of Women Religious in the United States, 2 February 2009. 2 Of approximately 340 eligible communities, 177 responded through visits or letters to Phase One. See the Apostolic Visitation web-site "Update on the Progress of Phase 3 See Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, Instrumentum Laboris for Apostolic Visitation of the General Houses, Provincial Houses, and Centers of Initial Formation of the Principal Religious Institutes of Women in the United States of America. Protocol No. 16805/2008. 4 The Apostolic Visitation website, Frequently Asked Questions. s A copy of the Instrumentum laboris is available on the Apostolic Visitation website. 6 European Roma Information Office, White Paper on Intercultural Dialogue. 7 See the Resource Center for Religious Institutes, The Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States: A Canonical Reflection. 9 March 2009. Review for Religious j. THOMAS HAMEL Discovering What St. Ignatius Does Not Say Having accompanied a number of people on retreat for quite a few years--the ordained, the married and single, religious of various congre-gations-- I continue to delight in seeing that people unacquainted with Ignatius's little book actually mirror it in their own retreat experi-ence. Along with those who are quite famil-iar with Ignatius's words ("Divine Majesty," "God our Lord," "Creator and Lord," "Two Standards," and so forth), they have a retreat experience that is personal, profound, and Ignatian. In this way the Spiritual Exercises show themselves to be primarily oral. The "annotations" that introduce them appear to be the result of conversations throughout the four Weeks of retreat. What happens to the retreatants is usually the very thing Ignatius j. Thomas Hamel SJ last wrote for us in 2008, in our 67.2 issue. His address remains College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. adapting the ignati.an exercises 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say How Jesus Christ is present in creation is how he: is present in the Eucharist. hoped would happen. Retreatants become authors of the Exercises, putting their own experience into words. Enlightened by graces asked for and received, and lis-tened to by their director, they gradually own the experi-ence they has been graced with. "For it is not so much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but rather the intimate feeling and relishing of things.''1 Being led to search out and find in ourselves the desires and ways of God is the touchstone of the Exercises. Ignatius's sober language actually encour-ages us to go beyond his words, and yet at times his notes and suggestions seem like an overload. He takes note of our waking up and going to sleep. He comments on the way we take meals. He pays attention to the warmth of the sun in winter and the effect of closing the shut-ters of our room. His interest in physical posture seems as modern as yoga lessons, not to mention his sensitive and insightful responses to inner changes and emo-tions, high and low and in between. In the end, how-ever, Ignatius does not tell us what to do. He will not interfere with God's coming and communicating (§ 15). Like John the Baptist at Jesus' baptism, Ignatius simply disappears so that retreatants may (like Jesus) hear the Father's voice and feel the Holy Spirit descending like a dove (Mk 1:10-11). A striking instance of Ignatius disappearing in the Exercises is the Principle and Foundation: "The human person is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Review for Religiotls Lord and by so doing to save his or her soul . One must use created things insofar as they help towards one's end, and free oneself from them insofar as they are obstacles to one's end. To do this we need to make ourselves indifferent to all created things" (§23). A subtle glory radiates from the name "God our Lord." It refers to the Trinity, and we know from Ignatius's "autobiography" or Reminiscences~ what great devotion he felt when praying to the Blessed Trinity, often,.with prayers and sobs (Rent §28). If this happened when he saw three keys on a keyboard, what might he have experienced before the triad of praise, reverence, and service of God? What Ignatius does not say here is revealed in the poetry of a mystical experience at Manresa. There is only one way he looks upon the gift of creation: "Once the way in which God had created the world was repre-sented in his understanding, with great spiritual joy: it seemed to him he was seeing a white thing, from which some rays were coming out, and that God was making light out of it" (Rent §29). He also saw "with his interior eyes some things like white rays which were coming from above as the body of the Lord was being raised at Mass" (Rent §29). How Jesus Christ is present in creation is how he is present in the Eucharist. The One who alone can praise, rever-ence, and serve the eternal Father is Creator and Lord (§5). Annotation 5 was traditionally given along with the Principle and Foundation at the beginning of the retreat, and so the glory of Jesus, Creator and Lord, pervades the Principle and Foundation. How appropri-ate that Ignatius would tap our generosity and openness at the beginning of retreat by having us offer our desires and liberty to our Creator and Lord! 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say When Ignatius first arrived at the Benedictine Abbey of Montserrat, he made a general confession that lasted three days. Just how long was his list of sins? If one thing stands out in the First Week, it is the repeated reference to many sins: "How many times I deserved to be damned forever on account of my many sins" (§48). "Numberless other people have gone to hell for fewer sins than I have committed" (§52). "I look at myself. the source of many sins and evils" (§58). Rather than making a theological statement about sin, Ignatius seems to be pointing to his own spiritual journey, without actually saying so. So aware of the mal-ice of sin, he cannot but put into stark language the hor-ror of even one grave sin against one's Creator and Lord. M1 the while, Ignatius never loses sight of God's power, justice, wisdom, and goodness (§59). Suddenly we have a picture of Ignatius hugging himself in sheer wonder and joy before the whole range of created beings. Who are we, prayed over by angels and saints? Who are we, kept alive by earth and sky, stars and sun and moon and " the animal kingdom? (§60). What to do but talk to our Creator and Lord about mercy, and thank God for giv-ing us life to this very moment. When Ignatius left Montserrat after making a gen-eral confession, little did he realize that his own First Week was just beginning. Manresa was not in his plans, but it surely was in God's. There in Manresa the chiv-alrous ex-knight had to be knocked down by scruples. Slowly and painfully he had to learn he was no lon-ger in charge of anything, not even his own sinfulness. Instead of feeling duty-bound to keep on confessing his sins, he had to leave them to God. We can only wonder how many times Ignatius felt that the Lord "willed that he wake up as if from sleep," ever so slowly learning Review for Religious "the difference in kind of spirits through the lessons God had given him," so that at last "he decided, with great clarity, not to confess anything from the past any more. Thus from that day onward he remained free of those scruples, holding it for certain that our Lord in his mercy had willed to liberate him" (Rein §25). "As if from sleep" aptly describes Ignatius recu-perating from the wounds of Pamplona in his home at Loyola. He was given over to daydreaming. Tales of chivalry would foster his fantasies, but the only books available to him were Ludolph the Carthusian's Life of Christ and Jacobus de Voragine's account of lives of the saints. For the first time, in the Flos Sanctorum (or Golden Legend), Ignatius read about the knights of God who did great deeds in the service of the eter-nal Prince, Christ Jesus. Ignatius, it seems, woke up to hear the call of the eternal Lord and King of all people everywhere. Seeing "with the eyes of the imagination the synagogues, towns, and villages where Christ our Lord went preaching" (§91) leads us to see our world here and now immediately present to the risen Lord Jesus calling each of us in particular. The geography of the Kingdom goes from the Holy Land to the world at large and ends up "before your infinite Goodness, and before your glorious Mother and all the saintly men and women of the court of heaven" (§98). The grace not to be deaf to his call is an enormous grace. Summoned to know, love, and follow Jesus of Nazareth means a life-time journey that includes being with Jesus suffering and dying, rising and ascending. The desire to distinguish oneself in loyal dedica-tion is itself a grace. But where does such a desire come from? Before the Kingdom meditation, the last use of the phrase "infinite Goodness" was in the context of sin: the 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say Ignatius does not e~cpect that this offering of oneself will happen right away. horror of sinning "against the infinite Goodness" (§52). Here we find "before your infinite Goodness." The Lord's favor and help are clearly at work in the prayer of oblation (§98). Surely Ignatius himself is among those who desire to distinguish themselves, though he does not say this. David Fleming captures the energy and emotion of the prayer: "Those who are of great heart and are on fire with zeal to follow Jesus" (~97).3 Of course, Ignatius does not expect that this offer-ing of oneself will happen right away, or even in the same words. What is of great moment is the coming together of desire, feel-ing, and imagination, radiating in some myste-rious way the glory of the risen Jesus. Imagine the change of feeling from having sinned against infi-nite Goodness to having a ~ heart on fire with zealous . desires and seeing in faith the Mother of Jesus in glory along with all the saints waiting to hear what I want to say. Among the saints that Ignatius read about at Loyola was St. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch. The account of his life opens: "The name Ignatius comes from the Latin ignem patiens, which means being on fire with love of God.''4 For Ignatius of Loyola ignem patiens describes the Second, Third, and Fourth Weeks of the Exercises. In contemplating the mysteries of Jesus' life, I am reminded of the Song of Songs: "How right it is to love you" (Sg 1:4). Such assurance is the fruit of inte-rior knowing nourished and fed by desire, feeling, and imagination. In the Second Week the fifth of each day's Review for Religious prayer periods highlights the imagination. In the prayer of the senses, we are to imagine what the three Divine Persons are saying, what our Lady is saying to her new-born at his birth (§123). In this way we are further drawn into their pres-ences, where we may pause to imagine what we could say to the Holy Trinity, or to the Mother of Jesus, or to the Newborn. During the retreat we speak from different positions, whether as friend, servant, or sin-ner (§54), not to mention as child, as beloved, and so forth. In our prayer of the senses and in the colloquies we make, an oral history is taking shape. The same is true of repetitions. In contrast to all that Ignatius says about preparation for prayer, along with detailed aids to prayer, he has very little to say about the repetitions. He clearly expects, however, that something will happen. These are his words: After the preparatory prayer and two preambles, repeat the First and Second Exercises, noting and dwelling upon the points where I have felt greater consolation or desolation or greater spiritual relish. (§62) After the preparatory prayer and the three pre-ambles, the repetitions of Exercises 1 and 2 will be made, attention always being given to any more important places where one has experienced new insight, consolation, or desolation. (§ 118) Two repetitions will be made on the First and Second Contemplations at the times of Mass and Vespers. (§204) Listening to the "sounds" of movements is at the heart of repetition. The peace and quiet that flow from a sense of being so loved by God is like hearing water falling upon a sponge; agitation, disturbance, any resistance to God is like hearing water fall upon a stone (§335). In the meditation on the Two Standards, Ignatius has 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say a great deal to say and little is left to the imagination. Lucifer is described as "sitting on a throne of fire and smoke in Babylon, while in a great plain of the region of Jerusalem stands Christ our Lord, his appearance comely and gracious" (§§138, 140, 144), who "selects apostles, disciples, etc. and sends them out over the world spreading his sacred doctrine" (§145). Christ our Lord, leader of all good, draws us to spiritual poverty and to the surprising joy of being chosen to imitate his humility and so to come to know the true life. In the first contemplation of the Second Week, a battle was already alluded to with people living in great blindness, wounding, killing, and going to hell, etc. (§106). The enemy of human nature is clearly at work sending demons to every region of the world to get peo-ple to crave riches and honors, thereby ending up with swollen pride. In contrast are the goodness of spiritual and actual poverty and the consolation of being allowed to share in the insults and rejection that Christ suffered. Could it be that here is the seed of the Suscipe prayer? When growing up in Nazareth, did Jesus himself begin to pray the Suscipe and Ignatius heard it? May we imag-ine the Suscipe becoming the song of the beloved dis-ciples when they are fishing on the Sea of Galilee, or all the more when they are sent out to preach? (§281.3). They were to travel without gold or silver, and Ignatius adds the abbreviation "etc." (Versio Prima text). It is noteworthy that "etc." occurs over forty times in the Exercises, chiefly in the Vulgate text, and thirteen times in the Reminiscences. The et cetera's in the Exercises may be nothing more than space savers. They might, however, also be an invitation to complete a thought, a sentence, or a scriptural quotation. In the opening days of the Second Week, the autograph text mentions "etc." Review for Religious twice, while in the Vulgate text it occurs fourteen times. "The Blessed Virgin burst with joy in this canticle: 'My soul magnifies the Lord, etc.'" (§263). It would seem that we are being invited to complete her canticle. At the birth of Jesus "all of a sudden a multitude of the celestial militia joined the angel, praising God and saying: 'Glory to God in the highest, etc.'" (§264). The words "and on earth peace among those whom he favors" are left to us to sing, all the while imagining ourselves as poor servants waiting on Mary and Joseph. Another unnamed angel comes to the shepherds nearby: "I announce to you a great joy, etc. Today a Savior is born for you, etc. After their visit they returned, 'giv-ing glory and praise to God, etc.'" (§265). Later, in the temple, Simeon took the child in his arms, blessed God, and said, "Now, Lord, let your servant go, etc." (§268). As we complete his Nunc Dimittis, are we holding the Child? Later still, after the unexpected night journey, etc., into Egypt, the Holy Family is back in Nazareth, where the Child grows in wisdom, age, and grace etc. (§271). These texts, replete with et cetera's, nourish our desires, feelings, and imagination in reflecting upon the mysteries of Jesus' early life. During all those years at Nazareth, I wonder if Jesus ever climbed Mount Tabor, which is fairly close by. There came a day on that mountain when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of his three dearest dis-ciples, Peter, James, and John. Upon hearing a resound-ing voice from heaven announcing "This is my beloved Son, etc., listen to him," they were frightened and fell to the ground, but Jesus came and touched them. He said, "Get up and be not afraid, etc." (§284). Why would the beloved disciples fear the Father's voice of intimacy? How many books have been written about the fear of 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say Is it by mere chance that comes immediately after "be not afraid"? Ignatius leaVes that to us. God? Is it by mere chance that "etc." comes immedi-ately after "be not afraid"? Ignatius leaves that to us. In the Third Week, Ignatius focuses more on Christ our Lord's interior sufferings than on his external suf-ferings. In this way he simply allows the Gospel nar-ratives to speak for themselves as we strive to remain at Jesus' side every step of the way, imagining what he might be saying to his Father. On the first day of the Third Week, Ignatius wants us to nttice whether the road from Bethany to Jerusalem is "broad or narrow, level, etc.," and similarly to notice the place of the sup-per (§192). On the morning of the same first day, Ignatius again considers the road from the place of the supper, Mount Zion, to the valley of Josaphat, "and also the garden, whether - - -- wide, whether long, whether of one form or another" (§202). "With the eyes of the imagination" he sees the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem, its length, whether flat or through valleys or over hills; and also the place of the grotto of the nativ-ity, how big or small, how high, and what is in it (~112). Roads, of course, lead to a place, like the grotto or the garden or the upper room. One would expect, then, another consideration regarding the length and breadth of the Via Dolorosa, but that is left to our imagination. We are even encouraged to imagine ourselves seeing Jesus eating with his disciples (while we eat, §214), and this is the event that opens the Third Week. Jesus says, Review for Religious "Take and eat, etc." (~289). His supreme sign of love in the Eucharist creates the church community. "Take and eat" will be heard until the end of time. Nothing is spared in asking for the grace proper to the Passion. From grief, brokenness, and tears to this interior suffering, how he suffers for my sins, etc. (§197). This particular "etc." lifts us into Jesus' heart, where we are reminded that his "labors, weariness, and grief began at the moment of his birth" (§206, re Addition 6, §78). Once the Lord is put in bonds, his name is only Jesus, as in his early life. From then on, Jesus is silent until he speaks from the cross. Through all his silences we may imagine what he was saying to his Father and in turn what we want to say to his Mother, to him, and to the Father in the triple colloquies. From house to house Jesus is led back and forth. It seems worthy of note that the Third Week does not end at the tomb of our Lord's burial but at the house where our Lady went. The seventh day of the Third Week is spent with our Lady in her loneliness and grief, and, on the other hand, on recalling the bitter loneliness of the dis-ciples (§208, 7th day). There is no scriptural reference to our Lady's loneliness and grief, and when the risen Christ appears to his Mother there is no mention of the doors of her house being closed. Oral tradition, not Scripture, supports the Lord's appearance to her. She is the perfect instance of our Creator and Lord communicating himself to a faithful soul, "inflaming her in his love" (§ 15, reading abrasdndola for abrazdndola). Curiously enough, for those who may doubt, Ignatius quotes a line of Scripture: "Are you also without understanding?" (Mt 15:16). After we have spent a whole day with our Lady in her loneliness, what can compare with experiencing her exultation upon meeting her Son risen from the 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say tomb? His appearing to her is the first of many appear-ances. Ignatius seems to delight in recounting every single appearance of the risen Christ, just as he seems to relish seeing us present to our Lady's great gladness and rejoicing over our Lord's glory and joy (§221). Her house is transformed, her oratory is the new sanctuary of an infant church, of which she is the sign. The Holy Spirit is newly present in these Fourth Week mysteries. The disciples are given the Holy Spirit. Jesus has said to them: "Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you will remit, they are remitted, etc." (§304.3, Vulgate text). The infant church itself is in need of reconciliation in the person of the apostle Thomas. It happens on the eighth day of the resurrection. Cyril of Alexandria writes: "With good reason we are accustomed to having sacred meetings in churches on the eighth day" (Commentary on the Gospel of John). The church proclaims, "When we eat this bread and drink this cup we proclaim your death, Lord Jesus, until you come in glory." The apostle Thomas, who all too keenly experienced the death of his Master, has to wait until he comes in the glory of his wounds. So Jesus says to him, "Put your .finger here and see etc., and be not unbelieving but believing" (§305.2, Versio Prima text). Christ the Lord .is living within his new church when he appears to Thomas and to ourselves in our unbelief before the mystery of the resurrection. Christ lives on in his church, appearing again to Thomas and six other disciples on the shore of Lake Tiberius. He is Lord of the sea as well as Lord of the Sabbath when he brings about a huge catch of fish. Who counted all 153 of them? Of the fish they had just caught, Jesus "gave them some bread and fish, etc. (§306.3, Vulgate text). Did Jesus first bless the bread, Review for Religious then break it? And were there leftovers? After the hot breakfast, there is one more catch: three times Jesus asks Peter "Do you love me?" and each time tells him to feed his sheep. Jesus commissions his new church to feed his flock, chiefly with the Eucharist. To hear Thomas's confession "My Lord and my God," to hear Peter's confession "Lord, you know all things, you know that I love you," to hear the Lord of Mount Tabor say "Go and teach all peoples" (§307): this is already to hear the Suscipe being sung. Do we hear Mary, Mother of the risen Lord, Mary Magdalene, the other Marys, the couple on their way to Emmaus, the fishermen of Tiberius, other disciples behind closed doors, the five hundred brethren together, St. James, Joseph of Arimathea, and St. Paul all singing the Suscipe? Is that not one of the ways friends experience consolation, including Jesus himself, who is the glory and generosity of the Father? With what affection and with what great love may we hear him say: "All that I have and possess you gave it all to me; to you, Father, I give it all back" (§234). The great joys of gratitude are all found in the Suscipe. With what great desires would God our Lord, the angels, and the saints want to hear us repeat the Suscipe? Participating in this prayer may fittingly be one of the "holy effects of the most holy resurrection" (§223). The Suscipe may not even be the last word. Ignatius leaves it to our creativity to consider some other way of thanksgiving that we feel to be better (§235). And what we may feel to be a better gift can only be due to God at work giving being, conserving life, granting growth and feeling, etc. (§236). "For it is not much knowledge but the inner feeling and relish of things that fills and satisfies the soul" (§2). Ignatius 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering Wbat Ignatius Does Not Say was fond of concluding his letters by saying: "May His perfect grace be granted to all of us always to feel and fully accomplish His most holy will.''5 Although love is shown more in deeds than in words, Ignatius for his part is more wordy than usual in the Contemplation to Arrive at Love (§230). His words seem to carry the weight of deeds. This is evident in the first point of the Contemplatio where Ignatius refers to "particular gifts" (§234). Naturally these particular gifts are individual and personal; and yet, without say-ing so, it appears likely that Ignatius had in mind "the true bride of Christ our Lord, our holy mother, the hierarchical church" (§353), which--like our Lady as the new temple of the Lord's dwelling--humbly gives thanks to the Divine Majesty (§108). A vision of church rather than of the individual arises in the fourth point of the Contemplatio. The church's power, her goodness, her sense of justice, piety, mercy, etc. reflect the supreme and infinite power, goodness, justice, loving kindness, and mercy of her Lord and eternal King (§237). I am reminded that, when Ignatius traveled to the Holy Land, he did not have time to see Nazareth, watch sun-beams sparkle across the Sea of Galilee, or climb Mount Tabor. But he did see these holy places in his imagination, where his desires and dreams appeared. Later in Rome, seeing Christ "like a sun" as he had in Manresa (Rein §99), he saw the pilgrim church of the disciples go forth and teach all people, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (§307). Likewise it is the story of Jesus that invites, challenges, and informs our ser-vice in the world. It is not by accident that the majority of Ignatius's et cetera's follow upon a biblical text. Just as the Scriptures never come to an end, there is no last medita-tion or contemplation in the Spiritual Exercises. Review for Religious Ignatius says goodbye to retreatants (as directors do), but seeking and finding seem to become a never ending duet. There is no final step, nor does the music have any final note. Providence goes on giving birth to God's deeper presence within us and even to our pres-ence to ourselves. As Karl Rahner wrote, "God speaks us to ourselves.''6 In some analogous fashion, is this not what Ignatius also does? As we make the Exercises, per-haps Ignatius is speaking each of us as their author. Notes ~ Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Personal Writings: Reminiscences, Spiritual Diary, Select Letters, including the text of The Spiritual Exercises, ed. and trans. Joseph Munitiz and Philip Endean (London: Penguin Books, 1996), §2. Hereafter I will refer to the Exercises by giving the paragraph number in parentheses. ~ Reminiscences, §28. Hereafter I will refer to this text with Rein and the paragraph number in parentheses. 3 David L. Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 87, §97. 4 Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints, 2 vols., trans. William Granger Ryan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), I:140. 5 Personal Writings, Select Letters #38, p. 275. 6 Harvey Egan SJ, Karl Rabner: Mystic of Everyday Life (New York: Crossroad Publishing Co., 1998), p. 84. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Hamel points out that the Ignatian Exercises in their language structure call for the retreatant's involve-ment. As you have experience retreats, have you felt the freedom to follow the promptings of God's grace? 4Y 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering Wlzat Ignatius Does Not Say 2. Can you give some examples of certain scripture passages that continue to open up new meanings .and insights for you? Transformation Behold the glory of a rose. All it has to do is be. From tightly closed bud to emerging blossom to exquisite flower - it happens so slowly that very few notice. The gentle rain, the warming sun, the nurturing soil - all contribute to the life within. Holy Spirit, the power of your love is my source of transformation. All I have to do is be in You. Mary Frances Herkender SND 46 Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation at Ignatius is primarily trying to do in the ¯ ¯ Kingdom meditation, and many miss the point, is to create a major shift in the retreatant's mind. The shift is necessary in order to have a proper mindset for the Second Week of the Exercises. It is a mindset quite different from that of the First Week. Theologically, it is a shift in how one sees one's purpose in life. The shift goes from simply seeking one's own salva-tion, which is probably the purpose of most believers, to committing oneself to a divine project on Earth. Ignatius has Christ refer to the divine project as "the work" (SpEx §96). In committing to this work, one's attention and energy shift from personal salvation to involvement in the divine project. For the retreatant, this shift is from avoiding sin and getting to heaven to a new goal: accepting responsibility for helping change the human face of the earth.1 Louis M. Savary has given many lectures, workshops, and classes on the spirituality of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation After the retreatants' First Week preoccupation with Christ's forgiving their sins and enabling their salvation, the Kingdom meditation may come as a surprise--when its meaning dawns on them. It presents retreatants with a new and grand "horizon," as the Jesuit philosopher Bernard Lonergan might describe it. Their attention expands from a narrow spotlight on their personal life to a horizon as big as the world. In this meditation Ignatius wants retreatants to begin thinking globally, looking toward "a much larger horizon than they had been living within" during the First Week.2 The Divine Project Christ's project, as we read in Ignatius's Kingdom text, involves nothing less than transforming the "whole world." It will certainly call for hard work ("share the labor with me"), and will require great generosity of ser-vice ("make offerings of greater worth and moment").3 Ignatius wants retreatants to recognize that in this medi-tation Jesus is inviting them to join him in a special proj-ect, initiated by God, which is so important that it needed God's own Son to reveal it clearly and accurately.4 Many ordinary Christians, those who try merely to save their own souls, fail to hear this call. Ignatius hopes to find "worthy knights" who hear Jesus' call to establish the reign of God on earth and who want to work with others to make it happen. He recommends that the one giving the Exercises be sure that the retreatant is ready to hear this call and has the generosity to respond to it.5 Jesus, in the Ignatian text, is clearly.proposing and working toward a historical result. His project has to do with what we humans, with his help, are meant to accomplish here and now for a better planetary future. It has to do with changing history and how people live Review for Religious and interact on earth. The project is far bigger than simply baptizing as many people as possible. As the hymn to the Holy Spirit puts it, humanity's true pur-pose with the Spirit's help is to "renew the face of the earth." It is a project that goes far beyond keeping the commandments and avoiding sin. In this meditation we enter into Jesus' vision and dream for humanity. Joseph Tetlow says Ignatius wants you to "feel the excitement of a call to transcend everyday concerns.''6 A New Purpose in Life Most people live their entire lives concerned about food, shelter, and clothing. They may think about the future, but mostly about everyday concerns. Their life purpose is to take care of daily wants and needs--food, grooming, safety, security, accep-tance, approval, belong-ing, esteem, and personal development. They see no '4' larger horizon than that. Speaking of everyday concerns, Jesus said, "All these things the pagans seek." He adds, "Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides" (Mt 6:32-33). Jesus calls his hearers to a new life purpose: finding out what the worldwide kingdom project wants from you ("seek first the kingdom of God"), carrying it out, and letting God take care of the rest. This worldwide transformation, the divine project, begins in individuals with a special kind of repentance, Repentance in this context " much closer to a change :" lifepurpose, 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation a change of heart, which is quite different from sorrow for sin. Repentance in this context is much closer to a change in life purpose. "Repent for the reign of God is among you.''7 Most Christians do not really spend much time meditating on this simple, foundational statement. When understood, it calls for a new way of looking at ourselves, the human family, and all of creation; it means establishing the reign of God. Individually, the "work" calls for a change in mind-set because it requires people to begin thinking about transforming all of humanity and the planet rather than simply saving their own soul. It also calls for a conver-sion of heart because Jesus asks us to love all people and to accept responsibility for everyone, rather than limiting our responsibility to our own life and immediate family. Instead of merely waiting for the gift of salvation from God on high, Ignatius hears in the call of Christ an invita-tion to shoulder the creative responsibility of "living for others."8 Instead of the abstract virtues or commandments required for salvation, Jesus emphasizes the practical contributions each person's talents and abilities can bring to this divine project on earth. Once we under-stand Christ's divine project, says Tetlow, "each of us, with God, must create our own response.''9 Jesus in his teachings and miracles is announcing what Juan Luis Segundo calls a "project-Christology" that is "centered around the reign of God on earth.''I° In the light of this project, we each have a destiny, a part, that we alone can fulfill. Love Is Central in God's Plan Jesus reveals that God is unconditional love and that this love is active and plan-centered. In other words, Revie~v for Religious God's love is not just responsive to individual and col-lective human needs as they happen to occur; it is also forward looking, proactive, and evolutionary. God has had a loving plan for his creation since the beginning. It was enunciated by Christ. It is spelled out in Jesus' teachings, and it is all about love. Psychologically, we know that love blossoms and matures where the lovers have a shared project and a shared dedication to it. We are invited--no, com-manded- by Jesus to love one another. We may be invited to join the ranks of the "knights" who follow Jesus, but once we join we are commanded to love one another. Nothing less than unconditional love for all humans and all of creation will suffice. The love Jesus (and Ignatius) is talking about is no infatuation or emo-tional attachment. It is a mature love that thrives on sharing the responsibility for a project--"that they may be one as you, Father, and I are one" (Jn 17:20-23).13 Each individual is called to become God's coworker (synergos in Greek; see 1 Co 3:8-9, 21-23) in establish-ing God's reign on earth. Kingdom as Reign Many scripture scholars emphasize this Christological project by suggesting that Jesus' use of the word "king-dom" is less about physical boundaries and more about God's reigning. To reign is to do something. When you talk about a king "reigning," you are referring to his plans for the future of his people and the ways he wants his wishes to be carried out. Such reigning includes the effective fulfillment of the king's will in the structures of society under his charge. It means carrying out the king's program or "standard.''~ As the divine "stan-dards" (such as the beatitudes) become more and more 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius'~ Kingdom Meditation established on earth, there will be ever-increasing love. From this will follow conditions of freedom, justice, equality, peace, and so forth for all human beings and respect for all creation. So, in this meditation, when people think the call of the temporal king (to conquer infidel lands) applies directly to the call of the divine King, they need to note that Ignatius's words refer to a conquest, not by the sword, but by covering the planet with people full of unconditional love. It is only love that will conquer all. It is probably appropriate to say that the Kingdom med-itation is really a parable about the power and attraction of real love on the human heart, more than about kings and knights.12 An Evolutionary Viewpoint of the Kingdom Pierre Teilhard de Chardin reminds us that the divine project did not begin with Jesus' public ministry two thousand years ago. It started about fourteen bil-lion years ago at the Big Bang. Creation itself has been a book of divine revelation that we are just beginning to learn to read with the help of science. According to Teilhard, God implanted his love in every particle that burst forth at the first moment of creation. Everything that exists lives in what Teilhard calls a Divine Milieu of love, and this Divine Milieu is the Universal Body of Christ On 1:3). As St. Paul says, "In him we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28). In studying the evolution of the universe, Teilhard dis-covered a law that has been operative since the Big Bang. He called it the Law of Complexity-Consciousness.13 Expressed more completely, it is the Law of Attraction- Connection-Complexity-Consciousness.14 It asserts that the universe is not static or cyclical, but has always been Review for Reli~ous on the move. Furthermore, its evolutionary movement has a direction. From the beginning, it has been mov-ing toward higher levels of complexity and conscious-ness-- or to higher levels of interiority, if you wish. ~s In simple language, the law of attraction is at work everywhere. All units, from atomic particles up to human beings, are attracted to other units to form con-nections. In first-year chemistry class, you learned about the Table of Chemical Elements. These connections of subatomic particles that evolved over time are listed on the Table from the simplest to the most complex. Connections are, by definition, more complex than the elements that make them up. Vvnnen evolution is looked at over eons, it is clear that this law of attraction-connection-complexity has been at work, especially on our planet, in generating forms of life. After about a billion years of trying, Earth finally evolved single-celled creatures. And over another billion years the continually evolving Earth gave birth to life forms with increasing complexity--insects, plants, trees, flowers, fish, reptiles, birds, mammals. Consciousness and awareness appeared and increased. Starting about a hundred thousand years ago, the Law of Attraction-Connection-Complexity-Consciousness generated not only human beings on Earth, but also societies, cultures, arts, and sciences. For Teilhard, this Law is universal. It applies not only to biology, but to all levels of existence. Over many millennia, psychologi-cal, social, and cultural evolution has been happening and keeps happening, following that same divine law. As Henry Kenney puts it, for Teilhard "there is only one cosmically integrated evolution. Physical and social evolution are an essential part of this one evolution.''~6 Can this understanding of evolution help us to 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation understand the divine project? If that general law of divine love that Teilhard discovered studying the book of creation is accurate, then it is clear how we can foster the divine project. We simply follow the universal evo-lutionary law. We do it, first, by making ourselves attrac-tive for more connections and relationships. Second, we welcome connections and the complexity they bring to our lives. Third, the struggle to live lovingly in that complexity will bring us, fourth, to greater consciousness of who we are, who we are meant to become, and how we can respond to the call of Christ. Teilhard's law does not contradict any of the laws Christ gave; it merely applies them more broadly in our scientific world. For example, it allows people to see in their professions and careers how their work contributes to the divine project and promotes the reign of God. Kingdom and Cosmos God's divine Word has been breathing into the universe the divine creative Spirit for almost fourteen billion years. During all these eons, God's wisdom has been watching creation grow and evolve in complexity and consciousness. This ever-expanding cosmos, which God loved so much that he sent his only Son to become one with it and to show us that love, must be a special part of the Kingdom of God. This evolving cosmos is the original and continual blessing God has been giv-ing to us since the Big Bang. God has been waiting for us to emerge from within it and become conscious of its almost infinite temporal stretch of divine revelation and blessing--and become conscious of the divine law of love that Teilhard identified. God not only has immersed us and all of creation in this Divine Milieu, but also has written upon our hearts Review for Religious the desire to know, love, and care for the cosmos (and everything in it)--as God knows, loves, and cares for it. To do this with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength is to love as God loves. To learn to love God passion-ately, we must learn to love the cosmos passionately.~7 With the incarnation, God has doubly sanctified this cosmos. Not only is the cosmos one single immense entity beloved of God and living in the Divine Milieu; it is also, in Christian lan-guage, living within God's own Son, as part of his Body, the Total Christ. All of creation lives and moves and has its being in this Universal Christ. With these ideas Teilhard introduces us to an evolutionary way of under-standing the Kingdom meditation. ' :With the incarnation, Godhas doubly sanctified 'i this cosmos. A Prelude to the Kingdom Meditation A quotation from the jacket of a recent book may best provide an Ignatian "history" prelude a for new century's Kingdom meditation: The dawn of the twenty-first century has witnessed two remarkable developments in our history: the appearance of systemic problems that are genu-inely global in scope, and the growth of a worldwide movement that is determined to heal the wounds of the earth with the force of passion, dedication, and collective intelligence and wisdom. Across the planet groups ranging from ad-hoc neighborhood associa-tions to well-funded international organizations are confronting issues like the destruction of the envi-ronment, the abuses of free-market fundamentalism, social justice, and the loss of indigenous cultures. They share no orthodoxy or unifying ideology; they 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation follow no single charismatic leader; they remain sup-ple enough to coalesce easily into larger networks to achieve their goals. While they are mosdy unrecog-nized by politicians and the media, they are bringing about what may one day be judged the single most profound transformation of human society.18 According to the author of that book, Paul Hawken, there are at least two million organizations worldwide working toward ecological sustainability and social jus-tice. This vast collection of committed individuals does not constitute a traditional "movement," nor does it have one charismatic person inspiring or directing it. It is a global, leaderless conglomerate that reaches every corner of the world. Hawken says it is "dispersed, incho-ate, and fiercely independent. It has no shared manifesto or common doctrine, no overriding authority to check with.''~9 It is taking shape, however, in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, companies, deserts, fisheries, slums, and hotel rooms. From an evolutionary perspective, the movement is the most complex collection of human beings ever assem-bled. Most people know only the organization or two they chose to link with, but the movement's overall global database is mammoth. This collection of organizations is tackling issue~ that governments are failing to face: energy, jobs, conservation, poverty, and global warming. Its function as a coherent system is mysterious. Compelling, coherent, innovative, organic, self-organized congregations involving tens of millions of people are dedicated to change. "What I see," says Hawken, "are ordinary and some not-so-ordinary indi-viduals willing to confront despair, power, and incalcu-lable odds in an attempt to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.''z° According Review for Religious to Hawken, while in the past most people filed griev-ances only with respect to themselves, this new move-ment involves millions of people working altruistically on behalf of strangers. Individually and together they think and speak for the planet. For them, healing the wounds of the earth in this way is a sacred act. This unnamed movement is a healing life force striv-ing for social justice and planetary welfare under and through and around national boundaries. All these small and large groups are intertwining, creating worldwide a web of relationships that are increasingly conducive to life. Perhaps this perspective can serve the Kingdom meditation. An Evolutionary Kingdom Meditation Part One: Ten Thousand Earthly Leaders First Point. Perhaps, instead of an earthly king, Teilhard might ask us to imagine ten thousand leaders spread all over the cities and villages of the earth, people of all races and classes, of all religions and no religion, young and old, rich and poor, in storefronts and board-rooms, in homes and churches, in classrooms and picket lines, in jungles and around campfires, in laboratories and offices. These leaders represent ten thousand dif-ferent groups, all rising above their daily difficulties, finding ten thousand different ways to improve the earth and the beings on it. These "activist" groups are committed to bringing human rights to all. They con-front local injustice or seek multinational solutions to world hunger and poverty. Scientists seek new drugs to alleviate suffering. Authors and journalists suggest solu-tions to local and world problems. Educators concern themselves with literacy and other areas of knowledge. Some people try to solve employment problems. Some 69.1 2010 Savary * Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation address ecological concerns. Some are philosophers and theologians, some are concerned parents. Some people have dedicated their lives to meditation and to prayer for world peace, for an end to war and terrorism. Every field or life path you can imagine is represented by these ten thousand leaders. Second Point. Imagine yourself standing in this crowd, not knowing where to turn or whom to speak with, and one or two of these leaders approach you. You discover they are persons just like you working in the same area of interest. They describe their work and their aim to improve the lives of others in their circle of influence. You feel their excitement and enthusiasm. It is contagious. They may even suggest ways that you could uniquely help them pursue their purpose. Other leaders are approaching other persons like you who have found their way here. In stages-of-consciousness language, these leaders would be encouraging people to grow beyond their egocentric and ethnocentric stages of development and commit themselves to anthropocentric and geocentric mindsets.21 Anyone failing to support and find a way to actively participate in one or more of these programs might be considered an unworthy or unconscious citi-zen of the earth. Part Two: The Universal Christ While you imagine yourself still standing amid these ten thousand leaders, you can imagine Christ speaking to you as a voice heard in your heart: You see all these people representing thousands of small-to-large organizations worldwide, each doing its own small part to transform the world. They and all their groups live and move and have their being in me. They were meant to come into being and work Review for Religious in peaceful and loving concern for the betterment of all. Each small and large group has been part of the Creator's plan and vision from the beginning of time. That vision is to bring all creation together in one supreme loving union. These people love Earth and all of creation. I invite you to find the individuals and groups that you are most attracted to and most qualified to help, and commit yourself to supporting them. For we all have a long evolutionary way to go to fulfill the Creator's plan. When you hear these leaders speaking to you, realize that it is I speaking to you. When you work with them, realize that it is I working with you, alongside you. Those who want to be more devoted and signalize themselves in service of the Body of Christ will not only offer their persons to the labor required for the Creator's project, but will also make offerings of greater value 'and greater importance, saying:22 Eternal Creator of all things, I make my oblation with your favor and help, in the presence of your divine Son and in the presence of our compassionate Mother and all the saints of heaven: I want and desire, and it is nay deliberate choice and determination, with all my heart and mind and soul and strength, to be an instrument of your love and healing in the world. I beg for energy and clarity,23 so that I will contribute in all the ways I can, whatever the cost, to building up the Universal Body of your divine Son on earth as long as I live. Summing Up and Going Forward The job of achieving world peace and justice in today's world is too big for any one person or orga-nization. It is the work of thousands of organizations and individuals worldwide, rich and poor, cooperating in achieving a world at peace and an environment, a milieu, where life can be safe.24 69,1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Teilhard offers us a fuller picture of the "work" of God's reign. It integrates fourteen billion years of divine revelation that science is teaching us how to read. In the Law of Attraction-Connection-Complexity- Consciousness, he offers people in every walk of life specific ways of cooperating in the evolving divine plan. He shows how the global humanitarian movements coming up everywhere are organically inspired by the Divine Milieu. They represent an instinctive collective response of the human spirit, inspired by God, to many different needs and challenges around the planet. What these people and groups are in effect telling us, perhaps still unconscious of what they are saying, is that the Body of Christ is alive and well in our day.25 Notes t George Aschenbrenner SJ points out that Ignatius uses words like "all" and "whole" to emphasize that this meditation takes retreatants beyond their individual selves. It is a call to universal salvation. See his Stretched for the Greater Glory (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), pp. 68 and 98. 2 Joseph A. Tetlow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 90. 3 See Tetlow, Ignatius, pp. 95, 97. 4 See John 3:16-21. Jesus' project--actually it is the Father's project--encompasses the cosmos, the universe. It includes "living the truth" about creation--what it is and where it is going. s Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 90. "Ignatius would not continue an exerci-tant into the next three Weeks unless the exercitant had a great desire to go into them. That desire--to continue in the Spiritual Exercises a search for something more--itself comes as a gift from the Spirit of God." Aschenbrenner, Stretched, p. 66, makes the same point. 6 Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 91. Aschenbrenner, Stretched, pp. 66-68, sug-gests three prerequisites for truly grasping the call of the Kingdom. The first two are "a desire to know Jesus in your unique vocation" and "a capacity for intimacy." The third is "some personal lived expe-rience of the need for salvation and liberation in the social dimension of our world." Review for Religious 7 The theme of John the Baptist's preaching was "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand"; Jesus does not modify that message at all (Mr 3:2 & 4:17). John and Jesus are talking about the same divine project. Jesus merely enlarges upon it in his other sermons. s See Rm 14:7, 20-23; Mt 25:34-40. 9 Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 92. ,0 Juan Luis Segundo SJ, The Christ of the Ignatian Exercises (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1987), p. 96. ~ This seems to be Ignatius's intent in using the word "standard" in the Two Standards. His king's "standard" stands for his plan and its fulfillment. ,2 See Aschenbrenner, Stretched, pp. 66-67, 72-73. ,3 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Phenomenon of Man, 2nd ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. 300. ,4 See Louis M. Savary, The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), pp. 29-30. '~ See W. Henry Kenney SJ, A Path through Teilhard's Phenomenon (Dayton: Pflaum Press, 1970), pp. 60-64. 16 Kenney, Path, p. 70. ,7 While Aschenbrenner, Stretched, says the grace for this medita-tion is to "fall in love with Jesus" (p. 66), Teilhard would have you also ask for the grace to fall in love and become "intimate" with the cosmos. While Ignatius focuses on Christ of the Gospels, Teilhard focuses on the Cosmic Christ. ,8 Paul Hawken, Blessed Unrest: How the Largest Movement in the World Came into Being and Why No One Saw It Coming (New York: Viking, 2007). You may enjoy a short video: http://www.blessedun rest.com/video.html ,9 Hawken, Blessed, p. 3. 20 Hawken, Blessed, p. 4. 2, Here egocentric would imply caring only about my own salva-tion. An ethnocentric stage would imply putting a high value on pro-tecting and caring for my family, my tribe, my country, my race, my gender, my religion. The anthropocentric stage would mean desiring to protect and care for all human beings, seeing them as my brothers and sisters under God our Father. A fourth stage, geocentric, is emerg-ing around the planet; it means extending my care and concern to all living things. We all share one planet. 22 SpEx §98, adapted. Ignatius sometimes suggests specific col-loquies, but a colloquy must always come from each one's heart. 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Aschenbrenner, Stretched, p. 74, says, "You must make the offering that is in your heart." He notes, though, that a major function of this colloquy is to lead the retreatant into the exercises of the Second Week. 23 VChile Ignatius suggests that the retreatant ask for "injury, affronts, and poverty," Teilhard feels that there will be plenty of unwanted "diminishments" to endure if one commits oneself with energy and clarity to the divine project of building the Body of Christ on Earth. See Teilhard's Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1962, 1968), Section Two, "The Divinization of Our Passivities." 24 Ignatius does not identify the Kingdom with the Roman Catholic Church, but sees Christ's reign as including all people and all the world. Teilhard might say that Christ inspires everyone with the desire to promote the loving unity of all beings, but that many of us are not yet conscious of that desire, and that many of those who are conscious of it have not yet followed that desire. Evoking that commitment is the purpose of Ignatius's Kingdom meditation. 25 Hawken, Blessed, pp. 4-5, says: "We must also remember that humans are frail and imperfect. People are not always literate or educated. Most families in the world are impoverished and may suffer from chronic illnesses. The poor cannot always get the right foods for proper nutrition, and must struggle to feed and educate their young. If citizens with such burdens can rise above their quotidian difficulties and act with the clear intent to confront exploitation and bring about restoration, then something powerful is afoot. And it is not just the poor, but people of all races and classes everywhere in the world." Review for Religious ANN MARIE PAUL Gleanings from My First Ten Years It is still difficult for me to believe that the time passed so quickly. July 2009 marked ten years since I entered the Sisters of Christian Charity, and August 2009 saw the profession of my perpetual vows. Shortly before that, I was asked what advice I would give to those just starting out. Although fully cognizant that I s611 have much to learn, I came up with pieces of advice that were too numerous to count. After omitting many important items (includ-ing emptying trash cans and filling the car's gas tank), I have committed myself to the fol-lowing tidbits. Be grateful, no matter what. A few years ago I lived in a convent with a sister who was commemorating the 60th anniversary of her entrance into the community. I asked her, Ann Marie Paul SCC wrote as a novice an article we pub-lished in 2001. Her address is Divine Providence Hospital Convent; 1100 Grampian Boulevard; Williamsport, Pennsylvania 17701. from young and old 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years "What do you have to say on this auspicious occasion?" Without skipping a beat, she answered, "Three words: Thank you, Jesus!" What a lesson for me and for all younger religious-- Be grateful, no matter what! Living community life calls for gratitude in abundance. The five convents where I lived during these ten years have provided numerous reasons for expressing gratitude. I am grateful for the welcome I received from the sisters and the guidance they gave me--everything from where to find extra toilet paper to how to persevere in living my vows. I am grate-ful for the extra effort these women expended not only in making me feel at home but also in making me who I am today. I am grateful for the way they live and love in community and the example they have been for me. But that is the easy part of thankfulness--being grateful to those who have loved you. The "no mat-ter what" enters in when we are grateful to those who have found it hard to love us or those we have found it hard to love. Remember that not everyone will find it easy to love you and you will not always find it easy to love everyone else. These are the people who will teach you the most about loving as Jesus loves. Be grateful to them, although it might take time and distance for this gratitude to manifest itself. Forgive early and often. Forgiveness, it has been said, is the scent that the rose leaves on the foot that crushes it. The scent we leave when we are "crushed" by or when we "crush" someone else is most important. No matter how Christlike you strive to be, you are human, and so are the people with whom you live. Your com-munity will never be perfect, and neither will you. You will make mistakes (~ometimes big mistakes), and so will they. Sometimes your mistakes will hurt people deeply. Re~iew for Religious Learn early to forgive yourself and others, and to ask for forgiveness frequendy and quickly, so that everyone comes up smelling like roses! It is not a mathematical coincidence that, when asked about how often we should forgive, Jesus says, "Not seven times, but seventy-seven times" (Mr 18:22), or "seven times in one day" (Lk 17:4). The number seven is symbolic of perfection or totality. So, when Jesus uses the number seven (or seventy-seven, for real emphasis), he is saying that our forgiveness should be limidess. That is a tall order, but one that is absolutely essential to living community life. Be the community you want to see. Mahatma Gandhi is widely quoted as having said, "Be the change you want to see." These words apply to many situations in diverse regions of the world, but they can apply just as easily to your situa-tion in your local com-munity. To be sure, at some point you will rea'ch the conclusion that your community does not live up to your not meet your needs, !:: f! st.a k yourself if you have :g!ven enough, of yourself yoUr:Community. expectations. Do not let your disillusionment get the best of you. If your community does not meet your needs, first ask yourself if you have given enough of yourself to your community. That is, have you been the community you wish to see? When I hear younger sisters complain about what their community does not do often enough (or does too often), I usually ask, "What have you attempted to initi- 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years ate in your community recendy?" (In the interest of full disclosure, I have been asked that very question a few times, too.) If the answer revolves around waiting for an elusive "someone else" to initiate an elusive "something else," warning flags should go up. Such a complaint is rarely about "them"; it is usually about "me." Own these complaints and use them as springboards to action. Be as foolish as God. Whenever you make deci-sions, always choose the most loving thing. On the surface, this looks blatantly obvious for someone in religious life. However, if you had been responsible for making practical, efficient decisions before entering your community, you will have to reprogram yourself toward making loving decisions. This is not to say that religious life lacks practicality and efficiency; it simply means that what is practical is not always what is loving. Many times the loving choice will go against your culturally pro-grammed response toward practicality and efficiency. If you have trouble figuring out what the loving thing is, turn more deeply toward the Gospels. There we find a God who is foolish in the eyes of the world-- encouraging the payment of a full day's wages both to those who worked a full day and to those who worked only one hour; leaving ninety-nine sheep in the des-ert to search for one lost sheep; and welcoming back a repentant child who had left saying "I wish you were dead" with "Let's throw a party!" So, when you are given a choice, be as foolish as God. Try not to miss too many community meals. As you struggle to find and honor your own rhythm in religious life, be aware of the rhythm of.your commu-nity, especially as it pertains to meals. Because of various schedules and commitments, the community meal (and the accompanying preparation and cleanup) may be the Review for Religious only meaningful contact we have with each other as a community on some days. That is where the debrief-ing of the day occurs, where the stories are told, and where bonds of community are formed. When you miss too many community meals, you run the risk of losing touch with the rhythm of the community. So, if you have ministry commitments that prevent you from shar-ing the community meal on Monday and Wednesday, it is probably not a good idea to accept an invitation to dinner from a friend on Tuesday or Thursday of that same week. That would make it quite difficult for you to regain your place in the rhythm of the community. Be a servant. You entered religious life to serve, but you probably lacked an understanding of the precise types of service that would be required of you. Perhaps you had an idea of service as going out to the poor and doing wonderful things for God. While that is an admi-rable goal and one that you still hope to accomplish, the actual service we are asked to do rarely matches the enchanting stuff of our imaginations. John 13 tells us that, after Jesus has washed his dis-ciples' feet, he says "As I have done for you, you should also do." Note that Jesus does not say that his disciples should follow his example only when it is convenient or when they are not tired. He does not tell the disciples to think about it; he simply says "Do it." The example of Jesus' service should be foremost in our minds as we listen to a sister tell about her day when we would rather watch the evening news; car pool when we would rather drive alone; and' go to a community meeting when we would rather have a relaxing weekend. These are the times when our service, although less glamorous than we originally envisioned, answers the call that Jesus issued to his disciples shordy before he died. 69.1 2010 Paul * Gleanings from My First Ten Years If we do not take the time ~o let God in through attentive praye, r, we may block God from~ .~ ~ working through us, ~ 681 Pray, pray, pray. This is another piece of advice that seems fairly obvious for someone in religious life. However, as we leave the novitiate, we run the risk of our prayer life taking a back seat to all the other good things that we can choose to do. As we become busier with many things, we sometimes try to convince our-selves, "My work is my prayer." While our work--that is, what we do-- ~, certainly is prayer, prayer is also who we are. If we do not take the 6me to let God in through attentive prayer, we may block God from work-ing through us. We cannot give what we do not possess. My awkward translation of the advice of St. Francis de Sales on prayer goes something like this: "You should pray thirty minutes each day, except when you are very busy. Then you should pray for an hour." In our initial formation, we spend time praying, reading about prayer, and being taught many things about prayer. We have heard what some saints have said about prayer, and most likely we have studied what our founders said about it. In 1851 the founder of my com-munity, Pauline yon Mallinckrodt, said, "What water is to the fish, prayer is to the religious." On the surface, this is a nice saying about prayer. But looking more deeply gives us a much truer picture. Try to remember the last time you saw a live fish out of water. Maybe it was a goldfish as you cleaned the bowl or a larger fish you caught in a lake on vacation. Review for Religious Do you remember the desperate flailing and gasping of that fish? Now try to think of yourself without prayer as that fish. When you flail and gasp while living your religious life without prayer, it will become apparent to those around you and will quickly become an obstacle to living a meaningful life in community. Do whatever it takes to dive back into the "water" of prayer. Talk to your spiritual director, your soul friend, or any of the various support people available to you. But do not stay out of the water for so long that you cannot be revived. Remember that we are all in this together. Religious life is a wondrous journey filled with joy and sorrow, surprises and banality, times of deep joy and times of darkness. As in other walks of life and voca-tions, people will "wow" you and disappoint you; you will have times of complete connectedness and utter loneliness. Through it all, remember that you are part of a community of people called by God to follow Christ more closely in this particular way of life. Every mem-ber- from the one who most annoys you to the one you most admire--was called to your community by God at a particular time for a particular mission. Avoid wasting time questioning how God could have ever intended this seemingly motley group to do anything together, let alone live in community and witness to God's love. Instead, praise and thank God for the wondrous diver-sity in which you are privileged to participate, and think of all of these persons as doing their best. When you think you have had enough and cannot go on, remember what "the call" was like for you. Think about what it was like to say "Yes," no matter how long ago it was, and begin again to follow Jesus more closely. Ask others, if you are comfortable doing so, to share 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years their stories with you. Shared vocation stories not only create unity, but they also give us the possibility of hav-ing something to whisper in each other's ears when our memories fade. What--and how often--we whisper is a testimony to our commitment to God and to each other. We are all in this together, and our communi-ties' futures depend on how well we witness this to each other and to those who seek to join us. Ten years have passed. That is a minuscule amount of time, given the years of service of most of the mem-bers of our communities. Every year of service, how-ever, consists of distinctive days, hours, and minutes in which we strive to live in grace-filled fidelity to our vows and trusting commitment to our religious community. Whether we have done this for one, ten, fifty, or eighty years, each day we have the responsibility of living in ways that bring ourselves, our community, all those we meet, and the entire church closer to God. Keeping the present moment--the dailyness--at the forefront of our prayer and consciousness aids us in doing God's will in our lives. The ideas I have shared above are, I think, some of the many things that, gathered together, can help us be who God calls us to be. Review for Religious MARY FRANCES COADY Monasteries of Meteora a n the chapel of St. Stephen's Monastery, set high mong the giant outcroppings of rock that stand before the Pindos Mountains in central Greece, the nuns' chanting of Vespers goes on and on as evening turns into night. Their voices, singing in a minor key of mournful solemnity, become a drone, the unfamiliar sounds an incantation. The nuns themselves, draped in black cloaks, their faces flamed with severe black bands, sit motionless or move about freely from one icon to another--strange, fearsome paintings of,Christ, Mary, and various saints--across the top of the chapel. Lighted candles hang from brass chains. There is no other light--only shadow, and black figures moving, and incense hanging sweet and thick in the air, and a heavy feeling of enclosure. Sleep begins to overtake me, despite the discomfort of the hard benches we are sitting on. To shake myself awake, I shift my body and cross my legs. Immediately a nun glides over Mary Frances Coady writes from 35 Cowan Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M6K 2N1 Canada. 69.1 2010 Coady * Monasteries of Meteora to me, gives a light tap on my knee, motions with her hand, and looks at me with deep blue eyes. Her face is a mixture of kindness and unquestioned authority. Like a child caught in mid-mischief, I uncross my legs. And the chanting goes on and on . Later, in the nearby town of Kalambaka, we sit in the taverna drinking wine. Red and white checkered cloths cover the tables, and pictures of blonde American movie stars line the walls. In the darkness outside loom enormous rocks, called Meteora, a name derived from a word meaning high in the air. Bare and gray and phal-lic- shaped, they stand like a monstrous fortress. Hidden among them, as if suspended between earth and heaven, is a series of medieval Greek Orthodox monasteries. A handful of these, including the one where we have just attended Vespers, are still inhabited. This is desert land, the abode of ascetics. I wonder aloud why these monasteries were built in the first place and why anyone these days would want to return to such a medieval way of life. "You've got it wrong if you're thinking medieval," says my compan-ion, taking a sip of wine. "You've got to think Eastern." Eastern: the fierce mysticism, that is, of Byzantine Christianity. In the 1 lth century, hermits first came to Meteora seeking refuge from "the world." Here the caves and clefts of the forbidding rocks seemed the perfect home for those who sought to retreat from society and who strove to punish their bodies with rigorous practices so that they might purify their souls. The landscape was an exact mirror of their desire to disregard the things of earth and attend to heavenly matters. Once they had found their way up the rock face and had established their niche, the hermits remained Review for Religio~s undisturbed and free to pursue God in the silence of their own hearts. They fasted for days and even weeks on end, depending on the kindness of local peasants for their meager sustenance. They went years without washing, for this was one of the signs of a holy man (and indeed these early hermits seemed to be only men): one who disdained his body so much that even as his clothes rotted on top of him he remained lost in the contempla-tion of the eternal, oblivious to his own stench. In succeeding centuries, wars forced the hermits to group together for protection. In the 14th century the monk Athanasius arrived from Mount Athos, the group of monasteries that stretch over a fifty-kilome-ter peninsula jutting into the Aegean Sea southeast of Thessaloniki. With nine other monks he established the first Meteora monastery. As at Mount Athos, women were strictly forbidden to visit the monasteries, and the monks were instructed not to give food to a woman even if she were dying of hunger. (At Mount Athos, not even female animals were allowed. Athanasius himself, his early biographer tells us, never allowed the word "woman" to sully his lips.) At the height of the Middle Ages, the monasteries grew in number to twenty-four. Only three are now still inhabited: Transfiguration (Great Meteoron), All Saints (Varlaam), and St. Stephen's. It is not known exactly how the ascetics reached their lonely habitations, or how they got the materials hoisted up to build the monasteries. The likelihood is that they hired local hunters and goatherds who were intimately familiar with the passes and crags in the rock. The biographer of Athanasius says only: "And taking a certain climber, he put him on a stone, and building a hut he remained there a long time." Up until the early 69.1 2010 Coady * Monasteries of Meteora In 1961 the oldest monastery became a monastery for women. decades of this century, men who visited the monaster-ies either climbed by rope ladders, which were often frayed and barely secured, or were pulled up in net bas-kets, swinging precariously over the abyss. Visitors were instructed to avoid dizziness by closing their eyes as the creaking pulley lifted them up, and to chant a hymn in order to keep calm through the ordeal. In 1920 the monks began cutting steps into the rock leading up to the buildings, and in 1948 a paved road was completed, making the still-inhabited monaster-ies accessible by car. In the same year, permission was granted for women to visit the monaster-ies. (In these matters Meteora has sur-passed Mount Athos in modernization. At the entrance to the Holy Mountain, as Mount Athos is called, a sign still stands forbidding women to enter. Up until the late 1950s, wheeled vehicles were also forbidden, the only access to the Mount Athos monasteries being by foot or mule. The decision to build roadways still remains a controversy among some of the monks. Apparently no such controversy has yet arisen regarding the ban against women visitors.) In 1961 St. Stephen's, the oldest monastery and the only one visible from the road below, became a "nun-nery," or monastery for women. It is the most accessible of the monasteries; an eight-meter footbridge over the chasm brings the visitor face to face with the monas-tery's imposing iron door, which opens onto a sunny courtyard, the stark austerity softened by the presence of azalea and bougainvillea bushes and flowering plants Review for Religious in earthenware pots. This is the peaceful setting where the spiritual quest takes place in the stillness and soli-tude of the heart. Here nuns of all ages--a surprising number of them young, with smooth complexions and sparkling eyes--labor with rolled-up sleeves and easy smiles. A nearby plaque, however, refers to "the church of Christ" as the "new ark" that is saving the world from the "cataclysm of sin." The pleasant courtyard and happy faces can be deceptive: there is nothing sunny about the work that is carried out here. That work, here on a spot suspended between earth and sky, is nothing less than a lifetime spent in con-templation of the eternal--or, in other words, an inner search for what is essential and lasting. To carry out this quest, one leaves one's place of comfort and moves to a barren land where outward distractions have been left behind and the interior struggle begins. Anyone who has been on such a desert quest will tell you that the experience demands a healthy respect, and it is not to be undertaken lightly. In the ~adition of Byzantine Christianity, the search is carried out within the con-text of liturgical prayer, where one prays with the whole body, chanting, bowing, signing oneself with the cross, gathering in spirit the whole of humanity. We leave Meteora on a Sunday morning, driving past a church where men in well-pressed suits con-gregate outside, smoking cigarettes. No women are in sight; they are perhaps already inside, lighting tapers and placing them in a vat of sand at the back of the church. They too will pray with their bodies, moving about the church, bowing in front of icons, lighting more candles, moving their lips in prayer as bearded clerics in gold brocade vestments chant the prayers of the sacred liturgy. 69.1 2010 Coady ¯ Monasteries of Meteora Their sisters on top of the monastic rocks continue their lives of unceasing prayer. For them, Sunday is a solemn feast, and this means that there is more than the usual amount of liturgical prayer. There will be more chanting, more bowing, more lighting of candles. All that can be said, perhaps, of this stark way of life is that here there is a spiritual continuity, a sense of ageless prayer, a de

Issue 53.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1994. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUaRY 199Zl. - V6LUME ~; ¯ NUMBER 1~o Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~ by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535~0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARYI994 ¯ VOLUME53 '* NUMBER I contents feature Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ relates the stress within religious life to the loss of traditional God images and the search now for the hidden face of the living God. 29 43 58 toward the synod The Consecrated Life in Church and World Bishop Jan P. Schotte CICM explains the synod of bishops, with brief descriptions of previous ones and the 1994 synodal process. Charism, Charisms, and Faddism A. Paul Dominic SJ brings clarity to the Lineamenta treatment of the charism of religious life and the charisms of its many con-crete forms in various congregations. Hopes for the Synod and Beyond Joel Giallanza CSC focuses his attention on the identity and mis-sion of apostolic religious congregations and their relationship to the hierarchy. 64 73 82 mission and ministry Images of Hope in an Inner-City Parish George M. Anderson SJ shows God working in unlikely places, making use of humble and broken people to advance the values for which Jesus died and rose. A Bracelet of Elephant'sHair Jo O'Donovan RSM shares her sabbatical experience of an "outer" and "inner" Africa. The Modern Development of Messianic Prophecy Allen S. Maller presents for our ecumenical consideration a deeply felt Jewish view of Messianic meaning and fulfillment. 2 Review for Religious experiencing the spirit 89 Living in the Womb of God Marion Zeltmann PCPA reflects upon her experience of enclosure and prayer as a Poor Clare. 95 Do I Really Believe that Death Leads to Life? Francis Blouin FIC suggests some practical ways of responding to the current dyings manifest in religious life. 102 A Rite for Those Departing Religious Formation Peter A. Lyons suggests positive and wholesome ways in which individuals departing from religious life and ~he community mem-bers who remain might deal ritually with this reality. 107 120 130 religious life issues Integrating Human Needs in Religious Formation Howard J. Gray SJ suggests ways of viewing human needs as "longings," radical desires to be integrated in the art of religious ministry. Chapters Present and Future Catherine M. Harmer MMS reviews the history of chapters in reli-gious life and raises questions about their future functioning. Religious Life, a Continuum Francis Assisi Kennedy OSF examines, historical beginnings of reli-gious congregations for patterns surprisingly serviceable today. departments 4 Prisms 142 Canonical Counsel: The Conciliar Decree Perfectae Caritatis 149 Book Reviews Jan~mry-February 1994 3 prisms 1994--a year still to be lived, a year yet to pass into history. For most people there is a healthy anticipation of "good things" when new begin-nings are made. Perhaps such "anticipation" should be called, rather, a precious grace which interconnects us with God, the eternal optimist. New evangelization is the most consistently optimistic theme of John Paul II's papacy. While his encyclicals and apostolic exhortations are many and weighty (witness the most recent Splendor of Truth), I suspect that his repeated call to a new evangelization will be the most significant and lasting grace for the church. The call is a beginning similar to the beginning of a year; it is not as if evange-lization is any newer than the parade of days which form any year's calendar. The newness in large part comes from the attitude with which we enter into evangelization, just as it comes from the way we enter into another year. The oft-quoted phrase about this call to evangelization being "new in its vigor, new in its methods, and new in its expression" is grounded in the attitude which we bring to our Christian responsibility as evangelizers. Attitude alone is not enough, but unless the grace of optimism warms our efforts as believers in Good News to share it and explain it and to offer people a challenge, little evange-lization is the result. Do members of religious congregations need to see a more intimate connection between the new evangeliza-tion and their own efforts at renewal? Since all forms of Christian life come from our having the gospels in our blood, it would seem obvious that an evangelization effort promotes effective renewal. The gospels not only have 4 R~,iew for Religio~s inspired the different forms of religious life, but also have helped shape its various expressions and methods. Men and women moved by the Spirit of Christ have gifted the church with at least three prismatic "colors" of Christ-following that look monastic or mendicant or apostolic. The question remains for us today who have been illumined by these various Christ-prisms how our gospel-inspired attitude can reveal the graced mystery of this life-form in terms of new depths of meaning and new ways of expres-sion- in the very heritage we claim. The darkness we feel comes not from Jesus, the light-source whom we follow, but from our own self-chosen, squint-eyed angle of vision having so little to do with grace or gospel. So often our efforts at renewal seem more a vain search for one "tree of life" instead of for the God who gives all created gifts for our creatively discerned use. Optimism marks the effort of anyone who begins something. An evangelical optimism seems almost lacking both in internal reli-gious congregation renewal attempts and in hierarchical control efforts. As we begin this year of the synod on consecrated life, our prayer for ourselves and our church begs again for that grace dear to our God imaged as the prodigal parent who expects the son (and daughter) to be coming up the road--the grace of opti-mism. As we begin this new volume, Review for Religious warmly welcomes Regina Siegfried, a member of the Sister Adorers of the Blood of Christ, Ruma province, as associate editor. She serves currently as assistant professor of historical studies and spiritual-ity at Aquinas Institute in St. Louis. Former editor of Spirituality Today, she is well known for her books Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers, edited with Bishop Robert Morneau, and In the Company of Preachers, edited with Edward Ruane OP. Review for Religious accepts graciously the loss of Michael Harter SJ as associate editor. In his new role assignment as direc-tor of novices for the Jesuit Missouri provirice, he can assure young candidates' solid formation through their familiarity with articles from Review for Religious. So in losing an editor, I am sure that we are gaining a number of new subscribers. Just as he leaves this media field, his prayer book, Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits, has been published by the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis and is already in its second printing. We wish him well and know that we will miss him. David L. Fleming SJ January-February 1994 5 feature ELIZABETH A. JOHNSON Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God As the third millennium of the Western, Christian calen-dar approaches, all manner of assessments are being made about what will fade into history and what will newly flourish in the year 2001 and afterwards. It does not take a new millennium, however, to see that religious life in the United States is passing through an epochal change, the outcome of which in terms of fade or flourish is an open question. The research project "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," conducted by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis under the sponsorship of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the Leadership Council of Women Religious, sets out fully aware of this moment in history2 The original proposal for this study underscores the rad-icality of the journey now underway. Religious orders, it notes, are in the midst of a process of transformation, defined in categories from the social sciences to mean: The operation of changing (as by mapping or through strategies) one configuration or expression into another in accordance with a rule, a purpose or mission. Elizabeth Johnson csJ is associate professor of theology at Fordham University. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment, (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis. Her address is Department of Theology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458-5165. 6 Review for Religious Such change, furthermore, involves: qualitative, discontinuous shifts in organizational members' shared understandings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informal structures. The most basic questions of group and individual identity, involving who religious are, how they are to live, what they are to do, and why, are all at stake. Religious orders in this country, the proposal continues, are in the midst of a transformative process so profound that it will lead to the demise of some, the revitalizing of others, and the birth of new forms of the evangelical life as yet unimagined. The aim of this research project is to identify factors within religious orders themselves that will contribute to a suc-cessful outcome of this major metamorphosis. Recent historical studies have unveiled a heartening picture of how the evangelical following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called "religious life," has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms. From monastic to mendicant to apostolic communities, to mention but a few of the more widespread models, new forms of this living movement have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change. A compelling interpretation of the present sit-uation holds that in the United States, at least, the present crisis of religious orders signals yet another breakthrough in the many-faceted evolution of forms of the evangelical life. If this be true, this is the first time in the history of the church that members of religious orders in a time of transition have been so self-con-sciously aware of their situation and so equipped with the tools of modern research that they can reflect on and even direct the pro-cess of change. The purpose of this essay is to provide a theological context for the data that follows. It is important to note that this essay was commissioned, designed, and largely written before the research project was completed. Therefore it should not be read as an interpretation of the project's findings. Rather, it is intended as an independently conceived reflective piece on this moment in the history of religious life. To .contextualize the report that follows, this essay first surveys the state of the question in contemporary literature on religious life and then identifies a basic shift occur-ring that affects all the rest and that holds great portent for the future, namely, a change in the experience of God.2 January-February 1994 7 Johnson ¯ Between the Times The living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again. State of the Question Starting in the late 1970s, a number of excellent works have contributed to discussion of the meaning of religious life and have expressed the emerging self-understanding of religious them-selves. Written by or available to members of religious orders in North America, the list includes works on the history, sociology, and theology of the life as lived by both women and men in general,3 as well as works that focus on the experiences of women4 or men5 in particular. The imagery and language of these writings reflect the enormous tension in the state of the question, both as lived and reflected upon. There is a prevalence of "re" words: revitalize, refound, rein-terpret, reimagine, reweave, redefine, rebirth. Metaphors point to new creative acts: pouring new wine into new wine-skins; reweaving the threadbare cloth; standing at the crossroads and discerning the way ahead; planting new seeds; mid-wiring a birth; bringing order out of chaos. The focus is consistently on the future: shaping the coming age, strate-gizing for growth, negotiating the challenge of change, claiming identity, being converted. Individual differences of approach in this literature recede when compared with the convergences that these writings dis-play. Virtually all of the authors are seized by the conviction that in the Western democracies the missionary and apostolic mod-els of religious life, prevalent for the last two hundred years, are dying. Relatively speaking and in some cases literally, "there is no one behind us." But this does not mean that religious life itself is dying, for no one form has ever been definitively lasting as the predominant form for every era. What it may well mean, however, is that the living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again,6 The present malaise and decline, if lived through with discernment, fidelity, and courage, can lead to new, yet-to-be-determined forms commensurate with the cultural realities of the third millennium. 8 Review for Religious This being the case, the literature is replete with enlighten-ing analyses of ecclesial and cultural factors at work in the present changes. It also indicates that a strong consensus is taking shape regarding the way forward. A prophetic stance suffused with con-templation is being glimpsed as the crucial spiritual force that seeks expression in coming forms of religious life. Both the anal-ysis and this key proposal are surveyed here as interesting in their own right and as factors that themselves point further to a foun-dational experience of God. Changes in Church and Society The literature agrees that the most important ecclesial factor underlying the shift in religious life's self-understanding contin-ues to be Vatican II's two-pronged theological articulation of the church's identity and mission. Ad intra (internally) the church is first and foremost the people of God, with every member conse-crated by baptism and empowered to life in Christ. The conse-quent universal call to holiness undercuts the traditional notion that religious life is an elite state of perfection whose members are spiritually set above ordinary lay people. Rather, religious live out their call to holiness as a sacrament or sign to the whole church of its Spirit-filled vocation. Ad extra (externally) the church is to turn pastorally toward the world as God's good creation, marred by sin but redeemed by Christ and worthy of attention. The mission of the church in the world undermines the tradi-tional dualism between the sacred and the secular, along with the concomitant idea that religious should be set apart from the world. Rather, they are to live in relation to the world, not over against but ~vith and for, in criticism and compassion. The conciliar shift from a juridical to a more-biblically-based pastoral identity and mission, still being contested and negotiated in the church at large, undergirds the changes in self-understanding, lifestyle, and ministry that now affect traditional forms of religious life. Since the council, additional ecclesial factors have appeared that continue to impinge upon religious life in the United States. The ongoing efforts by religious orders to reinterpret founding charisms is occurring in the context of postconciliar reinterpre-rations of the Catholic biblical, theological, and liturgical tradi-tions themselves. The infusion of insight from these sources is resulting in new and influential understandings, such as the rad- .January-Febrnary 1994 9 Johnson ¯ Between the Times ¯ ical equality of all in baptismal grace. Furthermore, the postcon-ciliar explosion of lay ministries, both ecclesially sponsored and lay initiated, is multiplying the possibilities open to those who wish to serve in the church beyond the confines of traditional religious life. At the same time it creates a situation of shared, collabora-tive ministry between religious and the laity. In these same years, the original immigrant church in this country has reached mainstream status with the majority of its members moving into the middle class. More options for service and advancement have opened up in the civil sector, lessening the church's attraction as the primary field for a dedicated life. In addition, the economic and educational mores of middle-class life coupled with the availability of birth control has resulted in the reduced size of Catholic families, thus shrinking the pool from which candidates for religious life were traditionally drawn. Meanwhile, a new wave of immigration from Latin America and Asia is presently changing the face of the church; one-third of Catholics in the United States are now Hispanic, half of whom are younger than eighteen years of age. Despite outstanding service on the part of some religious of European descent, however, dif-ferences of culture, race, class, and age, if not overt, prejudice, seem to prev.ent the majority of religious orders from making an effective case for their way of life to members of new immigrant groups. Eras do not repeat themselves. All of these ecclesial factors are playing out in the wider con-text of the church .becoming a world church, less European in character and belonging to all cultures; a church of the diaspora, less supported by a homogeneous culture and more a little flock in a pluralist world; and a church in interreligious dialogue, open to the wisdom of other great religious traditions. Social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States are also contributing to changes in religious life) These forces are many and complex, but several consistently surface in the literature: democracy, which yields a more partic-ipative rather than authoritative style of governance; global aware-ness, which subverts provincialism; growing consciousness of economic and social injustice at home and abroad, which demands action to relieve poverty and promote justice; pervasive violence, which highlights the need for teaching and modeling peaceful resolution of conflicts; materialism, which calls for a countercul-tural witness to simplicity of life and the value of the human over 10 Review for Religious the product; excessive individualism, which cries out for the anti-dote of a genuine community of free and responsible persons; ethnocentrism, racism, and insensitivity to other cultures, which needs the word of the gospel about the fundamental human dig-nity of every person; and feminism, which advocates the equal inclusion of women in that human dignity. The search in the United States for a new, more humane society among ourselves, between all nations, and between human beings and the natural world of this planet contextualizes and begins to inspire the search for new, vital forms of religious life. In a striking way, ecclesial and cul-tural factors have converged in the rise of Christian feminism and its influ-ence in women's religious orders. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. Perhaps it was the play of prov-idence that unleashed the conciliar reforms at the very moment that the women's movement was gathering force once again in the United States. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. In any event, while renewing their lives in the light of the gospel and their founding charisms and while strengthening their witness in the world, especially among those depriv.ed of human dignity, women religious became aware of themselves as women in a patri-archal church and society. They .began to notice the systemic absence and silence of women in church pol!cy-making bodies and ministries, its obvious connection with gender, and the result-ing pressures on the way they lived their lives. Contextualized by the women's movement in church and society, they began to find their own voice and to claim, even for themselves, the respect befitting a human person. Women's experience was affirmed as a legitimate if untapped source of knowledge about religious life and its ministry, prayer, community, and governance, and this found expression in their reflection, dialogue, and new constitu-tions. The result of this awakening was a release of energy that bore and continues to bear promise for the future of religious January-February 1994 11 Johnson ¯ Between the Times life. But it also brings conflict as men church authorities refuse to reverence or dialogue with the insights coming from women's experience, insisting rather on conformity to their own under-standing and law. At this point the alienation of legions of women in the church is a matter of public record. Women religious, too, know this darkness. But among women religious in the United States at the end of the twentieth century, the conviction per-dures that the goals of Christian feminism are fully in accord with the gospel. They continue to grapple with issues of identity and mission with the understanding that through their struggle the Spirit of God is offering a transforming grace to the whole church, although, terrifyingly, grace may always be refused.8 In and through all of this analysis of ecclesial and cultural factors that affect religious life today, authors have been seeking clues as to how this life will be able to flourish in the future. The search appears to be narrowing. Glimpse of a New Form: Prophetic, Contemplative Life In books and essays about religious life and in documents generated by religious orders and the national conferences, a new combination of ancient dements is beginning to define the essen-tial character of religious life. The emerging understanding of this life is primarily that of persons and communities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God. Prophecy and mysticism, prophetic witness and contem-plation, will shape the evangelical life of love of God and neigh-bor in its coming age. The two national conferences of men and of women religious place this insight at the head of the list of ten transformative ele-ments they identify for religious life in the future: 1. Prophetic Witness: Being converted by the example of Jesus and the values of the gospel, religious in the year 2010 will serve a prophetic role in church and society. Living this prophetic wimess will include critiquing social and ecclesial values and structures, calling for systemic change and being converted by the marginalized with whom we serve. 2. Contemplative, Attitude Toward Life: Religious in 2010 will have a contemplative attitude toward all creation and be motivated by the presence of the sacred? 12 Review forReligious In a similar way the visioning groups studied in the Futures Project as well as those identified by the research as outstanding leaders consistently and vigorously endorsed the prophetic/con-templative stance. Far from being an esoteric perspective, this stance brings to light what is most basic in Christian faith and what the church itself needs to emphasize in order to thrive in the future. As Karl Rahner foresaw, the spirituality of the future will arise from rela-tion with the living God at the very heart of the world and con-sequently "will be a spirituality of the Sermon on the Mount and of the evangelical counsels, continually involved in renewing its protest against the idols of wealth, pleasure, and power.''t° This is the calling of the church as a whole, and religious life crystallizes and witnesses to this. The two constituent elements, prophecy and contemplation, can be distinguished mentally and examined separately, but in reality they form one living shape, one wholistic form, one gestalt of life. Asking which comes first is a chicken-and-egg kind of question, with no intelligible answer in sight.1~ Contemplation is a way of seeing that leads to union. It arises from an experience of connection with the sacred at the very core of life. Mediated, as always, by created things such as words, images, and actions, this relationship unfolds as persons and com-munities allow these mediations to lead them into the living pres-ence of the holy. Insofar as the created mediations themselves are transcended in contemplation, this experience counteracts the human effort to control the divine and instead delivers the spirit into the bright darkness of God. From one perspective, the con-nection with the sacred is a result of the inflow of the love of God inflaming and awakening the heart. From another, it entails the discipline of becoming fully conscious, journeying to one's deepest self and to the outer limits of the cosmos in order to touch the divine. In the process, the contemplative "knows" God not in an extrinsic, conceptual way but from within, experien-tially. At the very heart of existence one is in touch with holy mystery, a relation for which the I-Thou relationship among human beings is only a remote analogy. As a result, a certain intuition arises by which one begins to know and love the world as God does. This attitude is totally inclusive of all creation. Everything created is precious and sacred within the cosmic ambience of life and is cause for delight and January-February 1994 13 Johnson ¯ Between the Times thanks. But the evident brokenness of the world and damage done persons and other creatures are cause for grief, compassion, and protest. In some unspeakable situations,, the utter depravity of evil occasions the most profound, wordless hope against hope, without any supports, in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace. The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but pro-foundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. The prophetic lifestyle and action that express this way of seeing are not the result of simple humanism (although the world could use a lot more of this too) but of real belief in God. In solidarity with divine purpose for the world, prophetic persons and communities desire to restore right relationships and so to set right what causes pain and suffering. While this has always been the case, the hermeneutic of prophecy in our day with its sophisticated knowl-edge of systems realizes that the wounds of the heart also afflict culture. Thus prophetic witness includes critique not just of per-sonal acts but also of social, economic, and political structures and values in society. Knowing, too, that we are a sinful church always in need of repentance and reform, this witness is borne toward the values and structures of the community itself. The prophetic stance is marked by a number of characteris-tics. These include attentive listening to the creative Spirit of God, connecting with the suffering in a situation and evaluating its causes, naming what is unjust, being empowered to articulate an alternative future based on the dream of God for the world, bringing compassion and hope to the brokenness, and resistance and challenge to the status quo that would maintain it. In the process prophetic persons and communities strive to empower people in their struggle to live and survive, in turn being taught and empowered by them to continue to seek the face of God. In the Christian tradition this witness is shaped by the fol-lowing of Jesus, in whom the compassion of God takes flesh in the world. Contemplation and prophecy were indivisibly connected in his historical life. As Edward Schillebeeckx explains, "In the prophet Jesus, mysticism and healing came from one and the same source--his experience of the contrast between the living God and the history of human suffering." ~2 The reign of God that he announced envisages an end to exploitation or suppression; his ministry in word and deed enacted practical anticipations of this 14 Review for Religious salvation to come. His own drink from the cup of suffering in torment and execution and the seal of God's graciousness in the resurrection ground a hope in human history that has empow-ered discipleship ever since. Remembrance of Jesus through the power of the Spirit guides and informs the life of prophecy and ~ontemplation in the church. This vision of a wholistic con-templative, prophetic shape to reli-gious life in the future, glimpsed in the literature, is already a living, growing reality in some cases. It also stands in contrast to the overall shape of religious life in the present, which has become domesticated by too close an identification with the law, structure, and spirituality of the institutional church. In a particularly eloquent argument, Diarmuid O'Murchu, taking a clue from reli-gious life as it is lived in Eastern religions, contends that religious life in the west needs to reclaim its liminal identity, a move of genuine conversion en.tailing profound change in spirit and structure. Re!igious would then be known as persons and communities who are in touch with the sacred, passionately committed to just and loving relationships, fiercely resistant against exploitation of the earth and of persons, and willing to live countercultural lifestyles with and for the marginalized. They would stand in church and society a.s liminal, archetypal, prophetic persons, articulating and empowering the deepest love.13 To arrive at this goal, religious must confront many chal-lenges and questions. A key CMSM paper muses: People in general probably do not think of us as genuine prophets. What must we do, what price must we pay, if we wish to embrace a prophetic stance? How can we be prophetic without becoming triumphalistic? How can we be prophetic without losing a ministry .to the middle class which is the social origin of nearly all of us? How can we learn to read the signs of the times and discern more surely the thrust of prophecy? What steps must we take to arrive at solid social and cultural analysis? How can we relate our The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but profoundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. ~anuary-February 1994 15 Johnson * Between the Times traditional institutions to the prophetic role? How can we motivate ourselves, with God's grace, to accept a materi-ally poor standard of living? We have more questions than answers, but we believe that we are on the way to a new, more prophetic presence within the U.S. Church.~4 The Futures Project identifies "fidelity to purpose" and "response to absolute human need" as the two most basic ele-ments for the revitalization of religious life. As this brief survey of the literature shows, the search for the sacred in resistance to what afflicts the world is being fingered as the purpose that will shape the new form of this life. The move toward a contemplative-prophetic stance augurs well for the future insofar as it grapples with the religious heart of the matter in the context of the suf-fering of the contemporary world. Experience of God My own reflection on these matters brings me to a founda-tional area not frequently mentioned in the literature, namely, the idea of God that undergirds the evangelical life. The fasci-nation with the mystery of God is endemic to religious life every-where and at all times. The varieties of structures and self-understandings that have emerged in the course of history only serve to underscore this fact. As Sandra Schneiders observes, "Whatever unites all these people is more interior and spiritual than forms of life or types of behavior."15 The common thread that unites them all is a search for relationship with the sacred, leading to a certain kind of absorption with the religious dimen-sion of life. "Those who are called 'religious' in the technical sense of the word," writes John Lozano, "have decided to adopt a way of life whose intrinsic, underlying explanation is religious experience.''16 This way of life intends to give daily, concrete expression to the experience of God, to empower its further devel-opment, and to manifest its fruits publicly. Put another way by Ladislaus Orsy, the only reason for religious life is the experi-ence of God. This being so, it seems vitally important to inquire about the idea of God that is presupposed at any given moment, for this structures the experience of God that sustains the entire endeavor. As the primary symbol of the whole religious system, the idea of God is a lodestar. It represents what a community takes to be the 16 Review for Religious highest good, the profoundest truth, the most appealing beauty. Thus it is not a neutral concept, but functions powerfully to shape the personal and corporate identity of believers. A religion, for example, which would speak about a warlike God and extol the way he smashes his enemies to bits would promote aggressive group behavior. By contrast, speech about a beneficent and lov-ing God who forgives offenses would turn the faith community toward care for the neighbor and mutual forgiveness.'7 By definition, the One whom people call God is the recipient of absolute human trust, God being "that to which your heart clings and entrusts itself" in the memorable phrase of Martin Luther (OSA).~s Consequently, the idea of God implicitly guides all of a person's and community's principles, choices, system of values, enterprises, and relationships. The symbol of God func-tions. Neither abstract in content nor feeble in its effect, it sums up a people's sense of ultimate mystery, the proper order of the world, and the right orientation of human life and devotion. Along with many others, I sense that a seismic shift is occur-ring in the experience and idea of God in our day and culture. Fully aware that not all people who live at the same time are con-temporaries, I nevertheless think that a certain culturally condi-tioned cast of mind is emerging in our era that yields an idea of God markedly different from the classical model. VChat is emerg-ing is a notion that coherently supports and strengthens prophetic and contemplative consciousness. Thus it is not just the move from a juridical to a pastoral relation of the church to the world, nor the dissolving of the sacred-secular dualism, nor increased global and ecological awareness, nor growing consciousness of injustice, nor any of the other ecclesial and social factors that alone or together are causing the changes in religious life. Rather, at the deepest level what is transpiring, I think, is new experience of God. The Postmodern World The contemporary mind-set in the United States shaped by conditions of the late twentieth century is frequently described as postmodern. First coined in artistic, literary, and philosophical circles, this term is used in a bewildering variety of ways to describe the sentiment that humanity must go beyond the mod-ern. Like the wanderer in Kafka's parable who, when asked where January-February 1994 17 Johnson * Between the Times he is riding to, responds, "I don't know,., only away from here, away from here, only by doing so can I reach my destination,''19. postmodernity points beyond the present to what cannot yet be readily envisioned. Philosopher Stephen Toulmin refers to the world "that has not yet discovered how to define itself in terms of what it is, but only in terms of what it hasjust-now-ceased-to-be," namely, the modern world originating from the seventeenth-cen-tury Enlightenment.2° Modern!ty esteemed at least four dynamic forces: the myth of unending progress, the clear and distinct ideas of universal reason, the power of the self-contained individual directed by his soli-tary ego, and the ascendancy of human control over nature. By contrast, postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected. Not everything originating in the modern era is to be discarded. One would want to keep the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality (fraternity in isolation is suspect). But postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away- From-Here. Perhaps the most felicitous description comes from David Power, who observes that postmodernism is the sensibility that does not try to pretend that the twentieth century has not hap-pened. Sprung from the disruptive, out-of-control evils of this century, postmodern consciousness is aware of the chaotic, con-tingent, threatened character of existence and the fragility of the human project. Two distinct but related positions have developed within this general description. One, the option for deconstruction, seeks to undo the power and securities that produce such evils. In theory and art it pokes holes through the rationalizations of the victors, unveiling their pretensions to righteousness and order. While in its extreme form postmodern deconstruction leads to radical skep-ticism and nihilism, its bracing insights are powerfully instruc-tive as to what should not be. In tandem with this option, a second, more constructive model has emerged. Suspicious of inherited triumphal truths, it seeks out suppressed voices and sto-ries, risking new interpretations of established tradition "from the margins" in order to enable resistance to the forces of destruc-tion. Its aim, unlike nihilism, is a more just and humane universe. 18 Review for Religious It is this latter type of constructive postmodernism, found in intellectual theory, literature, and art as well as in grass-roots movements, that generates a certain kind of spirituality.21 Its char-acteristics are painted here in broad strokes. Postmodern spiri-tuality notes the ambiguous character of progress itself and takes its bearing not from the dream of untrammeled, irreversible progress fueled by a consumerist mentality, but from the suffering of those on the underside of history, keeping in view the gaps and failures of human advance. It seeks wisdom not in the clear and distinct ideas of what is claimed to be universal reason but is in reality the thought of privileged men; rather, it honors the plurality and ambiguity of human con-sciousness, sensitive to the differ-ence that difference makes according to one's social location in gender, race, and class. The com-pass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individual-ism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community The compass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individualism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. It finds life not in human supremacy over the earth but in affective kinship with the extended family of the cosmos. In a word, it prizes not isolation but essential connectedness; not body-mind dualism but the wholistic, embodied person; not patriarchy but inclusive fem-inism; not militarism but expenditure for the enhancement of life; not tribal nationalism but global justice. Our age is witnessing the shift to a postmodern cast of values, in theory if not always in practice. This constitutes a widespread, if not universal, cultural phenomenon in the United States, even among Christian believers. It may well signal the first phase of an axial breakthrough in human consciousness that will shape the next millennium. If so, that is of no little significance for the future of religious life in this country. For the postmodern sensi-bility in its constructive form has a strong affinity with the prophetic-contemplative stance increasingly envisioned as con- January-February 1994 19 Johnson ¯ Between the Times stitutive for the future of religious life. At the very core of that life is the experience of God. And so we come to the heart of the matter by asking how the postmodern matrix shapes the experi-ence and concept of the sacred. Postmodern Experience of God In our era the concept of God developed by rational En-lightenment theology in the context of modernity has become largely unbelievable. Whether drawn from revelation or philo-sophical inference, this by-now-traditional theism views God as the Supreme Being who created all things and who governs all things with inscrutable providence. Perfect in a way that stands in sharp contrast to the finitude of creatures, "he" (the theistic God is always referred to in male terms) is "infinite, self-existent, incor-poreal, eternal, immutable, impassible, simple, perfect, omni-scient, and omnipotent.''22 Although architect and ruler of the world, it is essential to God's deity that he be essentially unre-lated to this world and unaffected by what happens in it. This view therefore excels at stressing ,divine transcendence and its human counterpart of spirit, while divine immanence along with the importance of matter and the body tend to slip from view. This God of classical theism is modeled on the pattern of an earthly absolute monarch, a metaphor so prevalent that most often it is simply taken.for granted. As a king rules over his subjects, so God the Lord has dominion over his creatures, a view which, as Sallie McFague has shown, is intrinsically hierarchical, whether the divine reign be accomplished through dominance or benevo-lence. 23 In theory such theism adheres to the truth that the mys-tery of God is beyond all images and concepts. Yet history shows how in practice modernity tends to objectify God, reducing infi-nite mystery to an independently existing Supreme Being along-side other beings, a solitary, transcendent power who together with the world can be thought to form a larger whole. This is the idea of God that is no longer seriously imagin-able within a postmodern sensibility. Factors that contribute to its lack of cogency include the evils of this century, contemporary science and its view of the universe, liberation and feminist anal-ysis, the political disparagement of dictatorship, and the encounter among world religions. Any one of these alone would put a large question mark next to the modern symbol of the divine. Taken 20 Review for Religious together within the cultural shift to postmodern consciousness, they all but bury it. The result for people of faith is the radical loss of their famil-iar God image, along with the experience of divine presence that it mediated. Along with this also comes the loss of their sense of place in the order of the universe. As Janet Ruffing comments on the domino effect of loss of the tradi-tional God image in religious communi-ties, "All the ways we had construed our place in the sun and the meaningfulness of our commitment have been gradually eroding.''24 But this experience is not restricted to religious life; it is culture-wide and has attracted a host of com-mentators. For Martin Buber, the loss signals the eclipse of God. For Karl Rahner, it involves entry into the spiri-tuality of a bleaker season. For Constance Fitzgerald, it means the classic mystical experience of impasse and dark night. For Sandra Schneiders, this dark night is not only individual but a corporate purification. For Martin Marry, winter serves as metaphor for this season of the heart. For Michael Bucldey, it is entry into emptiness, silence, the cross in accord with the dynamic of apophatic mysticism,zs For me, this shift is poignantly summed up in the titles of the first and last books of my friend and colleague William Hill OP, now seriously ill. He broke into print with Knowing the Unknown God, an exploration of how the Thomistic category of analogy could lead the mind to God even in the contemporary world. God might be unknown, but we were possessed of some knowl-edge through the judgments we make. Now his recent essays have been collected under the rubric In Search of the Absent God. We are not in possession at all. Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God.26 The absence of God experienced through the breakdown of traditional mediations of structure and theory does not mean, how-ever, that there is no experience of God at all. In a profound dialec-tic, what has been taken away is encountered in the ache of its loss. Divine absence itself becomes a mode of divine presence. The unknowing beckons to a deeper knowing. Th~ darkness mediates a brightness that the eyes cannot see. The wintry horizon hints at Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God. .~anuary-February 1994 21 Johnson ¯ Between the Times new life buried beneath the snow. The cry from the depths signals an affirmation of Life deeper than pain, as did Jesus' cry from the cross. As Maura Clarke wrote from E1 Salvador, "In the very absence of God here, God has never been more present to me." 27 It all depends on the character of God. If God be trustworthy, then we hope that we are grounded and enveloped by a Living Presence even here, in the night of the senses and of the spirit. While there is no universal enactment of salvation, the sacred comes in the form of promise mediated through everyday, small fragments of healing, beauty, liberation, justice, and love. This does not remove the darkness, but it allows us to keep on walk-ing. The ice melts but will freeze again: in history there are only relative victories. Lament and celebration are both necessary. Here there are no easy assurances, no props. We know God through hope and, in the face of starkness, even hope against hope, nourished by remembrance and the circle of community. For many years now I have found the prophet of this experi-ence to be Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In his vision God is being edged out of the world and onto the cross, and that is the way, the only way, that God can be with us: "only a suffering God can help.''28 His struggle to believe culminates in the maxim "Before God and with God we live without God.'':9 This is an experience of God in which darkness is an event of disclosure, clearing the decks of a false conception of God and opening contact with the incom-prehensible holy mystery of God who goes beyond all images, all grasping, all ~elling. The manageable God of the modern age who was immediately available and could be counted upon to intervene for our benefit is no longer there. But a new experience of God is already breaking through that intensifies our compassion. Constance Fitzgerald has wisely observed that what is going on in and through this experience is "a progressive hermeneutic of~e nature of God.''3° A full theology of God has yet to be writ-ten in a postmodern context, but the typical spii'itual experience of this age is yielding an unmistakable interpretation.3~ If there be a God at all, then this is absolute holy mystery that can never be fathomed. Not literally a male person writ large, the sacred can be pointed to by any created good: male, female, animal, cosmic. This mystery does not dwell in isolation from the world but encompassesit as the Matrix of its being and becoming. God in the world and the world in God--panentheism describes the mutual relation. Thus related, the Holy One of Blessing is a God 22 Review.for Religious of pathos who participates in the suffering of the world in order to transform it from within. Divine power is the strength of love, rather than raw, monarchical omnipotence. Passionate for justice and peace and compassionate over pain, Holy Wisdom typically self-reveals in the fragmentary breakthroughs of well-being that come about through human partnership with divine purpose. Forever God acts to create a fresh, new future: liberation is her signature deed. A God like this calls for an ethic of critical com-passion. We are impelled so to utter the word of God that the world will be changed and renewed by it. Religious people of all stripes are now in the transitional posi-tion of trying to find words and symbols for this personal and collective experience of God. A common language has yet to come to light. Yet the very way the search is being conducted gives some indication of the outcome. An LCWR paper expresses the efforts of women religious in this regard: God is immanent in creation, in the midst of the web of life. As we bond with the oppressed and marginalized, we know God standing on the side of the poor and oppressed, seeing with the eyes of the poor, leading the oppressed by alleviating oppression. In this context, we see God angry, sad, suffering, marginalized; we see God incarnated in peo-ples of color, in women, in the homeless and battered, the victims of violence and oppression of all kinds. And then the inevitable: Religious find themselves in a "Dark Night." The painful and intense moments of disintegration, which carry the hope for what can break through, characterize our living in this in-between.32 To sum up, the idea of God emerging in postmodern spiritual experience is a contemporary hermeneutic of the God whose reign Jesus preached and embodied: the God of life. If the experience of God is the core of religious life, and if it is this God who is being perceived in contemporary religious experience, then here is a key tt)eological factor shaping the future of religious life in the United States. Conclusion The dialectic between divine absence and presence, in the last analysis, is an experience of the Spirit of God: radically tran- ~tanlmry-February 1994 23 Johnson ¯ Between the Times scendent, like the wind blowing where it will; and at the same time radically immanent, dwelling at the heart of the world to vivify and renew all things. Empowered by the Spirit in our age, people of faith who treasure the living memory of Jesus seek the hidden God of life (contemplation) and live out the passion of God for the world in need (prophecy). It is my sense that religious life is riding the crest of this wave in the postmodern culture of the United States. Internally its forms are breaking down; its interpretive support systems are col-lapsing; rifts with the institutional church exacerbate the dark-ness, especially among women; many members are in distress. Most radically of all, forms of religious life that traditionally medi-ated the experience of God now not only do not mediate this experience but positively block it. At the same time, consciousness of the suffering of poor and marginalized peoples grows; action on behalf of justice continues to attract; women reclaim their human dignity and the voice that goes with it; the vivifying power of God is experienced in and through the human power to chal-lenge, cherish, and set free; the divine mystery is named in new ways. Here and there religious persons and communities begin to articulate the prophetic-contemplative identity coherent with these experiences and act in mission accordingly. For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. In my judgment, the times do not call for return to the securities of a previous age. In fact, the very effort to keep alive forms of religious life that have for the most part run their historical course may well be counterproductive to the evangelical following of Jesus. Rather,what is needed is vig-ilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evangelical life will develop. Notes ~ See summary by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. Hereafter cited as the Futures Project. Also in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. 2 1 would like to thank the following colleagues and friends for pro-viding me with materials for this essay: Mary Ann Donovan SC, Patricia Lucas CSJ, Thomas McKenna CM, Janet Ruffing SM, and Clara Santoro CSJ. My deep gratitude also goes to Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, John W. Padberg SJ, David Power OMI, and Sandra Schneiders IHM for read-ing and critiquing the manuscript in outline or finished form. 24 Review for Religious 3 Among the works that have made significant contributions are: Gerald Arbuclde, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist, 1988). ~. Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1987). Marcello Azevedo, Vocation for Mission: The Challenge of Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1988). Leonardo Boll, God's Witnesses in the Heart of tbe World (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1981). Lawrence Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury, 1979). Robert Daly et al., eds., Religious Life in the U.S. Church: The New Dialogue (New York: Paulist, 1984). Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990). David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads (New York: Paulist, 1985). Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). John Lozano, Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of Religious Life (Chicago: CCRS, 1983). ¯ Life as Parable: Reinterpreting the Religious Life (New York: Paulist, 1986)¯ Johannes Baptist Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist, 1978). Diarmuid O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991). Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1986). Jean Marie Tillard, A Gospel Path: Religious Life (Brussels: Lumen Vitae, 1975)¯ The Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): "Religious Life in Transition," pp. 1-152. Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist, 1991). Evelyn Woodward, Poets, Prophets and Pragmatists: A New Challenge To Religious Life (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). 4 Works include: Mary Ann Donovan, Sisterhood as Power: The Past and Passion of, Ecclesial Women (New York: Crossroad, 1989). Nadine Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth: Reflections on Identity by United States Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1988). January-February 1994 25 Johnson * Between the Times Marie Augusta Neal, Catholic Sisters in Transition: Front the 1960s to the 1980s (Wilmington, Delaware: Glazier, 1984). --. From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Ann Patrick Ware, ed., Midwives of the Futttre (Kansas City, Missouri: Leaven Press, 1985). s "Hope-Filled Deeds and Critical Thought: The Experience of American Male Religious and Their Need to Reflect on It," paper pre-pared for the Third Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 20- 50; John W. O'Malley, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49 (1988): 223-257. The dearth of works in this category is due, I think, to the fact that for most men authors until recently, male experience, given its normative status in church and society, is simply presumed. Thus gendered experience has not become a major category of interpre-tation as it has among women. 6 L. Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, is the ground-breaking study that brought the notion of cycles to present-day awareness. See the excellent fine-tuning of this thesis b~; Philip Sheldrake, "Revising Historical Perspectives," The \¥ay Supplement 65 (summer 1989): pp. 66- 77. 7 Here I have found the following particularly helpful: Howard Gray, "Shapes for the Fut.ure," pp. 289-295, and Helen Flaherty, "Religious Life in the U.S.--A Guess at the Future," pp. 296-309, in R. Daly, Religious Life in the U.S.; Anne Clifford, "Women Missioned in a Technological Culture," pp. 37-55, in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth; the address by Robert Schreiter, "The Environment of Religious Life in 2010," to CMSM/LCWR Assembly in Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989; and the videotape "Religious Life: The Constant Is Change," IHM Sisters, Monroe, Michigan, which is an analysis of societal trends by Amata Miller, Margaret Brennan, and Sandra Schneiders. 8 See Anne Carr, Transfo~wting Grace: Christian Tradition and I, Vomen's Experience (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988). 9 Joint Meeting of the CMSM and the Lcv~rR, Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989. ,0 Karl Rahner, "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," Theological Investigations, vol. 20, Concern for the Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 145. ~ One of the best contemporary treatises on contemplation remains William Johnston, The Inner Eye of Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978); and on prophecy, Walter Bruggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978). 26 Revieva for Religious 12 E. Schillebeeckx, Christ: The Experience of Jesus as Lord (New York: Seabury, 1980), p. 821. ,3 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision, passim. ,4 "Pilgrims and Prophets," paper drawn up by the Religious Life and Ministry Committee of the CMSM for the Fourth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in D. A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 51-64; quotation at p. 57. is S. Schneiders, New Wineskins, p. 32. 16 j. Lozano, Life as Parable, p. 9. 17 See Gordon Kaufman, The Theological Imagination: Constructing the Concept of God (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), pp. 187-189. Kaufmann argues here for the importance of the great symbol of Jesus Christ who, as the image of the invisible God, manifests a God who does not act in a violent way but rather creates a community of love and equality in a peaceable and free way. !8 Martin Luther, "Large Catechism," The Book of Concord (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959), p. 365. 19 Franz Kafka, "My Destination," Parables and Paradoxes (Berlin: Schocken, 1975), p. 189. I am indebted for this reference to Catherine Keller, "Toward a Postpatriarchal Postmodernity," in David Griffin, ed., Spirituality and Society: Postmodern Visions (Albany: State University of New York, 1988), p. 65. 20 S. Toulmin, The Return to Cosmology: Postmodern Science and the Theology of Nature (Berkeley: University of California, 1982), p. 254. For further descriptions of postmodernity, see Frederic Burnham, ed., Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989); and Paul Lakeland, Theology and Critical Theory (Nashville: Abingdon, 1990), chap. 7, "Catholicism and Postmodernity." 21 The essays in the Griffin collection are enlightening, especially his own "Introduction: Postmodern Spirituality and Society," pp. I-31. 22 H. P. Owen, Concepts of Dei~y (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), p. 1. 23 Sallie McFague, Models of God: Theology for an Ecological, Nuclear Age (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), pp. 63-69. 24 Janet Ruffing, "Seeing in the Dark: The Present Moment in Religious Life," address to regional meeting of LCWR, Sparkill, New York, September 1991, p. 10. This address, somewhat edited, appears in Review for Religious 51, no. 2 (March-April 1992): 236-248. 2s M. Buber, The Eclipse of God (New York: Harper and Row, 1952); K. Rahner, see note 10; C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," in Tilden Edwards, ed., Living with Apocalypse: Spiritual Resources for Social Compassion (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 93-116; S. Schneiders, see video-tape, note 7; M. Marry, A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983); Michael Bucldey, "Atheism and Contemplation," Theological Studies 40 (1979): 680-699. January-February 1994 27 Johnson ¯ Between the Times 26 William J. Hill, Knowing the Unknown God (New York: Philosophical Library, 1971), and In Search of the Absent God, Mary Catherine Hilkert, ed. (New York: Crossroad, 1992). 27 Quoted in Mary Catherine Hilkert, "The Experience of Impasse and the Roots of Wisdom," address to Dominican Leadership Conference, October 1991, p. 11. 28 D. Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: Macmillan, 1953), letter of 16 July 1944, p. 220. 29 Ibid, p. 219. 30 C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," p. 112. 31 For a profound analysis see Peter Hodgson, God in History: Shapes of Freedom (Abingdon: Nashville, 1989); and Wendy Farley, Tragic Vision and Divine Compassion: A Contemporary Theodicy (Louisville: Westminster, 1990). 32 "Reflections upon the Religious Life of U.S. Women Religious," paper prepared for the Fifth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life, 1985, and printed in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Tmtth," pp. 173-181; quotation at p. 177. Cana, Meaning Uncertain Wine flowed until there was no more at a wedding in Galilee; Mary, seeing this, turned to her son, one till then like any other, a brother, a carpenter who measured what he said and did. "They have no more wine," she said. He hesitated, questioned her, stirred up feelings between them. In the end Jesus acquiesced, six stone jars, water into wine, a fine line crossed, spirit revealed. Yet the uncertainty remains, was it not a mother's prompting that disrupted heaven's intent or is love so strong even God can be swayed by its openness? Neil C. Fitzgerald 28 Review for Religious JAN P. SCHOTTE The Consecrated Life in Church and World: Toward the Synod On 30 December 1991 the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, called for the gathering in autumn 1994 of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops to treat the topic: "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." But what exactly is a synod of bishops? What are the various theological elements connected with this institu-tion? What are its pastoral aspects? Practically speaking, how does the synodal process work? And in what way does the treatment of specific topics bring benefit to the whole church? toward the synod A Synod of Bishops Etymologically speaking, the term "synod," derived from the elision of two Greek words, syn meaning "together" and hodos meaning "road" or "way," literally means "together on the way" or "sharing a journey." This idea immediately calls to mind the Vatican II image of the church as the people of God "on the move," always on pilgrimage, led and guided by the Holy Spirit through history to its ultimate fulfillment when the Lord shall Jan P. Schotte CICM serves as the general secretary of the Synod of Bishops. This presentation of his to the May 1993 Meeting of the International Union of Superiors General in Rome was orig-inally published in the UISG Bulletin, no. 92, 1993, pp. 68-78. Bishop Schotte may be addressed at Office of the General Secretary; Piazza Pio XII, 3; 00193 Rome; Italy. January-February 1994 29 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church come again (see Lumen gentium, §6). The term also calls to mind some biblical associations. For example, in John's Gospel Jesus calls himself the "Way" (see Jn 14:6), and St. Paul makes reference to Christianity as the "Way" (see Ac 22:4). The term's rich theological and biblical associations can be saidto culminate in the concept of the church as communion. As quoted in Cbristifideles laici, "communion speaks of a double, life-giving participation: the incorporation of Christians into the life of Christ, and the communication of that life of charity to the entire body of the faithful, in this world and in the next, union with Christ and in Christ, and union among Christians in the church." Therefore, "communion" should not be looked upon as something static, but an active and dynamic reality which is both a hallmark of the church and the divine force continually enliven-ing her. This mystery of the church's communion is reflected in an unlimited number of ways in the church's life, from its most sub-lime aspect in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, to the var-ious encounters both personal and communal experienced by Christians everywhere. One instrument for celebrating the communal nature of the church on the local level is through archdiocesan and diocesan synods, which are becoming more frequent an occurrence. In convoking such a synod, a local bishop gathers around himself, as the source and foundation of communion or unity in his partic-ular church, various representatives of the church community-- lay, clerical, and religious--to pray and reflect in common and, using the eternal truths of the faith as set forth in the teachings of the church, to seek pastoral approaches and solutions to living the Christian life as a community and as individuals. The church's communal nature on the particular and univer-sal level also exists in the authority over the church which was established by Christ and subordinated to the task of preaching the gospel (see LG, §20 and §21). Therefore, where the synod of bishops uses the same word as that applied to celebrating the communal nature of the particular church, there is a basic theo-logical difference. The synod of bishops celebrates the mystery of church communion on the hierarchical level, that is, among the bishops. The Second Vatican Council describes this unity in the fol-lowing manner: "Just as, in accordance with the Lord's decree, 30 Review for Religious St. Peter and the rest of the apostles constitute a unique apos-tolic college, so in like fashion the Roman pontiff, Peter's suc-cessor, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are related with and united to one another'~ (LG, §22). This fundamental unity of the episcopate is the basis for the teaching on the collegiality of bishops (see LG, §22 and §23), which is like-wise an essential element in understanding the synod of bishops. The highest and fullest expression of this mystery of hierarchical communion is manifested and celebrated in an ecumenical council where the whole .episcopal college is convoked by the Holy Father. On various occasions the doc-uments of the Second Vatican Council refer to the episcopal gathering as a "synod" (see LG, §54; Christus Dominus, §36; etc.). But in this sense the word has the same meaning and theological significance as "council." Where the "synod of bishops" might resemble a "minicoun-cil," there is a fundamental qualitative difference between the two. For example, a synod convenes only a representative por-tion of the world episcopate, and unlike an ecumenical council, the synod of bishops is convened by the Holy Father for consulta-tive and not deliberative purposes. Nevertheless, despite the dif-ferences, "the synod of bishops," according to the Holy Father, "expresses collegiality in a highly ifitense way." The institution of the synod over twen.ty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. Pope Paul VI on 15 September 1965 in the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, establishing the synod of bishops, used these words: "With the aim of providing for a continuance after the council of the great abundance of benefits that we have been so happy to see flow to the Christian people during the time of the council as a result of our close collaboration with the bishops [and] because The institution of the synod over twenty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. January-February 1994 31 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church of our esteem and regard for all the Catholic bishops and with the aim of providing them with abundant means for greater and more effective participation in our concern for the universal church, on our own initiative and by our apostolic authority we hereby erect and establish here in Rome a permanent council of bishops for the universal church, to be directly and immediately subject to our power." Much more than a structure inspired by the Second Vatican Council, the synod of bishops has proven itself to be an apt instru-ment for the implementation of conciliar doctrine and the appli-cation of its pastoral directives. At the same time it has also been the forum for the interpretation and further development of the teachings and spirit of the council. An Instrument of Continuous Pastoral Renewal Though each session is called to respond to unique pastoral situations, no synod is ever an isolated event, but has a relation to other synodal gatherings. Because each synod calls together a representative portion of the episcopate with its head the pope, each synod has a relation to the whole church. At the same time, because the synod is a unique response of the episcopal college to the mandate or mission entrusted to it by the Savior, each synod has a relation to the fundamental salvific mission of the church through history as well. A brief look at the various synods which have taken place to date is evidence enough of the importance of these episcopal gatherings for the church and their value in bring-ing about the reforms intended by the council. Pope Paul VI stated the goals for the First Ordinary General Assembly, held in the fall of 1967: "the preservation and the strengthening of the Catholic faith, its integrity, its force, its development, its doctrinal and historical coherence." One result of this meeting was the eventual establishment of the International Commission of Theologians to assist the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and to broaden a discussion on approaches to theological research. The same assembly provided the stimu-lus for the 1983 publication of the revised Code of Canon Law and also made recommendations to the Holy Father on various pastoral questions. Two years later, in 1969, the First Extraordinary General Assembly was convoked to seek and examine ways and means of 32 Review for Religious putting into practice the collegiality of bishops with the pope. This meeting opened the door to greater collegiality in the pas-toral care of the universal church and in episcopal conferences and the relations between individual bishops. In 1971 the Second Ordinary General Assembly treated two subjects: "The Ministerial Priesthood" and "Justice in the World." In the former, treatment was centered on the theological nature of the priesthood with the intention of addressing certain diffi-culties experienced by priests in the course of their ministry. On the subject of justice, the bishops stated the need to relate the gospel to existing worldwide and local circumstances. "Evangelization in the Modern World" occupied the work of the Third Ordinary General Assembly held in 1974. At this assem-bly the bishops reemphasized the essential missionary character of the church and the duty of each member to bear wimess to Christ in the world. The bishops' recommendations and proposals sub-mitted to the pope were used in the formulation of the apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi. At the Fourth Ordinary General Assembly, which took place three years later, in 1977, the discussion of the bishops centered on "Catechesis in Our Times," with special attention given to the teaching of the faith to children and young people. Shortly after the synod, Pope John Paul II issued the apostolic exhortation Catecbesi tradendae, which utilized a great many of the bishops' insights and proposals. The First Special Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as "The Dutch Synod," was convoked in 1980 to examine more thoroughly the teachings of the Second Vatican Council on the mystery of church communion and its practical implications on the universal and local level, and the figure of the bishop and his ministry. In this way the synod sought at that time to address its designated topic, "The Pastoral Situation in Holland." The Fifth Ordinary General Assembly in 1980 reaffirmed the church's teaching on the family, in particular defending marriage and the contents of Humanae vitae. From the discussion and the proposals of the assembly, the pope issued the apostolic exhorta-tion Familiaris consortio. In 1983 the Sixth Ordinary General Assembly, held during a specially called Holy Year commemorating the 1950th year of Redemption, appropriately discussed the need of applying the fruits of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection to the individ- January-February 1994 33 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal. ual and society. The bishops' work during the synod served as the basis for the apostolic exhortation Reconciliatio et paenitentia, which for the first time was designated a "postsynodal" docu-ment. The Second Extraordinary General Assembly in 1985 com-memorated the "Twentieth Anniversary of the Conclusion of the Second Vatican Council" and assessed the state of church renewal according to conciliar teachings. The recently published Catechism of the Catholic Church was the result of a proposal by the bishops at this episcopal assembly. "The Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World" was the topic chosen for the Seventh Ordinary General Assembly in 1987. Through a con-sideration of vocation and mission in the context of church commu-nion, the bishops sought to empha-size the distinctive nature of the lay faithful in the church's life and her work of evangelization in the world. The fifty-four proposals of this assembly were used in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhortation Christifideles laici. In 1990 the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly again took up the subject of priesthood. However, where in 1971 the bishops focused on the theological nature of priesthood and its implica-tions, this assembly's attention was more pastoral in tone, cen-tering. upon priestly formation and the "person" of the priest himself-both religious and diocesan--before and after ordination. The forty-one proposals from this assembly were used by the Holy Father in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhor-tation, Pastores dabo vobis. The Special Assembly for Europe was called in the follow-ing year, 1991, to help discern the kairos of the situation on the European continent created by the historic fall of communism and to consider the role of the church in the various programs of renewal and construction. 34 Review for Religious In preparation are two other special assemblies. In his recent apostolic visitation to Africa last February, the Holy Father announced, in conjunction with the release of the assembly's Instrumenturn laboris, that this special assembly will take place in Rome in 1994, just after Easter. In March the Lineamenta of the special assembly for Lebanon was published, initiating the con-sultation phase of the preparation for that synod. These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal, giving opportunity through prayer and reflection to deepen a sense of the church's mission and to stimulate all the people of God to participate in this mission, each according to his or her state. Perhaps our under-standing of the synod of bishops can be further enhanced by fol-lowing the synod process which has taken place thus far in the preparation for the 1994 synod on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The 1994 Synodal Process The principles governing the synod of bishops and the synodal process are set forth in three basic documents: the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo of Pope Paul VI establishing the synod; Ordo synodi episcoporum celebrandae, or the Constitutions of the Synod of Bishops; and the Code of Canon Law, canons 342 to 348 inclusive. For the purpose of our presentation I will limit myself to those aspects of the process which immediately affect the synod topic, its documentation, and the various preparatory phases leading to the synodal gathering. Before the conclusion of the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, the synod fathers were asked to elect from their number, according to synod regulations, the required fifteen-member council to assist the general secretary in the follow-up work of the assembly and to work on the prepa-ration of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. At the same time the synod fathers were invited to make suggestions on a topic to be treated at the next general assembly. There is a certain value to this initial exchange on the topic during the general assembly because the responses are spontaneous and unprepared. In making their suggestions the bishops were asked to keep in mind the following general criteria in selecting a synodal topic: (1) January-February 1994 35 Sctsotte ¯ Tlse Consecrated Life in rise Church that the topic have a universal character, that is, a reference and application to the whole church; (2) that the topic have a con-temporary character and a certain urgency, that is, have the capa-bility of exciting new energies and movement in the church towards growth; (3) that the topic have a pastoral focus and appli-cation as well as a firm doctrinal basis; and (4) that treatment of the topic be feasible, in other words, that it have the potential actually to be accomplished. In retrospect it is interesting to note that even in the initial consultation during the synod itself a con-vergence of ideas was evident regarding the treatment of some aspect of the consecrated life. Shortly after the conclusion of the general assembly, the gen-eral secretariat continued the consultation process by preparing a letter with the above criteria and sending it to the patriarchates, bishops' conferences, heads of offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General--the normal participants in the synod process. This communication requested the submission of three topics in order of preference. The suggestions coming from this consultation were then analyzed and discussed by the members of council of the general secretariat at one of its regularly sched-uled meetings, and a series of formulations of the theme in order of preference was submitted to the Holy Father. Until now the Holy Father has always selected the council's first choice, con-vinced that the consultation process provides a true indication of the desire of the universal church to treat a given subject. Such was the case for the topic of the 1994 synod. The general consultation process revealed a remarkable con-vergence of ideas indicating a preference for the topic of the con-secrated life. Initially some persons made a rather shallow interpretation to explain the choice, insisting that since the laity and the priesthood were treated in the two previous synodal assemblies, it was only logical that the consecrated life should receive attention. The truth of the matter is that in the course of the consultation a great number of reasons were given for calling a synod to treat the topic of the consecrated life. Many argued in the following manner. 1) With the importance of the consecrated life in the church today, there is necessity to reaffirm its true nature in various new social contexts and in the world at large. 2) The flourishing of vocations in some parts of the world 36 Review for Religious and the crisis of vocations in others requires a thorough exami-nation of the consecrated life. 3) After the Second Vatican Council, various efforts have been made to rewrite constitutions, to propose anew the charism of the founder, and so forth, and consecrated life in general has been subject to an overall renewal. Therefore, the time seems right to engage in an evaluative process. 4) The question of the relationship of those in consecrated life to bishops deserves renewed consideration as well as the sub-ject of the greater participation of women and men religious in the overall pastoral plan of a diocese, particularly in light of the unique charism proper to each. Where the document Mutuae relationes has been fruitful and productive on the whole, certain episcopal con-ferences have given indications that there remain some areas still needing attention. 5) The new forms of consecrated life appearing in many parts of the church require evaluation and proper guidance. The nature of religious institutes, secular institutes, and the societies of apos-tolic life needs to be clarified and their role in the church more clearly defined. Many of the new forms of unions and confrater-nities are appearing with the false notion that they are part of the consecrated life according to the evangelical counsels. 6) Some developments and interpretations have caused the common life for religious to be questioned. In some countries there are situations which deserve attention. 7) The prophetic character of consecrated life in certain cir-cumstances needs to be more clearly defined. How is a person in the consecrated life to respond in faithfulness to his or her voca-tion in the face of secularization, the crisis in culture, and the decline in moral values? 8) In some countries religious congregations have abandoned the work proper to them in favor of individual attempts at apos-tolic work. Such a situation raises the concern of religious con-gregations as well as bishops, requiring them to seek the proper pastoral approach to such situations. The above sampling of reasons underlying the choice of topic for the 1994 synod sufficiently indicates its universal appeal, pas-toral relevance, timely character, and feasibility. At the same time, it can be seen that they have a general inter-est for the entire church. In virtue of the church's unity, every part and every member will be affected by the exchange and out- January-Fetrruary 1994 37 Schotte * The Consecrated Life in the Church come. In this sense the synod will not simply treat a topic, but make suggestions to the Holy Father regarding the future. What does the consecrated life have in store for the future? How are those in consecrated life to live out their consecration in the apos-tolic mission of the church? What courageous and bold steps are required to meet the unique challenges made on consecrated life by the present state of affairs in the church and society? Before these questions can be faced by the bishops in syn-odal assembly, the church at large will have time to reflect on them and other aspects of the topic and be invited to make their observations known through the proper channels so that those required to make official responses on the topic to the general secretariat will have current information with which to work. The 1994 Lineamenta The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. We logically pause to devote some time to explaining the Lineamenta document, the present stage of preparation for the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. After the Holy Father's choice of topic, the council of the general secretariat at a regularly scheduled meeting held a roundtable discussion with the secretary of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and with representatives from the various groups associated with con-secrated life, that is, women and men religious, members of sec-ular institutes, and members of the international organizations of consecrated life in the church, namely, the Union of Superiors General for Men and the International Union of Women Superiors as well as the International Congress of Secular Institutes. The observations resulting from this meeting were fur-ther discussed and developed in subsequent council meetings, and with the help of theologians an outline and texts of the Lineamenta were drafted and studied, before a definitive text was submitted to the Holy Father. As its Latin name suggests, the Lineamenta is an "outline" or general presentation of the synod topic followed by a series of questions intended to direct the prayer and reflection of the whole church on the subject. The information resulting from this stage will provide the raw material for the synod's Instrumentum laboris 3 8 Review for Religious or "working document," intended to present a composite picture of the present situation and prevailing attitudes in the church on consecrated life and its role in the church and in the world. The Lineamenta document is divided into three major parts, each treating a specific aspect of the topic: (1) "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life"; (2) "The Consecrated Life in the church and in the World of Today"; and (3) "The Role of Consecrated Life." The document's initial pages immediately address the prob-lem of terminology. Strictly speaking, the term "consecrated life" in Canon Law refers to religious con-gregations and secular institutes only. What, then, is to be done with soci-eties of apostolic life? Since canon 731, § 1, states that the societies of apostolic life are "comparable to the institutes of consecrated life," it was agreed that the synod topic would also include their treatment. Therefore, when the term is used in the Lineamenta, it is meant to be all-inclusive. After a brief introduction, Part I begins with an explanation of the essential characteristics of the conse-crated life, namely, vocation, conse-cration, mission, the evangelical counsels, the common life, eschato-logical witness, its essential values, and the commitment to the spiritual life. The section then proceeds to speak of the charismatic nature of the consecrated life, as wit-nessed in its variety of charisms and multiplicity of forms. In this regard attention is given to the charism of the founder or foundress, the various forms of consecrated life, institutes of con-templative life, brothers, secular institutes, societies of a.postolic life, and the new forms of consecrated life emerging today. The second part of the document describes the present situ-ation of the consecrated life in the church and in today's world, seeking on this basis to suggest various subtopics which merit consideration, for example, the direction to be taken by the con-secrated life with the approach of the third millennium, the fruits of renewal, new values and aspects of the consecrated life, nega- The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. Jam~ary-February 1994 39 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church tive aspects (even these must be addressed), the necessity of a clear witness in responding to the challenges of modern society, and finally the situation in various countries and cultures (Africa and Asia come especially to mind). This section ends with a call to those in consecrated life to continue the renewal begun after the Second Vatican Council. The third section speaks in practical terms of the role of the consecrated life in the church and society, beginning with a pre-sentation on the ecclesial dimensions of the consecrated life, its relation to the church hierarchy, its coordinating structures in fostering communion, its place on the level of the local church, and its communion with the lay faithful. With this in mind, var-ious topics related to the role of the consecrated life within the universal church community are treated, including the new evan-gelization, authentic apostolic creativity, acceptance of the call to evangelization, remaking the fabric of society, promoting the unity of all the baptized, and the dialogue with followers of other religions. The concluding portion of Part III turns its attention to the church's mission in the world, emphasizing features associ-ated with the consecrated life, for example, its specific witness to God's love through the works of mercy; its attention to young people and their needs; its presence in schools, hospitals, and social programs; its dedication to work on behalf of the poor; its role--past and present--in the transmission and formation of cul-ture; and its part in the church's work of safeguarding the values of nature and conscience in today's world. The closing pages of the Lineamenta then offe~ a brief look at Mary as the model and mother of the consecrated life and a reflec-tion on the consecrated life in terms of a renewed presence of Christ in the world of today. The presentation concludes with a section containing the document's endnotes, followed by a table of contents. Incorporated in the Lineamenta text and appearing at the con-clusion of each section is a series of twenty-five consecutively numbered questions which are meant to focus the prayer and dis-cussion of the universal church on various aspects of the synod topic. At the same time, these questions and numbers are to pro-vide an orderly structure for the responses from various individ-uals and church bodies which will be formulated and submitted in the lively exchange on all levels of the church community dur-ing the consultation period. 40 Review for Religious Official responses are expected to be filed with the general secretariat by those normally involved in the consultation pro-cess, that is, patriarchates, episcopal conferences, offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General for Men. Given the synod topic, the International Union of Women Superiors and the International Congress for Secular Institutes are also to submit responses. All responsible for such responses are to work on the best possible manner of facilitating the reading of the document by individuals and groups associated with them, and of seeking information from them so that the responses may be truly complete and reflect the richness of the exchange on the various levels of the local church community. With the publication of the Lineamenta on 20 November 1992, a significant and important stage in the preparation for this synodal assembly was initiated. I would even go so far as to say a most critical phase, because the richness and depth of the Instrumentum laboris, the reference point and source of discus-sion during the actual synodal assembly, depends on the widespread participation of the whole church and a thorough-ness in answering the series of questions posed in the Lineamenta. For this reason, it is incumbent upon each individual in the church, no matter what his or her state or circumstance, to con-tribute through the accustomed channels in this presynodal prepa-ration period, thereby providing the necessary information which will be eventually used in the official responses to be sent to the general secretariat. From my experience over the years I am becoming more aware and convinced of the very real contribution and impact of synodal assemblies in the life of the church. These beneficial results come about not simply from a month-long meeting, but from the whole synodal process, from the consultation regard-ing the theme, the prayer and reflection period, the actual cele-bration of the synod, and its follow-up. Not only do the reflection and prayer which are a part of the Lineamenta phase assist in setting the agenda in the Instrumentum laboris or "working paper," but the process itself taps and exer-cises the dynamism of church communion in the listening, shar-ing, and stirring up of new energies on various levels of the church community. And after the synodal assembly, where there is a con-centrated effort at intensely living the communion which has come beforehand, the effects make themselves felt years later. January-February 1994 41 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church The Lineamenta itself makes reference to this fact when it states that the occasion of this synod will provide the opportunity for "all members of the church, particularly the institutes of con-secrated life, to reconsider the subject of their own renewal in light of the challenges and the opportunities of the present moment," based on the church's appeal in these days "for a renewed endeavor towards evangelical life, towards a profound spirituality, and towards a generous presence in the new evange-lization" (§33). This time of synodal preparation, then, is an occa-sion for hope, a hope that this profound examination of the status of renewal and the prospects for future growth of the consecrated life in all its aspects will be a moment of grace and revitalization, and bring great benefits to all those in consecrated life and to the church as a whole. Message from a Coreopsis Lanceolata (Daisies Do Tell) Some of us are past our prime, And one of us has lost a few petals; Another--will never see the sun. Yet we all rejoice That we reflect our Maker And celebrate a loving God Who signs each one of us With his own life's Blood. Joann Stuever, ASC postulant 42 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Charism, Charisms, and Faddism d sexagenarian religious superior who keeps abreast of the times asked me if I had read the recent document on reli-gious life produced by the council of the General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops. I said yes, adding hesitantly: "But it is not very interesting." Without hesitation she agreed completely. The Point of Departure: The Lineamenta Surely the Lineamenta, the preliminary agenda on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World" prepared in view of the forthcoming Ninth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, is not a particularly charismatic piece of writing. After all, it is not from the pen of a theologian like Rahner, or a biblicist like Elsa Tamez, or a feminist like Ruether, or a third-world figure like Amalorpavadass, or a cardinal like Martini. On the contrary, it is an official document with its strengths and weaknesses, treating the topic "in a complete organic manner, indicating the topic's precise content and its necessary limits''1 and touching upon "only the essential points of doctrine" (§4).2 As such, therefore, it would read somewhat like a protocol without the charismatic cadence or resonance of your fa~,orite author. However, considering that the document is the product of the pastoral office of the church, we would not be wrong if we rec-ognized in it the charismatic teaching included by Paul in his lists A. Paul Dominic SJ can be addressed at Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. .~anuary-Felrruary 1994 43 Dominic * Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism of charisms. And so what it says about religious life as a charism that includes many a charism can serve for our mental nourish-ment and impart to us a spiritual gift (Rm 1:11). It can set us thinking about religious life as a matter of charismatic experi-ence, that is, an experience of living a fundamental charism through as many different charisms as there are societies of"con-secrated" or "apostolic" life. Any serious reflection on this mat-ter will prove to be relevant, for the prevailing confusion in religious life concerns partly the lack of clarity about charism and charisms.3 Religious Life as Charism Religious life, like all life, is best observed in its relationships. On the one hand, it is a part of the church; and, on the other, it is itself the church and so serving, like the church, the rest of the world (§3, §25, and §44). In the first perspective, religious life is one of the many charisms of the church; in the second, it is, as we said earlier, a fundamental charism giving rise to a wide variety of expressions of itself. The religious state of life is a "particular gift in the life of the church" (Lumen gentium, §43). As such it can be properly appre-ciated only when we see it in place, beside many other similar gifts enjoyed by the church. That is why the Lineamenta begins the consideration of charisms (§14-§17) recalling the mystery of the church as the Mystical Body of Christ endowed with many gifts, quoting Paul: "There are many different gifts, but it is always the same Spirit; there are many different ways of serving, but it is always the same Lord. There are many different forms of activ-ity, but in everybody it is the same God who is at work in all" (1 Co 12:4-6). By the parallelism of the verses, the different ways of service or activity are all to be understood as gifts in a variety of forms. Paul goes on to list such gifts in the immediate context (i Co 12:8-10, 28) and also in other letters (Rm 12:6-8 and Ep 4:11). A look at all the lists can give us an idea of the wide range of gifts enjoyed by the growing church. Though it would be anachronistic to look for the mention of religious life among the listed gifts of the Spirit bestowed on the church, note that celibacy is proposed as a special gift (1 Co 7:7). In the course of time the church came to recognize many more gifts in its ongoing life, gifts like asceticism, monasticism, vir- 44 Review for Religious ginity, choice of poverty, and social virtues, to speak only of those that have an obvious reference to religious life.4 As the church grew in self-awareness, it came to discover many elements that we now associate with religious life as its specific gifts; and so today we can speak about "the charism of the consecrated life" (§14), that is to say, the consecrated life itself viewed as a gift or charism. However various and heterogeneous the different charisms may be in the manner of their working, they are one and homo-geneous in intent and purpose. They are all meant to build up the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ is built up when the mem-bers are well nourished and so live to the full, reaching unity in faith and knowledge of the Son of God and forming the perfect Person fully mature with the fullness of Christ himself (Ep 4:13). This fullness of Christ is the same as the life permeated by the Spirit ever filling us or even overwhelming us with all her gifts and charisms. Such a life energized by the working of the Spirit is spiritual and holy. M1 the charisms of the Spirit nourish the life of the church, making it ever more holy with the life of Christ himself. Situating religious life thus in the sphere of the church's life of holiness and recognizing in it a universal reality in the church's makeup, the Lineamenta concludes: "With this in mind one speaks of 'the charism of the consecrated life'" (§14). Here is surely an echo of the approach to religious life taken by Lumen gentium, §39-§47. Such an affirmation of religious life, however, is slightly marred by the way the Lineamenta, following of course Vatican expresses it. After describing the way of holiness of religious life marked by vows that establish a special bond to God, Lumen gen-tium concludes: "Thus, although the religious state., does not belong" to the hierarchical structure of the church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (see L §1; see also §14 and §36). One can discover a patronizing voice here, rightly or wrongly. Anyway, what a difference it would make if the state-ment were to read towards the end: "nevertheless, like the hier-archy, the religious state too belongs inseparably to her life and holiness." Does not Vatican II after all state in the chapter on universal holiness, "In the various types and duties of life, one and the same holiness is cultivated by all who are moved by the Spirit of God" (LG §41), and further go on to describe the way of holiness of the different classes of persons and finally end with a clear reference to the life of the religious (LG §41 and §42)? January-February 1994 45 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism There is a good reason why we can parallel religious life and hierarchy in this way. Of all the charisms enumerated by Paul-- who, incidentally, developed the terminology of charisms--the pastoral office of the hierarchy is the only one that concerns a state of life. This idea gets all the greater force because the pas-toral letters signal a development in the idea of charism which continued to prevail in postapostolic times. Paul's reminder to Timothy, "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you when the prophets spoke and the body of elders laid their hands on you" (i Tm 4:14), a reminder repeated again in 2 Timothy 1:6, certainly refers to Timothy's charism as one of grace of state or office. If we add to this way of looking at the hierarchical charism the reference to the charism of married life in 1 Corinthians 7:7, where there is a simultaneous reference to the charism of celibacy too, we can discern a line of thinking in which the various particular vocations in Christian life can be considered charisms establishing people in different states of life. So we can now speak in particular of the charism of religious life as the grace of the religious state of life; contributing to the holiness of the church in a particular way. In this context it is enlightening and inspiring to recall an old nomenclature of the religious state of life, namely, the state of perfection, proclaiming visibly the prophetic office of Christ wit-nessing to the kingdo~n here and hereafter. What is basic about states of perfection is the perfection to be acquired by way of the evangelical counsels in a community set-up. The function of any particular way of religious life, contemplative or active, lies. in this: that religious, by their very striving after holiness, call upon all Christians to do the same in their own way. So remarking, Bernard H~iring quotes papal authority in support: "The church would not fully respond to the mind of her Divine Bridegroom, men would not fix their eyes on her as on the 'the signal unto the nations'., if they did not find in her men who reflected the splendor of the gospel more through the example of their life than by means of words.''s All this is not so old-fashioned. A few years ago America carried an article describing religious as those who, unlike the laity, make religion their very career with its own particular structures that not only favor and promote it but also witness to it.6 The charism of religious is to be identified with striving for perfection, as the Lineamenta often repeats (§3, §5, §8, and §16). 46 Review for Religious To speak of the state of perfection is perhaps not a post-Vatican practice. However, in avoiding the falsity of perception possible in the expression, one need not altogether abandon its right use. Rather, we need to rediscover in the correct meaning of the phrase some essentials of religious life. Here is one: "It is not so much we who profess as others (the church, the community) who recognize that we. at least have received an explicit call and have come to a state of commitment to pursue it relentlessly, wholeheartedly; and radically.''7 But even in so reflecting on religious life as a state of perfec-tion, one should beware of a dan-ger. If one were to emphasize the personal pursuit of perfection that religious undertake, one is liable to overemphasize all their many undertakings on the path to perfection, thereby forgetting that any and every charism is a pure and simple gift of God. The story of Peter is apt here, as Bonhoeffer tells it. "Three times Peter heard himself proclaim that Christ is his Lord and God--at the beginning, at the end, and at Caesarea Philippi. Each time it is the same grace of Christ calling Peter to follow, and revealing itself to him in his confession." To reiterate the idea with Bonhoeffer: "This grace was certainly not self-bestowed. It was the grace of Christ himself.''8 Quoting all this, J.M.R. Tillard concludes; "Now, this costly grace., is for Simon Peter and for every religious the charism which makes existence as such a sign of the gospel. This charism comes from the Lord's Spirit . It is truly a gift made by the risen Lord, through his Holy Spirit, to his people. The Lord passes by. his grace seizes certain men and women. Poor sinners, they are nonetheless of those who will say to . . . the world: 'We have found what we were looking for! Come and see!' This is their charism.''9 One may, then, delve into the experience of religious life and discover in its depths not so much a for but a because of. No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One Who calls. "The for will come later, nec-essarily, but in the radiance and as the evangelical fruit of the No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One who calls. ~tanuar2/-Febrttary 1994 47 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism because of," as Tillard says.~° Can anything be clearer than this? Yet in the culture shock that religious were exposed to after Vatican Council II, not a few sought their identity in their works and tasks, in their of religious life. But the more they did so, the more elusive they found it. For their real existence as religious was concentrated in the call of Christ to which they had once com-mitted themselves because of the altogether new experience of being seized by the Lord's power. Their existence, therefore, became, or ought to have become, a new existence, a charismatic existence, a charism. Such a vision of religious life as the charism in itself appears distinctly, though in a less charismatic expression, in the Lineamenta when it speaks of the profession of the gospel as the supreme rule for all institutes, whatever their particular ministries may be (§8; see also Perfectae caritatis, §2). The Charisms of Religious Life Once religious life is understood in terms of one unique exis-tential charism underlying all forms of it, one may be able to appreciate the more familiar experience of the particular charisms that at once characterize and distinguish the various institutes. It is in this way that the Lineamenta would seem to interpret the charismatic nature of religious life as taught in the conciliar and postconciliar documents (§ 14). Logically and theologically, the consideration of the charism that constitutes religious life leads to that of the many charisms of religious life. It is the one charism of religious life that begets many a charism in it. Are not the latter "like branches sprouting out wondrously and abundantly from a tree growing in the field of the Lord"? (LG §43, quoted in L §16). Historically, however, what attracted the attention of people was the variety of charisms and not the one charism beneath and beyond all charisms. So, tracing the beginning of religious life from the very infancy of the church, Perfectae caritatis could point out: "Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, many., pursued a solitary life, or founded religious families . And so it happened by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities grew up" (§ 1, partly quoted in L § 16). The mention of solitary life and religious families obviously refers to the twin charisms of original religious life, namely, 48 Review for Religious eremiticism and cenobitism (§9 and §19c). Cenobitism itself in the course of history developed two other charisms, namely, divine contemplation and human service. These in turn became spe-cialized in their ways of focusing on God and on people. In what-ever century religious live out their days, they adopt or develop distinct varieties of direct service of God and humanity, in imita-tion of Christ. Through them, therefore, Christ comes to be shown "contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father" (LG §46, quoted in L §15). Often enough, charisms are considered, or even identified with, graces meant for the common good. Such a consideration is incomplete because it misses something important, namely, the source of the power of service. Charisms are particular graces imparted to us by which we bear or image or reflect or even become Christ in ourselves in a particular limited way, and so are able to render appropriate service in a specific context in a par-ticular part of the world in the manner of Christ himself. So they highlight in us "a specific aspect of the mystery of Christ" (§ 17). However, the gospel, or for that matter Christ himself, if under-stood with proper nuance, is not apart from the church. So the Lineamenta does well in describing charisms as bearing upon a specific aspect, not only of the mystery of Christ, but also of the church's life, and thus manifesting in the makeup of the Mystical Body the multiform grace of Christ (§15). One should not miss here how charisms are at once incarnational and ecclesial (§46). Charisms and Service Once it is grasped that charisms have to do primarily with a fundamental religious way of being, one cannot go wrong in insist-ing that charisms are out-and-out oriented towards service, "des-tined for service of the kingdom" (§3); for surely charisms have an inalienable reference, not only to the way of being, but also to the way of doing. The Lineamenta spells out the nexus between charism and service forcefully thus: "Each charism . . . brings with it a particular manner of faithfully and intensely living the evangelical counsels. In addition, it implies a particular and con-crete style of spiritual life, a determined form of apostolate, a .~anuary-February 1994 49 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism specific experience of community life, and a particular involvement in the world" (816 [emphasis added]; see also $8). What, then, are the specific paths of service in the building of the earthly city (§44)? Not forgetting the contribution of the contemplatives to society through their divine service of worship (§2)--the first permanent foundation of women in the United States was Carmelites~l--the Lineamenta illustrates the service of active charisms thus: "Today the consecrated life is present in our society through the multiplicity of apostolic services rendered to others, each according to its diverse charisms, in one magnificent expression of the charity of Christ on behalf of the integral for-mation of persons; in the education of children and young people, in the care of the sick, the suffering, the elderly, and those in want; and in aid to persons with special needs and those marginal-ized by society" (§44a). What do all such services intend except "to make operative the gospel of the beatitudes and the works of mercy" (§44a)? One particular element of service rendered by charisms con-cerns life of communion within the church. Different forms of religious life characterized by their different charisms do not con-stitute exclusive churches within the church, but, forming part of the one church, ought to feel themselves to be the church and so identify themselves with her (~3 and ~35; see also Perfectae car-itatis, §2c). The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the religious themselves (~16, §26e, and §46). For not only are they meant for the growth of the chhrch, but they also have their origin, regulation, guarantee, and approval in and from the church (§6, §15, and §16). Therefore, far from being closed in upon themselves, religious offer a rich fare for communion, reflecting ideal church commu-nion (§9). There is every reason, then, to identify the religious living together by the term community. Incidentally, the hierarchy as such can only contribute, in terms of sociology, to the culture of societas with role differentiation; but the religious as such plunge themselves into the heart of society with their charisms of ser-vice (§3, ~42, and §44) and break through segmentations in soci-ety and initiate the culture of communitas in our world.~2 In bringing about this new culture of communion in the world church, the religious, as "experts in communion" (§35), have nec- 50 Review for Relig~otts essarily to act locally in the particular church, but with their hearts spanning universally in the global church (§27a). The exercise of religious charisms "assists everyone--clergy and faithful--to open themselves to the universal and missionary dimension of the church, and., makes the particular churches an image of the uni-versal church" (§39). For a con-crete example of communion resulting from the enduring charisms, the Lineamenta points out the flourishing of lay third orders, lay associations, and lay-volunteer groups "whose mem-bers are bound under different titles to the spirituality and apos-tolic work of various institutes" (}41). Where the charisms do not serve the cause of church com-munion, they are likely to become mere means of some service or religious themselves. other without the underlying spirit. The Lineamenta warns of the danger of reducing the pres-ence of institutes to parochial ser-vice "without encouraging and welcoming the richness of the spirituality and their proper charismatic service" (~40). More plainly, in the church Body each part can do only the service it is meant for. As charisms are vivifying and beautifying graces of the differ-ent members of the Body of the church (§46), they complement one another; and so they cannot healthily coexist without mutual encounter and influence. Perhaps, in the pre-Vatican "ghetto" church, religious congregations developed their own ghettos, pos-sibly without even knowing it. But the time has come, especially in the era of ecumenism, for % better understanding of the sense of communion among foundational charisms" (§27b). It is high time, therefore, for religious to realize how a particularly har-monious communion among themselves, sharing one another's charism, "can and should contribute to express better the full-ness and richness of Christ" (§46), not only in his Body the church, but also in his extended body, the world in need of union. The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the Jan~ry-Febrz~ry 1994 51 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism As charisms serve the cause of communion in the church, so do they contribute to the unity of the separate congregations them-selves. It is unthinkable that a religious family could maintain its unity of life amid all its committed involvement in the world if it failed to cling to its essential charism for nourishment (§32b). Each particular charism, bringing with it a particular manner of intense eyangelical life, makes the presence of the one Lord pres-ent in space and time (§46) and thus "enriches the legacy of life, history, and spirituality characterizing each family identity, shared in common through the spirit of the founder or foundress" (§16). Keeping Charisms Alive The dynamism of religious life in its variety depends on the vitality of its true charisms. Once charisms turn false, they lose their vitality and spell the ruin of institutes. Present-day insti-tutes can continue their existence faithfully only if they recog-nize, recover, retain, and renew their particular charisms in their past originality and present timeliness (~ 17). What, then, can we say about the renewal of charisms? "In keeping with their proper charism" (§40) and similar phrases recur in the Lineamenta, as in the Code of Canon Law, emphasizing that the charisms are to be preserved with fidelity and continued without alteration, avoiding all subtle deviation from the original spirit (§16). This supposes in religious a healthy appreciation and pride in the early traditions of their congrega-tion, as advocated by Perfectae caritatis. Given the evangelical inspiration of all charisms, one can say more, drawing a compar-ison between keeping to the purity of the gospel and maintaining the primitive charism. As Paul insisted on an anathema for those who dare preach a different gospel (Ga 1:8-9), religious founders and foundresses could do likewise, enjoining their followers to abide by the spirit of their constitutions without any dilution or dissimulation on their part.13 In this spirit, while expressing appre-ciation of the general progress in the awareness of the separate charisms in the different congregations in the postconciliar era, the Lineamenta adds affirmatively: "This consciousness ought to find expression in a spiritual commitment and a working pres-ence which effectively enlivens and makes operative for the good of the church the spirit of the founder orfoundress and the legacy of each institute" (§3 lc). 52 Review for Religious Two modern experiences with regard to charisms are note-worthy. One, the preferential choice for the poor, which has been "a constant feature of charisms in the apostolic life, often inspired by the words and actions of the Lord" (§44c; see also §27d), is becoming more and more a serious concern for religious life, leading communities to share the very life of the poor and the marginalized with all their risks, trials, and problems. Second, reminiscent of the early successes of many a congregation, there is the geographical spread of extant charisms in the younger churches of the third world and in the newly liberated Eastern European countries (§27c), giving rise to new cultural expres-sions of them (§32c). The above-mentioned experiences are two fine examples of how charisms rise to the occasion and serve their purpose today, provided they are ever deepened and constantly developed (Mutuae relationes, §1 i; L ~16) according to the signs of the times (Perfectae caritatis, §2; L §17). The sign today is the oncoming of the third millennium, throwing up opportunities and challenges (§33) and giving rise to the sprouting of new charisms and new forms of evangelical life (§24 and §27c). One aspect of this deepening and developing of surviving charisms lies in the direction of their "being called upon today-- inspired by the spirit of the founder or foundress--to serve as the basis for making new commitments and responses in Christian charity to the new and old expressions of poverty in our world" (§29g) and, more generally, to the changed atmosphere of the world "because of the social and cultural happenings which have rapidly come about in modern society" (§25). This is reminiscent of the call of Mutuae relationes to be innovative enough for bold enter-prising initiatives (§12; L §42). Which persons are inspired enough and thus inspiring enough to make new initiatives and refound their congregations, warding off the subtle temptation to be wise in their own eyes? Only fer-vent people (§29e). Only they can update discerningly for today the expressions of their original charism. But in the absence of such people "a certain leveling in behavior and in the tenor of the spiritual and communal life has brought a certain loss of prac-tical identity in charism and works" (§28b)--as surely happened in India, for instance, when some religious working with the masses wanted no public association whatever with their congre-gation. So the apparently clever and outspoken members certainly ~tammry-February 1994 53 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism need to be cautioned, against tendential postures, theoretical and practical, regarding charisms that go against their.genuineness (§3 lc). A case in point was that of a Jesuit who spoke of the need to rewrite the Ignatian rules for thinking with the church, to the applause of the gathering of course, with scant awareness of their foundation in the mystical union of the church and Christ that inspired Ignatius's Eharacteristic service of the church. While there have been new, positive, and worthy initiatives-- the switch of women religious in the United States from the ser-vice of the clergy to frontier ministries should be hailed as one such measure though grudged by not a few men even in the highly progressive United States of Americal4--there have also been negative, unworthy, and false initiatives--which brings me to the discussion of faddism. Faddism Faddism, the cultivation of fads, has to do with "a rapid, sud-den, and ephemeral collective adoption of novel behavior which affects only superficial or trivial areas of life.''s It was certainly the fad of hasty paradigm shifting when some persons clamored for implementing changes in religious life at a faster pace than peo-ple could cope with. Even when people were willing to change, it was not without the grief of losing the familiar past or the fear of the unknown future. So whoever rushed their fellow religious into the world of Vatican II without at the same time providing them time to grapple with their fear or to grieve over or even rage about their apparent loss were carried away more by an itch for change (2 Tm 4:3) than by the breath of the Spirit, for whom there are times for everything. It was also a fad whenever an opinion gained ground that this or that particular individual was the resource person for renewal. To venture an example, it would seem that a certain fad of what may be called spiritual consumerism surrounded Anthony de Mello of Sadbana fame, for numbers of people kept looking to him alone for renewal, almost as if he were the director of world-wide renewal. In any case, whenever one individual looms too large in some endeavor, the result tends to be superficial, whereas all renewal worth the name happens deep within people, where the creative Spirit works in the innermost recesses of hearts. Another similax: fad, which coflld be called hybridization, was 54 Review for Religious the adoption of a celebrated model as the sole means of renewal, whether or not it squared with the blueprint of one's own origi-nal charism. If the one-month retreat according to the Spiritual Exercises appeared to be such a fad some twenty years ago, today in certain circles external dialogue--whether with native tradi-tions or modern situations--would seem to hold sway more than inner dialogue within one's own charism. Among all those who were "zealous" about reforms in reli-gious life, precious few resorted to a real praxis. Not only did individuals and small groups indulge in the fad of stylized ideo-logical talk.~6 Even entire provinces, if not whole congregations, could be all talk, adopting popular phrases about the poor, for example, rather than making sincere options for them. How pro-ductive can all this exercise be except for inviting occasional out-right condemnation. A bold village woman responded to a group of young religious whose actions were not as forthcoming as their words, "These are not the kind of shepherds who will save the sheep; they swallow the sheep." What is absent in feverish talk, namely, action, can itself become a fad and go beyond all proportion. The slogan (not the idea itself) "formation for mission in mission" suits such a fad, giving the go-by to minimum privacy and seclusion for necessary growth in maturity and personalization. Showmanship and one-up- manship feed this fad, causing each one's action to be largely unproductive. These things are the very opposite of prophetic action. They may have the imaginativeness of the prophets of old, but not their soundness of inspiration. The craze of using anything and everythin

Issue 32.5 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review Jot 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 (~) 1973 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. 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 ]or 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 September 1973 Volume 32 Number 5 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, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Documents on the Holy Year Paul VI Given here are five documents in chronological order concerning the Holy Year. The English text is that given in the English language weekly edition of Osservatore romatzo. OUR LADY AND THE HOLY YEAR (MAY 30, 1973) You know about the Holy Year. It begins in the local Churches on the forthcoming feast of Pentecost. It aims at being a period of spiri[ual and moral renewal, and at finding its characteristic expression in reconciliation, that is, in the recomposition of order, of which Christ is the principle, in the depths of the consciences of individual souls, the order of every man with God, the order of every human relationship in the harmony of com-munity sentiments, in justice, concord, charity, peace. Prophetic Moment The Holy Year should be a kind of prophetic moment, Messianic awakening, Christian maturity of civilization, which sometimes had its ideal intuition in the poetry of the world, even secular poetry. What does the ancient and well-known prophecy of Virgil say, for example?--you young people, fresh from school, will remember it: "Magnus ab integro saeculorum nascitur ordo" (Buc. IV); his wa~ alyrical inspiration; ours would like to be one of those conscious and ~ollective efforts which produce, in the Church and in the world, a step upwa(ds, a sign of Christian progress, a break through on the plane of humanity imbued with the life-bringing Spirit of the kingdom of God. Is ours a dream? An ideal, certainly, but it must not be an empty, unreal one. Difficult, certainly; and for us, men of little faith, a demand that is beyond our strength. To renew the spiritual and moral energies of the Church, and consequently, or concurrently, those of our society, is a" 961 962 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 courageous aspiration, which makes tangible to us, if nothing else, the necessity of a superior, extrinsic assistance, but near to us, accessible to us, a compassionate, affectionate assistance already marked out in a general plan of goodness and mercy. Such a plan that must needs exist, if it is true, as it is true, that mankind is called, freely but surely, to a destiny of salvation. What assistance? What can be the help that enables us to dare, to hope for the aims of the Holy Year? Who can obtain for us the marvelous result which, following the logical demands of the Council, we have proposed? Humble, Glorious Queen It is the Blessed Virgin, beloved sons, Holy Mary, the Mother of Christ the Savior, the Mother of the Church, our humble and glorious Queen. Here there opens in front of us a great theological panorama, char-acteristic of Catholic doctrine, in which we see how the divine plan of salvation, offered to the world by the one mediator between God and men, efficacious by His own power, Christ Jesus (see 1 Tim 2: 5; Heb 12:24), is carried out with human cooperation, marvelously associated with the divine work (see H. de Lubac, M~d. sur l'Egl., pp. 241 ft.). And what human cooperation has been chosen in the history of our Christian destinies, first in function, dignity and efficiency, not purely instrumental and physical, but as a predestined, though free and perfectly docile factor, if not that of Mary? (see Lumen gentium, 56). Here there is no end to what could be said about the Blessed Virgin; for us, after firmly grasping the doctrine that places her at the center of the redeeming plan, first and, in a certain sense, indispensable beside Christ our Savior, it will be enough to recall and affirm how the renewing outcome of the Holy Year will depend on the superlative assistance of the Blessed Virgin. We need her help, her intercession. We must put on our program a particular cult for the Virgin Mary, if we wish the historico-spiritual event for which we are preparing to reach its real purposes. Need of Marian Cult Now we will merely condense in a twofold recommendation the advantage of this Marian cult to which we entrust so many of our hopes. The first recommendation is a fundamental one: we must. know the Madonna better as the authentic and ideal model of redeemed humanity. Let us study this limpid creature, this Eve without sin, this daughter'of God, in whose innocent, stupendous perfection, the creative, original, intact thought of God is mirrored. Mary is human beauty, not only aesthetic, but essential, ontological, in synthesis with divine Love, with goodness and humility, with the spirituality and the clear-sightedness of the "Magnificat," She is the Virgin, the Mother in the purest and most genuine sense; shb is the Woman clothed with the sun (see Apoc 12:1 ), in beholding whom our Documents on" the Holy Year / 963 eyes must be dazzled, so often offended and blinded as they are by the profaned and profaning images of the pagan and licentious environment by which we are surrounded and almost attacked. Our Lady is the sublime "type" not only of the creature redeemed by Christ's merits, but also the "type" of humanity on its pilgrim way in faith. She is the figure of the Chur(h, as St. Ambrose calls her (In Lc. II, 7; P.L. 15, 1555); and St. Augustine presents her to catechumens: "Figuram in se sanctae Ecclesiae demonstrat" (De Symb. 1, P.L. 40, 661). If we have our eyes fixed on Mary, the blessed, we will be able to reconstitute in ourselves the line and the structure of the renewed Church. Pray to Mary And the second recommendation is ~ao less important: we must have confidence in. recourse to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. We must pray to her, invoke her. She is admirable in herself, she is lovable to us. As in the Gospel (see Jn 2:3 ff.), she intervenes with her divine Son, and obtains from Him miracles that the ordinary :course of events would not admit. She is kind, she is powerful. She knows human needs and sorrows~ We must renew our devotion to the Blessed Virgin (see Lumen gentium, 67), if we wish to obtain the Holy Spirit and be sincere followers of Christ Jesus. May her faith (Lk 1:45) lead us to the reality of the gospel and help us to celebrate properly the coming Holy Year. With our Apostolic Blessing. LETTER TO HOLY YEAR COMMITTEE (MAY 31, 1973) To His Eminence Cardinal Maximilien de Furstenberg President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year Lord Cardinal, As the official beginning of that vast movement of spiritual renewal, which will have its climax in Rome in 1975, .is on Sunday 10 June, the solemnity of Pentecost, we wish to set forth briefly to you, Lord Cardinal, whom we have made the head of the Central Committee for the Holy Year what are the aims we have in mind with this initiative, what spirit we would like to see prevail in those who respond to our invitation, and what fruits we hope can be gathered with the grace of the Holy Spirit in whose name and in whose, light we are now setting out. As we declared from our very first announcement, on 9 May last [see the text in Review ]or Religious, 1973, pp. 728-30] with the Jubilee we propose the renewal of man b.nd his reconciliation with God, which take place above all in depth, in the interior sanctuary, where conscience is called to bring about its conversibn, or "metanoia," by means of faith and repentance (see Mk 1 : 15 ), and to aim at the fullness of charity. 964 / Review Ior. Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 God Himself,. infinitely merciful, after redeeming the world by means of Jesus Christ His Son, calls all men, none excluded, to pa.rticip.ate in the fruits of redemption (see 1 Tim 2:4) and intervenes with His Holy Spirit to operate salvation in them (see Rom 8:10 ft.). Strengthening the Bonds of Faith and Charity The Church is convinced that only from this interior operation can be derived also the reconciliation between men, as the social dimension embrace all sectors and levels of life, in relations between individuals, families, groups, categories, nations; to become, as far as is possible for man's frailty and the imperfection of earthly institutions, a ferment of peace and universal unity. She undertakes, therefore, to bring it about that the force of the redemp-tion wrought by Christ should strengthen in the faithful, in dioceses, in parishes, in religious communities and in other centers of Christian life and apostolate, as well as in the Churches separated from us up to now, the bonds of faith and charity in the Blood of Christ (see Col 1:20). The Pentecost of grace will thus be able to become also the Pentecost of the new brotherhood. This is the spirit we hope to see flourish in the whole celebration of the Holy Year. Therefore we trust that the value of penitential practices will be redis-covered, as a sign and way of grace, as a commitment for the deep renewal which receives its full efficacy in the sacrament of penance, to be used and administered according to the provisions of the Church, for resumption by the individual and the community of progress along the way of salvation (see Acts 16:17). It seems to us that the expression, the occasion, and, as it were, the synthesis of these practices, which will have their completion in the celebra-tion of the Holy Eucharist, can be the pilgrimage which in the authentic tradition of Christian ascetism has always been 'carried out for reasons of piety and expiation. Today, too, it can be inspired by these motives, both when it takes place in forms more similar to those of the ancient pilgrims to Rome, and when it uses the modern means of communication. Need for Charity It is necessary, however, that the pilgrimage should be accompanied not only by prayer and penance but also by the exercise of brotherly charity, which is a clear demonstration of love of God (see 1 Jn 4:20,21; 3:14), and must be expressed, by the individual faithful, their associations, and ecclesial communities and institutions, in spiritual and corporal works of mercy in favor of needier brothers. Thus the Holy Year qcill really widen the scope of the Church's charity and will portend a renewal and reconcilia-tion of universal dimensions. For these aims to be achieved more easily, let us express the wish that Documents on the Holy Year / 965 the practice of the pilgrimage will be carried out in all the local churches, in cathedrals and sanctuaries, diocesan and national, as intermediate stages converging at last, in 1975, in Rome, the visible center of the universal Church. Here the representatives of the local churches will conclude the way of renewal and reconciliation, venerate the tombs of the Apostles, renew their adhesion to the Church of Peter, and we, God willing, will have the joy of receiving them with open arms and together with them we will bear witness of the unity of the Church in faith and charity. It is our ardent desire that in this march towards the "sources of salva-tion" (see Is 12:3) our sons fully united to the Church of Peter will be joined, in the forms possible for them, also by the other followers of Christ and all those who, along different and apparently distant ways, are seeking the one God with upright conscience .and goodwill (see Acts 17:27). The concrete programs of the pilgrimage and other practices aimed at fostering renewal and reconciliation will certainly be indicated by the Episcopal Conferences for the local churches, taking into account both the outlook and customs of the places, and the real purposes of the Holy Year which we have just outlined. On our side we ask pilgrims, after having prayed according to our inten-tions and to those of the whole episcopal college, to take part, locally, in. a solemn community function, or to make a stop to reflect before the Lord, ending it with the recitation or singing of the Our Father and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgin. Gift of Indulgence As if in response to these simple and sincere manifestations by means of which the faithful, in the local churches, will carry out a real conversion and profess that they wish to remain and become stronger in charity towards God and towards their brothers, we, as the humble minister of Christ the Redeemer, will grant, in the due forms, the gift of the Indulgence. Also those sons of ours who, not being able to take part in the pilgrimage because they are prevented by illness or some other serious cause, join in it spir-itually with the offering of their prayers and their suffering, will benefit from this gift. With the Holy Year the Church, exercising the "ministry of reconcilia-tion" (see 2 Cor 5:18), offers privileged opportunities, ~pecial appeals so that all those reached by her word and, even more, as is our wish and our most ardent prayer, by the inner and ineffable touch of grace, may partic-ipate in Christian joy, the fruit of the salvific virtues of the Redeemer. To Refine Spirits We conclude this letter with the expression of the hopes we place in the celebration of the coming Holy Year. They are, we repeat, renewal and reconciliation as interior facts and as implementations of unity, brotherhood, 966 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and peace, radiating from spirits renewed and reconciled in Christ, throughout the whole Church, and towards the whole human society, on the ways of charity, the fruit of which is justice, goodness, mutual forgive-ness, the gift of oneself and of one's property for one's brothers. In a word we hope and trust that a renewed Christian sense of life will refine spirits and spread abundantly in the world, for common salvation. This, Lord Cardinal, is what we wished to let you know on this eve of an important period of the history of the Church in our days, which will be symbolized, when the time comes, by the opening of the Holy Door. We beg you to communicate it to our Brothers in the Episcopate, while we bless you and all those whom our appeal reaches with the most ample outpouring of our heart, the heart of a father and of the humble servant of the servants of God. From the Vatican Apostolic Palace, 31 May 1973, Feast of the Ascen-sion of Our Lord, the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI RENEWAL AND RECONCILIATION (JUNE 6, 1973) As you know, Sunday next, 10 June, is the feast of Pentecost, the feast that commemorates and aims at renewing the descent of the Holy Spirit, the animator, sanctifier, unifier of the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ. And as you likewise know, this forthcoming solemnity will mark the beginning, in the local churches, that is, in the ecclesial communities each presided over by its own bishop, of that religious event, or rather that spiritual movement which we call "Holy Year," followed by the celebration prol~r in. the third quarter of our century, in 1975. You will hear more about it again, a great deal, everywhere. Prepare to understand it, to live it, and specifically in its general purposes. They are a renewal of Christian life such as is demanded and must be possible in the deep and stormy process of the metamorphosis of our times, and a reconciliation of minds and things at which we think we must aim if. we wish to reconstitute in us and outside us that superior order, that "kingdom of God," on which the present and future destinies of humanity depend. Renewal and reconcilia-tion: it seems to us that these must be the logical and general consequences, in the history of the Church and of mankind, of the Council, springing like a river of salvation and civilization from its generating source. Why from Pentecost? Why does this fact start from Pentecost? Not only because this beautiful feast, which we can define as the historical birth of the Church, offers a p~'opitious, inspiring,occasion, but above all because we hope, we beseech, that the Holy Spirit, whose mysterious and ,sensible mission we celebrate at Pentecost, will be the principal Operator of the fruits desired from the Documents on the Holy Year / 967' Holy Year. This, too, will be one of the most important and fruitful themes of spirituality proper to the Holy Year: the Christology and particularly the Ecclesiology of the Council must be succeeded by a new study and a new cult of the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the Council. Let us hope that the Lord will help us to be dis-ciples and teachers of this successive school of his: Jesus, leaving the visible scene of this world, left two factors to carry out his work of salvation in the world: his Apostles and his Spirit (see Congar, Esquisses du mystOre de l'Eglise, p. 129 ft.). We do not wish to enter this magnificent theological field now. For the elementary purposes of this brief preparatory sermon it is enough for us to point out, in the first place, that the action of the Spirit, in the ordinary economy of the divine plan, is carried out in our spirits in respect for our freedom, in fact, with our very cooperation, if only as the condition of divine action in us. We must at least open the window to the entrance of the breath and the light of the Spirit. Let us say a word about this opening, this availability of ours to the mysterious action of the Spirit. Let us ask ourselves what the psychological and moral states of our souls must be, in order that they may receive the "dulcis Hospes animae." This would be enough to weave interminable treatises of spiritual, ascetic, and mystical life. Let us now reduce these states to two only, at least for the sake of being easily remembered, making them correspond to the field preferred by the action of the Paraclete, that is, the Holy Spirit who becomes our assistant, consoler, advocate. Man's Consent'Required The first field is man's "heart." It is true that the. action of grace may leave out of °consideration the subjective correspondence of the one who receives it (a child, for example, a sick person, a dying man), but normally man's .conscience must be in a state of consent, at least immediately after the impulse of the supernatural action of grace. The Holy Spirit has his favorite cell in the human being, the heart (see Rom 5:5). It would take too long to explain what the word "heart" means in Biblical language. Let us be content now to describe the heart as the intimate center, free, deep, personal, of our spiritual life. Anyone who does not have a spiritual life of his own lacks the ordinary capacity to receive .the Holy Spirit, to listen to His soft, sweet voice,, to experience His inspirations, to enjoy His charisms. The diagnosis of modern man leads us to see in him an extroverted being who lives a great deal outside himself and little in himself, like an instrument that is more receptive to the language of the senses and less to that of thought and conscience. The practical conclusion at once exhorts us to praise of silence, not of unconscious, idle, and mute silence, but the silence that subdues noises and exterior clamor and which is able to listen: to listen in depth to the voices, the sincere voices, of conscience 968 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and to those springing up in the concentration of prayer, to the ineffable voices of contemplation. This is the first field of action of the Holy Spirit. It will be well for us to remember it. Flight trom True Communion ot Ecclesiai Charity And what is the other? The other is "communio," that is, the society of brothers united by faith and charity.in 9ne divine-human organism, the mystical Body of Christ. It is the Church. It is adherence to that mystical Body, animated by the Holy Spirit, who has, in the community of the faithful, hierarchically united, authentically assembled in the name and the authority of the Apostles, his Pentecostal upper room. So we might well consider whether certain ways of seeking the Spirit which prefer to isolate themselves in order to escape both from the directive ministry of the Church and from the impersonal crowd of unknown brethren are on the right path. What Spirit could a selfish communion meet, one that arises from a flight from the true communion of ecclesial charity? What experiences, what charisms could make up for the absence of unity, the supreme encounter with God? And so the program of the Holy Year, inauguated on the feast of the Holy Spirit, is at once placed on the right way: both the way of spiritual life, where He, the Gift of Love, inhabits and awakens and forms and sanctifies our individual personality; and the way of the society of the "saints," that is, the Church of the faithful where salvation is a continual rejoicing for everyone. May our Apostolic Blessing, Sons and Brothers, direct you and follow you along the right way. PROGRESS IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE (JUNE 13, 1973) ¯ The announcement about the anticipated beginning of the Jubilee celebra-tions which will have their climax in 1975, which you have all certainly heard of, re-echoing in all the dioceses, in the local churches, jolts our conscience in some way, in its religious and moral sensibility, and confronts it with a question ever recurring on the lips of the Church: How is your spiritual life progressing? In a word, this announcement enters the inner recesses of our personality, obliging it to reflect, to examine our conscience on some of its expressions which, like it or not, we all judge fundamental in the very definition of our personality; that is, we feel obliged to answer questions such as the following: Am I one who really believes in religion? Do I profess it, practice it, and how? Do I perceive the relationship between adherence to my religious "creed" and the ideal and practical direction of nay life? Do I perceive the connection between religious life and moral life? If we understand this critical necessity, one of the aims of the Holy Year is already attained: it appears to us first and foremost as one of the pedagogical means with which the Church educates and guides herself---a Documents on the Holy Year / 969 "shock," as is said today, by means of which she aims at a goal considered important and claiming particular interest. Religious Purpose of the Holy Year So it is. For ~he present let us dwell on the first purpose which is cer-tainly in the intention of the Church in promoting the Holy Year: the religious purpose. ¯ We could raise an easy objection, namely, is it necessary to commit the Catholic world and, indirectly at least, also the secular world, to the religious issue? Is there not a continuous and normal effort of the Church already in progress in favor of religion? Did not the Council suffice to reaffirm religion's right of presence in our times? And does not the Church exhort us every day, every Sunday, every feast, to celebrate some religious mystery? What more is wanted? The answer is not a difficult one. Religion is a thing that, in itself, can never be satisfied with its understanding, its profession, its discovery. It puts man in contact with such riches of truth and life that it does indeed quench all our thirst, but does not extinguish it: ions vincit sitientem; on the contrary it stimulates it for other conquests. Furthermore it happens, and this is what concerns us more here, that our attitude towards the goods of the spirit is not constant; we are changeable, we are fragile. It is this phen-omenon of the decadence of religious life, always possible on the part of man, that demands, historically, new interventions on each occasion, more suitable and more effective ones, so that human faithfulness may not be exhausted. The Need of Prayer The history of religious .life is full of these unhappy vicissitudes, just as it is full of vigorous revivals and generous recoveries. Now we all know, more or less, the formidable and systematic attack mounted against religion, our own in the first place, since it is socially structured and organically precise in its doctrine and its rites, in these times of ours in which there is a tendency to equate the secularization of society with its progress and to evolve a humanism that is radically atheist. In a certain sense, which unfortunately is not restricted to negligible or marginal manifestations, the mentality of the new lay generations has to start from the very threshold of religious life. The ministry of the faith must begin again from elementary initiation into the simplest religious expressions. By way of example, we would like to propose a first.question: Do we know how to pray? We are not casting doubt, with this aggressive question, on the validity, the efficacy, the success of the liturgical reform (of which we will be able to speak on another occasion). We mean rather to ask if the man of today, a disciple ofour "consumer" society, as is said," which is engrossed in the pursuit and enjoyment of temporal goods and imbued 970 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with the proud conviction, that it can solve everything .by itself,-without any recourse to God, or any transcendent conception of the sensible and ratio-nalist world, if this man is still able to utter in his heart any sincere, even though informal, but deep and personal conversation with God. It would be very interesting if, in the light of the Holy Year, there should spring to the lips of modern men the frank request, addressed to Christ the Master by His disciples one day: "Teach us to pray!" (Lk 11:11). That is, it would be desirable to bring to life again in people the sense, the con-cept, the need of religion; and at the same time the hope, the certainty, let us say even more, the experience of speaking tothe God of the universe; and at the same time the surprise, too, of enjoying the capacity of being able to address Him with the name, the most authentic title of His kindness and our dignity; the title of Father. Such a result would be a kind of revision of all our deviations and aberrations; it would be the rebirth of love and hope in the world. It would be the rediscovery of the reason for calling the Church "mother" (see St. Cyprian, De unitate Ecclesiae, VI, P.L. 4, 591); it would be the new insertion of salvation in the conscience and the history of the world. Our.Father! Amen. With our Apostolic Blessing. INTERIORITY AND THE HOLY YEAR (JUNE 20, 1973) Let us speak again of the Holy Year which began in the local churches on the feast of Pentecost. We will speak of it again because we would like to see, round this "Holy Year" formula, as we have already said, not only the fulfillment, but the development of a historic moment in the spiritual life of the Church, not just an event, but a religious movement. This con-ception seems to us, in the first place, in conformity with the motive of this celebration: renewal and reconciliation, aimed at stamping a permanent and general renewal on the religious and moral conscience of our times, inside and, if possible, outside the Catholic Church. In the second place, this view of the Holy Year, it seems to us, intends to reflect in the reality of thought and morals the great plan of the Council,. and prevent its salutary teaching from being relegated to the archives as voices of the past, but rather that they should operate in a masterly way in the actual life of the present and the future generation. It must be a school that becomes life. Call for New Inspiration In the third place, we wish to give importance and extension to this extraordinary religious expression, which we call the Holy Year, because the historical and social circumstances of our times are so heavy and over-powering with regard to our faith and its consequent existential logic that a necessity of seriousness, incisiveness, and strength must, it seems to us, sustain the "movement" of the Holy Year right from the beginning. Either Documents on the Holy Year / 971 it will win recognition as a general, serious, and united effortl and theret~ore a really renewing one, or it will at once be extinguished and exhausted .as a sterile attempt; good and meritorious perhaps, but in practice shortlived and ineffective. At this point some preliminary observations arise which it is well to keep in mind right now. The doubt, or rather the fear, may arise in some people that the Holy.Year movement will oppose so many other spiritual and pastoral movements, the programs of which are already tested by long and clear experience, or already approved by the authority of the Church, or recognized as legitimate and free expressions of the vitality of the People of God. No, we answer: the Holy Year does not intend to suspend, choke, and sweep away the variety and riches of the authentic manifestations already going on in the ecclesial world. The Holy Year would rather imbue them with new energy, and at the most, if possible, connect them in some way with its own general program, which calls in this case rather for the acceptance of a deep, new inspiration than for a specific and concrete ad-herence to precise particular frameworks. Not Triuml~halism Others may think that it is desired to celebrate the Holy Year in a tri-umphalistic style, with trumpetings and overwhelming exterior events, giving the exterior aspect of the movement derived from it an importance greater than other aspects of religious and Catholic life, for which, however, it is necessary to claim an importance that cannot be renounced, perhaps even a superior importance. On this point, which can constitute a strong objec-tion to the celebration of the Holy Year, we wish to invite the good to a twofold reflection. It is indeed possible, please God, that the Holy Year will have the support of the people, flocking crowds, the spectacular ap-pearance of multitudes. It is an ecclesial, universal fact; at some moments it reflects the catholic character of vocation to the gospel. It is humanity, in its immense extension, that we make the object of our invitation and our interest; also and above all on this occasion we wish to give to the heart of the Church the dimensions of the world! Should we protest, then, if the phenomenon takes on excep-tional quantitative forms and proportions? Is itnot the mystery of the unity of the Church, always manifested in the multiplicity of her univoca| and expanded fiches? We will all enjoy it. if the Lord bestows on us the grace of seeing "the spaces of charity" so widened (see St. Augustine, Sermo 69; P.L. 38, 440-441). But, in the second place, let us say at once that this spectacular, and perhaps touristic result, is not specifically the aim of the Holy Year. If a purpose of universal communion cannot but exist in the interttions of an affirmation that concerns the whole Church in her essential properties of unity and catholicity, it is not, however, the primary one as effect in time, 972 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 nor as a value in itself, because it presupposes and demands the attainment of another prior aim: the conversion of hearts, the interior renewal of spirits, the personal adherence of consciences. First the individual, conscious and aware; then the crowd. Interior Conversion We.would like this first purpose of the Holy Year to be given supreme importance. We must aim first and foremost at an interior renewal, a con-version of personal sentiments, liberation, from conventional imitation of others, revision of our outlook, deploring, more than anything else, our shortcomings before God, and towards the society of men our brothers, and with regard to the concept that everyone must have of himself, as a son of God, as a Christian, as a member of the Church. It is a new philosophy of life, if we may say so, that must be formed in every member of the mystical Body of Christ; everyone of us is invited to rectify his way of think-ing, feeling, and acting with regard to the,ideal model of the follower of Christ, while being a loyal and hard-working citizen of contemporary civil society. This great conception of the Holy Year--to give Christian life an authentic expression, consistent, interior, full, capable of "renewing the face of the earth" in the Spirit of Christ --- must be clearly present in our minds, with one very important immediate consequence: the accomplishment of this proiect begins at once and takes place in the personal conscience of each of us. We would like this personal and interior aspect of the great spiritual enterprise, now begun, to head all programs. Each one of us must feel called upon to work out for himself and in himself the religious, psychological, moral, and operative renewal which the Holy Year aims at achieving. Personal Examination With this first practical consequence: we must all verify, or carry out the introspective examination about the main line of our life, that is, about the free and responsible choice of our own vocation, our own mission, our own definition, as a man and as a Christian. A vital examination! And a second consequence, far easier, but far more insistent: it is necessary to resume the practice of good, of honesty, seeking what is better in little things, that is, in the sequence of our ordinary actions, where our defects lie in wait for us at every moment, sometimes disastrously; and where, on the contrary, integrity of action can be easily perfected, if we remember the teaching of the Lord Jesus: "He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much" (Lk 16:10). This is something to begin with immediately, for everyone; with our Apostolic Blessing. Documents concerning Religious Men The first of the two documents printed below is the address of the Holy Father on May 25, 1973, to superiors of religious orders who were taking part in the first meet-ing planned by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes to take place in Rome. The second document is a letter sent by the Pope to the Franciscan Minister General on the occasion of the General Chapter of the Friars Minor held in Madrid, Spain. TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS (MAY 25, 1973) Venerable Brothers and beloved Sons, We cordially salute you who, under the aegis of the Sacred Congrc, gation for Religious and Secular Institutes and of its worthy Cardinal PrefeCt,. are engaged in a reunion to discuss questions of no mean weight pertainin~,~[o " a life wholly consecrated to God~ Seeing you here, the superiors of so many religious families whose members are spread throughout the whole world, and having in mind your works which also extend tO every part of the world, we have to regard this meeting of yours and our gathering together here now as an event of considerable ecclesial importance. Two years ago, as you well know, we issued an apostolic exhortation beginning with the words "Evan.gelica testificatio" (Evangelical Witness), in which we reminded the religious institutes how their life must be r~newed in accordance with the directives of Vatican Council II. Now, as a confirma-tion and follow-up of that document, we wish to offer some points which it seems to us desirable to recommend, moved as we are by our paternal solicitude for these same institutes of yours. The Second Vatican Council proclaimed the charismatic nature of the religious life, declaring that the evangelical counsels are "a divine gift, which the Church received from our Lord" (Dogm. Const. Lumen gentium, 973 97'4 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 43). By this gift or charism, from its very nature, the religious "are joined in a special manner to the Church and its mystery" (ibid., 44). Whence it follows that, by reason of this intimate and very close bond, they are dependent upon ~he authority of the Church which gives authentic approval to their rules, receives the vows of those who make profession, raises that profession to the dignity of canonical status (ibid., 45) and renders the religious themselves participants in the carrying out of its salvific mission. For the steps taken by religious towards holiness are of service to all inert for their spiritual profit: "Let them know that, when the gift of themselves is accepted by the Church, they themselves are also committed to the service of the Church" (Perfectae caritatis, 5). The Holy Spirit who bestows the charisms and is at the same time the life-spring of the Church brings about the fitting mutual accord between the charismatic inspiration and the juridical structure of the Church, the more necessary because, as Vatican Council II lays down, pastors have "to give judgment as to the genuine nature and due exercise of the charisms, not indeed that they are to extinguish the Spirit but that they are to test all and retain what is good (see 1 Thess 5:12,19,21 ; A postolicam actuositatem, 3). In such a gathering as this it gives us pleasure to say again that the Church cannot do without religious, that is to say, without those witnesses of the love which Christ bore towards men, a love which far transcends nature, nor can the world be deprived of this light without loss to itself (see Evangelica testificatio, 3). For that same reason the Church itself bears witness to its high esteem for them, surrounds them with unfailing love, and does not fail to be at their side "to guide them along the true path" (see Ps 26:11). Church Expects Much But the Church expects much of the religious; through them must be "increased its fair perfection and holiness which only the imitation of Christ and mystical union with Him can give" (see Alloc. to the Conciliar Fathers, Sept. 29, 1965; AAS, 55, 1963, p. 851). The Church, through the magisterium of the Ecumenical Council, its most weighty authority, sum7 moned the religious to renewal, especially spiritual renewal. We know that not a few have striven, and are still striving, to respond to this high expectation; but it has to be said that some. have not paid heed ~to this clarion call or have not interpreted it correctly. Permit us, therefore, to remind you earnestly of the duty there is to effect the aforesaid renewal "to which priority is to be given also in promoting the external works of the apostolate" (Perfectae caritatis, 2e). From the founts of baptismal grace and of the particular charism which belongs to each of your institutes, fresh clear streams must be drawn where-by a life consecrated to-God may become possessed of an abundance of needed strength. Documents concerning Religious Men / 975 Jubilee Year But now we would pass on to a special ecclesial happening which we believe will be of particular interest also to the religious. This is the universal Jubilee which, as you are well aware, we have proclaimed, to be celebrated first in the local churches and then in the city of Rome. Since its intended object is interior renewal, also called conversion, metanoia (change of mind) or penance~ the Church depends much on the pastoral help of the religiouff. So that it will be yours, dear superiors general, to see to it that the families of which you are the heads help on and foster the operation of the Jubilee, especially by co-operating with the sacred hierarchy, in order that this renewal of souls may be effected, and that not only each one's private life but public morals too will be brought into line with Christian precepts. The religious themselves should take this God-given opportunity to think over their curriculum and way of life. That is to say, they should feel moved to compare their actual mode of life with .what is asked of them by Vatican Council II and by the apostolic exhortation Evangelica testi~catio, in order to see whether they are meeting the needs of today and are making our Savior as it were manifestly present within the fellowship of mankind. But in order that this testimony of the religious may be truly efficacious and grow in extent, the following must be noted, or rather recalled to mind. We do not cease to extol the power and necessity of prayer without which we cannot savor the intimate and true knowledge of God (see Ev. test., 43) nor find the strength to pursue the path of perfection. As the Council teaches, the importance and usefulness of prayer made in common are rightly and deservedly to be publicized. But besides this, private prayer must also be cultivated, for by this each one's spiritual vigor is maintained and increased, and by it, too, souls are soundly prepared for prayer in com-mon, especially for liturgical prayer, and are able to obtain nourishment and growth from the same. Faitldulness 1o Prayer It can well be observed of those religious whose spirituallife is flourish-ing and fruitful for others that they are "praying" religious; whereas of those who are wearied of that life or pitifully abandon the religious state, that they are almost always sluggish in the mat(er of praying. For this reason it is abundantly clear that "faithfulness to prayer or abandonment to the same are the test of the vitality or decadence of religious life" (Ev. test., 42). Christ has called you to a more perfect following of Himself and so to the carrying Of the cross, for this latter cannot be separated from your state of life. But let this cross be not only a singular instrument for the purifica-tion of the soul and a special form of apostolate; let it also be a manifest proof of love, not something oppressive but rather uplifting. "Is there not 976 / Review for Religious, liolume 32, 1973/5 a mysterious relation between renunciation and joy . between discipline and spiritual freedom?" (Ev. test., 29). Lastly, the common life is one of the more powerful elements in the renewal of religious life. Those truly very beautiful passages in no. 15 of the decree Perfectae caritatis should be re-read, read indeed again and again and with ever-renewed appreciation. In them are to be found not mere precepts of law regarding the common life, but an admirable exposition of its theological, spiritual, ecclesial, apostolic and human aspects~ There-fore there is laid upon you, beloved sons, no slight obligation to do all ' possible in order to ensure that such conditions of life are established in your houses as are "calculated to foster the spiritual advancement of each of the community" (Ev. test., 39). This truly evangelical brotherhood is also a firm safeguard for the members, especially for those who may be discouraged, passing through a crisis, suffering from sickness or old age. Which Shall Survive? Whilst today so many things are being called into question, the religious life, too, is made the subject of not a few difficulties, as you yourselves are discovering day by day. Thus there are those who anxiously seek to know how religious life is likely to shape in the years to come, whether its destiny will prove to be for better or for worse. In this regard many of you are concerned because of the fewness or lack of candidates, or because of the regrettable desertions from amongst your members. But this future destiny lies in the fidelity with which each institute follows out its vocation, that is to say, in the extent to which it. expresses in its conduct of life th~ consecration which it has vowed to God. It is above all the example of a way.of life enhanced by spiritual joy and a resolute will to be at the service of God and the brethren, which attracts candidates to religious life in our times. For the youth of today, when they give themselves to God, aim for the most part "to give all for all" (see Imitation of Christ III, 37, 5); there-fore they more readily join those institutes in which there thrives and flourishes that "kind of virginal and poverty-stricken life which Christ our Lord chose for Himself and which his Virgin Mother embraced" (dogm. constitution Lumen gentium, 46). Words of Augustine We may, then, conclude this paternal discourse with some words of St. Augustine who was himself a most outstanding promoter and eulogizer of religious life: "We exhort you in the Lord, brethren, to hold safe to your purpose and to persevere to the end; and if holy Mother Church desires some work of you, do not grasp it with over-eager elation nor yet reject it through delusive sloth; but be obedient to God with meekness of heart, with mildness bearing him who rules you, who guides the mind in Documents concerning Religious Men / 977 judgment, who teaches the meek his ways" (Ps 24:9; Ex 48, 2; PL 33, 188). Finally, with the fervent wish that this reunion of yours may have a prosperous and salutary outcome, we willingly impart to you and those committed to your care the Apostolic Blessing as a witness of our most sure affection. FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY (MAY 26, 1973) To Our beloved Son CONSTANTINE KOSER Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor In as much as the general chapter of the Order of Friars Minor will soon take place in Madrid, we believe it is only fitting for us to have our voice reach that particular assembly and each individual member of the same Franciscan family through this letter of ours, by which we desire to encourage, exhort, and guide you. This meeting is "a sort of general council, which gathers from every part of the world under one rule of life (see Th. of Celano, Vita secunda shncti Francisci, no. 192; Analecta ]ranciscana, 1926; 941, p. 240). Consequently it is an event which has a great influence and effect on the very life of an organization so widely diffused. By rights then we wish you to be the object of that "concern for all the churches" (see 2 Cor 11:28) which weighs upon our shoulders. Directives Accepted We do not believe it is necessary to repeat all that the Second Vatican Council providentially and authoritatively taught on the renewal of the religious life, nor to inculcate once again what we ourselves, following the Council, set forth in our apostolic exhortation entitled Evangelica Testi]icatio. For we are convinced that you have accepted all those directives in a spirit of obedience and have made every effort up to the present time to make them a part of your way of life. With this in mind we would like to reiterate and emphasize that which we told the members of the last general chapter held in Assisi, onamely, that the spread of your Order throughout the world, the model of its evangelical life, and its generously undertaken apostolate are all a great honor for the Church (see AAS, 59, p. 782). However, we would like to discuss this one point with you: just what is the mission, what is the vocation of your religious family in this age of ours? We ask this question so that we can lead you along to that answer which the Church expects of you. Right now, that is, in these turbulent times of ours, the Church most earnestly desires and zealously strives to have religious institutes "grow and prosper according to the spirit of their foun-ders" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). As tradition says once happened, may 9711 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 St. Francis, your founding father, be present as it were from the very beginning of your meetings and deliberations, standing at the door of the chapter hall and blessing every and all the members: look upon him! (see S. Bonaventure, Legenda maior s. Francisci, IV, 10; Analecta ]ranciscana op. mem., p. 576). Following Christ What Holy Mother the Church asks of you--as she always has done in the past--is contained in this one phrase: "Follow in the footsteps of Christ" (1 Pt 2:21). Does not the wonderful teaching and example which St. Francis offers you consist precisely in this following of Christ? For, "casting off every trace of special honor and vanity" (see Th. of Celano, op. mem., n. 144, p. 231), he gave himself completely to Christ, and on Mount Alverno he reached the culmination, so to speak, of that reality, so much so that he could say with the Apostle Paul: "Far be it from me to boast in anything except in the cross of Christ through whom the world has been crucified to me and I to the world" (Gal 6:14). As a result, "look carefully, and act according to the model shown to you on the mountain" (Ex 25:40). The more faithful image of the Savior--virgin, poor, obedient --your life becomes, the more it will testify and impart to souls the salva-tion obtained by him. As usually happens in the ordinary course of events, this fundamental truth is clouded over at times because of different factors. You know from your own experience and from the history of your Order which embraces a number of centuries that, as often as the Franciscan way of life departs from this path, great harm comes out of that which was supposed to be a source of great edification (see S. Bonaventure, Opusc. XIX, Epist. 2, n. 1; Opera omnia, Ad Claras Aquas, VIII, p. 470). Nevertheless, what St. Bonaventure says in general--namely that truth can be temporarily down-trodden, but must necessarily rise up again (see Commentar. in Evang. Luc. 21, n. 23: Opera omnia, ibid., VII, p. 528)---can also be happily applied to your own internal events and accomplishments. It is greatly to be hoped, therefore, that this particular principle may be fully effective even at this time as far as is necessary and may work both in your attitude and way of life, as well as your statements and plans, and in the renewal of your legislation. Loyalty to Church But fidelity in maintaining this following of Christ demands another kind of faithfulness: that toward the Church. Between the two there is such a relationship that the one can be known from the other. For this reason St. Francis "wholly and entirely of the Catholic faith" directed his brothers to honor the venerable footprints of the Holy Roman Church, which, in spite of every intervening difficulty,, safeguarded the bonds of charity and peace Documents.concerning Religious Men / 979 among them (see Th. of Celano, op, mere., nn. 8,and 24, pp. 135 and 145). Thus it happened that the Franciscan way of life and °work became, as it were, a river which quickened the City,,of God (Ps 45:5): suffice it to mention fhose intelligently devised plans, the evangelization of the populace, the social works and those of charity, the attractive force which goes beyond the boundaries of your own institute. Therefore it is this .feeling for and service of the Church which is your primitive, original vocation. It would be spoiled and lost if you were to consider it a mere event of a past age. On the contrary, it must always be "in action"; that is right now you must obey God, '"ivho is calling you" (1 Thess 5:24). You must undertake the tasks and responsibilities which the Church is now asking of you. Defending the Gospel At this very time great courage is demanded, especially in regard to the teaching of the truth. Are there not people here and there who "want to change the_gospel of Christ?" (Gal 1:7). In the same way, under the pressure of many individuals in our contemporary society, people get-the idea that obedience to the true faith and concern for moral behavior are no longer of profit for the advancement of the community of the Church, ~but ratl~er are an obstacle to freedom--which they understand in the wrong way. In as much as this is the way things are going, every Friar Minor should--as we firmly trust---consider himself as "assigned to the defense of the gospel" (see Phil 1:16). Let no one from your religious family allow himself to be entangled by the allurements of popularity ~which is so ephemeral and shallow; let no one out of fear give into the temptation, which is becoming the mode today, of conforming himself to the world. But if all who have been reborn through baptism "are obliged to profess before men the faith they have received from God through the Church" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 11 ), this obligation binds you so much more, because St. Francis gave you this common command to be implemented: "Obey the word of the Son of God . for He has sent you into the whole world that you might give witness to His teaching through your words and works" (Epistula ad Capitulum: Opuscula; Ad Claras Aquas, 1904, p. 100). Spread Peace May your zeal for the spread of the "gospel of peace" (Eph 6:15) be inflamed; something which will not happen unless "the truth of the Gospel remains among you" (Gal 2, 5). Certainly you are convinced that this good news of the gospel will be spread "not . . . in words alone, but in fullness and strength and the Holy Spirit" (see 1 Thess 1:5). For this reason, you must contemplate the outstanding examples of your forefathers and must be present in the world with all of that gentleness and kindness which will Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 make the intimate relationship between Christ and the Church stand out clearly, for it is this relation which applies and continues and renders visible the very work of the Savior. People from your own ranks should be at the disposal of this Church community; endowed with fitting qualities of soul and intellect, they should by their zeal and example bring the people to follow Christ the Poor Man, and they ought to do. this with complete trust in the Holy Spirit. People do not ask of you that you harmonize with the world in an equivocal fashion; for they are demanding that you show forth to them the sublimity of your own way of life, so that by looking upon it they may begin to have qualms about their own lives and may seek the city to come (see Heb 13: 14). Even at this time men are searching their souls for some-thing absolute which transcends nature; even at this time they can be led on to God by all created realities which have been reconciled through Christ (see Heb 1:19 ff.) and which speak of God. St. Francis gave your own spirituality this special mark and characteristic: it was to show that the world could be transformed in such a way that work could be called ' a grace and death a sister. Therefore, as you preach the gospel, give special priority to the teaching which is contained in the sermon on the Beatitudes, and according to which poverty is turned into riches, weeping into joy, and lowliness int~ public acclaim (Lk 6:20-3). Even though human weakness and malice continue to exist, you must affirm and promote the good, in order that in all cases and individuals it may occupy the first place, in order that the hope of the future life, which is the special characteristic of Christ's followers, may shine forth (see 1 Thess 4:13). Be therefore the guardians of this hope in the world! Dear Friars Minor! "We have spoken to you as sons; be open and joyful yourselves" (see 2 Cor 6:13)! Listen willingly to what the Church expects of you; fulfill willingly her wishes according to the nature of your vocation; sanctify yourselves and work for the extension of the king-dom of God to all the lands of the earth and for its firm establishment in the hearts of all men (see Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). We pray God very earnestly that He may be graciously present and near your general chapter and that it may have a successful outcome. To you therefore, Beloved Son, and to all the members of your Order, we affectionately impart our Apostolic Blessing as a testimony of our paternal regard. From the Vatican, 26 May 1973, in the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI The Eucharistic Prayers Sacred Congregation [or Divine Worship The following is an English translation of a letter of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship with regard to the Eucharistic Prayers. The translation is that of the weekly English language edition of Osservatore romano. 1. The reform of the sacred liturgy and especially the re-organization of the Roman Missal recently completed in accordance With the requireme.nts of Vatican Council 111 are intended above all to facilitate an intelligent, devout, and active participation in the Holy Eucharist on the part of the faithful.-~ A notable feature of this new Roman Missal, published with the authority of Paul VI, is undoubtedly the wealth of text from which a choice may often be made, whether in the case of the Readings from Holy Writ or in that of the chants, prayers, and acclamations on the part of the faithful, or again in regard to the "presidential" prayers, not indeed excluding the Eucharistic Prayer itself for which three new texts, in addition to the venerable traditional Roman Canon, have been brought into use? Variety of Texts in the Missal 2. The reason for providing this ample variety of texts and the purpose intended by the revision of the forms of prayer to be used are of a pastoral nature, namely in order to bring about both unity and variety of liturgical prayer. By making use of these texts as set forth in the Roman Missal, the 1See Vatican "Council II, the constitutio~ Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 48, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. 2See Paul VI, the aiaostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 217-22. 3Ibid., p. 219. 981 Review Jor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 various groups of the faithful who gather together to celebrate the Holy Eucharist feel that they form part of the one Church praying with one faith and one prayer, and at the same time they enjoy a timely ability, especially where the vernacular is used, of being able to proclaim in many ways the one same mystery of Christ, whilst they can the more easily lift up their hearts individually to God in prayer and thanksgiving4 and can participate in the celebration with great spiritual fruit. 3. For some years after its promulgation the new Roman Missal could not be completely introduced everywhere for celebration with the people, because the translation of it into the vernacular of. a great number of nations was an enormous work requiring quite a period of time? Moreover, the opportunity thus provided for increasing pastoral efficacy is oftentimes not appreciated nor, in arranging the Mass, is sufficient thought given to the common good of the congrega~tion.6 New Requests 4. Meanwhile a desire has arisen amongst not a few to adapt the Eucharistic celebration still further by the composition of new forms of prayer, including even new Eucharistic Prayers. They say that the choice provided by the present "presidential" prayers and the four Eucharistic Prayers in the existing "Ordo Missae" still does not fully meet the manifold requirements of the different groups, regions, and peoples. Therefore it was many times requested of this Sacred Congregation to approve, or grant the faculty of approving and bringing into use, new texts both of ordinary prayers and of Eucharistic Prayers .more in tune with the modern, way of thinking and of talking. Moreover, quite a number of authors of various languages and countries have published, during the last few years, Eucharistic Prayers composed by: themselves under the guise of studies; and it has frequently happened thak, notwithstanding what is laid down in Vatican Council II7 and episcopal pro-hibitions, some priests have made use of privately composed texts in their celebration Of Mass. 5. In view of all the foregoing, the Sacred Congregation, by mandate of the Supreme Pontiff and after consulting experts from various parts of the globe, gave careful study to the question of the composing of new 4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. ¯ ~With regard to the principles according to which the translations must be made, see the Commission for the Execution of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, "Instruction sur la traduction des textes liturgiques pour la c616bration avec le peuple," January 25 1969, Notitiae, 5 (1969), pp. 3-12. 6"Institutib generalis Missalis romani," no. 313. zSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 22, par. 3, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 106. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~3 Eucharistic Prayers and of giving to Episcopal Conferences the faculty of approving them, together with cognate questions and their outcome. The conclusions arrived at from this study were submitted to the members of this Sacred Congregation at a plenary session, to the judgement of the other Sacred Congregations concerned, and finally to the Supreme Pontiff. After mature consideration of the whole question, it did not seem advis-able at this juncture to grant to Episcopal Conferences the general faculty of bringing out or approving new Eucharistic Prayers. On the contrary, it has seemed more opportune to call attention to the pressing need of giving fuller instruction on the nature and reality of he Eucharistic Prayer? Seeing that this is the culminating point of the celebration, it must also be the culminating point, of an instruction in depth on the subject. It seems like-wise necessary that fuller, information should be given as to the possibilities of encouraging a full participation on the part of the~ faithful, offered to priests by the use of the current liturgical regulations and of the prayer-forms contained in the Roman Missal. Directives 6. Therefore the four Eucharistic Prayers contained in the revised Roman Missal remain in force, and it is not permitted to make .use of any other composed without the permission of the Apostolic See or without the approval of the same. Episcopal Conferences and individual bishops are earnestly begged to put pertinent arguments before their priests in order to bring them wisely to the observance of the same regulations as laid down by the Roman Church, to the benefit of the Church itself and in furtherance of the proper conducting of liturgical functions. .The Apostolic See, moved by the pastoral desire for unity, reserves to i~elf the right of determining a matter of such great importance as the regulations for the Eucharistic Prayers. Within the unity of the Roman Rite it will not refuse to consider legitimate, requests; and petitions coming to it from Episcopal Conferences for the drawing up of some new Eucharistic Prayer in particular circumstances and introducing it into the liturgy will be given ~benevolent consideration; but in each case the Holy See will lay down the norms to be followed. 7. After making this decision known, it seems useful to offer some con-siderations which may render its meaning clearer and its execution easier. Of these, some have to do with the nature and importance of the Eucharistic Prayer in liturgical, and especially Roman, tradition; others concern the things that can be done to accommodate the celebration to each congrega-tion without in any way altering the text of the Eucharistic Prayer. sSee Cardinal Benno Gut, "Letter to the Presidence of Episcopal Conference," Janu-ary 2 1969, Notitiae, 4 (1969), pp. 146-8; "Indications pour faciliter la cat6ch~se des anaphores de la Messe," ibid., pp. 148-55. 9114 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 Nature o[ Eucharistic Prayer 8. The Eucharistic Prayer, which is of its very nature the "culminating point of the whole celebration," is a "prayer of thanksgiving and of sanc-tification" whose purpose is "that the whole congregation of the faithful may unite i[self with Christ in proclaiming the wondrous things of God and in offering the sacrifice.''9 This Prayer is offered by the ministering priest who is the intermediary translating both the voice of God addressed to the people, and the voice of the people lifting up the soul to God. It alone must be heard, while the congregation gathered to celebrate the sacred litur-gy remains devoutly silent. In this Prayer, over and above the catechetical.indications intended to highlight the particular characteristic of. any celebration, there supervenes the element of thanksgiving for the universal mystery of salvation or for some particular aspe.ct of this which, in accordance with the day, the feast, the season, or the rite, is being celebrated.1° For this reason, in order that those taking part in the Eucharist may the better render thanks to God and bless Him, already in the new Roman Missal "there has been an increase in the provision of Prefaces, either taken from the ancient tradition of the Roman Church or 'now composed for the first time, by means of which particular aspects of the mystery of salva-tion are brought out and more and richer motives for thanksgiving are offered."11 For the same reason, the priest presiding at the Eucharist enjoys the faculty of introducing the Eucharistic Prayer with a brief reminder12 to the people of the motives for thanksgiving in words suited to the congregation at the particular time, in such manner that those present feel that their own way of life is part and parcel of the history of salvation and gain ampler benefits from the celebration of the Eucharist. ~ 9. Again, so far as the end looked to by the Eucharistic Prayer is con-cerned, as well as its make-up and structure, the aspect known as petition or intercession is to be considered secondary. In the reformed liturgy that aspect is developed especially in the universal prayer whereby, in a freer form and one more suited to the circumstances, supplications are made for the Church and for mankind. Nonetheless, the new liturgical books offer also a variety of forms of intercession to be inserted into the different Eucharistic Prayers, according to the structure of each, in particular celebra- '~"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. 1°See ibid., no. 552. 11Paul VI, the apostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), p. 219. lzSee "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,'" no. 11. The Eucharistic Prayers / 985 tions, and above all in ritual Masses.1~ In this way the reason for any partic-ular celebration is made clear and definitive, while at the time the offering of this prayer in communion with the whole Church is signalized,at Embolisms 10. Besides the variations noted above, which are intended to bring about a closer connection between the thanksgiving and the intercessions, there are also, in the Roman tradition, some special formulas to be used "infra actionem" on the principal solemnities of the liturgical year, whereby the memorial of the mystery of Christ being celebrated is made the more manifest.1,~ It is clear from this that there was concern in ancient tradition to main-tain the unchangeable character of the text, while yet not excluding certain opportune variations. If the faithful, hearing the same text again and again, unite themselves somewhat the more easily with the priest celebrant in prayer, nevertheless some variations, though only few in number, prove acceptable and useful, arousing attention, as they do, encouraging piety and lending a certain special quality to the prayer. Nor is there any reason why the Episcopal Conferences should not make similar provision for their own areas, a bishop for his diocese, or the com-petent authority for the Proper pertaining to a religious family, in regard to the points mentioned above (nos. 8-10) as open to variation, and then ask the Holy See for confirmation of the same. Ecclesial Dimensions 11 :' The ecclesial importance attaching to the Eucharistic celebration is to be highly esteemed. For while in the celebration of the Eucharist "there is represented and brought about the unity of the faithful who constitute one body in Christ,''~6 "the celebration of Mass is already in itself a profession of faith in which the Church recognizes and expresses itself.''~7 All this is abundantly apparent in the Eucharistic Prayer itself, in which not just some lain regard to Eucharistic Prayer I or the Roman Canon, besides the faculty of introducing names in the Memento (N.N.), see the special Memento for godparents in Masses for the initiation into the Church of adults and the formulas for the Hanc igitur in Masses from the Easter vigil to the second Sunday of paschal time, for baptisms of adults, for confirmation, ordination, marriages, profession, for the con-secration of virgins; in regard to Eucharistic Prayers II, III, IV, see Embolisms for adult neophytes, those professed, and consecrated virgins. a4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 55g. x.~See the proper Communicantes for Christmas and octave, for the Epiphany, from the Mass of the paschal vigil until the second Sunday of paschal time, for the Ascension and for Pentecost. x6See Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 3, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 62 ~rSecretariat for Christian Unity, the instruction ltt quibus rerum circumstantiis, June 1 1972, no. 2b, AAS, v. 64 (1972), p. 520. 986 / Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 private person or a local community only, but "the one only Catholic Church" existing in whatsoever number of individual churches18 addresses itself to God. But where Eucharistic Prayers are introduced without any approbation from the competent authority in the Church, disquiet and dissensions fre-quently arise among priests and in congregations, whereas on the contrary the Eucharist ought to be "a sign of unity" and "a bond of charity.''19 Indeed not a few complain of the too subjective character of such texts. The fact is that those who take part in the celebration have a right that the Eucharistic Prayer, which they ratify as it were by their "Amen," should not be mixed up with or wholly imbued with the personal preferences of the one'who wrote the text br makes use of it. Hence it is. obviously necessary that only those texts of the Eucharistic Prayer are to be employed which, being approved by legitimate Church authority, manifest very clearly and fully an ecclesial bearing. Catechetical Preparation 12. But a more accurate adaptation of the celebration to the diversity of congregations and of circumstances, °and also a fuller expression of the catechetical content, which cannot be always or conveniently effected in the Eucharistic Prayer, given its nature, will be able to be inserted in those parts and set forms of the liturgical action which lend themselves to varia-tion or require it. 13. First of all, those who prepare the celebrations or preside at them are reminded of the faculty granted in the "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,''2° whereby they can, in certain cases, choose Masses and also texts for the various parts of the Mass, such as Lessons, prayers, chants, so that they answer "as far as possible to the needs, the preparation of mind and the capacity of those taking part.''21 Nor is it to be forgotten that other documents, published since the appearance of the aforementioned "In-structio," offer further guidelines.and directions for enlivening celebrations and adapting them to pastoral needs.~ Admonitions 14. Amongst the matters which lend themselves to a fuller adaptation lSSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 23, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 27. 19st. Augustine, In loannis Evangelium Tractatus, 26, 13, CCL, v. 36, 266; and see Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 47, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. zo"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," nos. 314-24. Zqbid., no. 313. -°-°See Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the instruction Actio pastoralis, May 15 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 806-11; the instruction Memoriale Domini, May 29 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 541-7; and the instruction Sacramentali com-municatione, June 29 1970, AAS, v. 62 (1970)i pp. 664-7. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~7 and are left to the individual celebrants to make use of, it is well to keep in mind the admonition, the homilies, and the universal prayers. Firstly the admonitions: by means of these the faithful are brought to a deeper understanding of the meaning of the sacred function or of some of its various parts. Of these admonitions those are of special importance which the priest himself is invited by the "Instructio generalis Missalis romani" to compose and deliver for the purpose of introducing those present to the Mass of the day before the actual celebration begins, or to the liturgy of the word before the readings, or to the Eucharistic Prayer before the Preface; and also as a conclusion of the whole sacred ceremony before the dismissal.2a T.hen again, importance is to be given to those admonitions that are laid down in the "Ordo Missae" for certain rites, which are to be introduced either before the penitential act or before the Lord's prayer. Naturally these admonitions need not be given word for word as set out in the Missal, so much so indeed that it may well be advisable, at least in certain instances, to adapt them somewhat to the actual circumstances of the particular. gathering. Nevertheless, in giving these admonitions their particular char-acter is to be preserved, so that they do not turn into sermons or homilies; and care must be taken to be brief, and verbosity, wearisome to the partic-ipants, must be avoided. Homily and Universal Prayer 15. Besides the admonitions there is the homily to be kept in mind. It is "part of the liturgy o itself''24 and is the means of explaining to the faithful there present,, in a manner suited to their cap.acity and way of life and relative to the circumstances of the celebration, the word of God that is proclaimed in the liturgical assembly. 16. Finally, considerable importance is to be attached to the Universal Prayer with which the congregation responds~ in a certain way, to the word of God already explained to them and accepted by them. To ensure its efficacy, care must be taken that the petitions offered up for various needs throughout the world should be suited to the congregation, bringing to bear in their composition that wise freedom consistent with the nature of this prayer. Style of Reading 17. Without any doubt, for the celebration to be a truly community and live happening, besides the choice of its various elements it requires that the one presiding and the others who have some particular function to perform should give thought to the various kinds of verbal communica- -~3See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 11. -~Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 52, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 114. Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 tion with the congregation, namely the Readings, the homily, the admoni-tions, the introduction, and the like.z~ In reciting the prayers, and especially theEucharistic Prayer, the priest ¯ .- must avoid on the one hand a dry style of reading without any variation of voice, and on the other hand a too subjective and emotional style of speech and action. As the one presiding over the function, he must be very careful in reading or singing to help those taking part to form a true community celebrating and living the memorial of the Lord. 18. In order to ensure a still fuller impact of the word and greater spiritual fruit, due regard must be given, as indeed many desire, to the sacred silence which is to be observed at stated times as part of the liturgical actions,-~6 in order that each one, according to temperament and the reaction of the moment, either makes some self-examination or meditates briefly on what he has just been listening to or praises God and prays to Him in his heart.27 19. In view of all the above, it may be permitted to express the earnest wish and hope that the pastors of souls, instead of introducing novelties in the way of texts and rites into the sacred functions, will rather be con-cerned to instruct the faithful with anxious care in order that these may the better understand the nature, structure, and elements of the celebration, and especially of the Eucharistic Prayer, and may participate ever more fully and more knowledgeably in the celebration itself. The power and the efficacy of the sacred liturgy does not consist merely in the newness and variety of its elements, but in a deeper communion with the mystery of salvation made actual and operative in the liturgical function. In this way alone are the faithful, in their profession of one faith and outpouring of one prayer, enabled to follow out their salvation and be in communion with their brethren. The matters contained in this Circular Letter, drawn up by this Sacred Congregation, were approved and confirmed by the Supreme Pontiff Pope Paul VI on the 18th day of April 1973 and ordered by him to be made public. From the offices of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the 27th day of April 1973. ARTHUR Card. TABERA Prefect "I" A. BUGNINI Tit. Archbp. of Diocletiana Secretary 2~See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 18. °-~See Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum ~Concilium, no. 30, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 108; and Sacred Congregation of Rites, the instruction Musicam sacram, March 5 1967, no. 17, AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 305. -~rSee "lnstitutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 23. Spirituality in a.Time of Transition George M. Regan, C.M. George M. Regan, C.M., is chairman of the Department of Theology; St. John's University; Grand Central and Utopia Parkways; Jamaica, New York 11439. Pluralism has become a central fact in Church life and theology in our day. The uniformity in structures, laws, customs, and religious outlook which formerly prevailed has given way to divergence. Against this pluralistic background, it becomes impossible to claim one monolithic conception of spirituality for religious today. Religious communities differ enormously from one another, and individual religious sometimes agree to disagree in matters concerning spirituality. Tension between Two Understandings Some entire communities and many individual religious follow the same routine and understanding inherited from former generations. A highly structured order of day with set times for prayer, common meditation books, reading in the dining hall, and frequent communal exercises still prevail in some communities. This approach to spirituality generally assigns great prominence to the virtue of obedience to the Rule and to various authorities as the focal point of one's spiritual life. On the other hand, some communities and many religious, particularly younger persons, have adopted a more fluid and personalistic approach to spirituality which emphasizes personal responsibility and underlying values, rather than stressing so much obedience to set regulations. The introduction of shared responsibility among the meml:~ers tempers greatly the traditional understanding of obedience. A widespread dissatisfaction with such prayer forms as litanies, novenas, the rosary, and stations of the cross, together 989 990 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with a questioning of the underlying rationale for these forms characterize many religious. Tension between these two general understandings often exists in the same province, the same local house, and even in the same person, who may vacillate, one day wanting the freedom of personal responsibility, another day desirous of some common regulations regarding spirituality. Frequently, one encounters religious whose general chapters moved the community officially toward a spirituality which stresses personal responsibility and the members are experiencing the pains of transition to the actual practice of spiritual values, once the supports and structures of a lifetime were removed. Though consolidation and lessening of polarization can be noted in some religious communities, individual religious find this transitional period a painful experience. The task of appropriating personally Christian values can be quite trying and the price paid may be confusion, drifting, and out-right failure. Young and old, liberal and conservative, share these difficulties. This article will concern itself mostly with religious who find themselves in this trying situation of transition to new meanings. Mutual understanding among re!igious may help tide them over to some degree during this transi-tional stage. Ministry to religious will also require sensitivity, compassion, and an appreciation of the practical implications involved in the shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to a more personalistic view of the spiritual life. In particular, we shall present some main features of a contemporary theology of spirituality and apply this to religious life. By way of introduction, however, a brief review of the former, obedience-centered spirituality may serve to locate and focus more sharply our main consi~derations. The Obedience-centered Approach The traditional stress in religious life on the Rule, authority, and the virtue of obedience bears similarity t~o the law-centered approach to moral theology which prevailed until relatively recently. This mo,rality or way of life for the Christian, as presented in the moral manuals in use until the mid-1960s, assigned prominence to law and to self-perfection through the acquiring of virtue. Obedience to law in all exactness came through in trad.itional moral theology as the center of the Christian moral life. An impression was conveyed of certainty and security. Individual acts of a person received far more emphasis than did the overall life stance or attitude which a believer gradually assu~es before God and the neighbor. "Live within the confines of the law" seemed the main moral task. This mentality became influential within many religious communities in their approach to spirituality. A candidate would be encouraged during formation to give onself to Christ, to give up one's will, to make a holocaust of oneselL One's will, mind, possessions, sexual love, and personal .prefer-ences would be given over to God. The role of authority, the Rule, and Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 991 obedience would be emphasized. To do as one is told, to place oneself as an awl in the hands of the carpenter would be familiar emphases in formation programs. The individual would not ordinarily be urged to plan, suggest, modify, or advise. The most docile and obedient candidate would be considered .the best and "growing in holiness." Sacrifice of one's will to the will of legitimate authority, in particular, occupied a prominent position in this traditional spirituality. "The less "of me in obedience, the more of Christ" has a familiar ring. Spirituality and life style fit a highly regulated pattern in this approach. The stress on communal goals led to a broad uniformity reaching into utmost details of ~religious life. A personal goal of self-fulfillment or indi-viduality would often be considered pride. A person would not usually be encouraged to express emotions, to develop individual personality, or to value creative expressiveness. Talents and interests would often be chan-neled solely for common purposes in many communities, so that, for example, the religious would not be consulted about even one's future apostolate. A rigid common order of day and uniform control of m~tters such as. coming and going, or habit, all fitted into~ this controlled life style. Spirituality was marked by an abundance of spiritual exercises, which constituted one's principal prayers, many of them said in common. Most communities required daily meditation, Mass, various examinations of conscience, morning and evening prayers, some part of the Office and various special devotions, such as the rosary, novenas, stations of the cross, reading of Sacred Scripture, the Imitation of Christ, the Rule, and spiritual books. Penance such as fast and abstinence, abstention from tobacco and alcohol, and the public declaration of faults in chapter were found in all communities. Fidelity to long hours of work, whatever be one's assignment, and a general separation from people likewise characterized this approach to re-ligious life. Detailed norms governing visits to or from relatives, mixing with the laity and other "externs," and the vows were commonplace. The interpretation of the vow of poverty left little room for individual choice by religious, for the person ~was expected to get permission in many com-munities for any money spent or received. In religious communities of women, the vow of chastity provided the occasion for many protections established to safeguard the members: clothing, a companion system, severe restriction in reading, television, attendance at movies and shows, and contacts with men were all areas surrounded with protections. Obedi-ence meant basically a willingness to be submissive and to put one's judg-ment into the hands of superiors. This total control by superiors involved little consultation, and self-w, ill oi personal preferences were downgraded. The superiors' decisions were viewed oftentimes as final and unquestioned. This obedience-centered approach to religious life implied that Christian spirituality should center on ~unSwerving fidelity to all the details regulated 99:2 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 by the Rule and authority. Understandably, obedience became the center of one's life. This approach to spirituality, moreover, tended to view the life of grace as a supernaturalizing of nature which involved a suspicion of or actual opposition to the "merely natural." Emotions and sexuality, for example, might never seem quite Christian or supernatural in this perspec-tive. To castigate this approach to spirituality is not at all the purpose of this brief summary. Many religious obviously grew closer to God and the neighbor in their absolute fidelity to this viewpoint. Large numbers of religious functioning today have this as their general background and many have grown into new ways without immense problems. Appreciation of this traditional approach to religious life and spirituality will hopefully assist other religious unfamiliar with it and also aid those who minister to religious. This holds especially true for those religous who are attempting to adopt another approach to spirituality. Personal Response to Inner Value Many religious communities, local houses, and individual religious have moved away from this obedience-centered approach to spirituality, to an approach which emphasizes personal response to inner value. Religious who operate within this new framework experience immense changes: the former uniformity has given way to greater emphasis on personal respon- " sibility and individuality; spii'itual exercises have usually diminished in number, the kinds of common prayers have changed, and the underlying value of prayer has been stressed; choice of residence, companions, and apostolate in a self-selection process has often emerged; the vows remain, but the tight regulations interpreting them have been removed or signif-icantly altered. In this approach to religious life, a person is viewed as entering a community to develop oneself fully in the service of Christ and the neighbor, to put one's full talents at the disposal of people, and to take part in and share responsibility for the Church and for the community itself. Their most basic commitment will come into greater prominence: to enter into the death and resurrection of Jesus, leading to perfect charity toward God and the neighbor. Rather than obedience, selfless charity becomes the primary Christian virtue, in accordance with Jesus' teaching. Life itself is seen as a response to God and the neighbor in love: "How can I respond to real needs as I see them? How can I actively cooperate in community life, by advising, suggesting, and modifying?" Such questions come more readily to mind and new candidates will be encouraged in these attitudes. Personal development of healthy human qualities occupies a more central position in this outlook: "The more a person grows and reaches a balanced maturity, the more the roots of Christ's life will be strengthened." Acceptance of the authentically human implied in such a principle leads to Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 993 urging upon religious today utilization of their native talents, creative ex-pression, and a heightened personal initiative. Whatever dehumanizes the individual religious or other persons served in the apostolate, by overlook-ing their mind, heart, emotions, talents and the like, is thus viewed as un-christian. The human person in all his richness emerges in this viewpoint, therefore, as an absolute value in himself, to be safeguarded and promoted. This framework allows more emphasis on the personal response of the individual religious to inner values, both human and Christian. Decentraliza-tion, coresponsibility, and subsidiarity become the new hallmarks of obedience, for the realities underlying these terms shift the focus from .institutions to the local level and the individual religious. Each province, each house, and indeed each sister, priest, or brother is seen as making a unique contribution to the ongoing task of discerning the movement of the Holy Spirit in the group and in oneself. Spirituality itself thus becomes a more personal affair of responding according to one's convictions to human and Christian values grasped through one's own appreciation. The former stress on a host of spiritual exercises performed communally gives ¯ way to fewer common prayer gatherings, but with a concurrent stress on the individual's need to pray and to join at times with one's companions in prayer. In matters of life style, such as religious garb, types of work, freedom to come and go, and close association with non-community persons, the individual's religious commitment is not viewed as precluding choices similar to those of the Christian laity. This brief overview of the traditional approach to religious life and contemporary tendencies has the danger of caricaturing both viewpoints. This presentation has attempted, nevertheless, to recall the predominant flavor of each approach, while realizing the nuancing and variations embodied in religious communities. We shall now turn our attention to some questions associated with this immense shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to the value-centered spirituality of personal responsibility. Stressing Values Today Religious grew accustomed to viewing life as "doing what I'm told." Withthe growing reliance on person responsibility and on one's own con-science, rather than on the Rule and superiors, some religious today drift aimlessly. Formerly, they were trained to look for virtue and sin in indi-vidual acts, especially when the Rule, customs of the community, or the will of the superior would be at stake. Abandonment of this law-centered-ness in their community may leave them wondering what spirituality now implies for them. They may understandably fail to grasp that the basic failure to clarify personally accepted values in such matters as prayer, poverty, chastity, and coresponsibility all entail immense accountability. Likewise, the challenge to assume responsibility for one's life, to respond to the needs of people by taking initiative and risk, to prepare for one's 994 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 apostolate, to continue one's education by personal study, and to serve others selflessly is the vast field of human and Christian values which con-stitute spirituality for them. Religious may, therefore, lack the clearcut criteria of the past; but their personal sense of God's calling and of conscientious Christian response will surely point out areas of concern and of neglect to grow, whether they be prayer, concern for the neighbor, or personal growth in ensuring healthy psychological development. How one strives to pray, to serve others, to manifest responsibility in the apostolate, to be poor, chaste, and a contrib-uting member of the community all take on more connotations for a Chris-tian which cannot be carefully and casuistically delineated in the manner of past moral theology and religious spirituality. They nonetheless embody the task of spirituality for religious today. The individual religious and those who minister to religious have a joint responsibility to reflect on the entirety of Gospel values and to apply them in their lives today; to chal-lenge religious when neglect of these values has however subtly crept in; to assist the person in facing himself or herself and in deepening con-victions about Christian values. The Christian calling for religious today, then, is to center their lives on taking more seriously gospel values and to live within the overall frame-work proper to any Christian, as applied in their concrete circumstances. In the past decade, significant progress has occurred in moral theology in reformulating and expressing the way of life revealed in Jesus. These developments hold good promise for our appreciation of Christian spiritu-ality. The following brief presentation of some main lines of these develop-ments will have a direct bearing on the question of a spirituality relevant for religious today: The Framework of Christian Life A personalist approach to theology may be discerned in contemporary literature. This holds true for moral theology in a spec.ial fashion where many authors now present the Christian life centered on the theme of God's call and man's response. This contrasts considerably with the more abstractionist and law-centered approach of former times. The Trinitarian framework of the way of life preached by Jesus provides an overall structure of God approaching man and offering Himself to him: "We shall come to him and make our abode with him." Passages of Sacred Scripture where Jesus promises to send the Spirit and to live among us, or where He pictures God as a Father close to His sons, offer an image of God and man in intimate relationship. Each person is approached by a loving and con-cerned God and .challenged to respond personally to Him. This "call-response" morality and spirituality replace the former stress on law and selfrperfection, in the basic meaning of grace, God's self-gift, God gives Himself to man and acts in him, enabling him to respond. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 995 .~ New Testament teaching indicates the chief manifestation of this love of God to be the way in which we love our neighbor. The one virtue of charity directed toward God and man holds a primacy over all other virtues, including obedience. The law-centered approach of older moral theology has thus given way to a love-centered approach, viewed as more faithful to Jesus' teaching. No impersonal law governs the Christian; rather life may be seen in its entirety as a response to a personal and loving God. "Falling in love" with God expresses the main task of Christian conversion to the Lord which Jesus preached. A morality of relationship conceived along theseolines thus sees each person in dialogue with God and meeting God in the~ events, people, and prayer experiences of daily living. Within this personalist framework of loving response to God's invitation, the central role of Jesus in Christian living has become a major theme. Jesus presents Himself as our way, truth, and life, and other New Testament writers see our union with Jesus as a basic fact of the Christian way of life. This conception of Jesus' relationship with the Christian believer ranges far beyond viewing Him as an external model or pattern to be imitated or mimicked~ God has approached man and .continues to invite man in Jesus His Son who in a humanity like ours responded selflessly. United in Him, we have received the capacity to respond selflessly too. As sons in the Son of God, we become immersed ~in His destiny and receive a personal invitation to enter into~intimate relationship with Him. Any spirituality which merits the name Christian must, therefore, see this personal relationship with Jesus as the focal point~°or core element. The individual religious and those charged with direction should, then, confront 'this fundamental Christian vision in a constant way. Such confrontation at this deep level of Christian life moves well past lesser issues to the core of religious life: the task of answering the call to "Come, follow me." A Continuing Process Man's response to God's personal call is seen as a continuing process, not simply as a series of individual acts. Contemporary theologians em-phasize greatly the life direction, or orientation'which a person gradually assumes ,toward God, manifested in his love of the neighbor. This basic choice, or fundamental option, as it has been termed, grows throughout one's life into a commitment in faith and love which, underlies all individual acts and does not easily waver or disappear. The exceptional concern with individual acts familiar to all who formerly studied moral theology has thus lessened, if not vanished entirely, in present-day moral theology. Rather than becoming excessively concerned with individual choices alone, the believer is urged to see the Holy Spirit guiding him from within as his primary law; The Christian should, in the mind of St. Paul, deepen this lifegrowth through increasing personal response to the Spirit and become further removed from the "law of sin and death," from which Jesus set 996 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 us free. For religious working within this perspective, the Spirit Himself would be viewed as one's guidance. All other norms or regulations can occupy only a secondary and peripheral place in the Christian life for the faithful Christian. Religious life can never imply the abandonment of this glorious heritage of Christians: their freedom as God's children to follow the Spirit which moves them to discern the task of love. Viewed in this broad perspective, Christian life and spirituality are a continuous conversion to God through one's free and full disposal of him-self. This occurs at a profound level of the human person and becomes manifested in acts which may reveal, though they sometimes hide, his actual inner state. In contrast with traditional ascetical theology, which gave some prominence to the three ways of the spiritual life, a contemporary treat-ment of Christian living would stress this Biblical notion of gradual, yet continuing conversion to God and the neighbor, which avoids the artificial-ity of the division of the spiritual life into the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. The openendedness of conversion to a lifetime of development, moreover, cuts against merely "getting by" in a minimalistic interpretation of Christian life and also allows more of a positive emphasis. Humanism, the World, and Life-giving Moral and ascetical theology often mentioned a division between natural and supernatural virtues, motives, or elements in man. Whatever seemed merely "natural" took on a rather base meaning for the believer swept into the Christian life of perfection. Unfortunately, this two-storyed approach to~ the question of the relationship between nature and grace can lend the wrong connotation that natural human features such as emo-tions, sexuality, humor, a vibrant personality, and a keen sense of joy do not have much place in a "supernatural" universe. This happened in many a religious formation program. Repression of feelings, human qualities, and one's individual characteristics follow too readily in this atmosphere. A packaged and stereotyped religious may emerge as an ideal. Spiritual direction and personal reflection of religious today must cope realistically with the unhealthy consequences of these false understandings which contemporary theology has abandoned. Christian spirituality should instead acknowledge the goodness of all that is human: emotions, sexuality, temperament, personality, and the like should enter into the Christian response of the whole person. Development and fulfillment of these truly human aspects of the person should be incorporated into any authentic approach to Christian spirituality. An inescapable element in contemporary theology has been a growing concern with the here-and-now, with real people living in the present world. Secularization theology made that' emphasis predominant: Despite the enormous stress today on the virtue of hope and the image of God calling us from and toward Our future, theology sees this challenge of the Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 997 future kingdom as urging us even now to concern ourselves with man in his present-day strivings and problems. Building the kingdom of justice, peace, harmony, and love should not simply be relegated to the afterlife. A Christian spirituality directed beyond this world would, then, neglect this essential element. That God may be found at the deepest point of the human and that other persons, events, and nature itself reveal God to the believer's .eye are the sorts of emphases common in contemporary literature which apply directly to an updated spirituality for religious. How might religious serve the world in profound love? How might they enter into dynamic relationship with people .and not be unduly separated from them? Christian discernment must focus on such central questions. The prevailing mood of today's theology, finally, seems far more optimistic, joyful, and hopeful than did traditional moral and ascetical theology. This may result from the importance assigned to the Resurrection in today's literature. Some years ago, more emphasis was placed on the Passion and Death of Jesus, and in a way which sometimes failed to take sufficient account of his victory over suffering and death. This distorted theology of the cross led inevitably to a glorification of suffering, pain, or deprivation in an unchristian and masochistic way. Dread, anxiety, negativ-ism, or pessimism runs counter to the life-filled Spirit which animates and invigorates the believer. Celebration of the forces of life and love is a more authentic Christian disposition. The search for life-giving, rather than death-dealing forces should be a prime sign of Christian humanism. A joyless Christian spirituality will, therefore, hopefully find fewer adherents today than might formerly have been the case. That suffering and a certain death will precede life and resurrection, as they did for Jesus, appears of course in today's theology. This aspect of Christian life and spirituality does not, however, receive as much prominence as formerly and it is placed into the broader perspective of the entire Paschal mystery. Religious might well aim at assuming more of this joyful,, hopeful, and optimistic tone into their spirituality, which should rest ultimately on their trust and confidence in God's power. Results of These Emphases These comments clearly do not lead to a detailed and specific spirituality which brings into the forefront a set of uniform practices. Pluralism in forms of spirituality, then, would be taken for granted within this broad Christian framework. Regulations, spiritual exercises, and rigid conformity recede to the background. A spirituality based on a personal response to God in Christ, through the action of the Holy Spirit, replaces a spirituality founded on a morality of law arid of individual acts. The stress on avoidance of sin, on obligation, and on negativism which characterized some former writings will appear unusual, if not unchristian, to a person versed in these recent approaches. Is life becoming a YES to God? Is the person choosing 998 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 more and more to reach out to God and to others selflessly, after the pattern of God's own Son? Is the person gradually gaining the sense of giving himself over to the action of the Holy Spirit from within, relying on His guidance in a spirit of freedom and joy? The concerns evidenced in these sorts of questions become more central in the person's spirituality. Because Christian holiness implies personal response to a loving God, leading to genuine friendship with Him, it rules out a merely instinctual approach to religious of Christian life. Blind and irrational impulse does not equal religious fervor. Fetishes, superstitions, empty traditions, and formalistic ritualism, without inner meaning, have no place in a human or Christian way of life. Authentic tradition and ritual will buttress Christian convictions and express them in continuity with the past Christian com-munity. Sheer compulsive activity without an inner giving of oneself to God in personal union with Him as a friend to a friend, on the other hand, duplicates the empty observances of the Pharisees condemned by Jesus. Holiness can never be viewed as measured by a proliferation of regulations or observances. A legalistic approach to "following the Rule," without a sufficient inner sense of responding to God and the neighbor as the main animating criterion of a believer's life, deserves to die its death. Even one's approach to such laudatory practices as confession of one's sins, the rosary, the Divine Office, and Eucharist, must avoid an attitude of "just fulfilling my obligation." Unless such prayers spring from genuine interior disposi-tions, they fail to be authentic religious acts. The Goal and the Means Implicit in the foregoing, but deserving special mention, is the oft-repeated, but as frequently forgotten, distinction between the goal of spirituality and the means to attain it. Spiritual exercises, however devo-tional and fervent, do not of themselves constitute one's life of loving union with God and the neighbor, toward which all genuine spirituality leads. All prayers, orders of day, and other structures and forms, have a relative, not an absolute value as contributing hopefully to the deepening of this relationship with the Triune God. Spiritual direction and religious life itself, therefore, should allow room for individual differences in fostering the goals of spirituality and they should not unduly absolutize spiritual exercises by making them, in effect, goals unto themselves. A spirituality based on personal responsibility leads more often than not, it seems, to a lessening of communal prayers. IneVitably, this creates tensions between individual and communal° needs in the matter of prayer. This problem is not easily resolved, and pluralism and polarization emerge forcefully in this context. The desire for smaller group living in like-minded communities sometimes stems from this factor alone. Dialogue, sensitivity to one another, and a genuine desire for a Christian prayer community will go a long way in calming the waters. Experience indicates, however, that Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 999 the broader issue of unity in diversity within religious communities comes to bear on this point. Universal solutions have not been discovered to cope with this problem. Certainly, charity, an ability to compromise, and unify-ing leadership are indispensable qualities in such situations. Without their presence, the praying community inevitably dissolves into factions. The spirituality outlined previously will also, as has been briefly men-tioned, have important consequences for the overall tone or mood which religious adopt in their lives. Religious have a meaning in the Church as an intense cell of vibrant Christian life. They are constantly seen in Church documents and in their own self-understandings in constitutions as signs of God's love working among men and of His grace operating in the hearts of all people. When documents state that religious witness to heavenly values, this implies that religious should show by their lives what faith in God can mean: hope, confidence, optimism in ultimate destinies; faith and charity in everyday concerns. Religious should be encouraged to develop these qualities and not to repress or bury their emotional aliveness. In moving away from an excessively obedience-centered approach, religious should thus replace it with a Christian life and spirituality centered on faith, love, hope in God and in ultimate realities, manifested in their love and service to mankind. These constitute the primary gospel values. More emphasis on these values, rather than on the more peripheral elements of religious life, should characterize a renewed religious life and spirituality. Prayer or Prayers Our remarks on spiritual exercises as a means to the goal of union in prayer have not addressed real issues which arise and merit special con-sideratioia. Mandated spiritu~l exercises have indeed disappeared almost entirely in some communities and lessened in number in nearly all. Even Eucharistic participation may occur on a private basis in many religious houses and communal prayer may occur only a few times weekly or perhaps less. These changes in regulations concerning prayers do not answer com-pletely a religious' concern for growth in prayer life, beyond any minimum set down by legal regulations or common agreement. The fact that daily Office in common or in private, common meditation, and spiritual reading are no longer enjoined by Rule, for example, does not settle the question for the individual religious. It may well be that the Spirit is moving the person to an exceptionally developed prayer life. An unexceptionable Christian challenge and calling is that of praying in, through, and with Jesus: How is this religious man or woman facing into this challenge? By escape and saying that practically all prayer forms are irrelevant? That spiritual reading, even of Sacred Scripture, fails to attract? That meditation in common is not necessary and yet, without the support of other praying Christians, I rarely pray reflectively at all? That daily Eucharist is not a necessity, so.I go once or twice weekly? A religious 1000 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 can argue any of these points or patterns of behavior and rightly claim that none of them is intrinsically necessary for a Christian life. This might well be the case in abstract terms. In the concrete, however, patterns of neglect in prayer and failure to grow vibrantly in the Christian life as a dedicated religious tie together more frequently than by sheer chance. That the person prays little can be the overall impression. Beyond one's protestations about personal prayerfulness in general, the individual religious and those who assist religious might inquire about the person's actual formal prayer, about those times when the religious places himself in God's presence and speaks, however non-verbally, or simply holds himself open to the Spirit's action. "My work is my prayer," in particular, seems a peculiarly sure way of not praying genuinely in the long run in a deep and constant fashion, if this laudable attitude is not accompanied by some periods of personal reflective prayer and communal sharing of prayerfulness in a limited way at least. Omission of specific prayers does not of itself constitute the reality termed mortal sin, in light of present-day understandings of the fundamental option theory. One would, in fact, be hard put to pin any label of sin on any given lack of praying some spiritual exercises. Yet the individual religious should ask himself constantly about his personal prayer life beyond any legal require-ments and explain to himself just how his life of prayer fits within his overall commitment to grow ever more deeply into the life pattern of the crucified and risen Lord, in contact with His Father and in service unreservedly of His brothers. Religious Consecration by Vow The suggested framework of Christian spirituality based on personal responsibility implies too that all considerations about the vows must touch on the value underlying each vow. The religious Rule' which formerly enshrined the value intended by the vow has usually changed these days beyond recognition. Poverty permissions have all but disappeared from many communities; religious may receive a monthly stipend and be com-pletely responsible for their own financing, especially in small group living. The tight restrictions surrounding and protecting chastity have changed: clothing, hairstyling and covering, use of cosmetics, freedom to associate and to form friendships with the other sex have much novelty about them. Coordinators in place of local superiors or local coresponsibility without any such individual authority have diffused the sense of obedience for many religious. The basic value underlying each vow must, therefore, be stressed in this changed atmosphere. Theologically, the vows relate to the religious' fundamental Christian calling and consecration in baptism, whereby the person enters into the mystery of Christ's death and rising to new life. Each evangelical vow furthers this initial commitment to growth in Christ. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 1001 The most basic value, then, will tie in with Christ-centeredness: that each vow should promote one's relationship with Christ. The vows will never be understood as implying hatred of the goods of this world, or of sexual intimacy, or of personal responsibility and freedom. Instead, poverty implies a liberating of energy, attention, and time from concentration on material welfare to imitate and become united to the poor Christ in His radical dependence on the Father. The value of chastity will not be just for ease or efficiency in the apostolate, or for avoidance of sexual arousal and union with another person. Rather, chastity as God's gift frees a person to give oneself over to God in love completely and to open oneself to all people, without centering one's love on one person sexually. The value accepted in obedience, finally, will be a basic sense of openness to the Spirit of Jesus, working where He will and particularly through the community. Religious consecration by vow thus implies a renunciation of self-fulfill-ment by material goods, sexual and loving involvement and union with one person, and fully autonomous behavior free of communal concerns. The person chooses to live his Christian response to God's call in more radical dependence on Him and in reaching for and living in the future, while enjoying the present. Only a constant striving for a deeper relation-ship and union with the Son in the death-life cycle of His self-emptying love can make possible this Christian vision. Religious have freely chosen these profound values which remain despite the removal of legal require-ments about the vows. Faithful to his religious calling, each religious must heed the call God addresses to him to live these values. Conclusion For all Christians and therefore for all religious, the challenge of Chris-tian spirituality entails responding personally in an open-ended fashion to God, avoiding satisfaction with the minimalism of merely "getting by," seeing life as love-centered, not sin-centered or law-centered, and establish-ing a personal relationship with Jesus by faithfulness to His Spirit at work in our hearts. Religi.ous men and women who live this kind of spirituality .certainly adopt an idealism which surpasses the ordinary. Yet this idealism embodies the rich heritage of the freeing message of the Good News: that through the liberating action of the Spirit of Jesus all His followers are enabled and urged to cry out Father and to spend themselves selflessly for others, in the image of Jesus. Now My Eye Sees Thee: The Bible as a Record of Religious Experience C. M. Cherian, S.J. Father Cherian, a professor of Sacred Scripture, lives at Vidya Jyoti; Delhi 6, India. This article first appeared in Clergy Monthly, March 1973, pages 90-100. It is re-printed here with the kind permission of the editor of Clergy Monthly. It is well known that, in pre-Vatican II scholastic theology, the reality of faith was conceived of as an intellectual assent to religious truths rather than a personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ. This conception is reflected in the description of faith given by the First Vatican Council. Faith is "a supernatural virtue by which we believe, with the inspiration and help of God's grace, that what He has revealed is true." Attention is directed to the particular truths that God has revealed, to the intellectual acceptance of these truths, not to God Himself or personal submission to Him who is Truth. And there is some emphasis on the obscurity and weakness of the perception involved. We believe "not be-cause we perceive the intrinsic truth of the things revealed, but because of the authority of God Himself who revealed them, and who can neither be deceived nor deceive." The impression created is that of some second-hand borrowed knowledge whose acceptance is "commanded" by our grace-supported will. Dangers of This Approach In such an approach there is the danger that faith-life may be thought of as being essentially and largely an intellect-and-will affair which does not necessarily involve a person in the experience of a direct relationship with God and of a new life in Him. The obscuring of the personalist aspect of faith in the minds of theologians and pastors had consequences for the religious instruction of the faithful. They were not sufficiently helped to The Bible and Religious Experience / 1003 understand their grace-life in personalistic and existential terms. The legacy of this old approach is still evident in the lives of the faithful, especially the more educated among them. They fight shy of a personal approach to God, and are incapable or distrustful of spontaneous personal prayer and of active involvement and sharing in common worship. Recently a group of educated Catholic young lay men and women, who were taking a course on the Psalms, told the present writer that several of them had serious difficulty about accepting personally the reality of God as Creator, Savior and Judge. The furthest they could go was to accept the message of Christ and give an intellectual assent to the Catholic doctrine about God. They frankly confessed that they had no personal experience of God. Still St. John says that what Christ, the Son of God, has done is to make the Father known (Jn 1:18). The grace of Christ consists in our receiving the adoption of sons and being enabled to say "Abba,.Father" to God (Gal 4:4). Neglect ot Personal Religious Experience A byproduct of the intellectual approach to the Christian faith was the almost complete neglect of the whole area of personal religious experience. Historically Catholics in the West could not agree with certain schools and theories of religious experience which represented an aberration from the truth, so far as they questioned either the validity of human reason or the certainty of objective Christian revelation. But this does not mean that anybody could repudiate the right kind of religious experience which is manifested and communicated everywhere in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures themselves, and in the Scriptures of other religions. The Scrip-tures are obviously the God-given guide to genuine religious experience, and, so far as they are inspired, they are God's instrument for the com-munication of the right kind of religious experience. The Workshop Handbook (Vol. I), published by the "All-India Seminar on the Church in India Today," contains some valuable insights into the question we are examining here. The Report of the Workshop on Spirituality points out that Christianity is essentially the handing down o[ the experience that Jesus Christ, the perfect Man, had o] God the Father and His love and plan. He communicated this experience to the Apostles. In them it took the form of a total personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ, the risen Lord, and a sensitivity to the leading and guidance of the Holy Spirit. All the external means and practices of the Church are directed towards enabling the faithful to personally appropriate the inner living experience of the risen Lord, which implies a total conversion. It is the personal religious experience of the prophets, Apostlesl and other holy men that was expressed in the words of the Scriptures and in liturgical and other formulas and in ritual actions. A fundamental pastoral problem consists in making 1004 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 sure that, while we are busily engaged in passing on the rites and the formulas, we also succeed in transmitting the inner personal experience that they are meant to express, the experience that can be summed up in such words as: "We have seen the Lord" (Jn 20:25; see 1:14) or "My Lord and my God" (Jn 20:28) or "Lord, You know that I love You" (Jn 21:17). Old Testament Data The Scriptures make it clear throughout that men are called to a life of personal intimacy with God. The Genesis story says that man is made in the image of God. This means that men are capable of personal com-munion with God and of being transformed info God's likeness, the likeness of His Son. It is sin that makes Adam want to hide himself from God. The work of redemption consists, therefore, in saving the lost and restoring them to that closeness to God for which they were created. Abraham and Jacob God appears to Abraham with the message: "1 am God Almighty; walk before Me and be blameless. I will make My covenant between Me and you . . .'" (Gen 17). Biblical religion consists essentially in this I-thou relationship, in men learning to conduct themselves in the presence of God. This is the secret of their holiness. It must mean that man stands in awe of the God of heaven and earth, is never deaf to His voice, is never unaware of the demands of His love and plan, and is never deliberately unfaithful to these demands. In Genesis 28 we see that Jacob's ambition and over-cleverness have landed him in deep trouble. He is obliged to flee Palestine to escape from his brother's wrath. He is terribly lonely and desolate. God's grace is .a.t work in this man-made crisis. God uses it in order to quicken Jacob's notional faith into a deeply personal faith. He has an experience of God being present, and addressing him, and renewing the promises made to his fathers, so that he exclaims: "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it" (Gen 28: 16). This statement is meant to express what is typical of man's condition. In the narratives about the appearances of the risen Lord to His disciples, we are repeatedly told that He was with them on various occasions, but at first they did not recognize Him (see Lk 24:16; Jn 20: 14; 21:4). The maturity of our faith consists in our becoming aware that the Lord cannot be absent, that He is savingly active here and now, and wants us to respond to Him. Moses and Elijah Moses has the task of leading and guiding God's people in the wilder-ness of Sinai. He is convinced that nothing but personal intimacy and familiarity with the Lord and constant consultation with Him can enable The Bible and Religious Experience / 1005 him to fulfil his arduous mission. Consequently his prayer is: "I pray You, if I have found favor in Your sight, show me now Your ways~ that I may know You . . . I pray You, show me Your glory . . ." (Exod 33). The Lord granted this prayer, and thus Moses was empowered to act as the leader of God's people: "The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend" (ibid.; see Num 12:8). Prophet Elijah had worked wonders in God's service. He brought about the utter defeat of the false priests of Baal, and the triumph of God's cause against idolatry. But he suddently becomes a prey to such serious depression as makes him want to die; he finds that God's cause is not making enough headway among the people as a whole, and his own life is in danger. In this crisis he is inspired to retire into the desert of Sinai. Here he has the exhilarating experience of an encounter with God. Through it he now understands what the tumultuous happenings of his prophetic ministry could not teach him. He hears the "still small voice" of God consoling him and reassuring him. He is so thoroughly renewed and strengthened by this experience of quiet communion with God that he is now fully ready for the new adventurous mission that God entrusts to him (1 Kgs 18-19). Job and Isaiah Job has been thrown completely off his balance by the series of disasters he suffered. He becomes "a fault-finder contending with the Almighty." He is full of complaints against God and His government of the world. He is ready to put God in the wrong that he himself might be justified. But finally he is completely transformed through having learned humbly to listen to God, and he receives enlightenment: "I have uttered what I did not under-stand . . . I had heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You. therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job 42). Job's conventional ideas about God and His providence have been changed into a personal experience of His mystery by which Job under-stands that "God cannot be called to account, and that His wisdom may give an .unsuspected meaning to such realities as suffering and death" (Jerusalem Bible, note). In the Jerusalem Temple Isaiah has an unexpected extraordinary experience of the all-holy God being present in all His glory. Th

Issue 57.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1998. ; religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for. shared reflection on the lived experience~ of all who find, that the church's rich heritages of gpirituality support their personal and apostolic ¯ Christian lives. The articles in ~he journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the .Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) cbntained 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 perxnission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for r ligiou$ 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 Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 34 48 leadership Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era Sandra M. Schneiders IHM offers an analysis of changing worldviews as an aid to understanding present-day religious congregations and exercising effective leadership in them. Leadership for the Common Good Donna J. Markham OP focuses on three areas of leadership skill development: conflict management, guarding against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium Anne Munley IHM sees congregational leadership as being the work of impassioned hearts sharing, finding, and making meaning in concert with all the members, with a view to warm cooperation in endeavors of burning urgency. 60 67 tradition Stability: A Monastic Charism Retrieved Joel Rippinger OSB explores stability as a matter of heart and place in the light of contemporary rootedness. History's Role in Defining Spiritual Direction Steve R. Wigall proposes that contemporary spiritual direction needs to embrace openly its historical and theological variety. Review for Religious 77 88 prayer Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are They Contemplation? Ernest E. Larkin OCarm takes a discerning look at contemporary personal prayer practice and terminology against the background of centuries-long traditions. Union with God according to John of the Cross Paul J. Bernadicou SJ describes some aspects of the sanjuanist process towards intimacy with God. departments 4 Prisms 94 Canonical Counsel: Life Consecrated by Profession of the Evangelical Counsels 100 Book Reviews Jant~aty-Februat~ 1998 I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life. prisms 4 T citizens of the United States in recent years have been reinforcing a reputation for being a people that has lost its sense of the sanctity of human life. After a brief lull in the use of the death penalty for what is considered heinous crimes, more and more individual states have been seeking execution for serious crimes committed by both men and women. Then, when we look to the beginning of life, we find that abortion in the United States, even in late term, is justified through the most permissive legal understanding allowed by any Western nation. Finally, when we consider the possible end of life, assisted suicide for the elderly or for the chron-ically ill is already legal in one state and is being promoted by a number of people who defend what is euphemisti-cally called "mercy killing." As we come ~o the last years of this millennium, this most powerful, prosperous, and well-educated nation is sadly being identified as a people that readily "takes life." The year 1998 focuses upon the Holy Spirit in our Christian preparations for entering into the third millen-nium guided by the pastoral plan presented to us by Pope John Paul. Whatever the strength of our faith, the Holy Spirit is the Trinitarian Person most difficult for us to talk about, t9 imagine, and to relate to. Spirit, breath, wind, love, fire are words that in themselves have no face nor even a substance that can be grasped. And yet these are some of the common, traditional words applied to the One we call the Third Person of our Trinitarian God. We might, though, begin this second year of our preparations for the millennium by calling in prayer upon the Spirit by a name appropriate to the times in which we live. Review for Religious In the Nicene Creed we express our belief in the Person called the Holy Spirit, professing first that he is Lord God and then designating this Person as "the Giver of life." What a wonderful identity--Giver of life--especially in regard to a people earning a reputation as "takers of life." It seems obvious that a basic gift we seek from God in this year 1998 is a renewed reverence, respect, and appreciation for human life. Throughout this year, perhaps we all need an examination of conscience on behavior involving us as "takers of life." "Takers of life" can involve an attitude which sullies our approach to any part of God's creation--each part a gift from God. We can become so self-centered that everything--from the ecological environ-ment to the earth's resources to human life itself--is viewed in its value now for us. Takers of life know no gratitude, for life is not seen in terms of gifting but only in terms of getting, a disease of a consumer society. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will inspire and guide our efforts to be, like God, gi,vers of life. The age-old prayer still speaks out our desire: "Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful." Review for Religious continues to have its own experience of life being given to us. New life continues to flow into our Advisory Board as some members finish their term of service, and new members join. We welcome Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, vice-provincial of the USA province of the Daughters of St. Paul and executive director of the twenty Pauline Book and Media Centers in the USA and English-speaking Canada. She is also the direc-tor of Paulinas Distribudora, the Daughters' Hispanic media dis-tribution center, and the director of the National Association of Pauline Cooperators, the lay collaborators of the Daughters of St. Paul. In addition we welcome Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, bishop of the diocese of Yakima, Washington. Bishop Sevilla serves as a member of the NCCB committees on Hispanic affairs and on religious life and ministry. Before his ordination as bishop, he had filled administration and formation roles in the Society of Jesus (California province). Farewells are always harder to express than welcomes. I want to express my appreciation to Father Edmundo Rodriguez SJ and to Sister Iris Ann Ledden $SND for their many contributions to the advisory board over the years of their service. We remain grateful for their continuing interest and support. David L. Fleming SJ January-Febr~,aot 1998 o o o o o o leadership SANDRA M. SCHNEIDERS Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era In addressing the issue of leadership in congregations which are increasingly influenced by the emergence of cultural postmodernism, I write not as one who is engaged in leadership or trained in the fields of organization and management, but as a theologian reflecting on the spiri-tuality of contemporary religious. But part of my prepa-ration for these reflections involved talking with a number of religious in leadership positions, asking them what were the major challenges they faced as leaders. One woman, by means of a highly symbolic vignette, epitomized what many others expressed. She said that, if one prepared an agenda for a meeting far enough ahead of time for the participants to come prepared, the first item on the agenda would be the revision of the agenda because the actual situation in the congregation would have changed so sig-nificantly that neither the items on the agenda nor their relative importance would be what they had been when the agenda was formulated. In other words, the challenges about which leaders talked were not so much specific problems but pandemic unpredictability and uncontrol-lability. While leaders face particular challenges because of Sandra M. Schneiders IHM presented this paper, here slightly revised, to the Leadership Conference of Woxnen Religious on 23 August 1997 in Rochester, New York. She is professor of New Testament Studies and Christian Spirituality at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where her address is JSTB; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709. Review for Religious their public role and more global responsibilities, the situation which makes leadership so difficult today is the same one all of us in religious life face, namely, the context of chaos within which we are trying to live religious life coherently and minister effectively. It is this peculiarly contemporary experience and its significance for spirituality that requires analysis and engagement. Whether or not we articulate it explicitly, we are always living, thinking, working within and out of some implicit worldview which defines both the problems and the potentialities of our historical situation.~ Until we come to some understanding of that world-view, we stand little chance of developing an operative spirituality. How we understand reality in general, religious life in particular, and our own congregation specifically determines what we think we are doing as religious leaders or followers. A worldview is like light or a pair of glasses. We do not notice its role in what and how we see until it flickers or gets cloudy. Furthermore, until relatively recently we were unaware of the plurality of worldviews because we thought that what we saw was simply what is, rather than what is visible through a particular set of lenses which not everyone in the world is wearing. Until the mid-sixties Catholics in general and religious in particular lived within a peculiarly schizophrenic worldview whose intrinsic con-tradictions seldom came clearly into view. Within the institution and culture of the cht~rch, we lived out of a medieval worldview in which society was organized according to an ontologically based, and therefore unchangeable, hierarchy of status and roles; in which all reality could and must be explained in the categories of an Aristotelian/Thomistic philosophy and the-ology; and in which the next world, and therefore religion, held a clear priority over the present world and its concerns. However, outside the church arena we lived out of a modern worldview in which democratic capitalism constructed an economically com-petitive society within a deceptive rhetoric of personal equality. The explanation of reality in this modern world was supplied by the confluence of the dualistic philosophy of Descartes, the mechanistic physics of Newton, the deterministic biology of Darwin, and the materia.listic hydraulics of Freudian psychology. The practical priority of this world over the afterlife was expressed in the banishing of religious concerns from public life to the pri-vate realm of family and church. Although these two worldviews, medieval and modern, were Januat3,-Februat~y 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality largely incompatible, what they had in common may be more sig-nificant for our present considerations than how they differed. Both of these worldviews presented chaos as the ultimate enemy and order as the ultimate good. It is hardly surprising, then, that we are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpre-dictability and uncontrollability of so much of our experience today. And, the more people, property, and projects we are respon-sible for, the more threatening and even paralyzing widespread chaos in our domain of responsibility is likely to be. However, as cultural critics are increasingly convinced, the modern worldview itself is rapidly giving way to what is being called postmodernirm, a worldview that is still largely inchoate and unarticulated, but which is actually conditioning our experience more deeply and extensively than we can yet appreciate.2 Characteristic of this emerging worldview is what is being called the "new science" or quantum physics,3 which is not only calling into question the adequacy of Newtonian science to explain the natural or physical world, but implying the necessity for a new, cosmologically based philosophy that sees much deeper connec-tions between matter and spirit, between humans and the rest of reality, between this world and whatever transcends it.4 Implied in the collapse of the classical dualisms is ~i revisioning of chaos and order which may open up some possibilities for reinterpreting our present experience within religious life. Although I have been reading voraciously in the new science for a while, I do not claim to understand, much less be able to explain, quantum physics. What I want to do, however, is to use a few of its basic categories, namely, autopoietic structures, fields, and strange attractors, as metaphors for thinking about contem-porary experience in religious congregations. After exploring these categories from the new science in relation to religious life, I will try to make'some suggestions that are theologically sound, spir-itually vital, and culturally plausible about our current experience of religious life and leadership. Autopoietic Structures Margaret Wheatley, in her wonderfully provocative book Leadership and the New Science, brings together new ideas from biology, chemistry, and quantum physics which are analogous in suggesting that order and chaos are not contradictories, but that Review for Religious order emerges from chaos as from its matrix,s Furthermore, con-trol is not synonymous with order nor does it produce stability. Rather, control causes a deadly immobility or stasis which ulti-mately dooms the structure to disintegration. This phenomenon of the constructive relationship between chaos and order is characteristic of living organisms. Erich Jantsch, whom Wheatley cites, describes autopoiesis as "the characteristic of liv-ing systems [by which they] continu-ously renew themselves and., regulate this process in such a way that the integrity of their structure is main-tained.'' 6 In other words, living things maintain their integrity and identity not by eliminating change, but by continu-ous, dynamic interaction with their environment. It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal! However, the history of religious life in the United States from the 19th century until Vatican II was character-ized by steadily increasing equilibrium and control and steadily decreasing interaction with the environment.7 After the chaotic pioneering days--when our founders and foundresses braved the rigors of frontier life using everything that came to hand, secular and profane included, to survive personally and institutionally-- American religious life settled into a rigidly defined and tightly controlled pattern within an increasingly battened-down eccle-siastical institution. Interchange with the environment was ever more stringently controlled and, to the extent possible, elimi-nated. We understood our congregations as Newtonian machine-like systems composed of virtually identical parts, operating according to established laws of motion codified in Rules and. customs books and functioning best when no part acted in orig-inal, that is, "singular" ways. Leaders functioned somewhat like factory managers maintaining strict control (erroneously seen as order) for the sake of spiritual and ministerial efficiency. Newtonian physics, which supplied this machine model for all systems, also gave us the laws of thermodynamics which gov-ern such systems. The second law of thermodynamics tells us that, when a system reaches equilibrium, entropy or disintegration We are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpredictability and uncontrollability of so mucl of our experience today. Janllary-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality sets in. We moderns learned that this law of increasing entropy or the inevitable wearing down of systems was also characteristic of living things (which we understood as basically very complicated machines) and certainly true of organizations such as religious congregations.8 What the new science is telling us is that social organizations are not entropic like machines, but more like living organisms, which are autopoietic, that is, self-renewing. The basis of autopoiesis or self-re-creation is the openness of organisms to their environment. As Wheatley says, Each structure has a unique identity, a clear boundary, yet it is merged with its environment . What we observe. ¯ in all living entities, are boundaries that both preserve us from and connect us to the infinite complexity of the out-side world. Autopoiesis, then, points to a different universe. Not the fragile, fragmented world we attempt to hold together, but a universe rich in processes that support growth and coherence, individuality and community.9 When we look at religious congregations of the 1950s, we see relatively hermetically sealed organizations operating accord-ing to the quantitative laws of mechanics. Numbers, material resources, institutional agencies of influence, and hierarchical control of all operations were the sources of efficiency. The cat-aclysm of Vatican II and its immediate predecessors in religious life such as the Sister Formation Movement suddenly opened these closed systems to their environment. New information of all kinds flooded the system. Sisters studied new disciplines in secu-lar as well as religious universities and interacted with a variety of people they formerly would never have encountered in any mean-ingful way. The mass media and the uncensored contents of libraries burst through the boundaries of the closed system. And then Vatican II called on congregations to reevaluate those old-world traditions which had so effectively kept religious out of the mainstream of American culture. Ministries changed dramatically and, with them, living situations. Contacts with other religious and with the laity, stringently rationed in previous times, broad-ened and deepened. In short, religious congregations suddenly drew deep breaths of fresh air and discovered that they were not ecclesiastical robots but sociospiritual organisms, living systems in vital interaction with their environment. Increasingly congregations, and their relatively uniform mem-bers, began to exhibit the characteristics of autopoietic structures. Review for Religious Perhaps the most unsettling characteristic is that a healthy liv-ing system is in a continuous state of disequilibrium. New infor-mation, constantly flowing into the system from the environment, challenges it to respond, to change, and to develop without loss of integrity or identity. There is no settling down, no way to call off the bombardment of the new and just be. There are no per-manently right answers, no one correct way to do things, no abso-lute authority. The organism is always off balance. Local chaos is the normal condition out of which global order is continuously being both threatened and resourced. Another characteristic of autopoietic structures, precisely because they are not in balance but precariously poised in the turbulence of a constantly changing ambiance, is that very small influences can have very significant effects on the system. In mechan-ical entities, significant change is usually proportionate to the mass of the influencing agents. Large groups, sizable funds, long-range plans are necessary to alter the status quo. But in a living system a small agent, for example, a virus, can have tremendous impact because it can galvanize the whole organism into response.'° The effect of one book like The Nun in the Modern World, or one speaker like Theresa Kane, is out of all proportion to the mass of the cause. One person generating negative energy can immobilize a whole assembly while one visionary chapter pro-posal can propel the whole congregation into self-renewal. A third feature of living systems is that they are programmed toward life. In this respect they are the very antithesis of the machine. Once entropy has set in, the machine inevitably and irreversibly winds down toward disintegration.11 But, even when very diminished, very endangered, the living system is mobilized toward self-renewal, toward regeneration. I think the merging of some small communities and the combining of facilities among others are examples of this salmonqike burst of upstream energy characteristic of open systems. Fourth, self-organizing systems'are bundles of competencies, "portfolios of skills," rather than collections of optimally func-tioning units,lz This feature has been ve.ry prominent in post-conciliar congregations. V~rhen individual religious or congregations decide that a particular institution or form of ministry no longer responds to the environment and they reconfigure competencies to meet new needs, it seems to me that they are manifesting an organic self-understanding, not, as some seem to think, a des- January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality perate need to' find something useful to do until the corporate lights go out. Fifth, as Wheatley says, self-r~newing systems are "structures that seem capable of maintaining an identity while changing form. They exhibit "global stability" over time even as their subsystems undergo enormous, seemingly chaotic, change. I was struck by this feature of living systems when I first saw the Great Barrier Reef, the largest organism on earth. This enormous living sys-tem has a form that makes it so distinct from its oceanic envi-ronment that it is even recognizable from the moon, and yet every cell of its vast expanse is undergoing incessant change. Most reli-gious can remember the stupendous resistance to even minor, external changes in religious congregations on the eve of Vatican II. We could hardly conceive of a maintenance of identity through incessant change, and any attempt to engage the environment seemed like a sellout to secularity. But autopoietic structures main-tain their identity precisely by changing in response to environ-mental influence. Obviously not all living systems survive, much less thrive. What determines whether an organism will successfully negotiate what Wheatley calls the "bifurcation point" where the choice between death and transformation occurs? ~4 Wheatley maintains that the deciding factor is what she calls the principle of "self-ref-erence." Healthy organisms do not change randomly or in any and all directions. Rather, they change in ways that are both respon-sive to the environment arid consistent with their own already established identity. A firmly established identity makes the organ-ism both responsive and resilient, both dialogical and autonomous. Whereas a static system constructs external boundaries, fences designed to keep out the influence of the environment and hold the assemblage of units together, the healthy organism develops organic boundaries which make it increasingly autonomous in relation to external pressures even as it remains deeply involved in the ongoing process of iriterchange. Unlike a fence which sim-ply walls out the "other," the organic surface of the Great Barrier Reef is both a resource for relationship with the environment and a self-defining boundary. "Self-reference is what facilitates orderly change in turbulent environments.''~5 This raises directly the question of identity. If religious life itself, religious congregations, and individual religious are open, autopoietic systems whose incessant interaction with the envi- Review for Religious ronment is governed by the principle of self-reference, that is, fidelity to core identity in the midst of continual disequilibrium, what establishes that identity? How is it recognized and main-tained? Fields To begin to get some purchase on this issue, I want to intro-duce a second metaphor from the new science, the familiar but mysterious category of "field." Religious life has always involved the creation by some Christians, "religious virtuosi" in the ter-minology of sociologist Patricia Wittberg,'6 of an alternative "world" within which to live their faith, whether that was a sociologi-cal, geographical, or institutional reality construction.~7 The expres-sion so often used for entering reli-gious life, namely, "leaving the world," was a negative articulation of the positive act of choosing an alternative arena for one's life. Today, speaking of entering reli-gious life as "leaving the world" is so probleinatic as to be counterpro-ductive. Nevertheless, there is something about religious life which distinguishes it from other forms of life. It has an identity. Like the Great Barrier Reef, it stands out from its cultural and ecclesiastical environment even while being involved in continu-ous interchange with it. Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life than the quasi-geo-graphical one of alternative world is the category of "fields." Science has made us aware that reality is composed not pri-marily of substances but of space. Space, however, is not empty. Rather, "space everywhere is now thought to be filled with fields, invisible, non-material structures that are the basic substance of the universe."ls Fields are invisible geometries structuring space, invisible media of connection bringing matter an&or energy into form. We cannot see fields any more than we can see space, but we can observe the effects of fields on that which comes within their influence. We have all seen this mysterious phenomenon in operation when iron filings come within the field of magnetic Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life is the category of "fields." January-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality influence and arrange themselves in certain patterns. Wheatley hypothesizes that personal and corporate space is also filled with fields, both positive and negative, and that, when the personal fields of the people in an organization intersect with the corpo-rate fields of the organization itself, certain predictable behav-iors are manifest. I find this metaphor very descriptive of a frequently experi-enced phenomenon, namely, that the same people behave very differently in situations which do not, exteriorly, differ notice-ably. Something "in the air" (or, perhaps more accurately, "in the space") affects them, for good or ill, and often everyone in the situation is similarly affected. We sometimes call it morale, or good or bad energy, or social climate. Sometimes we even speak of being "in good or bad space." We also know that an individual who is personally "in bad space" either can be pulled out of it by entering positive corporate space or can cause positive space to curdle. Social space, in our experience, seems to be really invisi-bly structured. Perhaps this metaphor of fields could help illuminate the issues of corporate and personal identity that religious have strug-gled with for years under the rubrics of "charism" and "vocation" and their intersection in the mysterious corporate identity prin-ciple called the "spirit of the congregation." Probably the only thing we have agreed on in regard to charism is that it is a mys-terious something that generates a certain recognizable congre-gational identity. Some have tried to equate it with the congregation's traditional ministry, or to identify it as a grace given to the foundress which was somehow passed on to later members, or to find it embodied in a characteristic spirituality. None of these explanations has proved very satisfactory, and all fail in relation to one or another congregation. Wheatley suggests that social fields are generated as people converse, share their visions and hopes, work out their problems, develop modes of interacting, participate in common projects, elaborate symbols and myths to articulate their shared identity and experience?9 In other words, groups create or generate fields. When coherent fields are generated in corporate space, people are drawn together; they begin to act in corporate ways. Eventually the group ethos can be recognized in the members. This sounds very much like what we mean by charism, an invis-ible structuring of corpor.ate space which manifests itself in the Review for Religious indefinable "something common" that is visible in the attitudes and behaviors of all the members. Furthermore, fields, once gen-erated, can outlast the individuals or groups that generated them. Perhaps what comes down through history from our foundations is not some work, set of rules, or uniform spirituality to which new members must conform, but a structured shared space that continues to give common form to ever new energy coming into the congregation in new members. When a new individual comes into this space, her own per-sonal fields intersect with the corporate fields of the congregation and the person is either drawn into and ener-gized by this cgrporate space or not. If vocation were understood as a certain constellation of overlapping fields in an individual personality's inner space, structuring that person's energy and behavior, her entering a congregation would involve the intersection of her personal vocational field with the fields of the particular congregation, especially its charism. Vocational discernment could be understood, then, as try-ing to discover if her personal fields and the congregation's corporate fields are mutually compatible and enriching or not. When the fields that structure the inner space of an individual (that is, her own voca-tion or life call) intersect creatively and har-moniously with the fields that structure the corporate space of a congregation (that is, its charism and other characteristic fea-tures), we often say that the person has "the spirit of the congre-gation." When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Perhaps what we mean by the spirit of the congregation is the global identity of the group as it manifests itself within the complex of fields that invisibly but really structures the personal into the cor-porate. 2° To use this field metaphor for understanding charism, voca-tion, and the spirit of the congregation does not reduce these realities to the purely natural any more than accounting for the universe by the theory of the "big bang" or for human emergence by evolution denies the divine role in creation. The metaphor simply offers us a more organic way of understanding the human When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality experience of stable and shared congregational identity in the midst of incessant change. It also provides a possible answer to the question about self-reference as the key to coherence for an open, autopoietic sys-tem experiencing continuous life-giving disequilibrium. In a sense, nothing observable in the congregation remains the same--type of ministry, horarium and content of spiritual exercises, commu-nity lifestyle, dress codes, financial practices, patterns ~of inter-acting-- but the field, the spirit of the congregation, in which all the change takes place can account for the ever new order which arises out of the seemingly chaotic pluralism and incessant vari-ation that characterize the community's day-to-day life over time. The Strange Attractor A third possibly illuminating metaphor, drawn from the new science, is that of the "strange attractor," a simple example of which many of us have seen as the computer screen saver of inces-santly changing lines and curves which maintain a moving form that is never repeated. Wheatley says this about the "strange attractor": Chaos theory has given us images of "strange attractors"-- computer pictures of swirling motion that trace the evolu-tion of a system. A system is defined as chaotic when it becomes impossible to know where it will be next. There is no predictability; the system never is in the same place twice. But as chaos theory shows, if we look at such a sys-tem long enough and with the perspective of time, it always demonstrates its inherent orderliness. The most chaotic of systems never goes beyond certain boundaries; it stays con-tained within a shape that we can recognize as the system's strange attractor . '~ This description seems very pertinent to the history of religious life, not to mention that of individual congregations. Religious life has undergone so much movement, so much deep-level change, that it is indeed impossible to know where it will be next. It is never in the same place twice. At times it seems to be in total disarray. And yet, over its nearly two-thousand-year history, it demonstrates a moving pattern which makes it recognizable, distinguishable against the background field of ecclesial life. What, we may ask, is the strange attractor of religious life? A strange attractor is a basin for the system's activity that Review for Religious pulls all activity within the system into a form or shape but with-out immobilizing the system or reducing its inner variety to pre-dictability. The strange attractor itself is not visible. It manifests itself by its power to allow a few simple "instructions," for exam-ple, equations, to repeat and intersect as they feed back upon themselves in an infinite variety of ways so that these iterations create analogous forms at finer and finer levels. These forms are what we call fractals, repetitions at various levels of scale that manifest the whole in each part. Our most homely example is probably a head of broccoli in which each flowerette, down to the tiniest, repeats the pattern of the whole head. But we can see it also in the computer image of lines and curves, or in the clouds, or in a branch of fern. VVheatley was moved to ask the question about the strange attractor when she observed that, in terminally dysfunctional sys-tems verging on collapse, where almost everyone had psycholog-ically abandoned ship and survival had become the only agenda, there were some individuals within the dysfunctional system who continued to be personally centered, creative, and productive. Amid corporate disintegration, personal order. She also observed--in healthy organizations which allowed maximum autonomy, even seeming chaos, at the local level--that the seem-ingly chaotic variety at the local level did not lead to disintegra-tion, but to a kind of global order and stability. Out of local chaos, global order. Somehow the creative individuals in the disinte-grating systems and the healthy organizations permitting high levels of local autonomy were pulled into coherence as if a strange attractor were at work. Her highly suggestive conclusion is that the strange attractor in both cases is meaning generated by a "frame of reference," that is, a coherent vision and pattern of val-ues, which gives direction to all the seemingly disparate activity. Meaning, vision, values, however, are formal categories. What vision, what values, what meaning might be the strange attractor of religious life that accounts for its self-identity and coherence, its fractal wholeness and beauty, through nearly two millennia of chaotic movement in an often dysfunctional church?22 More importantly, is the strange attractor still at work, still generating a recognizable lifeform today in what might be one of the most chaotic periods of development in the history of religious life? Are there a few "equations" that have iterated throughout these two millennia in thousands of different fractal realizations man- January-February 1998 Schneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality ifesting the strange attractor that keeps this lifeform coherent and true to itself?. From the time of the lst-century virgins until it was pro-claimed anew by Vatican II, the basic principle, the fundamental "equation," has been that religious life is essentially gospel life. The pattern of the life has been the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, perhaps the ultimate instance of order out of chaos, that is, life out of death. Of course, religious life shares this deter-mining equation with all Christian life. But religious life has also always been distinguished from lay Christian life by the particu-lar way religious have entered into the paschal mystery of Christ, by the specifically religious "equation," namely, by the life of con-secrated celibacy lived in community and mission. The strange attractor of religious life, then, may be a partic-ular kind of gospel-based relationship with Jesus Christ, expressed in freely chosen lifelong celibacy, lived in community and mis-sion, that has generated a lifeform which is distinct and recog-nizable despite enormous variety. It has reinvented itself endlessly, but from a distance and over time we can note the repeated pat-terns, its fractal wholeness. The effect of the strange attractor is a global stability and self-identity through incessant change, a particular and recognizable order out of chaos. Christian Spirituality and Congregational Leadership If these metaphors .drawn from the new science--that is, the congregation as an open and autopoietic system invisibly structured by the corporate fields that manifest in the spirit of the congre-gation within the shaping influence of the strange attractor of celi-bate living of the Gospel in community and mission--are illuminating of our current experience of religious life in our par-ticular congregations, we can ask what light they throw on the problematic of leadership. Does such a postmodern model of reli-gious life based on metaphors drawn from the new science suggest anything helpful in understanding what leadership in such sys-tems might mean today? Obviously, the image of the leader as manager whose task is to minimize disequilibrium by control of all personnel, policy, and practice is obsolete. But probably the image of the leader as the lone visionary who boldly imagines and projects goals to gal-vanize the membership toward the future is also obsolete. This is Review for Religious not because care of the community and corporate vision are not as important today as they have always been, but because we increasingly realize that they are the shared responsibility of the entire congregation.23 What is characteristic of the context of leadership today is that the kinds of systems over which leaders preside are situations which are not only uncontrollable in fact, but chaotic in principle. Chaos is the system's "steady state." Whatever leaders do today, it cannot be imagined realistically as merely the direction of reliable resources toward clearly perceived objec-tives. It has to have something to do with the creative potential of chaos itself. Even while managing the modern social systems that our congregations, at one level, certainly are, leaders are chal-lenged to engage the deep dynamics of meaning in the increasingly postmodern systems that we are becoming. It seems to me that religious life today is at the bifurcation point between death and transformation, between entropy and self-renewal, and therefore that the responsibility of leaders in relation to the deep dynamics of meaning has to do with the prin-ciple of self-reference which Wheatley identifies as the most impor-tant single determinant of self-renewal in autopoietic structures.24 The science of autopoietic systems suggests that, if the congre-gation (or religious life as a lifeform) is true to itself, in touch with and living out of its own identity, it will continue to renew itself even in the face of the massive material and ecclesiastical challenges of this historical period. If it is the case that the iden-tity of religious life lies in the celibate living of the gospel in com-munity and mission within the spirit of the particular congregation, we are at the heart of the issue. And the issue is faith. In what follows I am relying heavily on a remarkable 1995 study by a British theologian, Denys Turner, of the apophatic ele-ment in the Christian mystical tradition.2s In this book Turner is dealing with what I suspect is the most challenging issue for all of us in religious life today, but perhaps especially for those charged with the care of the community as a whole, namely, the mean-ing, reality, and integrity of Christian faith today. Religious life is fundamentally a faith reality, and the faith in question is not simply a generalized conviction that there is more to reality than meets the eye. Christian faith is both an unthe-matized openness to the ineffable Divine Mystery that has no name and a thematized participation in a particular religious tra- t--!-9- January-Februa~3~ 1998 Scisneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality 20 dition which believes that this Holy Mystery is both revealed and encountered in Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead whose life is communicated to us in and through the gift of his Holy Spirit within the community called church. A major question today for Christians, including religious, and especially women, is whether these two aspects of faith, unthematized openness to Divine Mystery (which is not necessarily Christian) and thematic adher-ence to a particular religious tradition (namely, Christianity), are or need necessarily be related and, if they are related, how that can be personally experienced and authentically lived. Many postmodern Christians are caught in an experiential disjunction between their God-experience on the one hand and, on the other, their participation in the particular faith tradition, that is, the religion, within which they were initiated into that God-experience and which still claims to mediate it. In other words, there is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. This may be partially due to the sudden (at least historically speaking) reversal of our evaluation of the role of experience in spirituality that coincided with the upheavals in religion of the conciliar era. Let me trace this development in broad strokes. For several centuries Christians were educated to discount feeling in the practice of religion in favor of a kind of blind faith and naked exercise of will. It was not the person who believed but the intellect; not the person who loved but the will. The body with its emotions was that which had to be overcome and sub-jected in order for the soul to seek God. This approach to the spiritual life, which effectively reduced spirituality to religious practice, was seriously challenged by at least three developments in the middle of this century. First, for all kinds of reasons that were psychological and cul-tural as well as theological, the radical wholeness of the human person began to resurface, and many believers began to reclaim the importance, perhaps even priority, of feeling in religious prac-tice. Retreat directors learned to ask people how they felt, not what they thought. Retreatants learned to be attentive to subjec-tive states of consolation .and desolation. Discernment began to take into account the person's felt response to alternative possi-bilities. Rather than considering felt religious experience unreli-able or even suspect, people began to consider it the touchstone, even the essence, of genuine spirituality. Desiring such experi- Review for Religious ence, seeking it, trusting it, living from it was no longer an aber-ration but the norm. Second, the feminist movement took hold among Catholic women, and its analysis of patriarchy enabled women to name and claim their experience of oppression in the church and to trace ecclesiastical sexism to its theological roots in Scripture and tradition. Women's experience of the Catholic religious tradition became laced with negative feeling just as they were learning that feeling was not irrelevant, but a valid and important indicator of the real. Many concluded that, if Catholic religion feels deeply alienating, Catholic spirituality may be highly suspect. Third, Catholics, for the first time, came into meaningful appreciative contact with non-Christian religious traditions where they encountered spiritualities that counteracted some of the very aspects of Christianity that were becoming increasingly problematic. The nature-affirming rituals of native American spirituality countered the overcerebral otherworldliness of traditional Catholic wor-ship. The nondualistic, nondogmatic meditation practices of Eastern mystical traditions offered an attractive alternative to the rationalistic and mechanical prayer practices of ordinary Catholic piety. Thus, at the very time that experience was becoming the touchstone of truth in the sphere of religion, both negative and positive experiences in the realm of spirituality converged to undermine adherence to the Roman Catholic Christian tradition. This has led some, perhaps many, religious to seriously question whether Catholic Christianity offers an adequate, much less a preferable, access to Holy Mystery or compelling motivation for ministry. For many the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male; the focus on Jesus Christ seems narrow and exclusive; the resurrection seems mythological if not incred-ible and, in any case, irrelevant to a world in anguish; the insti-tutional church seems hopelessly medieval, sexist, and clerical; liturgy is alienating; morality is out of touch with reality; and church ministry is a continual battle with male hostility and power There is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. Januao~-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality dynamics. Spirituality centered in personal experience was increas-ingly engrossing while religion, especially the Catholic religion, was increasingly alienating. After a certain amount of experimentation, many religious have settled into a kind of personal, often highly eclectic, spiri-tuality within the context of a nominal Christianity whose central tenets and practices are of little practical import in their lives. Their God may no longer be the God of Jesus Christ, but a non-personal, benevolent cosmic energy holding reality together in some mysterious way. Jesus may have been consigned to history as one of many prophetic figures whose memory remains moti-vating although they themselves are long dead. The Bible may no longer be, for them, revelatory or normative Scripture, but one religious classic among others. Christian sacraments may be quarries of symbolic elements which can be combined with anal-ogous elements from other traditions in the formulation of mean-ingful rituals. Prayer may be any practice from listening to music, to Zen sitting or Tai Chi, to hiking or massage which is calming and focusing and helps one keep a balance in a crazy world. In religious communities the effect of these developments in spirituality is profoundly disintegrative. It can no longer be taken for granted that the members share the same faith, a serious sit-uation for a lifeform which is based not only on faith but specif-ically on Christian faith. Members for whom Christian faith remains normative may hesitate to speak in explicitly Christian terms lest they be branded reactionary or dismissed as out of. touch with contemporary reality, while post-Christian or selec-tively Christian members may hesitate to voice their spirituality lest they shock their hearers or find themselves branded as heretics. Christian liturgical celebration at congregational events is sometimes so divisive as to be impossible. Nevertheless, wherever they are on the Christian map, reli-gious women continue to be resolutely religious, seeking God in disciplined spiritual practice, making retreats, engaging seriously in spiritual direction, reading widely and deeply in theology and spirituality, attending workshops and renewal programs. Those religious who have survived the postconciliar exodus and are still committed to both community and ministry are not indifferent to the God quest that brought them to religious life in the first place. This is the point at which the disjuncture between spirituality which is a matter of passionate concern and religion which is a Review for Religious locus of struggle and alienation is apparent; and, in my opinion, this may be the bifurcation point at which the choice between death and transformation is going to be made. We cannot afford to ignore this situation or pretend it does not really matter as long as people are sincere and committed. What is in jeopardy is not control but self-reference, the con-gregation's response to its strange attrac-tor, that is, to religious life itself as a faith reality. It seems to me that what many reli-gious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to find God in a kind of personal mystical quest that bypasses what are experienced as the superficiali-ties and hypocrisies, and even the vio-lence, of the official structures of institutional Catholic Christianity. In par-ticular, many are trying to find in the Christian mystical tradi-tion itself guidance for developing an apophatic or nonthematic contemplative spirituality that is experientially satisfying and moti-vating, but that bypasses the concreteness of the Christian cat-aphatic tradition with its specifically religious beliefs, liturgy, and practice. In short, it is an attempt to develop a spirituality with-out religion. Denys Turner wrote his treatise on the Christian mystical tradition, The Darkness of God, as a challenge to this contemporary development, which he calls spiritual "experientialism" and which he sees as widespread among Christians in general. Turner regards this experientialism as a kind of modernist positivism in the arena of spirituality. In other words, felt religious experience has become the "hard data" of authentic spirituality analogous to the observ-able results of laboratory experiments in modern science or the quantifiable data of sociological surveys. Personal experience has become the nonnegotiable criterion of validity in the arena of faith.26 The practice of contemplation, yielding direct experience of either the delightful presence or the painful absence of Holy Mystery, has become for many the sufficient, if mir~imal, structure, content, and dynamics of their spirituality, augmented perhaps by a symbolic and ritual eclecticism that draws from various reli-gious and nonreligious traditions. This experience of Holy Mystery is believed to be "apophatic," that is, unencumbered by What many religious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to develop a spirituality without religion. January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality specific religious doctrines, images, symbols, liturgical traditions, and so on. Against this misguided turn to experience Turner maintains, with impressive support from the data of the tradition, that there is no such thing as "apophatic experience." This is a contradiction in terms. The experience of the absence of God is just as much an experience, that is, just as cataphatic, as is the experience of God's presence even though it might be less enjoyable. It is the quest for mystical experience itself, and especially reliance upon it as the touchstone of faith, which is the problem, Turner maintains. Furthermore, following Bernard McGinn, Turner points out that no one who is serious about the God quest, especially not the mys-tics (at least not until very recent times), attempts to "practice mys-ticism." People practice Christianity or Buddhism or Judaism.27 The mystical is a moment in the practice of these traditions, but there is no freestanding mysticism or pure apophatic practice. The development of this kind of experience-oriented, reli-giously decontextualized spirituality has been encouraged in recent years by a tendency in popular books on spirituality to talk of an apophatic and a cataphatic "way" as if there were two types of spirituality, one of which, the cataphatic, proceeds through the use of the theological symbols, images, rituals, and practices of a religious tradition and one of which, the apophatic, makes no use of these "externals" and reaches directly to the Divine Mystery that transcends all human institutions.28 Furthermore, there has been a tendency to suggest that these "ways" are a matter of per-sonal choice and so one might decide to bypass the cataphatic and plunge into the darkness of the apophatic way, where God would be met in pure spiritual nakedness. There has been much talk of foolproof methods by which to achieve mystical empti-ness and union, often without or before any serious ascetical train-ing, theological formation, or liturgical involvement. What Turner exposes is the basic fallacy of this whole "expe-rientialist" turn in spirituality. All spirituality, insofar as it can be practiced or pursued, is cataphatic, and all religious experience is by definition cataphatic. The apophatic is not a "way" or a "prac-tice," much less a kind of "experience." It is a moment of negativity, of nonexperience, at the heart of genuine, ordinary religious faith and practice. This moment is, by definition, not something one can experience at all. The apophatic or mystical is precisely the neg-ativity, the total darkness which cannot itself be seen or felt. It is Review for Religious the absence of experience, the "hole" at the heart of religious expe-rience, the place of the Holy Mystery Which is utterly beyond our experiencing, attainment, knowing, or naming. Mysticism is not negative (or positive) religious experience, says Turner, but the negativity of all religious experience.2Vlf I can experience it at all, it is not God in Godself that I am experiencing. If Turner is right, this attempt to bypass religious practice of the Christian tradition in search of some direct experience of the Holy Mystery is wrongheaded and futile, and it can end only in self-delusion of the kind pilloried by the author of The Cloud of Unknowing.3°Insofar as the apophatic moment occurs, it is abso-lutely nonexperienceable and hidden. And it occurs only within the cataphatic context of resolutely faithful Christian practice, which may at times overflow in the exaltation of spiritual peak experiences or generate the psychologically devastating suffering of the "dark night" described by John of the Cross. But, as all the mystics have maintained, such graces of light or darkness are neither the content nor the criterion of genuine spirituality. As Turner says, the deformations of the "experientialist" derive . . . from the error of understanding that which is a "moment" of reserve, of denial and unknowing within worship, prayer and sacrament as if it were a rival practice which displaces that Christian ordinariness. "Experientialism" in its most extreme forms is therefore the displacement of a sense of the negativity of all religious experience with the pursuit of some goal of achieving negative experiences.3~ In other words, a purely mystical spirituality is not a viable alternative to full participation in the religious tradition. The mystical, insofar as it is spiritually significant and transformative (as opposed to momentary experiences of oceanic bliss which may be caused by any number of stimuli from drugs to trance) is available only within some ongoing, ordinary, everyday cataphatic practice. The alternative to being imprisoned within the rigidities of an overmaterialized tradition is not the flight into a disembodied, decontextualized, and individualistic pseudomysticism. The deeply interior life of the serious postmodern Christian requires the shaping influence of a tradition worked out over centuries by saints and scholars, mystics and martyrs, even as the tradition itself requires the critical challenge of its postmodern adherents, whose new insights into reality must refine the tradition of its historical dross. 25 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadersbip and Spirituality Let us return now to the framework of meaning that has sup-plied us with the important principle of self-reference. If the focus of self-reference of religious congregations and their members is the gospel-based celibate living of the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ in community and mission within the spirit of the partic-ular congregation, and if the self-renewal and continued flour-ishing of religious life and the particular congregation depend on this self-reference, then nothing is more important than the authenticity of the spirituality of religious. Obviously, people can form and live community and altruis-tically serve others without being either Christian or Catholic. And a religious congregation can certainly transform itself into such a community of life and service, leaving behind its specifically Catholic identity and affirming whatever religious affiliation, or lack thereof, its individual members espouse. That is, it can cease to be a religious congregation and continue as an intentional com-munity with or without religious roots?2 My concern is with con-gregations which have not, or not yet, made that choice, but are struggling to maintain their Catholic Christian identity in a highly dysfunctional ecclesiastical context. For such communities the quiet sidelining of Christian identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation. And perhaps the most impor-tant task of leadership in such congregations is helping the congregation to negotiate the moment of bifurcation between congregational death through the abandonment of that identity and congregational transformation through the critical reappro-priation of its Christian identity. There can be no question, in a postmodern context, of deal-ing with this issue by fiat. The present state of spirituality in many religious congregations is highly chaotic, and attempting to abol-ish chaos by control is, as we have seen, the kiss of death. Hope lies not in the exercise of coercive power, but in the realization that the current disequilibrium is potentially far more creative than the kind of static uniformity that prevailed in the spiritual-ity of most preconciliar communities. But how do leaders facilitate the emergence of new spiritual order from religious chaos? The analogies from the new science suggest several possible leads. First, a climate has to be created in which divergent theological views and spiritual practices can rise to visibility and articulation and be seriously and respectfully Review for Religious engaged. The unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that could cause dissension and not to use any ritual with which someone might be uncomfortable--and to substitute therapeutic methods and organizational techniques for theological engage-ment with controversies in the area of faith--is analogous to main-taining tight managerial control in a dysfunctional organization. The upheaval in spirituality at the individual and local level needs to be articulated, recognized, and owned. Within it lies the poten-tial, not for a restoration of preconciliar uniformity of doctrine and practice, but for a self-renewing reclaiming of the tradition in very new, perhaps even startlingly new, forms. Any Christian!ty that can be relevant and life-giving in a postmodern context is simply not going to look like, or be like, the Catholicism of the Middle Ages or even of the 1950s. Second, the basic framework of meaning needs to be reartic-ulated, but in ways that take seriously the problems which have led to its practical collapse. This basic framework is the gospel in all its depth and breadth, and that means the theological and litur-gical, moral and socially transformative riches of the Christian tradition in dialogue with the postmodern culture emerging in our time. The Christian tradition that has become alienating for so many is not the gospel itself, but the moribund formulations of post-Tridentine Vatican institutionalism. The extraordinary response of so many, especially women religious, to the work of theologians like Elizabeth Johnson and Catherine LaCugna, bib-lical scholars like Carolyn Osiek and Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza, liturgists like Mary Catherine Hilkert, ecumenists like Rosemary Radford Ruether, moral theologians like Lisa Sowle Cahill, and scholars of spirituality like Constance FitzGerald and Joann Wolski Conn--along with the rediscovery of the Christian mys-tics themselves--suggests that the tradition has the potential to be reappropriated and renewed in feminist, ecological, and pluralis-tic patterns if the meeting between the postmodern religious and contemporary theology can be facilitated. A system converts local chaos to global order by the infusion of new information which can be appropriated within a coherent frame of reference. Access to theological resources and also deep engagement with the new science, feminist thought and practice, and ecological and social theory by all the members of a congregation would seem to be an absolute requirement for the development of an authentic post-modern Catholic Christian spirituality that would be adequate Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirit~tality for religious life in the 21st century. If religious develop such a spirituality, we can expect resistance from the official exercisers of institutional control. But, if religious fail to develop such a spir-ituality, we can expect religious congregations to disintegrate from within as their spirituality unravels and becomes a tangle of idiosyncratic and individualistic syncretisms. Third, the interaction between the whole and the parts has to be facilitated so that what is emerging in the spirituality of the members appears in a corporate spirituality that breaks the ver-bal and ritual silence at the global level and also transforms the global frame of reference itself so that it is not a religious strait-jacket but a flexible focus of self-reference. In preconciliar days. most communities had a repertoire of symbols, myths, celebra-tions, and ceremonies which integrated the spirituality of the individual members with the spirituality of the congregation. How can we experience this local-to-global articulation today? The order at the global level, which is not dogmatic uniformity but deep unity in shared faith and spirituality, can be authentic only if it emerges from the lived variety and ferment at the local level, among the individuals and groups that make up the community. In recent years some congregations have begun processes of getting religiously sensitive issues out on the table and seeking ways to bring theological resources into dialogue with personal religious experience in the context of open sharing of faith. This is very risky business. But in many cases it has resulted in unusual experiences of renewal of the spirit of the community. Perhaps, having negotiated so many of the more "external" issues of lifestyle and even ministry, many religious are eager, even if fearful, to engage the deeper issues of faith, religious identity, and spiritu-ality. Congregational leadership may be challenged today to take the initiative in helping the congregation address the fundamen-tal issue of Catholic faith and spirituality, that is, the issue of identity and self-reference. Conclusion Let me briefly summarize and conclude. What leadership means and how it is exercised depends essentially on how one understands the social system one is leading. I have tried to sug-gest that the quasi-mechanical modern model of the religious congregation is giving way to an organic postmodern model of Review for Religious community. I have explored a few features of this new model, namely, the conception of the community itself as an autopoietic or self-renewing organic structure; the category of fields as a way of un.derstanding the unifying forces of charism, vocation, and the spirit of the congregation; and the strange attractor as a way of understanding the quintessential role of the gospel lived in consecrated celibacy in community and mission as the principle of self-reference of religious life. I then tried to suggest that the role of leadership today may be neither primarily social maintenance nor ministerial goal set-ting, but the facilitation of the congregation's self-renewing pro-cess through attention to its core identity, its framework of meaning. This framework of meaning is not a uniform religiosity nor a particular type of ministry. It is Christian paschal spiritual-ity, rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, lived celibately in com-munity and mission, a spirituality which cannot bypass the Christian theological, liturgical, moral, and socially transforma-tive tradition within the believing community we call church. But in a postmodern context such spirituality cannot be leg-islated or enforced. Nor are leaders, in all probability, any less caught up in doubt, alienation, and theological-religious confusion than the other members of their congregations. What we ask of our leaders today is not that they supply us with the correct answers, or even that they pi6neer the road to the future, but that they mediate the creative interchange between local and global levels, helping us to own the real questions and search honestly, together, for appropriate responses, and thus facilitate the life-giving interaction between the religious congregation and the real world in which we live and minister. When Peter, that first leader of the Christian community, asked Jesus for a clear fix on church order and ministry by inquiring what role his apparent rival, the Beloved Disciple, was to have, Jesus replied, "That's not your problem. What you need to do is follow me," that is, become a beloved disciple and thereby become capable of the ministry to which you are called. Perhaps for all of us, leaders and followers, it is both that simple and that difficult. Notes ~ On this issue of the i~nportance of worldview and the character of the emerging worldview with which I am concerned in this paper, see the very provocative thesis of Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self." Human Nature and Consciousv~ess Defined by the Januao,-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990), esp. pp. 231-237. 2 For a comprehensible introduction to the notion of postmodernity in the context of Christian faith, see James B. Miller, "The Emerging Postmodern World," in Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World, ed. Frederic B. Burnham (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989), pp. 1-19, or Douglas C. Bowman, Beyond the Modern Mind: The Spiritual and Ethical Challenge of the Environmental Crisis (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1990). The SUNY Series in Constructive Postmodern Thought, edited by David Ray Griffin, and published in Albany, New York by the State University of New York Press, includes several volumes of essays repre-senting most of the preeminent writers attempting to relate Christianity and its concerns to the postmodern worldview. For a powerful presenta-tion of secular postmodernity, see Albert Borgmann, Crossing the Postmodern Divide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992). 3 My primary resources in trying to understand this new approach to reality have been the following: Heinz Pagels, The Coswtic Code: Quantum Physics as the Language of Nature (New York: Bantam Books, 1983); David S. Toolan, "Praying in a Post-Einsteinian Universe," Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 437-470; Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organization from an Orderly Universe (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1992); Margaret J. Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Rogers,/t Simpler Way (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1996); Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990). 4 Zohar, The Quantum Self, p. 234, speaks of the new worldview chal-lenging the modernist dualisms which split subject and object (mind and body), individual from relationships, and culture from nature. This is a slightly different focus on what I am talking about in more humanis-tic/ religious terms. 5 Specifically, Wheadey relies on the thought about living systems of Erich Jantsch, The Self-Organizing Universe (Oxford: Pergamon, 1980); the treatment of chemical reality of Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Order out of Chaos (New York: Bantam, 1984); the work of quantum physi-cists on strange attractors as explained by James Gleick in Chaos: Making a New Science (New York: Viking, 1987). 6 Cited in Wheatley, Leadership, p. 18. 7 Much of the following description of U.S. religious life from the 1800s until Vatican II is well illustrated in the volume, coauthored by a team of IHM sisters, Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, ed. Margaret Susan Thompson (Syracuse: University Press, 1997). 8 It is interesting that sociological theory of organizations has .applied these Newtonian principles to social systems, leading theorists like Helen Rose E Ebaugh, in Women in the Vanishing Cloister: Organizational Decline in Catholic Religious Orders in the United States (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1993), to confidently predict the immi- Review for Religious nent demise of religious life, not because the spirituality of religious has died, but because the organizations seem to have lost their niche in the social, economic, and occupational machinery. If I understand Wheatley's thesis, she is convinced that the mechanistic understanding of organiza-tions that underlies much organizational and management theory is inap-propriate to the kind of entity such organizations are. I think Wheatley's thesis is applicable to religious life in general and religious congrega-tions in particular. 9Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 18-19. 10 Wheattey, Leadership, pp. 95-96, treats this feature. ~' When I hear religious wearily predicting the demise of their con-gregations as simply inevitable since decline in one or more areas seems to have set in and, in the long run, decline cannot be arrested or reversed, I am struck by the mechanistic character of their image of religious con-gregations. ,2 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 93. 13 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 90, italics mine. 14 Before reading Wheatley, who uses this very expression, "death or transformation," in relation to living organisms, I was looking at this same phenomenon in religious life in terms of the mystical tradition, the "bifurcation point" represented by the "dark night." See Sandra M. Schneiders, "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. is Wheatley, Leadership, p. 94. 16 See Patricia Wittberg, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1996), pp. 19-31, for her very enlighten-ing treatment of the sociological category of the "religious virtuoso" as a descriptive of religious. Peter Brown, in The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), p. 58, refers to the lst- and 2nd-century virgins, the original religious, as "virtuoso practitioners of continence." 17 In the earliest period of church life, the choice of lifelong virgin-ity created an alternative to the sociological givens of society in the 1st century of the Christian era. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the desert ascetics moved geographically out of the overacculturated church of late antiquity. In the Middle Ages cenobitic monasticism was an institutional alternative to life in the cities. The "leaving the world" motif continued in the closed lifestyles of apostolic religious congregations right up to Vatican II. 18 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 48. 19 See esp. Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 52-54. 201 think this dynamic metaphor fnight have some potential for dis-cussions of the issues of belonging and membership. For example, if every individual is a distinct constellation of overlapping and intersecting fields (family, personal friends, professional associations, ministerial involve-ments, and so forth) which structure her personal identity and which 3I Janua~y-Febt'uaty 1998 . 32 Scbneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality intersect with the fields of other members and the corporate constellation of fields of the congregation, we have to expect that ways of belonging and participating in community life are going to be very diverse and that this need not lead to disintegration. Likewise, there may be significant but not determining intersection between the field of some person and the congregational field,, leading to a considerable sense of"belonging" on the part of this person who, nev-ertheless, does not feel called to become a member in the full sense of the word. 2, Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 20-21. 22 The amount of chaos within religious life and the sometimes over-whelmingly dysfunctional character of the ecclesiastical settings in which the life survived and even thrived over the centuries is strikingly chron-icled by Jo Ann Kay McNamara in Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). 23 1 do not mean to suggest that leadership does not play a special role in maintenance and mission. In fact, I suspect leadership in these arenas is even more important today than it was in the recent past when eccle-siastical control dictated virtually all major decisions about mission and stable financial procedures and reliable resources assured maintenance. I want to suggest, however, that these functions, although facilitated by leadership, are largely handled by specialists or by congregational struc-tures that do not depend exclusively on leaders. 24 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 146: "More than any other science prin-ciple I've encountered, self-reference strikes me as the most important. ¯ . . As an operating principle, it decisively separates living organisms from machines." 2s Denys Turner, The Darkness of God: Negativity in Christian MystMsm (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). 26 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 262. Turner says (p. 259): "Experientialism is. the 'positivism' of Christian spirituality. It abhors the experiential vacuum of the apophatic, rushing to fill it with the plenum of the psychologistic." 27 Turner, Darkness of God, pp. 260-261; he cites Bernard McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of VVestern Christian MystMsm, Vol. 1 (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. xvi. Turner does not actually agree with McGinn about the role of experience in mysticism, but he does agree with him that, until the present century, tnysticism was not isolated from religious traditions but an element within the,n. 2s Mthough there is much of value in Diarmuid O'Murchu's latest book, Quantum Theology (New York: Crossroad, 1997), I have serious hesitations about his facile dismissal of .religion as a dispensable human invention (see esp. pp. 7-12). He is right to point out the distinction between spirituality, religion, and theology, but I doubt that the direct leap from spirituality to theology is possible because, while the categories of theology can be enriched by science, I doubt that they can be supplied Review for Religious without recourse to sacred texts and liturgical ritual. It is indeed part of the function of theology to purify religion of its excesses; but it is also part of the function of religious tradition to criticize theology. 29 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3o See the caustic description in chaps. 52-53 of The Cloud of Unknowing (The Classics of \Vestern Spirituality), ed. James Walsh (New York/Ramsey/Toronto: Paulist Press, 1981), pp. 220-223. 3t Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3: In speaking of religious congregations, I am using the term theo-logically and not canonically. I am talking about the faith reality that constitutes religious life, not juridical requirements ofany particular period in history. Tropical Night Watch (Cap Haitien, Haiti) The current is cut, the light fails, generators die, sleep prevails. Wakened by silence, I stagger onto the gallery, stumble over stars, so many stars the sky overflows, the Milky Way spilt and star running all down the dome. Does someone, I wonder, watch with me, or do I alone gorge on the glory? Two a.m. an ungodly hour?-- with this luxury of light? this starry sight? I gape, I gape, at this godly night. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Januasy-February 1998 DONNA J. MARKHAM Leadership for the Common Good Only a few achieve the colossal task of holding together, without being torn asunder, the clarity of their vision along-side an ability to take their place in a materialistic world. They are the modern heroes . --Irene Claremont de Castillejo Knowing VVoman: A Feminine Psychology AnY person who is called upon to lead today is also called to the heroic act of unifying and healing in the midst of a world that is increasingly fragmented by nationalism and regional separatism. Nor are religious leaders unaffected: denom-inational sectarianism and ideological divisions threaten to take a mortal toll on the community of believers. At the same time, we live in an exciting era, alive in the midst of an enormous shifting in the collective experience of our planet. Insights from world religions, the new sciences, and feminist consciousness are con-tinually shaping our responses to the suffering oppressed. Religious leaders want to unify their members in order to meet the various challenges effectively, but the personal and communal risks are great. Women religious leaders find themselves engaging in heroic action as they contend with complex and differing perspectives on Christology and spirituality and on what constitutes the core Donna J. Markham OP is CEO for Southdown, a center for Christian healing that serves clergy and religious. Her article, published in Origins 27 (I 3 November 1997), is a slightly edited version of her address to the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, held in Rochester, New York, in August 1997. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Relig4ous identity of religious life in this emerging global reality. Those who are entrusted for a time with the exciting task of fostering greater union and community are also expected to keep in front of our eyes the gospel-illuminated vision to which we have all committed ourselves. Irene Claremont de Castillejo rightly asserts that those who strive to accomplish such things are, indeed, mod-ern heroes. We actually have modern-day heroes--who have called us to common ground, who have invited us to envision a new way of being dwellers on earth, who have risked opening dif-ficult conversations and bringing forth serious critiques as new insights and truths are searched out. Within our midst are, I believe, unobtrusive modern heroines. The thoughts I share come from one who is clearly not a philosopher or a theologian, but rather a student of human behav-ior who has herself been stretched and challenged by a loving God. I share these thoughts as one who has experienced a call to profound conversion in the midst of the awesome responsibility of being entrusted with leading. I share these thoughts as one who, lost in deserts of confusion, has called out in fear; one who, with her sisters, has called upon a God of mystery, wisdom, and hope to show some clarity or meaning in daunting, sometimes terrifying, situations pregnant with disharmony and division. I hope to propose some specific skills for leaders to use in their efforts regarding the good we hold in common. Before doing that, however, I note two perspectives on the meaning of the com-mon good and offer a summation of our own experience of the past ten years. Perspectives on the Common Good There are two principal perspectives about how to achieve the good of society. The prevalent one, perhaps, is that the aggre-gate of individuals all pursuing their own self-interest constitutes the most good for the greatest number. This individualistic and utilitarian view--from John Locke, Adam Smith, and John Stuart Mill--emphasizes the common good as a composite of individual goods. It wants the civil authority to keep out of people's affairs except to ensure that no one tramples on another's rights. The second perspective, in the Thomistic tradition, emphasizes the common good as a social good that all must.participate in if the good of the whole is to be achieved (Hollenbach, 1989, pp. 85ff). January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Maritain elucidated this by speaking of a "personalistic commu-nitarianism" in which individuals achieve their own good more fully and readily when, in relationship with others, they work to enhance the common good. History has demonstrated, especially over the past two cen-turies, that two extremes of governance must be avoided: a lais-sez- faire individualistic philosophy that heralds each person in There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding personal spirituality and one's relationship with God. society as completely autonomous and indepen-dent, and a socialistic collectivism in which the individual sacrifices everything for the society, even to the loss of self-actualization. Within these polarities there exists a tension for each of us: to want each individual member in our community to be fulfilled and to flourish and to want our religious institutes to unleash their communal passion and energy in service of the mission of Jesus. After a long history of reflecting a more col-lectivist model, with the needs of individuals heavily subordinated to the needs of the larger community, religious life has, I think, swerved toward the Lockean-Smithian libertarian notion of the common good. Leadership itself has, at times, colluded in this--unconsciously, I think. We saw this reflected in some of our early documents after the call to renewal: the individual member was noted as our primary asset and first concern. While this concern was certainly not intended to subordinate the communal mission, experience has shown that this interrelationship has remained a serious issue for us, and we find ourselves seeking ways to lead well in the midst of escalating diversity of thought and belief. Experiences, Insights, and Questions What I say about the experience of leaders over this past decade is by no means exhaustive; I simply offer my own obser-vations: ¯ Women religious have a far stronger sense of internalized personal identity and individual maturity than previously. We also seek clarity concerning what constitutes corporate, com-munal identity .and what the requisites for membership are. Review for Religious ¯ We have witnessed a growing diversification of ministries, in which members are far more able to use their individual cre-ativity and talents in service of the gospel. ¯ We have deepened our sense of inner authority and self-direct-edness, yet we struggle with how this relates to any congre-gational ministerial focus and communal accountability. ¯ There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding per-sonal spirituality and one's relationship with God. ¯ There is a clear movement away from structures and systems that are oppressive and demeaning to women, and a deliber-ate movement toward systems that address the needs of the poor, the oppressed, and the abandoned. ¯ We have deepened our understanding of feminism in relation to our church and our world. ¯ We see an escalation of profound questioning, with conse-quences for our communal life as members of our institutes, not to mention our life as dwellers on this planet. ¯ As leaders we continue to experience the pervasive tension between our pastoral responsibility with its consequent care-giving obligations, and the possibilities of vision-driven, spirit-linking, heart-stirring leadership. ¯ We continue to examine models of leadership, modes of par-ticipation and decision making, and forms of governance that are faithful to our commitment as gospel-driven women. ¯ We live within the growing complexity of all the institutions and systems in which we minister. ¯ And we have witnessed the common good being held hostage, at times, by malaise and a depletion of communal passion. We have seen the common good compromised by leaders who have become overly preoccupied with the torment of a trou-bled individual and have diverted their attention from the broader work of leadership, with its potential to accomplish major transformations. We have witnessed the common good being co-opted by leaders who have become frightened and paralyzed in the face of an articulate few whose sociocultural precommitments distract them and others from gospel faith, the living water of religious life. At times we have also seen leaders--perhaps in misdirected efforts to affirm individu-als- fail to critique emergent societal, religious, and cultural movements as these impact on the common good of the con-gregation. 'L37 . 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good 3-8A So what is it that we have learned from what we have experi-enced? We have intensified our conviction that pluralism and diversity must work in tandem with a binding sense of identity and relationality. We know that interdependence is imperative for our survival as a planet, as nations, as a church, and as religious institutes. It is clear that all living systems are characterized by net-works of relationships. We are aware, more than ever, that all things are somehow connected and have an impact on one another for good or bad. Consequently, we know that various necessary and desirable boundaries need to be permeable enough for bond-ing with other communities and the global community to be pos-sible. We have learned, too, that neither hieratic leadership models nor totally consensual models are effective in this time of rampant change, greater complexity, and anxiety-provoking ambiguity, and we search for new ways to express leadership and exercise author-ity. We have learned that neither the subordination of individu-als to the needs of the community nor the subordination of the common good to the needs of individual members will make for a viable future. We have learned that new expressions of com-munity are being called for, whereby persons exercise true inter-dependence, participation, and responsibility about matters pertaining to the well-being of all those involved. We know that, if we are to do this, we need to develop skill in managing conflict and diversity. We have embraced even more deeply our need for ongoing contemplative reflection and conversation about mat-ters of the heart and soul. And we have learned with some trepi-dation that, insofar as profound doubt about the meaning and validity of our founding myths pervades our communities, we flirt with division and dissolution. Given all this, we are faced with serious questions. At what point does diversity within our institutes lead to entropy and orga-nizational dissolution? How will we work with our differences so that the result is synergy rather than division? How can we, with our members, become more intently engaged in the promotion of a personal communitarianism which recognizes that each per-son's dignity is most fully achieved in communion with others? What can we do as committed women of the gospel to help heal the gender and ideological rifts within our church, the racial and economic rifts in our country? What deliberate and concerted actions should we be taking as communities of faith to address Review for Religious materialistic individualism and the exploitation and mutilation of creation? How will we inspire others to that end? What signs will identify the better emergent models of leadership? In an effort to shed some light on these questions, I will focus on three areas of skill development: conflict management, guard-ing against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. By no means the only skills needed, these three call for some special attention today. Skills by themselves are, of course, not enough; but a leadership team's understanding of the princi-ples behind them can help keep the congregation moving for-ward while holding open the possibility of true synergy emerging. By synergy I mean the energy-laden, unexpected accord--or com-munion- within a group that gives it momentum toward the good which it esteems in common. Comfortable and Adept in Handling Conflict Perhaps more than any other skill, religious leaders today need the ability to manage conflict well. This prevents group-think from setting in and supports communal efficacious action. While we all know that some conflict is normal in any human relationship and an important part of the interaction in any vital group, much of what I say about managing conflict will seem counterintuitive. It flies in the face of our upbringing and our instinctive responses to confrontation. Most of us probably employ two basic responses to conflictual situations. Either we shy away from them, taking no action or procrastinating in the hope that the problem will go away, or we engage in symmetrical inter-change, being defensive or aggressive toward one another, prob-ably debating to a standoff. With the first strategy we quickly learn that the denial of the possibility of conflict is an easy way of becoming involved in one. With the second strategy we find our-selves caught in dualistic thinking that categorizes others as either with us or against us; we draw the proverbial line in the sand, and some become self-righteous winners and others demoralized losers. To use a third strategy, that is, to act counterintuitively, we anticipate and deliberately move toward that which is feared in efforts to establish connection. VCe meet conflict proactively or, in the wonderful words of William Shakespeare, we "meet the first beginnings; look to the budding mischief/before it has time to [-~9-- January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to listen and learn from one another. ripen to ,naturity." We anticipate conflict and confrontation and approach the other with the clear, well-articulated intent to dia-logue. In so doing we open the possibility of engaging in a kind of ecological relationship building, a way of working through erroneous assumptions about and resistance to one another. We do not engage in debate, but rather in dialogue that has been pre-pared for with rigorous study, prayer, and reflection. Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to lis-ten and learn from one another. Debate encour-ages dogmatic rigidity and judgment; dialogue encourages the search for insight and truth. If all parties have not prepared for the conversation by disciplined and intensive study, prayer, and reflec-tion, we are not ready to dialogue. Dialogue means that, while we are open to lis-tening and learning, we. also know that there are certain issues about which a group cannot com-promise. These include identity, internal consis-tency, and core values. A group ceases to exist as itself when these constitutive elements are com-promised. For example, leaders of religious congregations have a fundamental fiduciary obligation to promote the unity of the con-gregation. They canr~ot compromise those founding values and principles which have endured over ti,ne and which constitute the community's identity, charism, and mythic history. On the other hand, conversation and dialogue around the contentporary meaning of communal identity--no matter how divergent our understand-ings may bemis of critical importance and should not be shied away from in spurious hopes that differences will disappear. Still, to entertain that the fundamental identity of the group is open for negotiation is to promote disunity, disintegration, and ultimate demise. Membership in the group has become meaningless. A few examples: One can be a part of a group called "psy-chologists" and struggle with reformulations and new constructs relative to the study of personality and behavior. But to assert that the study of personality and behavior is no longer relevant to the discipline of psychology is to move oneself outside the iden-tity of being a psychologist. Similarly, Dominicans can struggle with how to enflesh the mandate of the order to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ in today's world, or how they will name and address contemporary heresies, but they cannot say that they will Review for Religious replace the gospel of Jesus Christ as a foundation for that preach-ing mission with some other construct. To do so would be to move outside the identity of being Dominican. Likewise, when an indi-vidual experiences a loss of identity, that person moves into a state of confusion and terror. In the most dramatic sense of this phe-nomenon, the psychotic person has little or no awareness of who she is, what she is to be doing, or what meaning there is to her very existence. This is why the therapist, as an agent of responsive and responsible authority, must take swift action to protect her from further disintegration and potential self-destruction. Good leaders take clear and directed action to protect the solidarity of the group, its commitment to unity in the face of challenges to its founding purpose, its identity and mission. They do so by calling the group to reflection, prayer, and respectful dialogue. They, with the group, walk toward what is feared and claim their truth in faith and in commitment to the greater good. Leaders in this era of connection (Lipman-Blumen, pp. 8-21) live in the midst of ongoing diversity. Accordingly, they also live in the midst of the conflicts which arise from this diversity of insight and thought. Successful handling of these conflicts demands certain assumptions: that all are committed to learn from one another and to search for truth together; that they agree to carry out the conversation to its conclusion; that they respect one another; and that no party will resort to oppressive or vindictive strategies during or after the conversation. Leaders who succeed possess an internal disposition of grace, flexibility, balance, empa-thy, courage, creativity, and a heavy dose of curiosity about the dif-ferent and unusual. But even these qualities are insufficient if leaders are frightened or unclear about or uncommitted to what constitutes the identity of the group which they have been called to serve. A time may come when evasion or avoidance--or a direct naming of the futility of carrying a discussion any further--may actually be a worthwhile move. The problem has often been that we have resorted to these moves before working proactively with the conflictual situation. Guarding against Groupthink One way, of course, of avoiding conflict within a close work group is for all to adopt patterns of thinking that are so "agree- Janttal.3,-FebtvtaD, 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good able" that disagreement becomes unthinkable: it would be "dis-loyalty." But "agreement," then, is an ambiguous thing. The greater the ambiguity, the more likely it is that a leadership group has fallen into the groupthink that some analysts describe. This dangerous dynamic arises when, in the face of adversity or perceived danger, a cohesive "ingroup" (here, the leadership team) insulates itself from conflict with the "outgroup" (here, the other members). It does this by concurrence seeking and unques-tioning agreeableness among the ingroup members. Groupthink interferes with leadership's ability to act on behalf of the com-mon good because it has closed off alternative courses of action. It falls into a tight-knit, closed system in which team members avoid deviating from consensus. The ingroup thus shares an illu-sion of unanimity concerning most of its judgments and posi-tions. In the worst scenario, certain members of the ingroup unwittingly assume the role of "mindguards" who protect the leader and other ingroup members from adverse information that might break their sense of well-being about their past decisions. Groupthink can result from a largely unconscious effort on the part of a leadership group to fortify itself, in ambiguous and con-flictual times, against perceived threats from the outgroup. It is characterized by the ingroup's feeling a certain invulnerability and having exaggerated optimism about the future. Negative feed-back has been dismissed by rationalizing, by stereotyping the behavior of members who disagree as invalid, irrelevant, erro-neous, disloyal, or uninformed. The search for truth has thus been compromised not only in the leadership group but also throughout the community, because sincere engagement between the ingroup and the outgroup has been aborted. W-hen diversity of thought has been stifled within a leadership group, stagnation, boredom, and a certain brittleness, set in. This situation comes from a misunderstanding of consensus, but it often masquerades as a nonhieratic, more feminist model of managing disagreement and arriving at decisions. Groupthink is serious and should not be underestimated. Group analysis has shown that the membership of any large group reflects the deficiencies of its leaders. V~rhen diversity of opinion, conflict, and serious dialogue find little or no room for expression in the leadership group, the membership will unconsciously mir-ror the leadership or react strongly to it, in either case jeopar-dizing the common good. Review for Religious In order to counter the unconscious pull toward groupthink, leadership teams may wish to set up safeguards. They could, for example, devise ways of getting critical evaluations of decisions and actions (including evaluations from outside the leadership team); they could, before coming to agreement, probe for alternatives; they could seek and happily come up with more than one way of addressing a given issue; they could broaden the decision-making base by consulting persons from different disciplines and areas of expertise; they could, after a period of time apart, hold a sec-ond- chance session to readdress the issue; they could simply ask whether there is "too much unanimity." Promoting Efficacious Communal Action Leadership teams that manage conflict well and avoid group-think instill in their communities the belief that it is indeed pos-sible for something important and significant to come from concerted communal action directed toward the greater good (Bandura, 1997). On the other hand, if a community has little sense that it is making a difference as a group, it will experience organizational anxiety, corporate depression, and a growing fear of the future and it will not attract new members. Leaders who work well with conflict and promote the unity of the group through a clear commitment to pursuing the truth together make a difference in this world of ours. Their fearless-ness and passion in repeatedly calling the group to fidelity to its mission have an impact. If all else is equal, a group that is more unified and clear about its identity and mission will endure beyond one that is fragmented. In other words, integration and unifica-tion contribute to life; disintegration and fragmentation, to demise. We know well that our desire to flourish is not an end in itself. Rather, we choose life as members of religious institutes because we are committed to radical discipleship. We commit ourselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a differ-ence-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the aban-doned in our world. We believe we can do this better because we are united as sisters, and so we invite others to walk with us. We do this not simply to bolster our sense of well-being, but because we believe desperately in the mission of Jesus to promote justice and right relationships among people, between people and their Januaty-Februa~y 1998 Markham ¯ Leadersh~ for the Common Good God, and among all the various peoples that dwell upon this planet. We know that this work is not finished. We invite others to join us in this connective mission of pursuing what is true, what is just, what is merciful, and what ultimately is the One who unites us all. Most of our congregations have identified issues which they see as critical to the common good of our society today. In meet-ing with communities across North America, I have noted a remarkable consensus on the critical issues calling for our response as women religious. Through chapter acts, vision statements, and communal goals, concerns about the environment, racism, the poor and oppressed, spirituality, and women's needs and oppor-tunities continue to surface. These concerns, besides inviting our deep compassion, recall us to our commitment to live the gospel as wholeheartedly as we can. I watched in awe as the NASA scientists shared the excite-ment of accomplishing something awesome. This team of women and men was jubilant that their Martian dreams, their hard work, their collaboration gave us earthlings a chance to see another world. They were passionate, and millions of us on the Internet shared their passion as we took in the unfolding events. Why, then--though our dreams and efforts on behalf of the oppressed and abandoned bring successes and are no less altruistic than those of NASA scientists--do we seem not to have such excitement and passion about our corporate accomplishments, either just among ourselves or in the eyes of others? I found myself pon-dering this question with a tinge of sadness as I watched the ongo-ing televised press briefings. We want to make a difference in our mission. We want to see something come of all our hard work. We want to know that we are participating in something that makes a tangible difference in our world. We long for excitement and passion regarding our work. When a group has a sense of nothing much coming from a colossal effort, it gets discouraged. Negative corporate conse-quences follow: heightened individualism, attrition of member-ship, loss of momentum, corporate sluggishness. While many of us individually experience satisfaction in know-ing that we are addressing those compelling needs identified through our chapter processes, I wonder if we are depriving our-selves of the possibility of magnanimous corporate accomplish-ment. I wonder if the aggregate of our individual good works has Review for Religious buried in oblivion our ability to do something passionately, and concretely, together. What might it mean for us if we were to spec-ify concretely what we will do together as a congregation--or per-haps all of our congregations in concert--by way of making a passionate and grand contribution to this Mother Earth of ours, especially the neediest causes on it? I realize that, as soon as we entertain thoughts of concerted and clearly defined com-munal endeavors, we may conjure up our worst memories of the past. The urgency of the needs of these times, however, demands that we let go of that history and allow the fire of a revived corporate passion to brighten our eyes and our vision as we look toward the future of the life and labor for which God called us together, and keeps calling us. We have dedication and commitment and a vision and a mission that are at least as broad and deep as the NASA team has. We are attuned to needs that make the Martian endeavor look small and childlike. Oppression and exploita-tion are no strangers to us. The exploitation of our planet, of the abandoned, of women and children, is daily being resisted by wonderful women religious all over this continent and beyond. But now is a time for us to come together, in ways we have never imagined, to make an even greater difference for the good of our world's people. We join with John Paul II in seeing ecological concern as a driving force in the communal mission to which we are called: The earth is ultimately a common heritage, the fruits of which are for the benefit of all . It is manifestly unjust that a privileged few should continue to accumulate excess goods, squandering available resources, while masses of people are living in conditions of misery at the very lowest level of sub-sistence. Today the dramatic threat of ecological breakdown is teaching us the extent to which greed and selfishness-- both individual and collective--are contrary to the order of creation, an order which is characterized by mutual interde-pendence . Simplicity., moderation, and discipline, as well as a spirit of sacrifice, must become part of everyday life, lest all suf-fer the negative consequences of the careless habits of a We commit OldYselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a difference-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the abandoned in our world. Januao~Feb~wa~y 1998 Markham * Leadershi~for the Common Good few . An education in ecological responsibility is urgent; responsibility for oneself, for others, and for the earth . (John Paul II, 1990) Engaging in this efficacious action on behalf of the common good calls each of us to a deeper expression of our personal value and meaning and makes it available for the well-being of one another. To lead on behalf of the common good is as exciting as it is heroic. To stay centered on the ultimate vision of unity; to manage conflict in service of what is true, faithful, and just; to stand committed to the unfolding meaning of our identity in mis-sion-- these things are the substance of leaders who invite con-version and the linking of spirits and hearts at a time when not to do so is, all too probably, to toy with death. Steering Clear of Resistance Temptations to let oneself be drawn away from the demands of such a ministry of spirit-linking leadership abound. To allow oneself to be caught up in efforts directed toward problem persons and a minimal status quo is to entrench oneself and one's con-gregation in a futile defensiveness. Recognizing the difference between getting caught up in crisis management and working with the crisis in order to promote the common good is an art form that requires continual attention and development. In the process we must guard against a certain emotional and behavioral passivity that lulls us into a tolerance of diversity without restraint. Individual efforts and accomplishments should not crowd out the larger vision of a community's contemporary identity in mis-sion. When community leaders sideline or postpone or limit a unified group response to the crying needs of God's people and God's world, when leaders give too much attention to individual members (to their preferences, their convenience, even their per-sonal gratification) or fail to set limits on behaviors that stand in the way of the greater good, then something is wrong. Any group, of course, has maintenance tasks that need atten-tion. But how much time and energy should those entrusted with leadership today spend on those tasks? Honest self-evaluation of the use of team time is an important reality test for a leadership group. Such a group needs continual creative redesign so as to become or remain free to lead and not just manage. Beyond merely managing or even merely leading, I ask con- Rev&w for Religious gregational leaders to call one another and to call our communi-ties to heroism. Call us to risk entering into conflictual conver-sations that hold promise of connecting us in trust and in hope to one another. Lead us into the midst of difficult dialogues that will bring us into deeper and more respectful relationship with all who long for a church, a society, and a world in which communion in spirit and in truth prevails. Risk calling us to concrete corpo-rate ministerial responses. Invite us to be passionate. Help us to face together the different, the other, the frightening, and the unexpected so that we may discover ever more deeply that the good which we hold in common is nothing less than participa-tion in the compassionate goodness and mystery of God. Bibliography Bandura, A. "Human Agency: The Emperor Does Have Clothes." Canadian Psychological Association Convention, Keynote Address, June 1997. Bellah, R., et al. The Good Society. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Claremont de Castillejo, I. Knowing Woman:/t Feminine Psychology. Harper Colophon Books, 1974. Hollenbach, D. "The Common Good Revisited." Theological Studies 50, no. I (1989), pp. 70-94. Hollenbach, D. "The Catholic University and the Common Good." Current Issues in Higher Education 16, no. 1 (1995). John Paul II. "Peace with God the Creator, Peace with All of Creation." Papal statement, 1 January 1990. Lipman-Blumen, J. The Connective Edge: Leading in an Interdependent World. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996. Rivers, E The Way of the Owk Succeeding with lntegv-i~y in a Conflicted World. HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Roszak, T., M.E. Gomes, and A.D Kanner, eds. Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1995. Tracy, D. Plurality and Ambiguity: Hermeneutics, Religion, Hope. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987. Whyte, D. The Heart/1roused: Poetry and the Preset'ration of the Soul in Corporate America. New York: Doubleday Currency, 1994. Wren, J.T., ed. The Leader's Companion: Insights on Leadership through the Ages. New York: Free Press, 1995. Janttary-Feb~'uary 1998 thNv N E MUNLEY Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium I love you, God, with a penny ~natch of love that I strike when the big and bullying dark of need chases my startled sunset over the hills and in the walls of my house small terrors move.~ ~edeeSSica Powers's image, "a penny match of love," is a won-rful imag~e o.f human desire for God that yearns" to be stronger, that yearns to ignite hearts, capture imaginations, shape dreams, and awaken possibilities. There is nothing paltry about God's gifts. God longs to kindle our penny matches of love into a growing fire as we gather here, more than a thousand strong, representing ninety-four percent of the women religious of the United States. It is a precious gift to be alive and to be called to leadership as one millennium ends and another begins. The last decades of the 20th century have been a time of cataclysmic change. The coming of the third millennium is certain to prompt diverse mus-ings about the challenges of this moment in history. Some, lament-ing present evils, will forecast doom. Others will gloss over substantive issues of dignity and justice to focus on the bizarre. Still others, including ourselves, will view the millennium as a kairos time for renewing hearts and transforlning society. Anne Munley IHM presented this paper, here edited and somewhat short-ened, as the presidential address to the August 1997 national assembly, in Rochester, New York, of the Leadership Conference of V¢o~nen Religious. She may be addressed at the I.H.M. Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious The year 2000 presents the world with an extraordinary occa-sion to commemorate-the birth of Christ as an historical fact and as a saving event for humanity for all times. The new millennium is an invitation to renewed wonder at the lavishness of a God who so loved the world that Jesus, the Christ, took on human flesh that all might become alive in God. We are called to leadership in a time when humanity yearns for connection with God, with one another, and with all creation. Yet we are acutely aware that we live in a world of violence, envi-ronmental desecration, economic polarization, racism, poverty, systemic oppression, and cultural breakdown. Our senses are bur-dened with images of human suffering in the homes, streets, vil-lages, neighborhoods, suburbs, and cities of this nation and throughout the world. In this age of globalization, when the peo-ples of the world are linked together as never before by commu-nication, economic interdependence, and the diffusion of cultural values, gaps continue to grow between rich and poor. Most peo-ple would agree that beneath obvious contemporary problems lie a crisis of the spirit and an erosion of concern for the common good. There is little sense that all the peoples of the earth are brothers and sisters having a common destiny in one global fam-ily created by the God of infinite love and compassion, but such a sense is what is needed." Inside the walls of our house, "the bul-lying dark of need" aches to see flames of love and moral com-mitment, aches for a revolution of the human heart and a resurgence of spiritual leadership. There are many signs of hope for this moment: conscious-ness that there is a crisis, desire for practical life-giving solutions, hunger for meaning, purpose, and direction and a longing for connectedness. The biblical concept of jubilee offers a revolu-tionary vision of reform for these times. The call to jubilee rec-ognizes the sanctity of time, the sacredness of creation, the importance of rest and contemplation, the equality of all in the eyes of God, the need to attend to the common good and the jus-tice of right relationships. The biblical jubilee calls for forgiveness, reconciliation, and joy, not ju.st an inner joy but a jubilation that is expressed in communal celebration) In proclaiming a new covenant of unity among peoples, Jesus brought the jubilee promise to life. We lead in a time of soul-stretching possibility. It is a holy time for "bringing good news to the afflicted, liberty to captives, January-Februaly 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed." One of the greatest gifts that leaders can bring to this age is a sense of hope that transformation is possible. This gift is a penny match of love that can ignite great fires. Scientists tell us that tiny movements can have a huge cumulative impact on vast systems.4 Spiritual seekers discovered this truth long ago. In the words of Kukei, an 8th-century Zen master: "A hand moves, and the fire's whirling takes different shapes . All things change when we do."SMore than anything else these times need leaders who can bring to the outer world the transforming spirit of the inner world. Spiritual Leadership Recent literature about leadership reflects growing awareness that spirituality sustains community, meaning, and hope. The titles of many of these works suggest a shift toward conscious-ness of the inner life: Leading with Soul, The Corporate Mystic, The Heart .4roused, The Soul of Politics, and "Leading from Within.''6 The message of Leading ~vitb Soul is that leadership is a jour-ney of the heart. Heart, hope, faith, compassion, and courage are essential to leadership, to the creation of communities of mean-ing, and to a rediscovery of the ethical and spiritual center of society. Corporate mystics are spiritual leaders who are comfort-able with their own spirituality and who nurture the spiritual development of others. Corporate mystics call forth the best in themselves and others; they operate with integrity and intuition and pursue their visions with passion and compassion. In The Heart/1roused, the poet David Whyte links the inner world of spirit and creativity to the preservation of the soul in corporate America. Whyte knows well that leadership from within involves far more than techniques, plans, goals, or strategies. In his latest book of poetry, The House of Bdonging, he urges us to remember:7 What you can plan is too small for you to live. To be human is to become visible while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others. Re'view for Religious Jim Wallace in The Soul of Politics and Parker Palmer in his essay "Leading from Within" emphasize responsibility for co-creating the world we live in by bringing to it the best of our spiritual traditions and convictions. Our spiritual traditions tell us that we are not victims of the world as it is, but are its co-cre-ators. Borrowing from Annie Dillard,s Palmer says that, unless leaders are willing to take the spiritual journey inward and down-ward, we are likely to project what we hate in ourselves onto other people because we fear to face the enemy in our own souls. Great leaders have the courage to face their shadow side and consciously choose to project a spirit of light. Our own experiences on the inner journey and as women religious committed to co-creation of a just and loving world are a valuable part of our call to lead-ership within our communities. Gift of a Heart Afire At this national assembly of ours in outstate New York, I recall the determination and incredible belief in possibility of the hand-ful of women who organized in 1848 the Seneca Falls Convention that lit a fire to change the legal and political position of women in the United States. Using various means to secure suffrage for women, leaders like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, and Carrie Chapman Cart drew on their inner fire to breathe spirit and passion into their quest for reform. Women like Mice Paul, Lucy Burns, and Rose Winslow must have drawn deeply on their inner strength as they endured impris-onment, hunger strikes, and forced feedings. I recall also the countless women from all ethnic, class, and racial backgrounds who addressed severe social problems at the end of the last century and the early decades of this one. I recall the inner fire, faith, and vision that sustained the founding and pioneer members of our congregations, enabling them to over-come great obstacles. In the depths of their hearts they realized that, for those who love, the impossible becomes possible. I am conscious of the millions of people who daily confront abuses of human rights and work for change. I am conscious of all of the women religious throughout the world who, with listening hearts and eyes focused on today's fierce urgencies and spiritual hungers, continue to imagine alternate possibilities as they struggle toward the reality of God's reign in the immediate circumstances of daily January-February 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire life. I am conscious of the collective spiritual energy in this room and of the force that it is for the life of the world. Understood in its broadest sense, spirituality includes more than the inner life. It is, in the words of the theologian Anne Carr, "the whole of one's spiritual or religious experience, one's beliefs, convictions, and patterns of thought, one's emotions and behavior in respect to what is ultimate, or to God.''9 As women of faith and conviction, the greatest resource we can bring to the new millennium is the spiritual leadership of a heart afire. Spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good for all. When the heart is on fire, light comes from within. With the "eyes of the enlightened heart," we can see the hope to which we are called (Ep 1:18). By baptism and the mystery of vocation we have proclaimed publicly that the quest for God and the new creation is the fire of our lives. Our world longs for visible expressions of God's saving presence and for new ways of seeing that are graces of the inner experi-ence of God's love. In the Christian tradition seeing with the eyes of the heart occurs on the journey of discipleship. Discipleship is not an easy journey. It is an ongoing effort to live the gospel with integrity--trying, sometimes succeeding, often failing, recognizing the need of being forgiven and then trying again. It is a way of being in the world that affects every relationship. Disciples shape one another according to the action of the Spirit in their lives. The energy of the disciple flows from faith in what_is unseen yet believed. At its root, discipleship is a call to a love that never gives up on God, one's neighbor, or oneself. Disciples are called to love well., as Jesus did, with hope, truth, fidelity, and compassion. This leads inevitably to taking a stand with the Christ of the paschal mystery, who willingly laid down his life in love so that all may have life in abundance. In these times, spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good. for all. Such transformation will happen in our communities and in the world around us when Review for Religious precepts of compassion and justice inspire the collective soul and have an impact on behavior. All around us and among us there are compelling stories of discipleship. As leaders we need to see them with the eyes of the heart. In the sharing of the stories, heart touches heart and souls are filled with the spirit that makes ongoing commitment possible. Meaning-Making Spiritual leaders empower their communities for ongoing commitment by keeping questions of meaning before them: Why are we together in community? How are we called to the unique circumstances of these times? What is our commitment to one another and to those with whom we journey? In times of sub-stantive change there is an extraordinary need to explore ques-tions of meaning and purpose. In the midst of chaos, a coherent worldview and a dynamic understanding of the relevance of reli-gious life are helps toward interpreting the signs of the times and living discipleship with integrity. Leaders can make an enor-mous contribution to this process by helping the other members to make sense of shifting fealties both outside religious !ife and within it. At the deepest level, our congregations are held together by myths, values, beliefs, and foundational stories. These are the roots of the congregation's identity and purpose. They constitute the why of our being together as communities. They have their effect on the passion with which we live our mission. They influ-ence the way we use resources, the way we work together to press the mission forward. The shared meaning and work and mem-ory of our lives together provide symbols, relationships, and prin-ciples for making sense of the changes going on within us and around us. Shared meaning is essential for shared commitment. At a time of rapid social change and shifting demographics and resources, spiritual leadership is not about getting people to do something. It is about helping the group to keep before itself the kind of meaning that will guide choices and call forth com-mitment.~° Spiritual leadership is a group process rather than an individual's personal qualities or skills. It is interactive and rela-tional. When members of a community are closely involved in piecing shared meanings together as a basis for corporate action or direction, they experience significance together, discovery together, leadership together. Today, as many congregations grap- pie with issues of governance and restructuring, it is a key func-tion of leadership to foster meaning-making together. The more things change around us and within us, the more important it will be to create connections for exploring the pos-sibilities that change and newness offer. As Margaret Wheatley notes, "Life invites us to create not only the forms but even the process of discovery.''l~ The kind of effort that we put into mean-ing- making will affect the credibility of our way of life as well as our own sense of authenticity and integrity. Integrity and Justice In

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PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up ami develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. THE IUI ERCURV The Literar7 Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1909 No. 7 CONTENTS. THE IMPORTANCE OP HEREDITY IN DECIDING A MAN'S OCCUPATION 2 WM. A. LOGAN, '10. THE FIRST CHRISTMAS.—Poem ' 5 NEWTON D. SWANK, '11. THE MUNICIPAL BATHING BEACH AT WASHING-TON G D. E. A. K. HER REASON 8 JI. IT. KRUMRINE, '11. ART. II.—TENNYSON'S CENTENARY, AUGUST 1809- 1909 12 REV. CHARLES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, A.M., B.D. THE HONOR SYSTEM SHOULD PREVAIL AT PENN-SYLVANIA COLLEGE 15 MARY M. BAUSCH, '11. THE AMERICAN BUSINESS MAN 17 HARVEY W. STRAYER, '10. NEITHER PESSIMISM NOR OPTIMISM 20 FLORENCE G. HEATHCOTE, '10. DOES SMOKING AND DRINKING INTERFERE WITH INTELLECTUAL PROGRESS ? 22 H. F. BAUGHMAN, '10. SPAIN'S CRIME 24 EARL S. RUDISILL, '12. THE POSSIBILITIES FOR IMPROVEMENTS IN GET-TYSBURG 26 HARVEY S. HOSIIOUR, '10. EDITORIALS 28 EXCHANGES 31 z. THE MERCURY. THE IMPORTANCE OF HEREDITY IN DECIDING A MAN'S OCCUPATION. WM. A. LOGAN, '10. jO consider the question of the importance of heredity in determining a man's occupation we must see what effect heredity has in general upon the life of a man, and since occupation is an outgrowth of imitation, we must determine the effect of heredity, in particular, upon imitation. But let us first see what heredity means in this connection. There are those who would tamper with the term "heredity" in its purity, corrupting it by making it cover its own natural ground and that-rightly belonging to "early environment." We prefer, and justifiably so, to look upon it in its own sphere and to exclude any contribution from this other factor. Hence, we define heredity as the name given to the transmission of gains or losses in organic development from parent to child. And upon this definition rests the solution of our question. Heredity, certainly, has importance, however limited, in de-termining a man's line of work—in fact it has importance as a determining factor in man's whole life. Taking our definition, we admit a transmission takes place in the generation of chil-dren, but note that it is a transmission of gains or losses in organic development, and hence, becomes a question of large or small capacity; for it is easy to understand that the parent who lias gained in organic development will transmit to the child an organism of superior development and therefore of greater ca-pacity. The reverse is also true of the parent who has lost in organic development. And now, although we admit this, at the same time we know from observation, that unless favorable con-ditions are brought to bear upon the life of that child of superior development, that superiority will be overcome, largely, by the lack of said conditions, and, by the time the person is ready for occupation the factor of superior development will be so subju-gated to the unfavorable conditions that it will be recognized as playing a very small part in determining the occupation which the person will take up. On the other hand, let the child of in-ferior organic development be surrounded by favorable condi- THE MERCURY. tions—what do we notice ? Simply this, that although it cannot exceed a certain limit of development, it can and will, by virtue of these favorable conditions, overcome its inferiority, and, again, we find it true that heredity plays a part, but a very small part, in determining the occupation the child will follow. This ex-plains the phenomenon of great, powerful men born of lowly and sometimes ignorant parents, yet by virtue of later environment they become the powers that they are. Now, that we may get the really vital factor which solves our question, we must consider the element, "conscious imitation." It is this, after all, which determines the occupation however true it is that it too, has its detriments. To be concise we shall quote Baldwin, who sets forth plainly the rise of conscious imi-tation, and heredity's part in this rise. He cites the fact of the late rise of conscious imitation: sixth or seventh month. This fact may be accounted for on the very evident ground of the distinction of congenital functions from the new accommo-dations of the individual child. The child's early months are taken up with its vegetative functions. The machinery of he-redity is working itself out in the new individual." And fur-ther: "In the main, therefore, there is instinctive tendency to functions of the imitative type, and to some direct organic imi-tations; but those clear conscious imitations which represent new accommodations and acquirement are not as such instinc-tive, but come later as individual acquirements." Here we see heredity limited to the determining of action in the early months of the individual's life, and giving way to that more potent fac-tor, conscious imitation which in turn is determined by environ-ment. But we have not said that heredity has no power in de-termining a man's occupation and it is for us to show now, how it limits environment. Tins has been indicated above, but not explained. Let us take the ease of transmission of losses. The parent is frail and weak and the child inherits a similar frame and weak-ness; then no amount of habit, custom or education will make that child capable to assume an occupation which requires a large, strong body. And so with the inheritance of weak organs of whatever name—a weak heart, brain, a diseased stomach, etc. —inheritance of any of these means that habit, custom or educa- THE MERCURY. tion, in a word, environment, can only succeed in making the individual fit for an occupation which will not involve any strains whatever upon the weak or diseased organs. On the side of the trasmission of gains environment docs not have this limiting influence, but, as was stated explicitly above, a favorable environment tends to produce further gains, while an unfavorable environment limits even the organism of su-perior development. To take a specific case, we know a man, born of strong, healthy, intellectual parents, whose life was somewhat in this order—school (where he ranked high) work, (first in a store then in a factory with his father, then at a trade); night school, college, seminary, and ministry. The observed facts show that the man was born with an organism of superior development which was favorably environed during his early years,—then a less favorable influence came to bear, and, (that he might have more money), he went to work. Here we see environment showing itself in two directions—from store down to factory, and from factory up to trade. But finally, en-vironment lets his organism work along favorable lines, giving him a continuous uplift through the stages from night school to college, to seminary, and to his occupation. To sum up briefly, then, we admit that a transmission of ca-pacity takes place in generation of children, but we contend that this capacity may be limited or increased according to the un-favorable or favorable environment of the individual. We say that heredity is replaced by conscious imitation, to a large de-gree and imitation is the performing of those things which we see being performed about us. And when it comes to the de-termination of an occupation wc, in choosing, imitate those whom we have found it pleasant to imitate in other matters, or we choose an occupation for which our habits, customs or educa-tion has made us adept. And all this leads to the truth: "Man is a creature of environment," however true it may be that lie himself determines largely, his environment. THE MERCURY. THE FIRST CHRISTMAS. NEWTON D. SWANK, '11. In snowy-white December's dreary days, There comes to mind that bright'ning tale of glory; Of how the angels chanted hymns of praise, And to the shepherds told the wondrous story. Good shepherds, keeping watch o'er flocks by night In that same country where the Christ was born, Were dazed as they beheld a glorious sight Ere they had caught a glimpse of waking morn. They, sore afraid, drew back with cries of fear From that great shining light sent by the Lord. Then God's own angel did to them appear; Above, in radiant brilliancy, he soared. The angel to the shepherds softly said: "Fear not, I bring you tidings of great joy, Which to all people shall be widely spread; For unto you the Christ, your king, is born! This new-born babe is Christ, the Lord of men; In manger lying wrapped in swaddling clothes, Him .you will find in David's Bethlehem"— Then suddenly a host of angels rose. They chanted soft in heavenly array, And then sang: "Glory be to God on high, And on earth peace, good-will toward men alway." The joyous shepherds were no longer shy. As these celestial angels went from them The shepherds spoke to one another thus: "Let us now even go to Bethlehem To see this Son that God hath sent to us." THE MEECUEY. They came with haste, and found sweet Mary mild, Good Joseph with the oxen standing by; Within the manger lay the Holy Child,— God's gift to man His Love doth verify. When they the babe had seen they spread abroad The saying, which was told to them about This child, the precious gift for man from God; And all who heard sent up a prayer devout. The shepherds, glorifying God, returned; With great rejoicing they left Bethlehem, Where they such wondrous things had seen and learned; But Mary kept these things and pondered them. THE MUNICIPAL BATHING BEACH AT WASHINGTON. D. E. A. K. |ASHIN"GT01ST, the city beautiful, home of great men and fair women, has like many other large cities come to realize that not only in the palaces of kings, but also in the homes of the poor, are brain and brawn, beauty and grace to be found, for although frequently styled, "the city of diplomats and politicians," she has within her confines many from the poorer classes to whom are denied many of the neces-sities, not to speak of the luxuries of life. The children of these poor, compelled to bear the sweltering heat of summer, suffered without any means of relief. Seaboard cities are fanned by cooling breezes and afford to the younger element all the bathing facilities the ocean allows. Country towns have woods and the inevitable swimming hole. Washington, although situated on the Potomac, is blessed with none of these natural bounties, for due to the depth of the water and the currents, the river has been shunned rather than sought. What was to be done in the face of such conditions? Action THE MERCURY. 7 followed swift on the heels of the realization of the necessity. The citizens of the district petitioned the commissioners and they readily granted to the committee appointed, the old Fish Commission pools and grounds and a money appropriation to make the necessary repairs and alterations. Thus one of the city's most beneficent charities had its beginning. It was but a beginning, and that only, for since this the labor expended has been almost herculean. Unused pools have been filled in, low ground has been graded, drainage has been put in, locker houses and office buildings have been provided and con-crete swimming pools built. Has it been worth while? For an answer I would ask you to go to the Bathing Beach grounds some afternoon about one o'clock. When one is a full half mile from the pools already the small boy with his bathing suit is in evidence. Although Wash-ington is a city of "magnificent distances," yet from the out-skirts they come, rich and poor, big and little, young and old, and all in a hurry. When they arrive at the grouds all willingly get in line to receive their free admission slips, for a record of the name, age and residence of all patrons is kept. At the small boys' hours the big fellow declares, "he's only a kid;" at the older boys' hours, the little one is a man grown, supports a family, "and has chewed tobacco for a year;" few such excuses however, are offered during the ladies' hours. If the troubled waters in the pools at Washington could work miraculous cures ,many would be the number healed, for from early morning to evening few are the minutes in which the pools are not "disturbed"—and not always by angels either. Splash! Splash! Splash ! All day long. One can see hundreds in the pools or waiting on the wharves. Here a senate page is having a game of tag with a "newsy" who for an hour has dropped his cry of "Sta'-Times- -Evenin' Pape," and is enjoying a dip; there "Tubby" Regan, winner of many races, paddles in his inevitable tub, joyfully ignorant of the fact that Johnny Shugrne is just ready to spill him from his slippery throne. There are shallow pools for waders, deep ones for swimmers,. "muddy" ones for the dusky patrons; all are accomodated, all are-happy, all are safe. Swimming instructors and life guards with 8 THE MERCURY. ceaseless vigil keep careful watch over the bathers, so accidents are few, fatalities none. And who is largely responsible for the instruction and con-tinuance of this factor which has proved to be an unspeakable blessing to many? Dr. Wm. B. Hudson, the present superin-tendent, "the swimmer's friend, looked Up to by the boys, re-spected by the men, asked for by the ladies; a "West Point man^ a University of Pennsylvania graduate who has entrusted to other hands his large profitable practice that he might for a mere pittance give his time and energy for the good of "the other man." All honor to such truly great men, who in a spirit of widest altruism forget self in their consideration for their fel-lows. ± ± HER REASON. M. H. KRUJIBIXE, '11. SJSPT this a grand night? Beyond description!" "It certainly is." "It is an ideal night to take a walk. Nothing would be quite as enjoyable to me as a walk. Will we take one?" Oh !— The t-t-ti—w-well! Let's take a walk." Such were the words exchanged between Jack Roberts, the big Sophomore class president and Miss Drew, the Freshman co-ed, respectively, as the former was leaving Miss Drew after having spent a most enjoyable evening in the company of the Fresh-man co-ed. It was at 11 o'clock and the walk came as a sur-prise to both. It was quite a novelty to these two representa-tives of hostile classes. True, Miss Drew had reflected on the time but the night was too grand to resist. Then, too, we must not forget that one was a class president and the other a class secretary and loyal Freshman co-ed. "Hustle on your wraps, Miss Drew, and we'll be out enjoying the glorious night," said Jack, his head in a whirl. The very fact that he had spent the evening with Miss Drew was enough THE MERCURY. to fluster him for a week and the walk in addition was enough to cause a brain-storm. He had eyed the Freshman co-ed with hungry eyes many a time as she appeared in chapel, on the campus, in dining hall or wherever she chanced to come within sight. Many a time had the rustle of her dress, the wave of her golden tresses or the sparkle of her beautiful, blue eyes caused his heart to take a sud-den leap and flutter beyond control. What this present occasion did we can only conjecture. Then, too, Mis Drew, the popidar and generally admired Freshman co-ed had not been entirely averse to the attentions paid her by the big Sophomore president. In fact, she had played several games of tennis with him, but never had Jack teen honored with her company as he was to-night. But the walk is not yet taken. "Oh! I am ready," was the quick reply, as Margaret, the co-ed, hastily donned her wraps. Soon they were off for a stroll in the country, under the open canopy of heaven, bestudded with countless stars. The silvery moon, too, was shedding its gor-geous light on the earth beneath. Thus they went forth to drink in the fresh air and beauties of the night. ISTor was their en-joyment of the walk unexpressed. "Isn't this evening perfectly charming. It is an ideal ni , I mean, it is an ideal evening. An evening such as poets love to describe. How grand it is and my enjoyment of it cannot be expressed." Such were the words of Margaret as they went along. "You have expressed my feelings exactly, Miss Drew," was the scant reply of Jack. He had other feelings to contend with. Feelings such as scarcely permitted him to open his mouth lest they give utterance,—to his sorrow—perhaps. He was perplexed and rather meditative. But he was well aware of all that hap-pened and was a very earnest audience to Margaret, reflecting carefully on all she said, which was much. Margaret apparently was enjoying the walk so much that she did not think of any-thing else. She was very talkative, as if for some specific pur-pose. As the walk was continued the perplexity of Jack did not cease, but rather increased. He was perturbed and it was only 10 THE MERCURY. a matter of time when it would become evident to his companion. '"Shall I say it ?—Will I tell her ?" mused the big class president. "How will she take it? No. I dare not, I must not, for when I mentioned Borneo and Juliet in connection with this night, she made a queer move and uttered an unexplainable sound. She objected to any such thought. Did she object? Perhaps she winced for another reason," mused Jack further. At this time the representatives of the two hostile classes were quite some distance from the college. It would take them about half an hour to get back and then they would have to walk briskly. Yet they kept on apparently unaware of the time and distance. All of a sudden an outrageous yell and din reached their ears. It was a din and it kept up for some time. Pres-ently Jack broke the silence caused by the din with the words, "What noise?" Margaret, innocent as a Freshman only can be, of course did not know. But all of a sudden, as if becoming suddenly aware of the time and distance from the college, she exclaimed rather excitedly, "Let's turn back. I fear the hour is growing late and we are some distance from the college—a good half hour's walk!" "Say a good hour's walk," said Jack as he turned to go back before he was aware of it. They journeyed back but the hideous noise and din marred their walk. How they did not know, but even Margaret was silent and Jack could not muse as before, with such an uproar going on. Furthermore he was afraid that he should be back at college, on the campus where the noise was made according to all indications. He was a class president and a Sophomore, too. What might not his class be doing. They were trained to "work" under him and without him they were as sheep without a shepherd. Perhaps the Freshmen are busy. He became alarmed the closer they came. His nerves were all a-tinkle. Just then they had come close enough to distinguish some words. "Sophomores! ""Sophomores!" "Freshmen!" "Freshmen!" "Freshmen!" burst upon their ears. "The Flagscrap!" burst forth Jack, as he made a sudden leap as if to run. THE MERCURY. 11 "Pardon me, Miss Drew, I—I forgot." "Merely class spirit," was the reply. The fact was only too well known to both now. The long looked for flag scrap had at last "come off." Then Jack did think. Here he was while the flag scrap was. going on, on the college campus. To him the walk ended in a tragedy, at least so he thought then. As they hastened back they wished their respective classes suc-cess as was only natural. Since the journey before them lasted about half an hour more, the former feelings of Jack came back. He had not said anything yet, but had come to the conclusion ihat Margaret was rather favorably inclined towards him. He gave that as her reason for taking a walk with him at such an hour. He could see no other reason. She surely must have had one and this to him seemed most plausible. Finally they reached their destination and in delicious pain Jack left the Freshman co-ed. He had not forgotten the class fight and so at the top of his speed he arrived on the college cam-pus. Yelling was at par now but it was all for the Freshmen for they had withstood the Sophomores for thirty-five minutes and their flag was still intact. Thus they had won the scrap since thirty minutes was the required time. The reason the Sophomores could not harm the Freshman flag-was because they lacked a leader—their president. No one knew where he was. That night Jack went to his room rather crestfallen. But then again he was happy for he had not forgotten the walk with one whom he idolized—yes that's what he really did. He still had hope, more strongly than ever, now, that he had left her and had time to reflect, that she had a good reason for taking the walk with him. "Yes, love was her reason" thought Jack. Next day one could see the Freshmen strutting about in high glee over the victory of the night before. After chapel, they all, at different times, and in small groups, congratulated Miss Drew, their secretary, on the noble part she had played in the flag scrap. Yes, the Freshman co-ed had a reason for taking a walk, at midnight, with the big, husky Sophomore president. 12 THE MERCURY. ART II.—TENNYSON CENTENARY AUGUST 1809-1909— Tennyson and In Memoriam. BY REV. CHARLES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, A.M., Ji.U. IEOM the selections of Tennyson's poems you will notice his work is beautiful for its melody, and harmony. You notice that he possesses a true love for nature and has a noble Christian character. This is manifested in his friendship for Iiallam. There has been very few classic friendships in the history of the world that have come down to us. We know the story of the true friendship, Damon, a Pythago-rean, bore for Pythias. Pythias had been condemned to death by Dionysius I, of Syracuse. Pythias asked to be set at liberty for a short time to settle up his affairs. Damon pledged his own life for that of his friend, who he knew would return. Pythias did return before the day appointed for his execution. Diony-sius was so deeply impressed that he released Damon from his pledge and gave Pythias his freedom. Again we know the true friendship David bore toward Jona-than. In the account given in I Samuel, 23:17-18, we see this friendship manifested. "And he said unto him: Fear not for the hand of Saul my father shall not find thee; and thou shalt be king over Israel, and I shall be next unto thee; and that also Saul my father knoweth. And they two made a covenant before the Lord: and David abode in the woods, and Jonathan went to his house." Thus Tennyson had a true deep friendship founded on love for Arthur Henry Hallam. He reveals his friendship and love in "In Memoriam." Arthur Henry Hallam, the son of the historian Henry Hal-lam, was born Feb. 1, 1811, in London. At an early age he traveled with his parents in Italy and Switzerland. As a youth he was very precocious. After attending a private school, he was sent to Eton. Here he remained until 1827. In October, 1828, he matriculated at Trinity College, Cam-bridge. Here he became acquainted with Tennyson. There THE MERCURY. 13 was formed a friendship which was to iast forever and which was destined to be immortalized in literature. Thus should all friendships be made, not to be broken at will, but to last forever. Friendships should not be made with the purpose of using those friends for selfish motives, but that true communion of soul and spirit might exist here on earth and in the realms of eternal life. Thus the best friendships are made in mature years when one. understands the congenialities of human nature. Furthermore, the true friendships formed in college days last on through life. You know Cicero speaks of friendship thus: "Virtus, virtus inquam C. Fanni et tu Q Muci et conciliat amicitias et eonser-rat. C. De Amit XXVIII, 53 page. Emerson also says: "My careful heart was free again, 0 friend, my bosom said. Through thee alone the sky is arched, Through thee the rose is red; All things through thee take nobler form, And look beyond the earth, The mill—round of our fate appears A sim path in thy worth." Young Hallam did not distinguish himself in Greek, Latin or Mathematics while at college. His work in literature and essay writing was brilliant. He was an orator of strong ability, for he obtained a prize on declamation in 1831. He was well versed in history. He graduated from Trinity in 1832 and in October 1832, he took up the study of law. In August of 1833, Arthur accompanied his father on a trip to the continent from which he was not to return alive. He died at Vienna, Sept. 15, 1833, from an attack of intermittent fever. His remains were brought to England and interred on the 3rd of January, 1834, in Clevedin Church, Somersetshire. Hallam as a young man in his earlier college days wrote many poems which were graceful, and pleasing. We quote this one: 14 THE MERCURY. '"Alfred, I would that you beheld me now, Sitting beneath a mossy wild wall. On a quaint bench which to that structure old Winds an accordant curve." He also wrote several essays of a philosophic character, which show careful thought and preparation. Thus Tennyson as a tribute of honor to his beloved friend wrote "In Memoriam" which was first published in 1850. It is probable when Tennyson first wrote this poem that it was not his intention to publish it. There is no regular order in the poem. Tennyson wrote as his soul passed through its various states, conditions, and feelings. At one time Tennyson lost his note book. We can imagine the deep distress of the poet until it was recovered. Hallam had made a deep impression on Tennyson's life and character. He was a congenial, winsome fellow. Hallam's death was a double shock to Tennyson. In the first place his friendship was clear and indissoluble. In the second place Hal-lam was betrothed to the poet's sister Emily at the time of his death. Thus Tennyson depicts his sorrow, varied feelings, love, etc., in the poem. Prof. Genung says the theme of the poem is: "That love is intrinsically immortal." He also divides the poem thus: Prologue. Introductory Stage I—XXVII. First Cycle—XXVIII—LXXVI1. Second Cycle—LXXVIII—CIII. Third Cycle—CIV—CXXXI. Epilogue. Clianibersburg, Pa. THE 3IEKCU1SY. IB THE HONOR SYSTEM SHOULD PREVAIL AT PENNSYL-VANIA COLLEGE. MARY M. BAUSCH, '11. iX.tlic discussion of this subject, first it must be shown what is meant by the honor system. By this we mean that men and women are put on their honor, that they are pledged to perform all duties with truth, with hon-esty, and with, fairness. They are pledged not to cheat. When a man is put on his honor he is given an opportunity to prove himself a responsible being. The honor system should prevail at Pennsylvania College for two reasons. First, because the morality of the student body would be improved. Second, because the reputation of the institution would be raised in the eyes of the public. The question may be ashed, Is there any honor in our student body? The only way to prove that this exists is to have the honor system introduced into the college government. When once a student is placed on his honor he comes to realization of his position. He is no longer a mere high school boy. He is a man and must be responsible. If he is not responsible he must be taught to be. And the only way to teach responsibility is by placing the student in a responsible position. This in itself is Fufficient reason why the honor system should prevail. Our honor is our most highly prized possession. Can we en-trust our honor to another? Can we place it in the care of pro-fessors, while under his instructions and receive it at will when we pass through the portals of the institution? The four years passed here are to the average student the most formative period of his life. This is the time for you to learn to depend on your-self, to be a leader even if you have not acquired ability suffici-ent to do so. The honor system will help to accomplish these things. It will arouse in the student the desire to do right. The objection is raised that the honor system does not make all honest. This is true. No system can make a man do his work honestly if he is determined to cheat. But a public feeling is aroused against cheating, this public feeling has greater influ-ence than anything else in governing man's actions. 1G THE HEKCUKY. For the honor system to succeed at Pennsylvania College it is necessary for the student to be willing to undergo the conditions which the honor system demands. He must be ready to inform against anyone who cheats. The student must be wholly impar-tial. He cannot allow private friendships and claims to inter-fere with the discharge of his duty. This is one of the greatest principles in the training of the future citizens for our country. A keen sense of honor is especially in demand in piiblic and pri-vate life. It is even more important than education. The educated man who lacks high moral character is more at a disad-vantage than the honest man who is uneducated. The honor system is a stimulus to better work in general. It does not cover examinations only, but it also covers assigned tasks and private work. Besides the greatest cheating does not occur in examinations. It occurs more in written work done out of the class-room where the authority of the instructor does not extend. For example the writing of themes and in mathemati-cal problems. It has been said, "To cheat is one thing, to cheat a teacher is another." This especially applies to private work over which the instructor has no immediate authority. The only way to root out this fault is through the honor system. For only through the students themselves can any reform in this di-rection take place. I have said that the honor system would raise the reputation of the college in the eyes of the public. The most important part of the college is its student body. The student in a large sense makes the college. If he is dishonest, he causes a shadow of dishonesty to be cast over the institution from which he is graduated. The value of his diploma is lowered when the pub-lic once learns that by cheating he is able to pass his examina-tions. The standard of the college is made manifest by the standard of integrity and ability of its students and alumni. If the honor system prevailed at Pennsylvania College, the faculty, or rather the individual professors would be relieved of a very unpleasant duty. The duty of a spy. The imputation that the professor is a policeman would be removed. This is a very strong reason why the honor system should be adopted here. There are many students who have good impulses but lack moral strength. We all recognize the power, a strong personality . u THE MERCURY. 17 has over a group of minds. The boy upon entering college is most easily influenced by the older memebrs of the institution. Xow, if a high sense of honor were fostered in the college, the morals of the Freshman would be strengthened by the example of high honor existing among i\pperelassmen. The student who sees a high standard of honor in a fellow-student may in time be brought to adopt it for himself. Again, there are students who object to giving help, both in examinations and in private work from a sense of honesty to their professors and from principle. Consequently they are open to much criticism. If the honor system were established, they would be supported by the student body as a whole and freed from the charge of selfishness and stinginess. Finally the honor system would be the means for rooting out the idler, the man who will not work, the man who depends on getting through on somebody else's goods. Many of our institutions have established the honor system in all departments and a number of them in several departments. Among those institutions where the honor system has proven suc-cessful are Princeton, Cornell, Lehigh, Virginia, Washington and Jefferson, Washington and Lee, North Carolina, Williams, and Amherst. The methods of teaching at our college are simi-lar to those of the above named institutions, and since in general the character of students is much the same, there is no reason why the honor system should not be as successful here as in those institutions. The only to test its efficiency is to try it. THE AMERICAN BUSINESS MAN. HARVEY W. STRAYER, '10. HE American business man is one who makes an honest effort to earn a livelihood. He is the marvel of the world. He is the culmination of American industrial development. He is the one great, single, vital force responsible for America's supremacy in commerce and industry. To him we must bow our thanks for an hundred comforts which were but yesterday luxuries. 18 THE MERCURY. Through the energy, perseverance, imagination and ingenuity of the business man, feats can be performed undreamed of by the most optimistic ancestor. He has bound our country together by bands of steel; he has harnessed Niagara and a thousand other water-falls and lighted our cities with that indefinable something —electricity. He has laid the Atlantic cable and made Great Britain our own neighbor. He has united New York with San Francisco and made the State of the Golden Gate our door-mat to the Orient. He has braved the dangers of the subterranean depths and digs up for our use the precious stones and metals, and pipes to the surface the no less precious fluids. These things the American business man has done and more. He is no longer subject to nature's laws but defying even the power of gravity, sails through the air whither-so-ever he will. The American business man is above all a man of ingenuity. He harnesses nature and guides her in her own work of produc-tion. In our western country, the arid plains of yesterday are the gardens of to-day. By great engineering feats, water streams are coaxed from original courses and by proper care are made to make the parched and burned desert to bloom and blossom as the rose. In a word our business men have made living a pleasure when a century ago it was a positive pain. But our description of the business man lacks perfection until we see him in his home. See him there and you have the secret of his success. For it is there he receives encouragement and inspiration from that fount of American helpfulness—the American woman. To speak, further of the business man in his relation to the home is needless for an American reader. You may think my eulogy overdone, for I am painting the business man at his best in the home and in the industries. But even this superb creature has defects, the greatest of which it the utilization of ever moment of time for family and self at the expense of the State. For our business men too often neglect to give even a moment to the nation—to the State—to the city. They are pigmies in politics and state-craft and invite upon themselves the opprobium of the more patriotic citizens. Under these conditions of indifference the unscrupulous poli-tician springs up even as the mushroom in the night, but alas! his tenacity for life is a thousand times that of the tender and THE MERCURY. 19 short-lived mushroom. dies and never resigns. "The unscrupulous politician seldom This was the truism expressed by Jef-ferson and this fact makes it a double task to root out the American grafter, once he has attained his power. But let us thank Providence, the seat of the grafter is not al-ways unshaken. There are always some honest business men aware of the public dishonesties; always somebody ready to lead the people in their crusades against public evils; always some men ready with public confidence behind them to clean the legis-lative halls of their reeking political filth. Such men as Berry of Pennsylvania, Folk of Missouri, and Heney of California, are simply repaid for their herculean tasks by the public confidence—a thing not measured in dollars and cents. Yes, we want our business men to be honest and our honest business men to be politicians. Not until our business men be-come politicians and place politics on the high plane where it deserves to be, can we hope for continued good government. If our public officials are not honest and our business men not politicians enough to understand the public questions of the day, we tremble for the perpetuity of our country. But there is a better spirit abroad in the land. Politics is being cleansed and officials are learning the lesson that public office is a public trust. Slowly but surely we are evolving the American business man who finds time for his community and his country. This busi-ness man then, supreme in the commercial world; loving in the-home; and watchful in the State will be the hope of the future. Trusting in him in the days to come, we expect our offices to be filled with men of unimpeached integrity and the destiny of our country to be made secure. 20 THE SIEECURY. NEITHER PESSIMISM NOR OPTIMISM. FLORENCE G. HEATHCOTE '10. |MOJS"G the philosophers who have flourished during past ages the most varied theories of the universe have pre-vailed. Some have radically propounded the theory of optimism while others advocated that of pessimism. Schopenhauer's is a philosophy of despair. His belief was that the world, in which we live, with its social conditions, is the worst that ever could exist. Thus unhappiness was the inevi-table and moral rule of the human life. Leibniz's idea of this life was diametrically opposed to that of Schopenhauer's; for him happiness greatly overbalanced the pain of this world and the present world-order is the best possible. But these same two ideas exist among every class of men. The Europeans, as a whole, are rather pessimistic. This is probably on account of their less progressive condition. The Americans, on the other hand, are considered to be very optimistic on ac-count of being in a condition of prosperity. Yet America has to-day many "Schopenhauer's" as well as "Leibnizs" and their theories are just as radical as those of either of these philoso-phers. For the truly pessimistic man of to-day unhappiness is the prime element of life and the quicker death comes, the better for him. His religious, social, and business activities appear to him as only things of misery and torture. It is very evident that there is very little progress in anything a man undertakes when he upholds such a theory. "Despair is death," is a true saying. The pessimist can do very little, if anything, for the uplift of the human race, and especially for the progress of his country, with such a sombre view of life. His gloomy theory paralyzes effort. His theory, however, is only a misrepresentation, which is due to the magnifying of the various misfortunes and sorrows of this life which he has experienced. He sees no honor or justice in anything and thus he deliberately rales God out of his thoughts entirely. In such a state of mind no one is able to appreciate nature or to help others to see the right. On the other hand a radical optimist is just as far from real- THE MEitcuny. 21 izing what this life really is as the pessimist with his dark view of the universe. The optimist has, indeed, heen one of the main factors in the steady development of our land, but he, too often, forgets what true happiness really means. Everything is life and sunshine to him; misfortunes are immediately overlooked without affecting his character in the least, and thus he is car-ried on by the whirl of success, forgetting all and only looking for his own selfish joy and pleasure. Yet he is helping to pro-mote a rapid growth, perhaps, in the industrial world, but with no other thought in view except his own selfish end. Thus he has no sympathy for those who are his inferiors financially or socially and in the end he must discover that his is not the truly great happiness after all. "A man's lot is not really happy when all his desires are always and fully realized, but when he obtains a proper share of joy and sorrow, success and failure, plenty and want, straggle and peace, work and rest, and obtains it at the right time." But the truth is that there must be a blending of the opti-mistic and the pessimistic ideas, if life would appear to us reah There should be sufficient recognition of evil, so as not to ignore its presence, and a due appreciation of the good, to serve as an inspiration to high endeavor. "Life is hope" and what benefit can there be derived if one is continually in despair. The dangers and misunderstandings are well balanced by the numer-ous gifts in nature and the joy of good health. Our nation can advance only if its citizens have a "common-sense" view of life. It is by pain and persecution that their characters can be strengthened to fight the battles of life. Some great scholar has said, "This earth is dear to mortal men, not merely in spite of its tears and crosses, but also on account of them." It has been just through those men, who have held the "com-mon- sense" view that our nation is what it is to-day. Their foremost thought has been that the first thing to be done is to care for one's fellow-men. Through this noble thought there have been innumerable improvements along all lines. To make life pleasant and enjoyable for man, the construction of rail-roads, telephone, and telegraph lines have been accomplished. Useful arts and sciences have been inculcated; free schools and 22 I'll E .MI'.IICIJIIY. colleges have been opened; public libraries and churches have been erected all over the country. Even criminals of to-day are put into healthy and clean prisons where they are compelled :to do some work or to learn a trade. One of the great fruits of man's helping his fellow-men is very evident in the provision of free sanitoriums for curing various diseases and the preven-tion of epidemics. In a land where there is so much liberty offered to all and whose laws are so just, every citizen should endeavor to do his best for its welfare and advancement. To sit idly by and look at its darkest side or its brightest side will never be fruitful of any good, but let us be encouraged by the good and do our best in abolishing evil so that "this government of the people, for the people, and by the people may never perish from the earth." DOES SMOKING AND DRINKING INTERFERE WITH IN-TELLECTUAL PROGRESS. II. F. BAUGIIMAN, '10. NE of the most familiar terms used in athletic circles is the term "training." By it is expressed careful selec-tion of diet, early bed hours, clean morals and above all a strict abstinence from alcoholic beverages and to-bacco. The trainers and players all recognize the evil effects of these dissipations upon the physical system, so when football and track seasons at college come around, the candidates for these teams sign a pledge to "keep training." Perhaps after these di-versions have passed out of season, the same men who have trained faithfully for weeks may "break training" and drink and carouse as though attempting to make up for time lost. At least most men at college indulge in the use of tobacco, and a few in the use of intoxicants. 3Tow it is suggested that if such indulgences are not good for the physical system, are they not also detrimental to intellectual progress? From the statements given above it wovild appear that the majority of students think they are not, but we must remember that men do not always do THE MEBCUEY. 23 what is of the most advantage to them. We will consider the effects of each separately upon the mind, taking smoking first as it is most prevalent. Medical science shows us that smoking, especially cigarette smoking, is most injurious to the brain tissues. The smoker in-hales the poisonous nicotine and it is taken to the lungs where the blood is carried for purification, instead of receiving cleans-ing, it is acted upon by this freighted with poisonous matter. This blood is carried to the brain, there to feed the tissues with poison. Of course not all the poison is carried by the blood, be-cause the blood corpuscles and other scavengers act upon it to purify it, but they are taxed excessively by this extra task and sooner or later these organs lose part of their power and permit more poison to be carried to the brain to build up unhealthy tis-sues, which of course cannot perform their functions to any great degree, thus hindering intellectual progress. Men of experience have recognized the injurious effects of the poison, and legislators in many States are working for legisla-tion which will keep this cause of mental and physical degenera-tion from the boys in school; they recognize the fact that sound, healthy minds cannot develop in bodies that are poisoned by the same substance which must be carried also to the brain. Ke-cently in the "Philadelphia Press" there was an account of the case of a school boy whose excessive practice of the cigarette habit cost him his liberty. The account states that his mind was dulled and the boy was becoming incorrigible. This shows the effect of smoking upon one child, and its effects must be simi-lar, though not always to so great a degree, upon every smoker. Certainly the habit hinders greatly intellectual progress. Drinking is much more injurious and its effects are more plainly seen than the effects of smoking. Alcohol has a deaden-ing effect upon a man's mental powers which is well manifested while he is under the influence of liquor. He regains his pow-ers to a certain degree soon after the stimulant loses its power, hut he cannot forever do this. Gradually the brain must weaken, because a man cannot abuse any organ repeatedly without its having an evil effect upon that organ. I have seen performed an experiment with alcohol on the brain of a pigeon. When the alcohol came in contact with the tissues 24 THE MEIiCtfUY. the whole mass stiffened and congealed and remained so for quite a while. This is what happens to a less degree in a man's brain when he becomes subject to drink. The blood always carries the poison to the brain and there is does its harmful work. The ha-bitual drinker so impairs his mental powers that at last he loses 1hem entirely and becomes insane; there are perhaps more cases of insanity due to drink than to all other caiises combined. Now the liquor must have the same effect on every brain in propor-tion to the amount used and the strength of that organ for re-sisting, so no one can indulge in alcoholic beverages without im-paring his mind, and he must of necessity hinder his own men-tal progress. Smoking and drinking interfere most effectively with intel-lectual progress, and the man who wishes to always have a clear brain and do rational thinking to a point of supermacy must ab-stain from these indulgences. SPAIN'S CRIME. EARL S. RUDISILIi, '12. IING ALFONSO of Spain, in ten minutes rendered fruitless his country's ten-year diplomatic struggle for a place among the world powers when he permitted the execution of Professor Francisco Ferrer. Investiga-tions have shown that Ferrer was entirely innocent of the charge laid at his door and even if this had not been proven, the con-demnation of such a scholar against the will of all Europe, could not but reflect on the intelligence of the Spanish Government and impair its influence with the other powers. Professor Ferrer was a man of courage and great principles, a firm believer in democracy and the founder of the "Modern Schools" in Spain. It was his manly courage that spoke forth when he uttered his last words, "Aim straight; long live the Modern Schools." His democratic spirit was the indirect cause of his execution, for it was on account of this spirit that he was suspected of partaking in the outbreaks in Cataloma and Barce- THE MERCURY. lona. As the founder of schools, lie rendered the same service to Spain which our Thaddeus Stevens rendered to Pennsylva-nia and in both instances was it done in spite of strong opposi-tion. During the last decade Spain has been regaining much of the importance and influence which she seemed to have lost. Since she has been without colonial possessions she has been conserv-ing her resources for domestic improvements and great things have been accomplished. Railroads have been built, agriculture has become more important, commerce has increased and Span-ish influence at court has been doubled. Her relations with ■neighboring nations have become closer. The marriage of the king to the English Victoria has drawn England and Spain closer than ever while France also has become more closely con-nected with her. All this has taken place since the war with the United States and that conflict was largely responsible for it. Even Alfonso himself, has declared that the war was a blessing in disguise. ISTow in the midst of prosperity and improvement Spain has blighted her progress by a self-inflicted wound, and greatly im-paired her increasing prestige among the powers. Instead of friendly greetings she has received from all the world condemna-tion, and King Alfonso, who signed the death Avarrant, by shift-ing the blame on to his prime minister, caused the resignation of the entire cabinet. The government was demoralized. However, the king has appointed a new cabinet with Senor Moret at its head and it will act with a conciliatory policy but it cannot bring back to life the martyr.ed Ferrer, nor can it re-store the moral order of things so soon as it was broken. It will be an uphill struggle and one not soon over, for such a gross de-fiance of moral law will not soon be forgotten. May the future of Spain profit by the past. 26 THE MERCURY. THE POSSIBILITIES FOR IMPROVEMENTS IN GETTYSBURG. HARVEY S. HOSHOUR, "10. E it located where it may, there is no town in America which has been so honored and so revered, as Gettys-burg. This little village among the hills is known the world over. To the foreigner it is the scene of one of the world's most decisive battles; to the American it marks the turning point of the struggle which meant national life to our country; to the Gettysburg man it means all this and more. Four years' sojourn at Gettysburg cannot but add with a peculiar emphasis to our appreciation of the last full measure of devo-tion of those who fought here. But for us there is more than even this. Surrounded by the battlefield at the outskirts of town there is a little college which to every Gettysburg student is one of the dearest places on earth. This is our Alma Mater. It is a small college but there are those who love it. There is a certain atmosphere pervading the place, which seems to have taken the best from the ordinary college town life and happily blended it with the historical halo which surrounds all fields of battle. So far as the town is concerned there seem to be but few chances for improvements. It is not that the place is perfect, but it seems to me that development has already been made along the proper lines and that any departure from them in prin-ciple, would be detrimental. For example, the plan has been to make Gettysburg a residential place and not an industrial com-munity. Development along these lines is the thing needed, not any change in them. It may seem old-fashioned to argue in this strain and the objection would be justified in many places, but for Gettysburg there is a difference. Gettysburg may live behind the times of the modern factory community, but we live, not merely subsist, as is done in many such localities. To me it seems that residential growth is to be encouraged, the old tradi-tions preserved, and factory development discouraged, if Get-tysburg is to be really improved as a town. THE JIEKCUKY. 27 As a college the conditions are somewhat different. There are many radical improvements needed which do not seem to me to be a detriment to the spirit in which the institution has been fostered. The new science hall, the Y. M. C. A. building, the new gymnasium, and the newly arranged curriculum are all needed improvements. A better arrangement of the dormitory life should be attempted. The experience of other colleges seem to justify the efficacy of allowing the various fraternities to pro-vide their own sleeping departments. If this is not done, a new dormitory should be erected in the near future. While improvements in the college curriculum are strongly urged, a departure from the old classical standards is far from being desired. Gettysburg is first of all a school of classical traditions, which are too dear to every alumnus and undergradu-ate, to be discarded. We urge the addition of new courses, but not the abandonment of the old ones. This may seem to be an argument in favor of the life which lives behind the times and to a certain extent it is. Our traditions are dear to us and they last with a tenacity which only such a place as Gettysburg could develop. Every college man lores his Alma Mater, if he is worthy of her name, but the Gettysburg man has something more than this. With four years of such life as we live here, one forms a fabric-work of dreams so to speak, which, if it break or be shattered, was only an influence for good, and which if it lasts through one's lifetime is bound to be an acting force in every man's life. T^ ERCURV Entered fit the I'ostoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1909 No. 7 Editor in-Chief SAMUEL FAUSOLD, 'IO. Exchange Editor G. E. BOWERSOX, 'io Business Manager PAUL S. MILLER, 'IO Ass't Bus. Managers C. M. ALLABACH, 'II S. T. BAKER, 'II Assistant Editor RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'IO Associate Editors E. J. BOWMAN, 'II C. M. DAVIS, 'II Advisory Board PROF. G. F. SANDERS, A. M. PROF. P. M. BIKXE, FH. D. PROF. C. J. GRIMM, Pit. D. Published each month, from October to June-inclusive, by the joint literary Societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be ac-companied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. OF tilings worth while, we often consider whether it is worth the time and money for women to re-ceive a college education. When we glance at the Greeks, we find it was the disgrace and finally the ruin of their civilization that their wives were uneducated. There vir-tue and ignorance, vice and culture were hand in hand, but America has always been distinguished for judgment and justice accorded THE MERCURY. 29 to the gentler sex. Although there is great antagonism as to the co-ed idea, yet we, being thrust into the environment of them and seeing their scholarship and influence, are convinced of their ability to successfully compete with their brothers in every field of study and research. The alumni of our colleges are seeing to it that their hoys are being educated and are urging them to work for greater college facilities. It is such spirit that has created such female institutions as Barnard, Wellesley, Smith and Vassar. Glancingatthe co-ed educational training at Cornell as to their effect on young men, we find that they have cultivated the best traits and most chivalric characteristics of manhood. Their am-bition and success have stimulated every department of college and university to a more earnest effort and higher ideal. Ignorance is no longer an excuse for keeping others ignorant, and to-day college education fits the female for the field which needs her labor, and the world is made richer for her skill and fidelity and better, too, for the independence, that we can do nothing better but quote the words of Pope: "Tis education forms the common mind, Just as the twig is bent, the tree inclined." THE TRUE To-day we hear much concerning the meeaninar PERSPEC- ° TIVE. of that modest word, "success." What constitutes success? It all depends upon the viewpoint, upon the perspec-tive. Hence at one glance, we obtain a realizing sense of the im-portance of perspective. No two persons have the same perspec-tive. The educational and hereditary traits are different for each of us. Hence our perspectives are affected differently. We all see tilings through glasses more or less colored by prejudice and bias. Although our perspectives are very different, they are not necessarily wrong. The farmer boy from Illinois will have an entirely different perspective from the son of a New York millionaire, and yet the two perspectives may be legitimate in every sense. But, that these young men should have the true perspectives of life, they must have a true sense of values. 30 THE MERCURY. It is the same with us all. We must spend a great part of out-lives in attaining the right perspective. The success of one's college career depends largely upon his sense of values. Shall the college student bend his energies in one direction or shall he aim at becoming the "all around man?" Shall he be a recluse, neglecting the social life entirely? Shall he be a social butter-fly, without intellectual ambitions? Shall he strike a happy medium between these extremes? The college student who thinks of nothing but football is a pitiable spectacle. That student is narrow—narrow in every sense, and yet the student who cannot enjoy a lively energetic football game is also to be pitied. The true perspective of life as the world sees it is to work hard, play hard, and at the same time to practice the simple life. This is the aim of the small college—to give one the right per-spective ; to give him lofty ideals, and to place in his hands the means of attaining them. Let us, therefore, second the college in her efforts: let us learn what is worth while and then go after it. GOOD The contention as to what constitutes good reading READING, is an old one. The idea that "No book is so bad but that there is some good in it," has few ardent supporters to-day. There may be something of value in every book but too often that thing of value is neutralized by the baneful. Tell me, good reader, how much of good there is in a novel such as that one en-titled, "A Woman's Temptation," by Bertha Clay. To see a col-lege man read such a book would be ludicrous, were it not that the waste of profitable time has a serious side to it. We admit that the so-called light reading may sometimes be justifiable as a temporary diversion, but let that light reading be from the more admirable writers. Why not read something from Washington Irving, Dickens, or even Jules Vernes in pref-erence to the silly, contemptible, sensational novels which flood our country. To possess a taste for really good literature is a mark of cul-ture, and true appreciation of the masters of our language is not ___^^__ THE MERCURY. 31 attained by the perusal of second-rate productions. No college man can afford to be lacking in intimacy with such men as Mil-ton, Shakespeare, Burns, Emerson and all the others who form that brilliant galaxy of pensmen that has given imperishable fame to the English language. j* EXCHANGES. IHE November exchanges are especially attractive, many being special Thanksgiving numbers, and containing essays and poems suitable to the great national holiday. We notice in reading the various papers that much of the material is contributed by alumni of the various schools. In some instances the entire literary section of the papers are given to alumni productions. What does this indicate ? In one respect it shows a healthy alumni spirit which is indeed com-mendable and in many respects desired. But on the other hand it displays a lack of literary interest on the part of the present generation of students or a disposition on the part of some edi-tors to sacrifice the best interests of their fellow-students in order to fill the magazine with articles having a higher degree of polish. After all the college paper is primarily the students' pa-per, and when it once loses the interest caused by the personal touch given by student articles, its time of service to the college community is ended. We must therefore conclude that when-ever possible literary departments should be filled with good, live articles by those in direct touch with the college life. The literary department of "The Western Maryland College Monthly" is again well filled with interesting articles, the ora-tion, "The Submerged Truth," deals in a broad and clear man-ner with the great problem of the poor in our industrial divi-sions. "The American Home" pictures in a pleasing style, and with patriotic light this greatest of American institutions. "How They Changed Their minds," and "The Eeturn of the Wan-derer" are hardly equal to the usual standard of short stories found in your magazine. We consider "The Haverfordian" as among the best exchanges we receive. Its literary tone and pleasing style are necessary 32 THE MERCURY. characteristics of a good college paper. The numerous short poems always found in its pages, shows that the love and appre-ciation of poetry still exists at Haverford. "The Albright Bulletin" contains some literary productions of high order. Its leading article, "Beacon Lights of American Poetry," is of high merit. Its author pays a glowing tribute to the world-honored Bryant. Yet we believe too much praise can-not be given a poet, who has painted pictures such as has Bryant, or who has moralized as he has in his immortal "Thanatopsis." The mild and gentle Longfellow is fairly dealt with. Oft times we are inclined to think slightingly of Longfellow because he lacks that profundity of thought found in Bryant, Lowell, and Emerson, but we must never forget that "his life and work stand as a true poem." In the article, "A Crisis in Great Britain," a powerful argument in favor of our protective system is pre-sented. A GLIMPSE OF MOONLIGHT. The moon comes up with sudden light, And each star fades to a distant spark, And from the valleys, the gloom of night, And from the hills the dark. The mountains slumber against the skies, And fade in the distance far away- Arid the wind weaves beaiitiful mysteries On the mist where the moonbeams play. And far away, in the moonlight fair, Runs the thread of a silver stream; And (lie white mists float on the soft night air, As tin angel floats through dream. —From the •'•'Southern Collegian." PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. I"N this Drama of Four Year's Course, Play your part without dad's horse ; This to do is up to you With just a little tact between each yearly act, In some domain take a stroll And sell ALUMINUM for next year's Me (roll). Every summer Uuudreds of students make BIG MONEY selliug Aluminum Cooking Uteusils. For particulars address LOUIS HETZEL, Gettysburg College, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE STEWART & STEEN CO., COLLEGE ENGRAVERS, 1024 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA. MAKERS OF INVITATIONS, PROGBAMS, MENUS, VISITING CARDS, DANCE CARDS, MONOGRAMS, CLASS AND FRATERNITY STATIONERY. P. S. 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Daniel Deudney on Mixed Ontology, Planetary Geopolitics, and Republican Greenpeace



This is the second in a series of Talks dedicated to the technopolitics of International Relations, linked to the forthcoming double volume 'The Global Politics of Science and Technology' edited by Maximilian Mayer, Mariana Carpes, and Ruth Knoblich 






World politics increasingly abrasions with the limits of state-centric thinking, faced as the world is with a set of issues that affect not only us collectively as mankind, but also the planet itself. While much of IR theorizing seems to shirk such realizations, the work of Daniel Deudney has consistently engaged with the complex problems engendered by the entanglements of nuclear weapons, the planetary environment, space exploration, and the kind of political associations that might help us to grapple with our fragile condition as humanity-in-the world. In this elaborate Talk, Deudney—amongst others—lays out his understanding of the fundamental forces that drive both planetary political progress and problems; discusses the kind of ontological position needed to appreciate these problems; and argues for the merits of a republican greenpeace model to political organization.





Print version of this Talk (pdf)







What is, according to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?



The study of politics is the study of human politics and the human situation has been—and is being—radically altered by changes in the human relationships with the natural and material worlds. In my view, this means IR and related intellectual disciplines should focus on better understanding the emergence of the 'global' and the 'planetary,' their implications for the overall human world and its innumerable sub-worlds, and their relations with the realization of basic human needs. The global and the planetary certainly don't comprise all of the human situation, but the fact that the human situation has become global and planetary touches every other facet of the human situation, sometimes in fundamental ways. The simple story is that the human world is now 'global and planetary' due to the explosive transformation over the last several centuries of science-based technology occurring within the geophysical and biophysical features of planet Earth. The natural Earth and its relationship with humans have been massively altered by the vast amplifications in dispersed human agency produced by the emergence and spread of machine-based civilization. The overall result of these changes has been the emergence of a global- and planetary-scale material and social reality that is in some ways similar, but in other important ways radically different, from earlier times. Practices and structures inherited from the pre-global human worlds have not adequately been adjusted to take the new human planetary situation into account and their persistence casts a long and partially dark shadow over the human prospect.



A global and planetary focus is also justified—urgently—by the fact that the overall human prospect on this planet, and the fate of much additional life on this planet, is increasingly dependent on the development and employment of new social arrangements for interacting with these novel configurations of material and natural possibilities and limits. Human agency is now situated, and is making vastly fateful choices—for better or worse—in a sprawling, vastly complex aggregation of human-machine-nature assemblies which is our world. The 'fate of the earth' now partly hinges on human choices, and helping to make sure these choices are appropriate ones should be the paramount objective of political scientific and theoretical efforts. However, no one discipline or approach is sufficient to grapple successfully with this topic. All disciplines are necessary. But there are good reasons to believe that 'IR' and related disciplines have a particularly important possible practical role to play. (I am also among those who prefer 'global studies' as a label for the enterprise of answering questions that cut across and significantly subsume both the 'international' and the 'domestic.')



My approach to grappling with this topic is situated—like the work of now vast numbers of other IR theorists and researchers of many disciplines—in the study of 'globalization.' The now widely held starting point for this intellectual effort is the realization that globalization has been the dominant pattern or phenomenon, the story of stories, over at least the last five centuries. Globalization has been occurring in military, ecological, cultural, and economic affairs. And I emphasize—like many, but not all, analysts of globalization—that the processes of globalization are essentially dependent on new machines, apparatuses, and technologies which humans have fabricated and deployed. Our world is global because of the astounding capabilities of machine civilization. This startling transformation of human choice by technological advance is centrally about politics because it is centrally about changes in power. Part of this power story has been about changes in the scope and forms of domination. Globalization has been, to state the point mildly, 'uneven,' marked by amplifications of violence and domination and predation on larger and wider scales. Another part of the story of the power transformation has been the creation of a world marked by high degrees of interdependence, interaction, speed, and complexity. These processes of globalization and the transformation of machine capabilities are not stopping or slowing down but are accelerating. Thus, I argue that 'bounding power'—the growth, at times by breathtaking leaps, of human capabilities to do things—is now a fundamental feature of the human world, and understanding its implications should, in my view, be a central activity for IR scholars.



In addressing the topic of machine civilization and its globalization on Earth, my thinking has been centered first around the developing of 'geopolitical' lines argument to construct a theory of 'planetary geopolitics'. 'Geopolitics' is the study of geography, ecology, technology, and the earth, and space and place, and their interaction with politics. The starting point for geopolitical analysis is accurate mapping. Not too many IR scholars think of themselves as doing 'geography' in any form. In part this results from of the unfortunate segregation of 'geography' into a separate academic discipline, very little of which is concerned with politics. Many also mistake the overall project of 'geopolitics' with the ideas, and egregious mistakes and political limitations, of many self-described 'geopoliticans' who are typically arch-realists, strong nationalists, and imperialists. Everyone pays general lip service to the importance of technology, but little interaction occurs between IR and 'technology studies' and most IR scholars are happy to treat such matters as 'technical' or non-political in character. Despite this general theoretical neglect, many geographic and technological factors routinely pop into arguments in political science and political theory, and play important roles in them.



Thinking about the global and planetary through the lens of a fuller geopolitics is appealing to me because it is the human relationship with the material world and the Earth that has been changed with the human world's globalization. Furthermore, much of the actual agendas of movements for peace, arms control, and sustainability are essentially about alternative ways of ordering the material world and our relations with it. Given this, I find an approach that thinks systematically about the relations between patterns of materiality and different political forms is particularly well-suited to provide insights of practical value for these efforts.



The other key focus of my research has been around extending a variety of broadly 'republican' political insights for a cluster of contemporary practical projects for peace, arms control, and environmental stewardship ('greenpeace'). Even more than 'geopolitics,' 'republicanism' is a term with too many associations and meanings. By republics I mean political associations based on popular sovereignty and marked by mutual limitations, that is, by 'bounding power'—the restraint of power, particularly violent power—in the interests of the people generally. Assuming that security from the application of violence to bodies is a primary (but not sole) task of political association, how do republican political arrangements achieve this end? I argue that the character and scope of power restraint arrangements that actually serve the fundamental security interests of its popular sovereign varies in significant ways in different material contexts.



Republicanism is first and foremost a domestic form, centered upon the successive spatial expansion of domestic-like realms, and the pursuit of a constant political project of maximally feasible ordered freedom in changed spatial and material circumstances. I find thinking about our global and planetary human situation from the perspective of republicanism appealing because the human global and planetary situation has traits—most notably high levels of interdependence, interaction, practical speed, and complexity—that make it resemble our historical experience of 'domestic' and 'municipal' realms. Thinking with a geopolitically grounded republicanism offers insights about global governance very different from the insights generated within the political conceptual universe of hierarchical, imperial, and state-centered political forms. Thus planetary geopolitics and republicanism offers a perspective on what it means to 'Think Globally and Act Locally.' If we think of, or rather recognize, the planet as our locality, and then act as if the Earth is our locality, then we are likely to end up doing various approximations of the best-practice republican forms that we have successfully developed in our historically smaller domestic localities.





How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?



Like anybody else, the formative events in my intellectual development have been shaped by the thick particularities of time and place. 'The boy is the father of the man,' as it is said. The first and most direction-setting stage in the formation of my 'green peace' research interests was when I was in 'grade school,' roughly the years from age 6-13. During these years my family lived in an extraordinary place, St Simons Island, a largely undeveloped barrier island off the coast of southern Georgia. This was an extremely cool place to be a kid. It had extensive beaches, and marshes, as well as amazing trees of gargantuan proportions. My friends and I spent much time exploring, fishing, camping out, climbing trees, and building tree houses. Many of these nature-immersion activities were spontaneous, others were in Boy Scouts. This extraordinary natural environment and the attachments I formed to it, shaped my strong tendency to see the fates of humans and nature as inescapably intertwined. But the Boy Scouts also instilled me with a sense of 'virtue ethics'. A line from the Boy Scout Handbook captures this well: 'Take a walk around your neighborhood. Make a list of what is right and wrong about it. Make a plan to fix what is not right.' This is a demotic version of Weber's political 'ethic of responsibility.' This is very different from the ethics of self-realization and self-expression that have recently gained such ground in America and elsewhere. It is now very 'politically incorrect' to think favorably of the Boy Scouts, but I believe that if the Scouting experience was universally accessible, the world would be a much improved place.



My kid-in-nature life may sound very Tom Sawyer, but it was also very Tom Swift. My friends and I spent much of our waking time reading about the technological future, and imaginatively play-acting in future worlds. This imaginative world was richly fertilized by science fiction comic books, television shows, movies, and books. Me and my friends—juvenile technological futurists and techno-nerds in a decidedly anti-intellectual culture—were avid readers of Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Ray Bradbury, and Robert Heinlein, and each new issue of Analog was eagerly awaited. While we knew we were Americans, my friends and I had strong inclinations to think of ourselves most essentially as 'earthlings.' We fervently discussed extraterrestrial life and UFOs, and we eagerly awaited the day, soon to occur, we were sure, in which we made 'first contact.' We wanted to become, if not astronauts, then designers and builders of spaceships. We built tree houses, but we filled them with discarded electronics and they became starships. We rode bicycles, but we lugged about attaché cases filled with toy ray guns, transistor radios, firecrackers, and homemade incendiary devices. We built and fired off rockets, painstaking assembled plastic kit models of famous airplanes and ships, and then we would blow them apart with our explosives. The future belonged to technology, and we fancied ourselves its avant garde.



Yet the prospect of nuclear Armageddon seemed very real. We did 'duck and cover' drills at school, and sat for two terrifying weeks through the Cuban Missile Crisis. My friends and I had copies of the Atomic Energy Commission manuals on 'nuclear effects,' complete with a slide-rule like gadget that enabled us to calculate just what would happen if near-by military bases were obliterated by nuclear explosions. Few doubted that we were, in the words of a pop song, 'on the eve of destruction.' These years were also the dawning of 'the space age' in which humans were finally leaving the Earth and starting what promised to be an epic trek, utterly transformative in its effects, to the stars. My father worked for a number of these years for a large aerospace military-industrial firm, then working for NASA to build the very large rockets needed to launch men and machines to the moon and back. My friends and I debated fantastical topics, such as the pros and cons of emigrating to Mars, and how rapidly a crisis-driven exodus from the earth could be organized.



Two events that later occurred in the area where I spent my childhood served as culminating catalytic events for my greenpeace thinking. First, some years after my family moved away, the industrial facility to mix rocket fuel that had been built by the company my father worked for, and that he had helped put into operation, was struck by an extremely violent 'industrial accident,' which reduced, in one titanic flash, multi-story concrete and steel buildings filled with specialized heavy industrial machinery (and everyone in them) into a grey powdery gravel ash, no piece of which was larger than a fist. Second, during the late 1970s, the US Navy acquired a large tract of largely undeveloped marsh and land behind another barrier island (Cumberland), an area 10-15 miles from where I had lived, a place where I had camped, fished, and hunted deer. The Navy dredged and filled what was one of the most biologically fertile temperate zone estuaries on the planet. There they built the east coast base for the new fleet of Trident nuclear ballistic missile submarines, the single most potent violence machine ever built, thus turning what was for me the wildest part of my wild-encircled childhood home into one of the largest nuclear weapons complexes on earth. These events catalyzed for me the realization that there was a great struggle going on, for the Earth and for the future, and I knew firmly which side I was on.



My approach to thinking about problems was also strongly shaped by high school debate, where I learned the importance of 'looking at questions from both sides,' and from this stems my tendency to look at questions as debates between competing answers, and to focus on decisively engaging, defeating, and replacing the strongest and most influential opposing positions. As an undergraduate at Yale College, I started doing Political Theory. I am sure that I was a very vexing student in some ways, because (the debater again) I asked Marxist questions to my liberal and conservative professors, and liberal and conservative ones to my Marxist professors. Late in my sophomore year, I had my epiphany, my direction-defining moment, that my vocation would be an attempt to do the political theory of the global and the technological. Since then, the only decisions have been ones of priority and execution within this project.



Wanting to learn something about cutting-edge global and technological and issues, I next went to Washington D.C. for seven years. I worked on Capitol Hill for three and a half years as a policy aide, working on energy and conservation and renewable energy and nuclear power. I spent the other three and a half years as a Senior Researcher at the Worldwatch Institute, a small environmental and global issues think tank that was founded and headed by Lester Brown, a well-known and far-sighted globalist. I co-authored a book about renewable energy and transitions to global sustainability and wrote a study on space and space weapons. At the time I published Whole Earth Security: a Geopolitics of Peace (1983), in which my basic notions of planetary geopolitics and republicanism were first laid out. During these seven years in Washington, I also was a part-time student, earning a Master's degree in Science, Technology and Public Policy at George Washington University.



In all, these Washington experiences have been extremely valuable for my thinking. Many political scientists view public service as a low or corrupting activity, but this is, I think, very wrong-headed. The reason that the democratic world works as well as it does is because of the distributive social intelligence. But social intelligence is neither as distributed nor as intelligent as it needs to be to deal with many pressing problems. My experience as a Congressional aide taught me that most of the problems that confront my democracy are rooted in various limits and corruptions of the people. I have come to have little patience with those who say, for example, rising inequality is inherent in capital C capitalism, when the more proximate explanation is that the Reagan Republican Party was so successful in gutting the progressive tax system previously in place in the United States. Similarly, I see little value in claims, to take a very contemporary example, that 'the NSA is out of control' when this agency is doing more or less what the elected officials, responding to public pressures to provide 'national security' loudly demanded. In democracies, the people are ultimately responsible.



As I was immersed in the world of arms control and environmental activism I was impressed by the truth of Keynes's oft quoted line, about the great practical influence of the ideas of some long-dead 'academic scribbler.' This is true in varying degrees in every issue area, but in some much more than others. This reinforced my sense that great potential practical consequence of successfully innovating in the various conceptual frameworks that underpinned so many important activities. For nuclear weapons, it became clear to me that the problem was rooted in the statist and realist frames that people so automatically brought to a security question of this magnitude.



Despite the many appeals of a career in DC politics and policy, this was all for me an extended research field-trip, and so I left Washington to do a PhD—a move that mystified many of my NGO and activist friends, and seemed like utter folly to my political friends. At Princeton University, I concentrated on IR, Political Theory, and Military History and Politics, taking courses with Robert Gilpin, Richard Falk, Barry Posen, Sheldon Wolin and others. In my dissertation—entitled Global Orders: Geopolitical and Materialist Theories of the Global-Industrial Era, 1890-1945—I explored IR and related thinking about the impacts of the industrial revolution as a debate between different world order alternatives, and made arguments about the superiority of liberalist, internationalist, and globalist arguments—most notably from H.G. Wells and John Dewey—to the strong realist and imperialist ideas most commonly associated with the geopolitical writers of this period.



I also continued engaging in activist policy affiliated to the Program on Nuclear Policy Alternatives at the Center for Energy andEnvironmental Studies (CEES), which was then headed by Frank von Hippel, a physicist turned 'public interest scientist', and a towering figure in the global nuclear arms control movement. I was a Post Doc at CEES during the Gorbachev era and I went on several amazing and eye-opening trips to the Soviet Union. Continuing my space activism, I was able to organize workshops in Moscow and Washington on large-scale space cooperation, gathering together many of the key space players on both sides. While Princeton was fabulously stimulating intellectually, it was also a stressful pressure-cooker, and I maintained my sanity by making short trips, two of three weekends, over six years, to Manhattan, where I spent the days working in the main reading room of the New York Public Library and the nights partying and relaxing in a world completely detached from academic life.



When it comes to my intellectual development in terms of reading theory, the positive project I wanted to pursue was partially defined by approaches I came to reject. Perhaps most centrally, I came to reject an approach that was very intellectually powerful, even intoxicating, and which retains great sway over many, that of metaphysical politics. The politics of the metaphysicians played a central role in my coming to reject the politics of metaphysics. The fact that some metaphysical ideas and the some of the deep thinkers who advanced them, such as Heidegger, and many Marxists, were so intimately connected with really disastrous politics seemed a really damning fact for me, particularly given that these thinkers insisted so strongly on the link between their metaphysics and their politics. I was initially drawn to Nietzsche's writing (what twenty-year old isn't) but his model of the philosopher founder or law-giver—that is, of a spiritually gifted but alienated guy (and it always is a guy) with a particularly strong but frustrated 'will to power' going into the wilderness, having a deep spiritual revelation, and then returning to the mundane corrupt world with new 'tablets of value,' along with a plan to take over and run things right—seemed more comic than politically relevant, unless the prophet is armed, in which case it becomes a frightful menace. The concluding scene in Herman Hesse's Magister Ludi (sometimes translated as The Glass Bead Game) summarized by overall view of the 'high theory' project. After years of intense training by the greatest teachers the most spiritually and intellectually gifted youths finally graduate. To celebrate, they go to lake, dive in, and, having not learned how to swim, drown.



I was more attracted to Aristotle, Hume, Montesquieu, Dewey and other political theorists with less lofty and comprehensive views of what theory might accomplish; weary of actions; based on dogmatic or totalistic thinking; an eye to the messy and compromised world; with a political commitment to liberty and the interests of the many; a preference for peace over war; an aversion to despotism and empire; and an affinity for tolerance and plurality. I also liked some of those thinkers because of their emphasis on material contexts. Montesquieu seeks to analyze the interaction of material contexts and republican political forms; Madison and his contemporaries attempt to extend the spatial scope of republican political association by recombining in novel ways various earlier power restraint arrangements. I was tremendously influenced by Dewey, studying intensively his slender volume The Public and its Problems (1927)—which I think is the most important book in twentieth century political thought. By the 'public' Dewey means essentially a stakeholder group, and his main point is that the material transformations produced by the industrial revolution has created new publics, and that the political task is to conceptualize and realize forms of community and government appropriate to solving the problems that confront these new publics.



One can say my overall project became to apply and extend their concepts to the contemporary planetary situation. Concomitantly reading IR literature on nuclear weapons, I was struck by fact that the central role that material realities played in these arguments was very ad hoc, and that many of the leading arguments on nuclear politics were very unconvincing. It was clear that while Waltz (Theory Talk #40) had brilliantly developed some key ideas about anarchy made by Hobbes and Rousseau, he had also left something really important out. These sorts of deficiencies led me to develop the arguments contained in Bounding Power. I think it is highly unlikely that I would have had these doubts, or come to make the arguments I made without having worked in political theory and in policy.



I read many works that greatly influenced my thinking in this area, among them works by Lewis Mumford, Langdon Winner's Autonomous Technology, James Lovelock's Gaia, Charles Perrow's Normal Accidents (read a related article here, pdf), Jonathan Schell's Fate of the Earth and The Abolition, William Ophul's Ecology and the Politics of Scarcity... I was particularly stuck by a line in Buckminster Fuller's Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth (pdf), that we live in a 'spaceship' like closed highly interconnected system, but lack an 'operating manual' to guide intelligently our actions. It was also during this period that I read key works by H.G. Wells, most notably his book, Anticipations, and his essay The Idea of a League of Nations, both of which greatly influenced my thinking.



This aside, the greatest contribution to my thinking has come from conversations sustained over many years with some really extraordinary individuals. To mention those that I have been arguing with, and learning from, for at least ten years, there is John O'Looney, Wesley Warren, Bob Gooding-Williams, Alyn McAuly, Henry Nau, Richard Falk, Michael Doyle (Theory Talk #1), Richard Mathew, Paul Wapner, Bron Taylor, Ron Deibert, John Ikenberry, Bill Wohlforth, Frank von Hippel, Ethan Nadelmann, Fritz Kratochwil, Barry Buzan (Theory Talk #35), Ole Waever, John Agnew (Theory Talk #4), Barry Posen, Alex Wendt (Theory Talk #3), James der Derian, David Hendrickson, Nadivah Greenberg, Tim Luke, Campbell Craig, Bill Connolly, Steven David, Jane Bennett, Daniel Levine (TheoryTalk #58), and Jairus Grove. My only regret is that I have not spoken even more with them, and with the much larger number of people I have learned from on a less sustained basis along the way.

                                    



What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the world in a global way?



I have thought a great deal about what sort of answers to this question can be generally valuable. For me, the most important insight is that success in intellectual life and academia is determined by more or less the same combination of factors that determines success more generally. This list is obvious: character, talent, perseverance and hard work, good judgment, good 'people skills,' and luck. Not everyone has a talent to do this kind of work, but the number of people who do have the talent to do this kind of work is much larger than the number of people who are successful in doing it. I think in academia as elsewhere, the people most likely to really succeed are those whose attitude toward the activity is vocational. A vocation is something one is called to do by an inner voice that one cannot resist. People with vocations never really work in one sense, because they are doing something that they would be doing even if they were not paid or required. Of course, in another sense people with vocations never stop working, being so consumed with their path that everything else matters very little. People with jobs and professions largely stop working when they when the lottery, but people with vocations are empowered to work more and better. When your vocation overlaps with your job, you should wake up and say 'wow, I cannot believe I am being paid to do this!' Rather obviously, the great danger in the life paths of people with vocations is imbalance and burn-out. To avoid these perils it is beneficial to sustain strong personal relationships, know when and how to 'take off' effectively, and sustain the ability to see things as an unfolding comedy and to laugh.



Academic life also involves living and working in a profession. Compared to the oppressions that so many thinkers and researchers have historically suffered from, contemporary professional academic life is a utopia. But academic life has several aspects unfortunate aspects, and coping successfully with them is vital. Academic life is full of 'odd balls' and the loose structure of universities and organization, combined with the tenure system, licenses an often florid display of dubious behavior. A fair number of academics have really primitive and incompetent social skills. Others are thin skinned-ego maniacs. Some are pompous hypocrites. Some are ruthlessly self-aggrandizing and underhanded. Some are relentless shirkers and free-riders. Also, academic life is, particularly relative to the costs of obtaining the years of education necessary to obtain it, not very well paid. Corruptions of clique, ideological factionalism, and nepotism occur. If not kept in proper perspective, and approached in appropriate ways, academic department life can become stupidly consuming of time, energy, and most dangerously, intellectual attention. The basic step for healthy departmental life is to approach it as a professional role.



The other big dimension of academic life is teaching. Teaching is one of the two 'deliverables' that academic organizations provide in return for the vast resources they consume. Shirking on teaching is a dereliction of responsibility, but also is the foregoing of a great opportunity. Teaching is actually one of the most assuredly consequential things academics do. The key to great teaching is, I think, very simple: inspire and convey enthusiasm. Once inspired, students learn. Once students take questions as their own, they become avid seekers of answers. Teachers of things political also have a responsibility to remain even-handed in what they teach, to make sure that they do not teach just or mainly their views, to make sure that the best and strongest versions of opposing sides are heard. Teaching seeks to produce informed and critically thinking students, not converts. Beyond the key roles of inspiration and even-handedness, the rest is the standard package of tasks relevant in any professional role: good preparation, good organization, hard work, and clarity of presentation.





Your main book, Bounding Power: Republican Security Theory from the Polis to the Global Village (2007), is a mix of intellectual history, political theory and IR theory, and is targeted largely at realism. How does a reading and interpretation of a large number of old books tell us something new about realism, and the contemporary global?



Bounding Power attempts to dispel some very large claims made by realists about their self-proclaimed 'tradition,' a lineage of thought in which they place many of the leading Western thinkers about political order, such as Thucydides, Machiavelli, Hobbes, Rousseau, and the 'global geopoliticans' from the years around the beginning of the twentieth century. In the book I argue that the actual main axis of western thinking about political order (and its absence) is largely the work of 'republican' thinkers from the small number of 'republics', and that many of the key ideas that realists call realist and liberals call liberal are actually fragments of a larger, more encompassing set of arguments that were primarily in the idioms of republicanism. This entails dispelling the widely held view that the liberal and proto-liberal republican thought and practice are marked by 'idealism'—and therefore both inferior in their grasp of the problem of security-from violence and valuable only when confined to the 'domestic.' I demonstrate that this line of republican security thinkers had a robust set of claims both about material contextual factors, about the 'geopolitics of freedom', and a fuller understanding of security-from-violence. The book shows how perhaps the most important insights of this earlier cluster of arguments has oddly been dropped by both realists (particularly neorealists) and liberal international theorists. And, finally, it is an attempt to provide an understanding that posits the project of exiting anarchy on a global scale as something essentially unprecedented, and as something that the best of our inherited theory leaves us unable to say much about.



The main argument is contained in my formulation of what I think are the actual the two main sets of issues of Western structural-materialist security theory, two problematiques formulated in republican and naturalist-materialist conceptual vocabularies. The first problematique concerns the relationship between material context, the scope of tolerable anarchy, and necessary-for-security government. The second problematic concerns the relative security-viability of two main different forms of government—hierarchical and republican.



This formulation of the first problematic concerning anarchy differs from the main line of contemporary Realist argument in that it poses the question as one about the spatial scope of tolerable anarchy. The primary variable in my reconstruction of the material-contextual component of these arguments is what I term violence interdependence (absent, weak, strong, and intense). The main substantive claim of Western structural-materialist security theory is that situations of anarchy combined with intense violence interdependence are incompatible with security and require substantive government. Situations of strong and weak violence interdependence constitute a tolerable (if at times 'nasty and brutish') second ('state-of-war') anarchy not requiring substantive government. Early formulations of 'state of nature' arguments, explicitly or implicitly hinge upon this material contextual variable, and the overall narrative structure of the development of republican security theory and practice has concerned natural geographic variations and technologically caused changes in the material context, and thus the scope of security tolerable/intolerable anarchy and needed substantive government. This argument was present in early realist versions of anarchy arguments, but has been dropped by neorealists. Conversely, contemporary liberal international theorists analyze interdependence, but have little to say about violence. The result is that the realists talk about violence and security, and the liberals talk about interdependence not relating to violence, producing the great lacuna of contemporary theory: analysis of violence interdependence.



The second main problematique, concerning the relative security viability of hierarchical and republican forms, has also largely been lost sight of, in large measure by the realist insistence that governments are by definition hierarchical, and the liberal avoidance of system structural theory in favor of process, ideational, and economic variables. (For neoliberals, cooperation is seen as (possibly) occurring in anarchy, without altering or replacing anarchy.) The main claim here is that republican and proto-liberal theorists have a more complete grasp of the security political problem than realists because of their realization that both the extremes of hierarchy and anarchy are incompatible with security. In order to register this lost component of structural theory I refer to republican forms at both the unit and the system-level as being characterized by an ordering principle which I refer to as negarchy. Such political arrangements are characterized by the simultaneous negation of both hierarchy and anarchy. The vocabulary of political structures should thus be conceived as a triad-triangle of anarchy, hierarchy, and negarchy, rather than a spectrum stretching from pure anarchy to pure hierarchy. Using this framework, Bounding Power traces various formulations of the key arguments of security republicans from the Greeks through the nuclear era as arguments about the simultaneous avoidance of hierarchy and anarchy on expanding spatial scales driven by variations and changes in the material context. If we recognize the main axis of our thinking in this way, we can stand on a view of our past that is remarkable in its potential relevance to thinking and dealing with the contemporary 'global village' like a human situation.





Nuclear weapons play a key role in the argument of Bounding Power about the present, as well as elsewhere in your work. But are nuclear weapons are still important as hey were during the Cold War to understand global politics?



Since their arrival on the world scene in the middle years of the twentieth century, there has been pretty much universal agreement that nuclear weapons are in some fundamental way 'revolutionary' in their implications for security-from-violence and world politics. The fact that the Cold War is over does not alter, and even stems from, this fact. Despite this wide agreement on the importance of nuclear weapons, theorists, policy makers, and popular arms control/disarmament movements have fundamental disagreements about which political forms are compatible with the avoidance of nuclear war. I have attempted to provide a somewhat new answer to this 'nuclear-political question', and to explain why strong forms of interstate arms control are necessary for security in the nuclear age. I argue that achieving the necessary levels of arms control entails somehow exiting interstate anarchy—not toward a world government as a world state, but toward a world order that is a type of compound republican union (marked by, to put it in terms of above discussion, a nearly completely negarchical structure).



This argument attempts to close what I term the 'arms control gap', the discrepancy between the value arms control is assigned by academic theorists of nuclear weapons and their importance in the actual provision of security in the nuclear era. During the Cold War, thinking among IR theorists about nuclear weapons tended to fall into three broad schools—war strategists, deterrence statists, and arms controllers. Where the first two only seem to differ about the amount of nuclear weapons necessary for states seeking security (the first think many, the second less), the third advocates that states do what they have very rarely done before the nuclear age, reciprocal restraints on arms.



But this Cold War triad of arguments is significantly incomplete as a list of the important schools of thought about the nuclear-political question. There are four additional schools, and a combination of their arguments constitutes, I argue, a superior answer to the nuclear-political question. First are the nuclear one worlders, a view that flourished during the late 1940s and early 1950s, and held that the simple answer to the nuclear political question is to establish a world government, as some sort of state. Second are the populist anti-nuclearists, who indict state apparatuses of acting contrary to the global public's security interests. Third are the deep arms controllers, such as Jonathan Schell, who argue that nuclear weapons need to be abolished. Fourth are the theorists of omniviolence, who theorize situations produced by the leakage of nuclear weapons into the hands of non-state actors who cannot be readily deterred from using nuclear weapons. What all of these schools have in common is that they open up the state and make arguments about how various forms of political freedom—and the institutions that make it possible—are at issue in answering the nuclear-political question.

                                                                                                                

Yet one key feature all seven schools share is that they all make arguments about how particular combinations and configurations of material realities provide the basis for thinking that their answer to the nuclear-political question is correct. Unfortunately, their understandings of how material factors shape, or should shape, actual political arrangements is very ad hoc. Yet the material factors—starting with sheer physical destructiveness—are so pivotal that they merit a more central role in theories of nuclear power. I think we need to have a model that allows us to grasp how variations in material contexts condition the functionality of 'modes of protection', that is, distinct and recurring security practices (and their attendant political structures).



For instance, one mode of protection—what I term the real-state mode of protection—attempts to achieve security through the concentration, mobilization, and employment of violence capability. This is the overall, universal, context-independent strategy of realists. Bringing into view material factors, I argue, shows that this mode of protection is functional not universally but specifically—and only—in material contexts that are marked by violence-poverty and slowness. This mode of protection is dysfunctional in nuclear material contexts marked by violence abundance and high violence velocities. In contrast, a republican federal mode of protection is a bundle of practices that aim for the demobilization and deceleration of violence capacity, and that the practices associated with this mode of protection are security functional in the nuclear material context.



What emerges from such an approach to ideas about the relation between nuclear power and security from violence is that the epistemological foundations for any of the major positions about nuclear weapons are actually much weaker than we should be comfortable with. People often say the two most important questions about the nuclear age are: what is the probability that nuclear weapons will be used? And then, what will happen when they are used? The sobering truth is that we really do not have good grounds for confidently answering either of those two questions. But every choice made about nuclear weapons depends on risk calculations that depend on how we answer these questions.





You have also written extensively on space, a topic that has not recently attracted much attention from many IR scholars. How does your thinking on this relate to your overall thinking about the global and planetary situation?

                                                                                                          

The first human steps into outer space during the middle years of the twentieth century have been among the most spectacular and potentially consequential events in the globalization of machine civilization on Earth. Over the course of what many call 'the space age,' thinking about space activities, space futures, and the consequences of space activities has been dominated by an elaborately developed body of 'space expansionist' thought that makes ambitious and captivating claims about both the feasibility and the desirability of human expansion into outer space. Such views of space permeate popular culture, and at times appear to be quite influential in actual space policy. Space expansionists hold that outer space is a limitless frontier and that humans should make concerted efforts to explore and colonize and extend their military activities into space. They claim the pursuit of their ambitious projects will have many positive, even transformative, effects upon the human situation on Earth, by escaping global closure, protecting the earth's habitability, preserving political plurality, and enhancing species survival. Claims about the Earth, its historical patterns and its contemporary problems, permeate space expansionist thinking.



While the feasibility, both technological and economic, of space expansionist projects has been extensively assessed, arguments for their desirability have not been accorded anything approaching a systematic assessment. In part, such arguments about the desirability of space expansion are difficult to assess because they incorporate claims that are very diverse in character, including claims about the Earth (past, present, and future), about the ways in which material contexts made up of space 'geography' and technologies produce or heavily favor particular political outcomes, and about basic worldview assumptions regarding nature, science, technology, and life.



By breaking these space expansionist arguments down into their parts, and systematically assessing their plausibility, a very different picture of the space prospect emerges. I think there are strong reasons to think that the consequences of the human pursuit of space expansion have been, and could be, very undesirable, even catastrophic. The actual militarization of that core space technology ('the rocket') and the construction of a planetary-scope 'delivery' and support system for nuclear war-fighting has been the most important consequence of actual space activities, but these developments have been curiously been left out of accounts of the space age and assessments of its impacts. Similarly, much of actually existing 'nuclear arms control' has centered on restraining and dismantling space weapons, not nuclear weapons. Thus the most consequential space activity—the acceleration of nuclear delivery capabilities—has been curiously rendered almost invisible in accounts of space and assessments of its impacts. This is an 'unknown known' of the 'space age'. Looking ahead, the creation of large orbital infrastructures will either presuppose or produce world government, potentially of a very hierarchical sort.  There are also good reasons to think that space colonies are more likely to be micro-totalitarian than free. And extensive human movement off the planet could in a variety of ways increase the vulnerability of life on Earth, and even jeopardize the survival of the human species.



Finally, I think much of space expansionist (and popular) thinking about space and the consequences of humans space activities has been marked by basic errors in practical geography. Most notably, there is the widespread failure to realize that the expansion of human activities into Earth's orbital space has enhanced global closure, because the effective distances in Earth's space make it very small. And because of the formidable natural barriers to human space activity, space is a planetary 'lid, not a 'frontier'. So one can say that the most important practical discovery of the 'space age' has been an improved understanding of the Earth. These lines of thinking, I find, would suggest the outlines of a more modest and Earth-centered space program, appropriate for the current Earth age. Overall, the fact that we can't readily expand into space is part of why we are in a new 'earth age' rather than a 'space age'.





You've argued against making the environment into a national security issue twenty years ago. Do the same now, considering that making the environment a bigger priority by making it into a national security issue might be the only way to prevent total environmental destruction?



When I started writing about the relationships between environment and security twenty years ago, not a great deal of work had been done on this topic. But several leading environmental thinkers were making the case that framing environmental issues as security issues, or what came to be called 'securitizing the environment', was not only a good strategy to get action on environmental problems, but also was useful analytically to think about these two domains. Unlike the subsequent criticisms of 'environmental security' made by Realists and scholars of conventional 'security studies', my criticism starts with the environmentalist premise that environmental deterioration is a paramount problem for contemporary humanity as a whole.



Those who want to 'securitize the environment' are attempting to do what William James a century ago proposed as a general strategy for social problem solving. Can we find, in James' language, 'a moral equivalent of war?' (Note the unfortunately acronym: MEOW). War and the threat of war, James observed, often lead to rapid and extensive mobilizations of effort. Can we somehow transfer these vast social energies to deal with other sets of problems? This is an enduring hope, particularly in the United States, where we have a 'war on drugs', a 'war on cancer', and a 'war on poverty'. But doing this for the environment, by 'securitizing the environment,' is unlikely to be very successful. And I fear that bringing 'security' orientations, institutions, and mindsets into environmental problem-solving will also bring in statist, nationalist, and militarist approaches. This will make environmental problem-solving more difficult, not easier, and have many baneful side-effects.



Another key point I think is important, is that the environment—and the various values and ends associated with habitat and the protection of habitat—are actually much more powerful and encompassing than those of security and violence. Instead of 'securitizing the environment' it is more promising is to 'environmentalize security'. Not many people think about the linkages between the environment and security-from-violence in this way, but I think there is a major case of it 'hiding in plain sight' in the trajectory of how the state-system and nuclear weapons have interacted.



When nuclear weapons were invented and first used in the 1940s, scientists were ignorant about many aspects of their effects. As scientists learned about these effects, and as this knowledge became public, many people started thinking and acting in different ways about nuclear choices. The fact that a ground burst of a nuclear weapon would produce substantial radioactive 'fall-out' was not appreciated until the first hydrogen bomb tests in the early 1950s. It was only then that scientists started to study what happened to radioactive materials dispersed widely in the environment. Evidence began to accumulate that some radioactive isotopes would be 'bio-focused', or concentrated by biological process. Public interest scientists began effectively publicizing this information, and mothers were alerted to the fact that their children's teeth were become radioactive. This new scientific knowledge about the environmental effects of nuclear explosions, and the public mobilizations it produced, played a key role in the first substantial nuclear arms control treaty, the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963, which banned nuclear weapons testing in the atmosphere, in the ocean, and in space. Thus, the old ways of providing security were circumscribed by new knowledge and new stakeholders of environmental health effects. The environment was not securitized, security was partially environmentalized.



Thus, while some accounts by arms control theorists emphasize the importance of 'social learning' in altering US-Soviet relations, an important part of this learning was not about the nature of social and political interactions, but about the environmental consequences of nuclear weapons. The learning that was most important in motivating so many actors (both within states and in mass publics) to seek changes in politics was 'natural learning,' or more specifically learning about the interaction of natural and technological systems.



An even more consequential case of the environmentalization of security occurred in the 1970's and 1980's. A key text here is Jonathan Schell's book, The Fate of the Earth. Schell's book, combining very high-quality journalism with first rate political theoretical reflections, lays out in measured terms the new discoveries of ecologists and atmospheric scientists about the broader planetary consequences of an extensive nuclear war. Not only would hundreds of millions of people be immediately killed and much of the planet's built infrastructure destroyed, but the planet earth's natural systems would be so altered that the extinction of complex life forms, among them homo sapiens, might result. The detonation of numerous nuclear weapons and the resultant burning of cities would probably dramatically alter the earth's atmosphere, depleting the ozone layer that protects life from lethal solar radiations, and filling the atmosphere with sufficient dust to cause a 'nuclear winter.' At stake in nuclear war, scientists had learned, was not just the fate of nations, but of the earth as a life support system. Conventional accounts of the nuclear age and of the end of the Cold War are loath to admit it, but it I believe it is clear that spreading awareness of these new natural-technological possibilities played a significant role in ending the Cold War and the central role that nuclear arms control occupies in the settlement of the Cold War. Again, traditional ways of achieving security-from-violence were altered by new knowledges about their environmental consequences—security practices and arrangements were partly environmentalized.



Even more radically, I think we can also turn this into a positive project. As I wrote two decades ago, environmental restoration would probably generate political externalities that would dampen tendencies towards violence. In other words, if we address the problem of the environment, then we will be drawn to do various things that will make various types of violent conflict less likely.





Your work is permeated by references to 'material factors'. This makes it different from branches of contemporary IR—like constructivism or postmodernism—which seem to be underpinned by a profound commitment to focus solely one side of the Cartesian divide. What is your take on the pervasiveness and implications of this 'social bias'?



Postmodernism and constructivism are really the most extreme manifestations of a broad trend over the last two centuries toward what I refer to as 'social-social science' and the decline—but hardly the end—of 'natural-social science'. Much of western thought prior to this turn was 'naturalist' and thus tended to downplay both human agency and ideas. At the beginning of the nineteenth century—partly because of the influence of German idealism, partly because of the great liberationist projects that promised to give better consequence to the activities and aspirations of the larger body of human populations (previously sunk in various forms of seemingly natural bondages), and partly because of the great expansion of human choice brought about by the science-based technologies of the Industrial Revolution—there was a widespread tendency to move towards 'social-social science,' the project of attempting to explain the human world solely by reference to the human world, to explain social outcomes with reference to social causes. While this was the dominant tendency, and a vastly productive one in many ways, it existed alongside and in interaction with what is really a modernized version of the earlier 'natural-social science.' Much of my work has sought to 'bring back in' and extend these 'natural-social' lines of argument—found in figures such as Dewey and H.G. Wells—into our thinking about the planetary situation.



In many parts of both European and American IR and related areas, Postmodern and constructivist theories have significantly contributed to IR theorists by enhancing our appreciation of ideas, language, and identities in politics. As a response to the limits and blindnesses of certain types of rationalist, structuralist, and functional theories, this renewed interest in the ideational is an important advance. Unfortunately, both postmodernism and constructivism have been marked by a strong tendency to go too far in their emphasis of the ideational. Postmodernism and constructivism have also helped make theorists much more conscious of the implicit—and often severely limiting—ontological assumptions that underlay, inform, and bound their investigations. This is also a major contribution to the study of world politics in all its aspects.



Unfortunately, this turn to ontology has also had intellectually limiting effects by going too far, in the search for a pure or nearly pure social ontology. With the growth in these two approaches, there has indeed been a decided decline in theorizing about the material. But elsewhere in the diverse world of theorizing about IR and the global, theorizing about the material never came anything close to disappearing or being eclipsed. For anyone thinking about the relationships between politics and nuclear weapons, space, and the environment, theorizing about the material has remained at the center, and it would be difficult to even conceive of how theorizing about the material could largely disappear. The recent 're-discovery of the material' associated with various self-styled 'new materialists' is a welcome, if belated, re-discovery for postmodernists and constructivists. For most of the rest of us, the material had never been largely dropped out.



A very visible example of the ways in which the decline in appropriate attention to the material, an excessive turn to the ideational, and the quest for a nearly pure social ontology, can lead theorizing astray is the core argument in Alexander Wendt's main book, Social Theory of International Politics, one of the widely recognized landmarks of constructivist IR theory. The first part of the book advances a very carefully wrought and sophisticated argument for a nearly pure ideational social ontology. The material is explicitly displaced into a residue or rump of unimportance. But then, to the reader's surprise, the material, in the form of 'common fate' produced by nuclear weapons, and climate change, reappears and is deployed to play a really crucial role in understanding contemporary change in world politics. 



My solution is to employ a mixed ontology. By this I mean that I think several ontologically incommensurate and very different realities are inescapable parts the human world. These 'unlikes' are inescapable parts of any argument, and must somehow be combined. There are a vast number of ways in which they can be combined, and on close examination, virtually all arguments in the social sciences are actually employing some version of a mixed ontology, however implicitly and under-acknowledged.



But not all combinations are equally useful in addressing all questions. In my version of mixed ontology—which I call 'practical naturalism'—human social agency is understood to be occurring 'between two natures': on the one hand the largely fixed nature of humans, and on the other the changing nature composed of the material world, a shifting amalgam of actual non-human material nature of geography and ecology, along with human artifacts and infrastructures. Within this frame, I posit as rooted in human biological nature, a set of 'natural needs,' most notably for security-from-violence and habitat services. Then I pose questions of functionality, by which I mean: which combinations of material practices, political structures, ideas and identities are needed to achieve these ends in different material contexts? Answering this question requires the formulation of various 'historical materialist' propositions, which in turn entails the systematic formulation of typologies and variation in both the practices, structures and ideas, and in material contexts. These arguments are not centered on explaining what has or what will happen. Instead they are practical in the sense that they are attempting to answer the question of 'what is to be done' given the fixed ends and given changing material contexts. I think this is what advocates of arms control and environmental sustainability are actually doing when they claim that one set of material practices and their attendant political structures, identities and ideas must be replaced with another if basic human needs are to going to continue to be meet in the contemporary planetary material situation created by the globalization of machine civilization on earth.

                                  

Since this set of arguments is framed within a mixed ontology, ideas and identities are a vital part of the research agenda. Much of the energy of postmodern and many varieties of critical theory have focused on 'deconstructing' various identities and ideas. This critical activity has produced and continues to produce many insights of theorizing about politics. But I think there is an un-tapped potential for theorists who are interested in ideas and identities, and who want their work to make a positive contribution to practical problem-solving in the contemporary planetary human situation in what might be termed a 'constructive constructivism'. This concerns a large practical theory agenda—and an urgent one at that, given the rapid increase in planetary problems—revolving around the task of figuring out which ideas and identities are appropriate for the planetary world, and in figuring out how they can be rapidly disseminated. Furthermore, thinking about how to achieve consciousness change of this sort is not something ancillary to the greenpeace project but vital to it. My thinking on how this should and might be done centers the construction of a new social narrative, centered not on humanity but on the earth.





Is it easy to plug your mixed ontology and interests beyond the narrow confines of IR or even the walls of the ivory tower into processes of collective knowledge proliferation in IR—a discipline increasingly characterized by compartimentalization and specialization?



The great plurality of approaches in IR today is indispensible and a welcome change. The professionalization of IR and the organization of intellectual life has some corruptions and pitfalls that are best avoided. The explosion of 'isms' and of different perspectives has been valuable and necessary in many ways, but it has also helped to foster and empower sectarian tendencies that confound the advance of knowledge. Some of the adherents of some sects and isms boast openly of establishing 'citation cartels' to favor themselves and their friends. Some theorists also have an unfortunate tendency to assume that because they have adopted a label that what they actually do is the actually the realization of the label. Thus we have 'realists' with limited grasp on realities, 'critical theorists' who repeat rather than criticize the views of other 'critical theorists,' and anti-neoliberals who are ruthless Ayn Rand-like self aggrandizers. The only way to fully address these tendencies is to talk to people you disagree with, and find and communicate with people in other disciplines.



Another consequence of this sectarianism is visible in the erosion of scholarly standards of citation. The system of academic incentives is configured to reward publication, and the publication of ideas that are new. This has a curiously perverse impact on the achievement of cumulativity. One seemingly easy and attractive path to saying something new is to say something old in new language, to say something said in another sect or field in the language of your sect or field, or easiest of all, simply ignore what other people have said if it is too much like what you are trying to say. George Santyana is wide quoted in saying that 'those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.' For academics it can unfortunately be said, 'those who can successfully forget what past academics said are free to say it again, and thus advance toward tenure.' When rampant sectarianism and decline in standards of citation is combined with a broader cultural tendency to valorize self-expression and authenticity, academic work can become an exercise in abstract self expressionism.



Confining one's intellectual life within one 'ism' or sect is sure to be self-limiting. Many of the most important and interesting questions arise between and across the sects and schools. Also, there are great opportunities in learning from people who do not fully share your assumptions and approaches. Seriously engaging the work and ideas of scholars in other sects can be very very valuable. Scholars in different sects and schools are also often really taking positions that are not so different as their labels would suggest. Perhaps because my research agenda fits uncomfortably within any of the established schools and isms, I have found particularly great value in seeking out and talking on a sustained basis with people with very different approaches.





My final question is about normativity and the way that normativity is perceived: In Europe and the United States, liberal Internationalism is increasingly considered as hollowed out, as a discursive cover for a tendency to attempt to control and regulate the world—or as an unguided idealistic missile. Doesn't adapting to a post-hegemonic world require dropping such ambitions?



American foreign policy has never been entirely liberal internationalist. Many other ideas and ideologies and approaches have often played important roles in shaping US foreign policy. But the United States, for a variety of reasons, has pursued liberal internationalist foreign policy agendas more extensively, and successfully, than any other major state in the modern state system, and the world, I think, has been made better off in very important ways by these efforts.



The net impact of the United States and of American grand strategy and particularly those parts of American brand strategy that have been more liberal internationalist in their character, has been enormously positive for the world. It has produced not a utopia by any means, but has brought about an era with more peace and security, prosperity, and freedom for more people than ever before in history.



Both American foreign policy and liberal internationalism have been subject to strong attacks from a variety of perspectives. Recently some have characterized liberal internationalism as a type of American imperialism, or as a cloak for US imperialism. Virtually every aspect of American foreign policy has been contested within the United States. Liberal internationalists have been strong enemies of imperialism and military adventurism, whether American or from other states. This started with the Whig's opposition to the War with Mexico and the Progressive's opposition to the Spanish-American War, and continued with liberal opposition to the War in Vietnam.



The claim that liberal internationalism leads to or supports American imperialism has also been recently voiced by many American realists, perhaps most notably John Mearsheimer (Theory Talk #49). He and others argue that liberal internationalism played a significant role in bringing about the War on Iraq waged by the W. Bush administration. This was indeed one of the great debacles of US foreign policy. But the War in Iraq was actually a war waged by American realists for reasons grounded in realist foreign policy thinking. It is true, as Mearsheimer emphasizes, that many academic realists criticized the Bush administration's plans and efforts in the invasion in Iraq. Some self-described American liberal internationalists in the policy world supported the war, but almost all academic American liberal internationalists were strongly opposed, and much of the public opposition to the war was on grounds related to liberal internationalist ideas.



It is patently inaccurate to say that main actors in the US government that instigated the War on Iraq were liberal internationalists. The main initiators of the war were Richard Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. Whatever can be said about those two individuals, they are not liberal internationalists. They initiated the war because they thought that the Saddam Hussein regime was a threat to American interests—basically related to oil. The Saddam regime was seen as a threat to American-centered regional hegemony in the Middle East, an order whose its paramount purpose has been the protection of oil, and the protection of the regional American allies that posses oil. Saddam Hussein was furthermore a demonstrated regional revisionist likely to seek nuclear weapons, which would greatly compromise American military abilities in the region. Everything else the Bush Administration's public propaganda machine said to justify the war was essentially window dressing for this agenda. Far from being motivated by a liberal internationalist agenda the key figures in the Bush Administration viewed the collateral damage to international institutions produced by the war as a further benefit, not a cost, of the war. It is particularly ironic that John Mearsheimer would be a critic of this war, which seems in many ways a 'text book' application of a central claim of his 'offensive realism,' that powerful states can be expected, in the pursuit of their security and interests, to seek to become and remain regional hegemons.



Of course, liberal internationalism, quite aside from dealing with these gross mischaracterizations propagated by realists, must also look to the future. The liberal internationalism that is needed for today and tomorrow is going to be in some ways different from the liberal internationalism of the twentieth century. This is a large topic that many people, but not enough, are thinking about. In a recent working paper for the Council on Foreign Relations, John Ikenberry and I have laid out some ways in which we think American liberal internationalism should proceed. The starting point is the recognition that the United States is not as 'exceptional' in its precocious liberal-democratic character, not as 'indispensible' for the protection of the balance of power or the advance of freedom, or as easily 'hegemonic' as it has been historically. But the world is now also much more democratic than ever before, with democracies old and new, north and south, former colonizers and former colonies, and in every civilizational flavor. The democracies also face an array of difficult domestic problems, are thickly enmeshed with one another in many ways, and have a vital role to play in solving global problems. We suggest that the next liberal internationalism in American foreign policy should focus on American learning from the successes of other democracies in solving problems, focus on 'leading by example of successful problem-solving' and less with 'carrots and sticks,' make sustained efforts to moderate the inequalities and externalities produced by de-regulated capitalism, devote more attention to building community among the democracies, and make sustained efforts to 'recast global bargains' and the distribution of authority in global institutions to better incorporate the interests of 'rising powers.'





Daniel Deudney is Associate Professor and Director of Undergraduate Studies in Political Science at Johns Hopkins University. He has published widely in political theory and international relations, on substantive issues such as nuclear weapons, the environment as a security issue, liberal and realist international relations theory, and geopolitics.





Related links



Deudney's Faculty Profile at Johns Hopkins
Read Deudney & Ikenberry's Democratic Internationalism: An American Grand Strategy for a Post-exceptionalist Era (Council on Foreign Relations Working Paper, 2012) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney et al's Global Shift: How the West Should Respond to the Rise of China (2011 Transatlantic Academy report) here (pdf) 
Read the introduction of Deudney's Bounding Power (2007) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's Bringing Nature Back In: Geopolitical Theory from the Greeks to the Global Era (1999 book chapter) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney & Ikenberry's Who Won the Cold War? (Foreign Policy, 1992) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's The Case Against Linking Environmental Degradation and National Security (Millennium, 1990) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's Rivers of Energy: The Hydropower Potential (WorldWatch Institute Paper, 1981) here (pdf) 









Print version of this Talk (pdf)

Issue 70.2 of the Review for Religious, 2011. ; Virtue Movements Ignatian Insight Consecrated Life quarterly 70.2 2011 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2011 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libra~ clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. A copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on th first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertisinl institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permissio will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournal of Catholic ~piri~uali~ Celebrating 70 Years Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board Michael G. Harter SJ Rosemary Jermann Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ ¯ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD quarterly 70.2 2011 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 132 virtue movements Salesian Simplicity: How a "Little Virtue" Can Go a Long Way Thomas F. Dailey OSFS examines simplicity in the teaching of St. Francis de Sales and the religious life of the Visitation of Holy Mary, founded in 1610. He proposes that their "hidden life" of "little virtues" provides meaning even for those beyond the monastery's walls. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion Telling Ou.r Story: Movements of Transformation Beatrice M. Eichten OSF offers ideas for sharing the story of transformational moments in our lives to better under-stand what we have experienced and to allow God to be more alive and active in our lives. 146 ignatian insight 0 Approaching the Principle and Foundation from St. Ignatius's MysticalWorldview Edward McCormack builds on the insights of Gilles Cusson and Joseph Tetlow, and sets the Foundation within the context of Ignatius's mystical experience at Manresa and the resulting worldview in order to better understand the role the Foundation plays in the Exercises, particularly with regard to the preparatory period. Review for Religious 165 Discerning the Spirit: A Personal Journey Richard J. Hauser SJ testifies to the importance of appropriating the discipline of the discernment of spirits in our daily Christian living. 179 194 201 consecrated life @ Apostolic Visitations: Clare of Assisi's Insights from the Thirteenth Century John V. Kruse examines how Clare of Assisi responded nearly 800 years ago to papal visits that sought to shape the form of religious life that Clare desired to live. Her example has tnuch to say to women religious experiencing the Vatican visitation and investigation of women religious in the United States. Consecrated Life in the Ecclesiology of Vatican II Amy Hereford CSJ discusses the place of consecrated life in light of the ecclesiology of the Second Vatican Council, the new Code of Canon Law, and recent developments. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion A Grain of Hope: Canada's First Carmelite Nun Mary Patricia of the Holy Spirit OCD and Mary Ruth of the Sacred Heart OCD recount how deep desires and a providential encounter led to the founding of the first monastery of Discalced Carmelites in Canada. departments 209 Scripture Scope: Ezekiel: The Strangest of All the Old Testament Prophets 215 Book Reviews 115 70.2 2011 prisms 116 ~hen I was a young boy, my mother thought it would be good for me to know how to swim, so she took me to the local pool and arranged for me to take lessons. I found the whole experience a bit intimidating. But once I learned to overcome the fear of having my head underwater, I was quickly off to explore the deep end of the pool. While I am still a bit hesitant to jump into cold water, I have no fear of swimming., or taking on new challenges. That memory returned to me as I began editing Review for Religious. And though I am older now and have much more experience, old fears occasionally lurk in the shadows. When our publication was invited to attend a recent seminar on the theology of consecrated life sponsored by the USG/UISG, the unions of superiors general of men's and women's religious congregations, I began to wonder if I was getting in over my head. My long-time mentor, Dave Fleming, assured me that I would represent the Journal well and that it would be a most valuable learning experience. Twenty superiors general and thirty theolo-gians assembled in Rome between February 7 Review for Religious and 11 to "take careful stock of the situation of the the-ology of apostolic consecrated life at this present time; to identify the main questions and challenges being posed to this theology by the situation of the world and the church today, in view of the future journey of conse-crated persons and the Institutes to which they belong; and to catalyze renewed study and research in this field so as to enhance the vitality of the witness to be given by consecrated persons." The participants, equally divided between women and men, represented all the populated parts of our planet from Oceana through India, Africa, Europe, to North, Central, and South America. We looked at the context of religious life in the cosmos from the "big bang" to the eschaton. We talked about the tensions of living our traditional vows in a post-mod-ern- even post-Christian--globalized world. We strug-gled to be mindful of ecological issues and the need for collaboration among the old orders and with the laity and members of emerging new religious communities. The presentations were rich in diversity and were fur-ther refined and nuanced in the ensuing conversations in small work groups or over dinner. None of the participants had clear answers or simple solutions. That was not the goal of the seminar. We did, however, pledge ourselves to keep pursuing questions, exploring mystery, and sharing our discoveries. That is what Review for Religious has been doing for 70 years in simple and profound ways. We hope to be a vital medium to enable that conversation to continue. Immersion in a pool of such rich thinking and expe-rience was invigorating. It is reassuring to be reminded, once again, that we have good company in the deep waters of religious life. Michael .G. Harter SJ 117 70.2 2011 THOMAS E DAILEY Salesian Simplicity: How a "Little Virtue" Can Go a Long Way virtue movements Four hundred years ago, simplicity was retrieved by two saints and given a new form.~ In June 1610, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal established the religious order of the Visitation of Holy Mary in Annecy, France. Begun with three nuns who would spend their day in prayer and occasionally visit the poor and sick in town--a radically new apostolic twist at the time--the order now has numerous monasteries throughout the world and includes those sisters who took up residence in the "Mater Ecclesiae" monastery in the Vatican in 2009. The superior there succinctly describes the particular charism of this religious order in Thomas E Dailey OSFS holds the Fr. Louis Brisson Chair in Salesian Spirituality and is Professor of Theology at DeSales University, where he is also the founding director of the Salesian Center for Faith & Culture. He may be addressed at DeSales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Valley, Pennsylvania 18034. Review for Religious terms that match the focus of the conference at which this paper was originally presented: "The spirit of the Visitation is one of profound humility toward God, and great meekness toward the neighbor--a spirit that does not put the accent on exterior austerity. The sisters must supply it with interior renunciation and with a great simplicity and joy in the common life.''2 That spirit of simplicity aligns directly with Francis de Sales's vision of the virtuous Christian life and takes a distinct form within the contemplative life of the Visitation order. And, as we will suggest, this four-hundred- year-old tradition remains especially relevant for the pursuit of holiness in the hectic world of the twenty-first century. Simplicity as a Virtue in Salesian Spirituality For St. Francis de Sales, simplicity paves the way to holiness. In his classic book on that subject--an Introduction to the Devout Li~--this Doctor of the Church posited the then revolutionary idea that holiness is pos-sible for everyone, not just the professionally religious monks and nuns, and that this holiness is realized in and through one's vocation or state in life. In his view, what makes the possible actual is the life of virtue. Seeking to forge a middle ground for religious devo-tion between the supereminent tendencies of spiritual mysticism and the austere practices of ascetical, discipline, he champions the exercise of "little virtues"--those vir-tues that are able to be practiced in an ordinary way amid everyday relationships. He explains that "We do not very often come across opportunities for exercising" magnificent feats of virtue (like courageously saving someone from a burning building), but little ones-- like gentleness, modesty, and humility--are continually 119 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity What unites the various aspects and exercises of simplicity is the notion that this virtue entails being "transparent," called for as "graces which ought to color everything we do." Thus, he encourages the practice of "the best virtues, not those which are most highly esteemed; the most excellent, not the most visible; the truest, not the most conspicuous.''3 Concerning simplicity, which he names most often in the various lists of the "little virtues" that appear throughout his writings, de Sales suggests any number of ways in which this can be carried out in one's daily comportment. For example, in terms of fashion, simplicity shows itself in the propriety of one's clothing. Adding wit to his wisdom, he writes, "Old people are always ridiculous when . they try to make themselves pretty. Such folly can be put up with only in youth.''4 Or, in terms of language, simplicity calls forth words that are both frank and honest, while it challenges us to hold our tongue when called upon to speak about ourselves; as the saint explains, Without doubt, whoever speaks little of himself does so extremely well; for, whether it be that we speak in accusing ourselves or in excusing ourselves, in praising ourselves or in despising ourselves, it will always happen that our speech serves to entice us to vanity. If, therefore, some great charity draws us to speak of ourselves and our relatives, we must hold our tongue about it.5 Even more so, simplicity in speech is opposed to any sort of equivocation; in Francis's view nothing so out- Review for Religious rages truth as duplicity, "For those who attempt to shield truth by artifice actually kill and suffocate it.''6 Finally, in terms of relationships, where, according to Wendy Wright, Francis gives to simplicity its partic-ular nuance, to be simple means to act without cunning or guile.7 It enables us to avoid prosaic illusions, those illusions of grandeur which in reality are nothing more than mental temptations: There are souls that make great plans to do excel-lent services for Our Savior, by eminent actions and extraordinary sufferings--but actions and sufferings which there is no opportunity to carry out and per-haps never will be. Based on this, these souls think they have done some great thing in love; in this they are very often deceived, for while they embrace in desire what seems to them to be great future crosses, they anxiously avoid the burden of lesser ones that are present. Is it not an extreme temptation to be so val-iant in imagination, and so cowardly in execution?''8 Instead of being so deceived, devout persons seek simply to serve God, even if they do not experience contentment in doing so: It is necessary to consider that there is no vocation that does not have its trouble, its bitterness and its distaste; and, what is more, if this is so among those not fully resigned to the will of God, each would wish volun-tarily to change his condition to some other. From where comes this general inquietude of spirit if not from a certain displeasure that we have about what is contrary, and a malignity of spirit that makes us think that another is better than we are? But it is all the same: whoever is not fully resigned, who turns this way and that, he will never have rest . A person who no lon-ger has the restlessness of his own will is content with everything: provided that God be served, it does not matter in what manner God employs him: provided that he does his divine will, it is all the same to him.9 121 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity To use a modern term, what unites these various aspects and exercises of simplicity is the notion that this virtue entails being "transparent." As Wendy Wright describes it, in living a simple life [a]ll the ornament and artifice on the outside is peeled away; all the complicated criss-crosses of self-reflec-tion and multiple considerations on the inside are also gently relinquished and given second place . And that transparency then is a window through which God and the deepest center of the person can come together. Nothing remains between God and person.'° But the transparency of a virtuous life that is unadorned and unpretentious does not render simplic-ity a simple thing! On the contrary, this "little" virtue, when lived to its fullest, encompasses the whole of life in its adherence to the will of God in all things. In other words, it entails a perfect correspondence between who we are and how we act. That is the way of life sought by the Visitation sisters, for whom simplicity is consti-tutive of their particular charism in the church and for the world.~l 122 Simplicity as Sanctity in the Visitation Order For the Visitation sisters, the Salesian understanding of simplicity as a virtue extends beyond the practices of everyday life to encompass the totality of their exis-tence. Simplicity, in this sense, is an attitude of being more than an attribute of action. Cultivating this atti-tude is the direction that Francis de Sales sets for the spiritual life of Jarie de Chantal and for the religious order she would lead. From his first encounter with her in Dijon,12 Francis emphasized the need for Jane to develop a more simple life. As the amusing story is told, he took the opportunity Review for Religious at one of their first encounters to indicate blithely that her manner of dress should reflect her state in life as a widow: One day that Madame de Chantal had come to dine, she appeared a bit more dressed up and decked out than she ordinarily did. "Madame," said the bishop, "do you have plans to remarry? . Oh, no, Monsignor," she replied quickly. "Well then," replied the saint, "it should be necessary to take down the flag.''13 But more important would be Jane's interior focus; over the course of several years, his spiritual direction led her to simplify her entire life. That process of simplifi-cation- what Wendy Wright describes as St. Jane's own "call within a call"14--would also come to characterize the entire religious order that she established with him. Rooted in the twin Salesian virtues of humility and gentleness, the foundation of the Visitation order had only a simple aim, which Francis de Sales explains in a letter to the cardinal archbishop of Lyon, who objected to the sisters' practice of leaving the monastery to visit the sick. Francis writes that the purpose of this new group of nuns is to give to God daughters of prayer and souls so interior that they be found worthy of serving his infinite Majesty and of adoring him in spirit and in truth. Leaving the grand orders already established in the church to honor Our Lord by excellent exercises and brilliant virtues, I wish that my daughters would have no other intention than to glorify him by their abasement; that this little Institute of the Visitation be like a poor dove among innocent doves, whose care and concern is to meditate upon the law of the Lord without making themselves seen or understood by the world; that they dwell hidden in the cleft of the rock and in the secret of the recesses in order there to give to their Beloved, by their living and dying, '123 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity some proofs of the grief and the love of their hearts, expressed by their lowly and humble groaning.~s That "hiddenness" of their life discloses their sin-gularity of purpose. It also gives rise to a distinguishing feature of this new order, namely, the practice of admit-ting as sisters women who, through age or infirmity or widowhood, were too frail to undertake the penitential austerities of other contemplative orders. Instead, the Visitation sisters would practice an interior discipline, one cultivated through the progressive development of personal simplicity amid a joyful common life.16 The way by which the sisters would grow in simplic-ity is mapped out for them most clearly in the Spiritual Conferences--a compilation of informal question-and-answer sessions conducted in the courtyard or parlor of the monastery, in which the bishop clarified the distinctive way of life for the members of his new institute. Notwithstanding the limitations of the liter-arT form or the reliability of the published versions,17 these conferences do reveal the mindset of St. Francis de Sales, for whom simplicity is nothing less than the pursuit of perfection. That pursuit begins with the realization of what exactly this virtue is. The holy bishop tells the sisters, "Simplicity is nothing other than an act of pure and sim-ple charity that has only one goal, which is to acquire the love of God. Our spirit is simple when we have no other aim in all that we do or want."18 Then he indicates to them, by way of the biblical story of Martha and MarT, that simplicity and charity are inseparably linked, such Simplicity runs counter to any interior agitation. Review for Religious that the "act of simple charity allows us to look at and have no other goal in sight in all our actions.''~9 And this, he claims, is a distinctively Christian virtue. He then explains that the sisters' singularity of focus through simplicity2° will facilitate their pursuit of holiness by fleeing them from the torment of spiritual restlessness and inquietude. Born from the humility that recognizes the inevitable imperfection inherent to human nature, simplicity runs counter to any interior agitation, as the saint explains elsewhere: You know that God wishes, in general, that one serve him, by loving him above all things and our neighbor as ourselves . That said, it is necessary to do so in good faith, without finesse or subtlety, which would be in the manner of this world, where perfection does notreside, in a human way and according to this time, while waiting to do so in the divine and angelic world and according to eternity. Neither pressure nor agitation of purpose serve any good; desire is good, but let it be without agitation. It is this pressure from which I [wish to] shield you, as the mother imperfection of all imperfections.21 In more positive terms, simplicity is the corollary of that liberty of spirit that comes from love. Speaking again to the sisters, he claims that Simplicity banishes from the human spirit both the need and the anxiety that many develop, so they say, as they search for the ability to love God by the sheer number of exercises and other means. It seems to them that if they do everything that the Saints have done, they will most certainly be satisfied. What poor people! They are to be pitied! They torment themselves to find the art of loving God. They don't know that there is none except to love Him. They think that there is a certain ingenuity to acquire this love which is truly found only in simplicity.22 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity 1261 Ultimately, the sisters' simple love for God can and should integrate all the aspects of their life. In other conferences, their founder explains how related vir-tues can help them to practice this simplicity. Through humility they learn to embrace the mortifications and abjections of everyday life, for, in his words, "our misery is the throne of God's mercy.''23 Through wonder about their imperfections in contrast to the divine goodness exercised in their regard, they are invited to place their confidence entirely in God.24 Through the joy this con-templation brings, they are called to exercise holy indif-ference in all matters; on this point the saint concludes his final conference with this farewell: "I say, therefore, that it is necessary to ask for nothing and refuse noth-ing, but to be left in the arms of divine Providence, without bemusing ourselves about any desire, except to will what God wills of us . M1 our perfection consists in the practice of this point.''2s To summarize the teaching of the Spiritual Conferences, consider this image that Francis de Sales gives to the sisters: A child while she is young is in a state of such sim-plicity that she has no knowledge of anyone except her mother. She has only one love, which is for her mother, and in this love there is only one goal, which is her bosom. She wants nothing else. The Christian who enjoys perfect simplicity has only one love, only one goal, which is to rest on our heavenly Father's bosom and, once there, to be a loving child, rest-ing there and leaving every care of self to her good Father, without ever troubling [herself] about any-thing, except to dwell in this holy confidence.26 Imagined thus, the cultivation of perfect simplicity remains the particular charism of the Visitation sisters Review for Religious and distinguishes their monastic life from that of people living in the world. While the former "must place all their cares in the hands of God . . . leaving themselves totally in the arms of divine Providence," the latter must exercise another virtue. As the bishop notes, they must practice prudence in order to increase their means. They have a great concern about supporting their families; otherwise they would not fulfill their responsibilities. Even though they ought to depend more on Divine Providence than on their own strength, so they must not neglect thinking about their affairs. 27 Thus, the question remains: how do we retrieve sim-plicity from the four-hundred-year-old tradition of the Visitation in order to foster a life of virtue among those living in today's world? Retrieving Salesian Simplicity for Today's World In our contemporary culture, marked as it is by the notion that spirituality is separate from, or an addition to, the myriad cares and concerns of everyday life, the Salesian tradition of the devout life as a universal call to holiness, and the practice of virtue that attends it, holds great promise even for those who do not have the luxury of freedom from worldly pursuits. From this tradition, we can retrieve the simple life today through that humil-ity and wonder and joy by which we learn to "be real." To be real is, first of all, to accept the fact of our human condition. It is to "be who we are" in the hum-ble realization that we are not perfect. It recognizes that our progress in virtue is neither rapid nor permanent. To be who we are is simply to acknowledge our sinful nature. St. Francis de Sales gently notes, we are sometimes so busy being good angels that we neglect to be good men and women. Our imper- [127 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity 128 fections are going to accompany us to the grave. We can't go anywhere without having our feet on the ground, yet we don't just lie there, sprawled [in the dust]. On the other hand, we mustn't think we can fly, for we are like little chicks who don't have wings yet. We die little by little; so our imperfections must die with us, a little each day.28 In the second place, to be real is to accept the truth of our personal character. It is to "be what we are" in grateful wonder at having been created at all. It recog-nizes that our time and energy are wasted in dreaming of another life here below where the proverbial grass may be greener. To be what we are is simply to welcome the life we have been given. St. Francis de Sales humorously says, Let us be what we are and be that well, in order to bring honor to the Master Craftsman, whose handi-work we are. People laughed at the painter who, intending to paint a horse, came up with a perfect bull; the work was handsome in itself, but not much credit to the artist who had other plans and suc-ceeded in this one only by chance. Let us be what God wants us to be, provided we are His, and let us not be what we would like to be, contrary to His intention. Even if we were the most perfect crea-tures under heaven, what good would that do us if we were not as God's will would have us be?29 Finally, to be real is to accept the far-ranging vicis-situdes of this life as coming from the hand of God. It is to "be where we are" in the joyful awareness that whatever is happening in our lives (or not), this is where God is pleased to have us be. It recognizes that the pres-ent moment is the only time within our control. To be where we are is simply to embrace all that occurs each day. St. Francis de Sales wisely suggests, Let us be firmly resolved to serve God with our whole heart and life. Beyond that, let us have no care Review for Religious about tomorrow. Let us think only of living today well, and when tomorrow comes, it also will be today and we can think about it then. In all this we must have great trust and resignation to God's providence. We must make provision for enough manna for the day, and no more. Let us not doubt that God will provide more for us tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and all the days of our pilgrimage.3° In sum, the virtue of simplicity as it comes to us through Salesian spirituality promotes human integ-rity. It seeks a correspondence between what is interior and exterior, between our vision and our comportment. It leads to peace by focusing our pursuits clearly and squarely on the love of God. And it allows us to be real in a world that is fast becoming virtual, so that who and what and where we are in God's eyes is all we need be. Notes ~ Originally presented at the eleventh annual fall conference of the University of Notre Dame's Center for Ethics & Culture (18-20 November 2010), whose theme was "Younger Than Sin: Retrieving Simplicity through the Virtues of Humility, Wonder, and Joy." 2 Nicola Gori, "Le visitiandine in Vaticano," L'Osservatore Romano, 2 December 2009. 3 Introduction to the Devout Life, III:1. 4 Introduction to the Devout Life, III:25. s Oeuvres de Saint Francois de Sales, gdition complkte (Annecy: J. Nidrat, 1892-1964), XXV1:283. 6jean Pierre Camus, The Spirit of St. Francois de Sales, edited and newly translated and with an introduction by C.E Kelley (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1952), 124-125. 7 Wendy Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," Salesian Living Heritage (Spring/Fall 1989): 8. "It is Francis's particular nuance. ¯. In a very sophisticated society with all types of people doing every kind of machination, cautious about the manner of approaching people and what should be said to whom and what effect one is making and what little white lies will make this effect and that effect, he says: 'No! We must be free of duplicity, free of guile, free of deceitfulness.'" 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity 8 Oeuvres V:329; see Oeuvres XXVI:366 - "Take care to manage these little encounters that God presents to you, put in them your virtue, and do not desire great works; for often one lets himself be knocked down by a gnat when he combats monsters by imagination." 9 Oeuvres XII:348. t0 Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," p. 10. 1, Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," p. I0: "Francis does make a distinction between religious and laity. He says that this kind of radical resting on the breast of God without care of self, without self-protection, is the particular charism of the Visitandines. ¯ . . Freedom from this demand [of worldly prudence] is the special luxury of the Visitation." 12 On 5 March 1604, Jane Frances Fr~myot, baroness de Chantal, attended the series of Lenten sermons hosted by her brother, the Archbishop of Dijon. The preacher was Francis de Sales. From their first encounter, and through his spiritual direction of her, a deep and lasting friendship was born. See Wendy Wright, "Spiritual Friendship and Spiritual Direction," Studia Mystica 12 (March 1989): 49-63. ~3 F. Vidal, Aux sources de la joie avec Saint Francois de Sales, 3rd edition (Paris: Nouvelle Librairie de France, 1964), p. 79: 14 Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," p. 11: "In the early years of her relationship with Francis, Jane is a tremendously intuitive woman, with powers of discerning spirits within herself, a strong psychological sense. Part of her growth is in this simplification, moving away from examining every motive, looking at it, turning it over a million ways. She has becomes just simple, doing what needs to be done, looking to God in love." is Oeuvres 17:16-17, with reference to Canticle 2:14. 16 Nevertheless, the Visitation lifestyle would still seek simplic-ity through exterior comportment in terms of ~lress (by wearing a widow's habit), language (by promoting both cordiality and silence), and conduct (by the humble exercise of monastic ranks, which were to be changed each year). ~7 As a literary form, the "conferences" are actually recollections of the talks as written by nuns with an incredibly strong memory. As to which published texts are "true" or "false" versions, and what that means for the reliability of the saint's thought expressed there, see William Ruhl's introduction to his new English translation of the French text reconstructed by Roger Devos (available online at www. oblates.org/spirituality/spiritual_conferences). 18 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 173). Review for Religious ,9 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 173). 20 Don Luigi Scanu, "La semplicith secondo San Francesco di Sales," Rivista di ascetica e mistica 4/2 (1959): 144, describes it thus: "If the soul had eyes, simplicity could be compared to the lenses that render seeing more acute, (more) fixed on God." 2~ Oeuvres XII: 167. 22 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 174). 23 Oeuvres VI:22. 24 Oeuvres Vl:20. 2s Oeuw'es VI:384. 26 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 179). 27 Ibid., p. 180. 28 Francis de Sales, Jane de Chantal, Letters of Spiritual Direction, trans. P6ronne Marie Thibert VHM (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 98. 29 Oeuvres Xli:53-54. 3o Letters of Spiritual Direction, pp. 98-99. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion At what times in your life have you felt the need to live more simply? What led you to move in that direction? What might have held you back? Are there other ".little virtues" that it would be good for us to work on in our community or for me as an individual to give more attention to? ,131 70.2 2011 BEATRICE M. EICHTEN Telling Our Story: Movements of Transformation Ware each born into a flowing moment of history, ¥ ¥ into a family, a culture, and a given set of circum-stances. All of these shape our story and our identity. We begin moving through life with a set of definitions and expectations given to us by our family, our soci-ety, and our church about who we are and who we are meant to become. At some point, however, we begin the journey of coming into our own. We begin to claim ourselves and engage in an ongoing process of trans-formation. I purpose to reflect on how we claim our story and enter into, understand, and use the inner gifts and sacred energy given to each of us by God. For those of us who chose to enter communal religious life, it is helpful to reflect on what called us to move out of a conventional life path and begin the journey of becom-ing and living as a vowed religious. We entered into a Beatrice M. Eichten OSF is a spiritual director and consultor for religious communities. Her address is 577 Huff Street, #1; Winona, Minnesota 55987. Review for Religious communal life of prayer and contemplation, of relation-ships that support and challenge, and of ministry that both fulfills and stretches us. Little did we know that immersion in our religious community with its unique charism would be a critical element of our ongoing dis-covery of the mystery and miracle of God alive in every aspect of our life. It is helpful to reflect on how this communal life has been important for our growth and development. Simply adopting a religious lifestyle is no guaran-tee of growth. Within religious communal life, we find God-- or God finds us-- through moments that deepen our identity and move us toward change and transformation. A moment of transformation can reverberate through all aspects of one's life, creating a foundation for living one's life fully as a person of integrity, as a member of one's religious community, and as a disciple. Each charism is imbued with language and practices that open one to transformation or conversion of heart. The Franciscan tradition places conversion at the heart of Franciscan identity as noted in the Franciscan Third Order Rule of Life: "With all . . . who wish to serve the Lord, the brothers and sisters of this order are to persevere in true faith and penance. They wish to live this evangelical conversion of life in a spirit of prayer, of poverty, and of humility." 1 Conversion is not a comfortable experience. Nor can it be programmed--"This year I will be converted to It is helpful to reflect on what called us to move out of a conventional life path. 133 70.2 2011 Eichten ¯ Telling Our Story 134 poverty." Typically, conversion comes unbidden, in unex-pected ways that surprise and confound. Ann Ulanov, a Jungian psychologist, says that "being truthful with our-selves can be messy business. [we think] the illusions we have created . . . will be more readily received than our true self.''2 We all have protective armor--which can look like virtue or competence or generosity--designed to hide our wounds and messiness and to keep us safe and protected. The human reality is that the wounds and messiness are often sacred places where our vulnerability and need create a crossing place for the Spirit.3 God will, however, find chinks in our armor and will slip through to unsettle us and to invite us to be changed into true disciples by God's abundant love. In any way of life, one can float on the surface, be carried along by others, and lead a "good" life to all appearances. But floating along does not give one passion and energy. An example. Our leadership team asked the sisters living at the motherhouse to spend time reviewing and reflecting on community--a kind of Community 101 refresher course--as part of a pro-cess of redesigning community living in our newly reno-vated physical space. We asked the sisters to focus on the choice they had made to say "Yes" to community--a Yes not limited by conditions. As we talked about it in small groups, a dear 84-year-old sister said quietly "I don't think I ever made that choice." She had lived her life with a gentle goodness, doing what she was told to do; but increasingly she suffered from low-grade depression and self-doubt. It is all too easy to find a comfortable niche and set-tle for comfort and security. However, settling in leads one, like standing water, to become stagnant and brack-ish. There is little one is able or willing to contribute to Review for Religious the great flow and energy of community life when one fears it will unsettle comfortable patterns of living and ministering. Any one of us could likely point to times when we have avoided,deciding or have opted for safety and comfort rather than for risk. It's not that we aren't involved in community life or engaged in a valued ministry, but rather that we are settling for comfort and for being "good enough" and begin living without zest or passion for life and minis-try. We can easily slip into being unwilling to risk and engage in change that might unsettle. Ron Rohlheiser says that the problem for religious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things. We are. The problem, he says, is that we are not great people. We have settled for giving 909/o of ourselves and have let go of the extra 10% that would give witness to the pas-sion and energy of God alive in and through us.4 When we entered, the assumption was that we wanted to give ourselves 100%. What are we holding back? How can we live more fully every moment of our life? Critical experiences and realizations lead us into moments of transformation and deepening maturity as committed religious women and men. How are those transformative moments still shaping our life responses today? How are we engaging them to create new responses for an unknown future? Claiming our Individual Stories We each have a powerful stoW of how God is alive and active in our lives. What is the stoW of your life and your transformative moments? What are the parts of your stoW that get said, and what remains unsaid? Christina Baldwin says "StoW is both the great revealer and concealer.''5 She goes on to say that "the tension 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story between what is said and what is not said is . . . the dilemma of the human family. It takes courage to tell our stories. We need to believe that our stories will be received and held in respect.''6 Somehow, we have gotten the message that we should be perfect. But we are all too aware of our imperfections. We carry within ourselves negative mes-sages about our worth and our adequacy. We are created as human, finite, vulnerable and fallible people--that is the mystery of Incarnation. What are we to do with our imperfection? Dietrich Bonhoeffer--using the language of sin and sinner (not our most favorite images)--says that the gospel., confronts us with the truth and says that we are great, desperate sinners, but invites us, as the sin-ners we are, to come to God who loves us. God wants us as we are. God does not want anything from us--a sacrifice, a work---but simply wants us as we are. We can hide nothing from God. The masks we wear before others will do us no good before God. God wants to see us as we are, wants to be gracious to us. We do not have to go on lying to ourselves and our brothers and sisters as if we were without sin.7 Bonhoeffer goes on to say that sin isolates us. It "withdraws us from the community. The more isolated a person is, the more destructive will be the power of sin over them. The sinner surrenders, gives up all their evil, gives their heart to God and finds the forgiveness of sin in the fellowship of Jesus Christ and his sister and brother." Sin is a strong word and we avoid using sin language whenever possible. But we know the impact of sin in community when we see isolation, withdrawal from others, or picking and choosing what part of com-munity life we are willing to live.8 Review for Religious Angeles Arrien, in her workshops and various publi-cations, says that a group can only go as far as its weak-est link. And the weakest link, she says, is the person who consciously chooses not to participate. She chal-lenges us to choose to be consciously present in com-munity, not as a prisoner (I have to be here against my will), not as a tourist (I'll sample what's happening and drop in and out as I choose), and not as a sophisticate (I know it all already). Rather, she challengs us to be present as explorers with a spirit of equanimity (a serene presence that enables us to see without judgment), with a willingness to engage in fair self talk (what I say to myself), and with fair witness (saying what I see without judgment or blame).9 Not an easy challenge! Community challenges us to be open to the Spirit alive in and among us, leading us into the adventure and risk of discovering more about ourselves and about others. It challenges us to authentic presence to one another. When we listen to each other's authentic story, Christina Baldwin says, "something sparks between us that makes us smile or cry with recognition--not out of sentimentality, but out of commonality, waking our remembrance that we are each other.'''° While we live in the midst of our stories, we do not yet know the outcome of those stories. We need to keep telling our stories, bringing to consciousness what is happening so we can understand better what our stories mean. Our stories are made up of words and of silent, quiet presence. Contemplative moments alone and as a community help us to listen at a deeper level, help to give shape to the meaning of our stories. Contemplation helps us to know that there is always movement at the deepest level of our lives. We are guided along the course of our lives, whether we are 137 70.2 2011 Eicbten * Telling, Our Story 138 experiencing moments of rest or moments of radical change. Contemplation helps us to trust the source of life and to risk moving around the next bend in our lives toward the unknown. As we live together in community we are invited to share our personal stories and to listen with rever-ence to the stories of our sisters and brothers. This is a sacred charge--to give the gift of oneself and to receive the gift of the other, and, in both, to discover how God is alive and present. Community Stories Our stories are not simply individual stories, Baldwin says: "Individually, we first put our lives into language, and then we act upon what we have said and how we have defined ourselves. Our stories about ourselves become the basis for our identity and the way we hold each other accountable for our individual actions.''~ Our stories are always more than stories about indi-viduals. Our individual stories lead us into relationship. We come together as a community at a given time and place for a reason. Think of the stories communities tell about their foundation as a congregation--of the sig-nificant events that have shaped their collective realities. These stories are the lens through which a community sees reality. Again, Baldwin says that "Collectively, the community., first creates a mythic self-image and his-tory and then acts to fulfill this declaration of place and promise in the world . When our story and our behav-ior are consistent, we relax; when story and behavior are inconsistent, we get tense.''12 If there is a disconnect between our story and our behavior, it generates discomfort and anxiety. "If we cannot make story and action fit," says Baldwin, "we Review for Religious either have to make a new story or change the action.''13 Research shows that when the facts do not match the story, we tend to discard the facts and cling to the story. We opt for denial and blindness rather than face the truth of the facts. Many congregations have stories about themselves as a pioneering group, earthy and engaged in the lives of ordi-nary people. Such stories are cor-roborated by the stories of how sis-ters went beyond - the school and convent to interact with families of our parish schools, or how they cared for homeless men hop-ping the trains during the Depression, or how they estab-lished institutions to provide education and health care. Our ministries and lifestyle, however, have changed from those early pioneering days. We need to examine how our behaviors match our founding story as we live and minister in new ways. If our community story, the lens through which we see reality, is inconsistent with our actions, are we able to talk about it? Or have we agreed that there are certain things we can talk about and certain things we do not talk about, or only talk about in a certain way? Are there only certain people who are acceptable and others who are dismissed? Baldwin calls this a "social trance," the creation of an idealized group story--and perhaps an idealized group membership. "[Our] agreements," says Baldwin, "create a social story," which stresses "how we belong and who belongs. If there is a disconnect between our story and our behavior, it generates discomfort and anxiety. 139 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story 140 Because the desire to fit in is a universal human trait, someone who breaks the trance of social story does so at great risk and, sometimes, great reward.''~4 Gerry Adams, the leader of the Irish Peace Process, insists that "the hardest dialog is not with the perceived enemy; it is with your own group.''~s Going beyond the accepted limits of our like-mindedness to ask the uncomfortable questions or to name the unpleasant reality with those to whom we have committed ourselves is scary. Standing up for the "other" puts us at risk of being criticized for being "disloyal" and of being symbolically or actually cast out and lumped with the other as an "outsider." The stories that we need to tell are not stories, from the past but, rather, today's stories, stories that help us know who we are. We are ourselves as individuals and we are each other. Talking about who we are today opens us to the promise of our future. Stories about large novitiate classes and of early years in institutional ministry are stories that have shaped and bonded those who experienced them. However, there are many in our congregations whose experiences are quite differ-ent (small entrance classes, individual ministries). Yet the old stories are often the ones thai get told and retold. Many did not have the experience of growing up when the community members lived and worked together in an institutional ministry. How do their sto-ries get told, and how well do we listen to them? What is the impact of their stories on our current communal and ministerial reality? Is the storytelling we do some-thing that enables us to move into discussion? Is it something that gives energy and hope for the present and the future? If we are to build a future together, we need to be together, knowing and embracing the truth of who we Review for Rdigiot~ are. We have an abundance of gifts and talents, and we need to trust that "there is enough and that we are enough.''~6 If we trust our sufficiency--what is inside each of us--we can act on it. While it would be good to have additional members, delaying decisions until more members appear is one more way of saying we are defi-cient or inadequate. It is not about having more bodies; having the heart and the willingness to let go and risk is what will make a difference. Tasks of Dialogical Communion The first task is to claim the gift of incarnation. Colleen Mallon 0P speaks of a new way of being disci-ples that might enliven our hope and deepen our aware-ness of God's loving grasp of our lives. She starts with the God-human relationship, which gifts us with God's love and goodness, which "points and directs us towards the places where mercy, peace, justice and reconciliation ache to be reaiized.''~7 The Incarnation acknowledges "the tension between transcendence and immanence; [Incarnation] is, in fact, to claim that tension is integral to our graced existence in this world, in these bodies, at this time in history," she says. "Our hope does not lie in some perfect world . . . but in our unflinching reli-ance on the gift of the Spirit as we humbly and confi-dently put our freedom at the service of the Love that has called us into existence." We are called into discipleship by our God for more than ourselves. Our charism is not about personal fulfill-ment, but about extending the loving, healing presence of God into our world. We are women and men called into discipleship--a discipleship that is sorely needed in our world. Mallon says that seeing our "discipleship as gift and task in a global world demands., a new asceti- 141 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story 142 cism that curbs our penchant to overindulge in com-munities of like mindedness, that calls us to be different from narrowly framed groups around us," communities that protect us and keep us safe. The second task, Mallon says, is the hard task of dialogical communion, an asceticism that challenges us to "attend to how the Spirit continues to communicate God's life in and through our historical unity, a unity that is more than mere uniformity." Hunkering down into an enclave of uniformity and caution, into preserving our-selves in a terribly divided global world is a movement from discipleship toward stagnation and death. To build authentic relationships, we need to talk to each other. We need to go beyond our judgments and preconceived notions of the other, we need to speak and listen together, and in so doing find the source of unity deep within us. God has made us with diverse charac-teristics. If we are to listen and talk with each other, we need to start by accepting that people are different. Our religious communities are made up of women and men of varying ages and of differing cultures and mindsets. God has called u~ to come together in community to witness to a unity that is possible. In the diversity of our religious community, we have the opportunity to give witness of an "actual, historical community struggling to hold and engage the truths emerging from diverse God experiences." It is not an easy task to stay in communion. We have personal divi-sions, resentments, and grudges from past hurts. We hold different views of church and politics. And we get tired of the struggle and slip into weariness or apathy and find ourselves saying "I've done my share. Let someone else do it"--whatever "it" is: leadership, rec-onciliation, reaching out to the poor. We are invited to Review for Religious widen our tents to welcome the other, to allow them to be present as they are, and to engage with them with respect. This cannot happen without the acceptance of deep diversity and a deep curiosity about the other and about one's own response to the other. The third task is for each of us to cultivate skills and disciplines for dialog. The foundation for this task is the realization that God has created each one of us as beloved contributors to the building up of God's community on earth: everyone has a bit of wisdom to contribute. There are some basic human skills and dis-ciplines needed to honor diversity and to make space for the other.~8 ¯ Choose to be present with curiosity and open-ness to learning. ¯ Be aware of when you absent yourself. ¯ Track what is happening to you when you get defensive or resistant, when you move into blame, judgment, or negativity. ¯ Take responsibility for finding value in yourself and the other. ¯ Take seriously your ability to respond from your authentic self. ¯ Speak directly and speak for yourself use "I" language and avoid third-person statements ("They say." "The sisters want.") or behind-the-scenes networking and gossip. ¯ Be curious about the other, especially those with whom you may not agree or even understand. ¯ Respect the confidentiality of others. What gets said in the group stays in the group. The challenge of dialogical communion lies before us. We are invited to share our stories and to listen with love and respect to the stories of our sisters and broth- 1143 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story 144] ers. To do that, we need to be aware of what is at the heart of our life and work. We need to challenge our-selves to risk sharing at that level with our sisters and brothers. In order to do that, we need to reflect on what we need to let go of to make space for the others. And we need to reflect on what we need from each other and what we can give to each other. Dialogical communion is a discipline that invites us to listen and share with one another, to "suspend our judgments so as to make space for each other and, in the very act of 'making space' encounter the God who does more in us and with us than we can ask or imagine.''19 St. Clare said it well when she admonished her sisters to "always be lovers of God and your souls and the souls of your sisters, and always be eager to observe what you have promised the Lord.''2° Colleen Mallon ends her article with the following challenge, and I can say it no better: "Hope lies in our courageous and sober confidence in the Spirit's power to bring all that is God's to fullness. In the spaces where fragile human hearts meet the Love and Truth that alone overcomes all alienation, there is the hope for a different kind of history, a different kind of humanity. The gift inspires the task. Shall we take up the task?''~1 Notes ~ Rule of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis, Chapter 1:2. 2 Margie King Saphier, Reflection on "Prayer as Primary Speech" quoting Ann Ulanov and Barry Ulanov (May 2008) at First Parish in Concord Unitarian Universalist Church, C. oncord, Massachusetts. Full text available at http://www.firstparish.org/cms/sermons/774- prayer-as-primary-speech. 3 Rev. Ann B. Ulanov, "Uncertain Boundaries, Dangerous Crossings," Plenary Address at 29th Annual Convention of the Review for Religious American Association of Pastoral Counselors, May, 1992, Charlotte, North Carolina. The full article can be found in Spiritual Aspects of Clinical Work (Daimon 2004) Chapter 9. 4 Ronald Rolheiser OMI, Presentation at National Religious Vocation Conference (September 2006). 5 Christina Baldwin, Storycatcher: Making Sense of Our Lives through the Power and Practice of Story, (Novato, California: New World Library, 2005), p. 17. 6 Ibid., p. 18. 7 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, adapted from Life Together (Harper & Row, 1954), pp. 110-111. s Ibid. 9 Angeles Arrien, from notes taken at a Thresholds of Collective Wisdom workshop, Sausalito, California. ,0 Baldwin, p. 24. ,i Baldwin, p. 78. 12 Ibid. 13 Ibid. ,4 Ibid., p. 83. 15 Colleen Mary Mallon OP, "Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialog," Review for Religious 66, no. 1 (January-March 2007): 51. 16 Lynne Twist, The Soul of Money, Reclaiming the Wealth of Our Inner Resources. (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003), p. 74. 17 Mallon, pp. 40-57. Realizing many would not have read her article, and finding her thoughts very helpful, I rearranged and high-lighted portions of her article for this presentation. There are direct quotes intermixed with my comments. is Angeles Arrien, adapted from notes on Protocols for Collective Work taken at a Thresholds of Collective Wisdom workshop, Sausalito, California. ,9 Mallon, p. 54. 20 Regis Armstrong OFMCap Clare of Assisi: The Lady. (New York: New City Press, 2006), p. 67. 2, Mallon, p. 54. 70.2 2011 ignatian insight EDWARD McCORMACK Approaching the Principle and Foundation from St. Ignatius's Mystical Worldview The Principle and Foundation is one of the most important and perplexing parts of Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. The Official Directory of 1599 acknowledged its importance, stating it is "the groundwork of the whole moral and spiritual edifice.'" Located at the beginning of the First Week of the Exercises, the Foundation summarizes impor-tant themes found throughout the Exercises. It highlights God's creative activity, the end for which human beings are created, and the importance of indifference. Nevertheless, it poses problems for a guide because no indi-cation is given in the Exercises as to how the 146 Edward McCormack is an assistant professor of Christian spirituality and chair of the Christian Spirituality Department at Washington Theological Union. He may be addressed at 6896 Laurel Street; Washington, DC 20012. Review for Religious retreatant should use the Foundation. It is not called a meditation, a contemplation, or a consideration. Nor does Ignatius give any instructions to the guide as to how it should be used. So what is it and how is it to be used? The practice of the Exercises changed a good deal between Ignatius's death in 1556 and the publication of the Official Directory of 1599. According to Ignacio Iparraguire, the Exercises went through a real decline during this time)Jesuits began to debate how to use the Foundation when directing the Exercises. Iparraguire identified two trends emerging in the use of the Foundation by the 1570s. One trend, represented by Juan Polanco, Ignatius's secretary, focused on the rela-tionship between Christ and the retreatant which elic-ited experiences of gratitude, great desires, and active indifference. This approach went back to Ignatius's prac-tice of talking with the retreatant about the faith vision summarized in the Foundation in order to evoke a set of preparatory experiences. The other trend, represented by Juan Miron, treated the Foundation as a theory and idea.3 According to Iparraguire, Juan Miron's approach won out by making its way into the Official Directory of 1599.4 As a result, the approach to the Foundation taken by Ignatius and Polanc0 was neglected for almost four hundred years in favor of a heavily rational and theoretical approach. Certainly Ignatius's terse and scholastic writing style is par@ the reason people approached the Foundation in this way. It reads as follows: The human person is created to praise, rever-ence and serve God our Lord, and by so doing save his or her soul; and it is for the human per-son that the other things on the face of the earth 147 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation are created, as helps to the pursuit of this end. It follows from this that the person has to use these things in so far as they help towards this end, and to be free of them in so far as they stand in the way of it. To attain this, we need to make ourselves indiffer-ent towards all created things, provided the matter is subject to our free choice and there is no prohibition. Thus for our part we should not want health more than sickness, wealth more than poverty, fame more than disgrace, a long life more than a short one--and so with everything else; desiring and choosing only what conduces more to the end for which we are created,s Beginning in the seventeenth century the Exercises were treated as an ascetical handbook or school of per-fection. This approach continued through much of the twentieth century. In this context, great stress was placed on the human activity of indifference. After the resto-ration of the Society of Jesus in 1814, the Foundation was treated as a set of philosophical truth claims or as a statement of God's plan. An illustration of this approach comes from EX. McMenamy SJ, who served as tertian director in Cleveland from 1929 to 1949: First Principle and Foundation. A principle is a begin-ning for the mind, and a foundation is a beginning for the will. With this first principle we begin all our reasoning about human life. The truth about human life can be deduced from it; error cannot, but must have another beginning. Upon the same principle the will builds its moral life as upon a foundation. What is good fits upon it; what is bad does not, but must have another foundation. By means of this first principle the mind and will get a start in the process of discov-ering the secret of life--what is true in life, what is good in life. And at the very start they must find God.6 Notice how often the words "mind," "reasoning," and "truth" appear in McMenamy's reading of the Review for Religious Foundation. While offering clear and confident claims, this approach will not evoke an experience of God's creative love; nor will it generate the powerful desires that move people to serve Christ. This "rationalistic" approach represented by McMenamy's has lost touch with Igntatius's mystical experiences at Manresa that lie behind the words of the Foundation and give them their power. Two important twentieth-century commentators on the Exercises have suggested different ways to recover Ignatius's use of the Foundation. Gilles Cusson con-sidered the Principle and Foundation as a process the retreatant undergoes during the preparation period. He suggests "the Foundation will be, first of all, the occasion of initiating the exercitant into an inspiring pe.rspective, a vision of the whole--one which includes the chief ele-ments of Christian faith, though not in detail.''7 Cusson thinks the faith vision presented by the Foundation goes back to what Ignatius learned at Manresa, especially at the Cardoner River.~ Joseph Tetlow is critical of this approach. For him, the Foundation is not an "occasion" but an experience. Moreover, Tetlow thinks "vision" is not the appropriate metaphor for understanding the process of the Foundation. Instead, he suggests "hear-ing" as the appropriate metaphor because hearing inter-nalizes rather than objectifies an experience.9 According to Tetlow, the Principle and Foundation summarizes a set of religious experiences one undergoes during the preparatory period, the most important of which is the experience of God creating us from moment to moment.10 Although Cusson and Tetlow disagree about the role of the Foundation in the Exercises, they do agree in a number of important ways. Both authors think the 149 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation Foundation harkens back to Ignatius's mystical experi-ences at Manresa and the Cardoner River.~l Although Cusson emphasizes the faith vision of the Foundation, he believes it was meant to evoke a religious experi-ence characterized by the desire to make the Exercises and a disposition of generosity toward God.12 Likewise, Tetlow's emphasis on religious experience does not exclude the recognition that the Foundation is a "mini-directory that gives the substance and the procedure for spiritual conversation during the years, months, or at least days leading up to the full Exercises.''13 It is my contention that both dimensions of the Foundation described by Cusson and Tetlow must be emphasized by directors of the Exercises today. Recent research indicates that emerging adult Christians lack a robust understanding of the Christian worldview pre-sumed by the Exercises, and have had limited experi-ences of God the Creator's love.~4 Building on the insights of Cusson and Tetlow, I will set the Foundation within the context of Ignatius's mystical experience at Manresa and the resulting worldview in order to bet-ter understand the role the Foundation plays in the Exercises, particularly with regard to the prepara-tory period. Such an approach will bring to life the faith vision and religious experience that lay behind the concise and academic language of the Principle and Foundation.~s I will then describe the faith vision embedded in the Foundation and the religious experi-ences it summarizes, both of which will provide direc-tion as to the nature of the preparatory period. Ignatius's Spiritual Awakening The Christian faith vision and religious experience summarized by the Foundation originated from the spiri- Review for Religious tual awakening and personal transformation that Ignatius of Loyola underwent between May 1521 and February 1523. These events took place at the Loyola family home and the little town of Manresa in northern Spain. Ignatius was born in 1491 into a proud, power-ful, and important family from the Basque region of Northern Spain. In 1509 at the age of 15, he began to work in the castle of Juan Velfisquez de Cuellar, the high treasurer of Castile where he received training as a courtier. In 1518, he became a member of the house-hold of the Duke of Najera where he spent three years as a gentleman of the court. Many years later Ignatius summarized his life in the courts of Spain with these words: "up to the age of twenty-six he was a man given to the vanities of the world; and what he enjoyed most was warlike sport, with a great and foolish desire to win fame."16 Ignatius's spiritual awakening began in May 1521 after sustaining a life-threatening leg injury defend-ing a castle against the French in Pamplona. He spent the next nine months recuperating at the Loyola fam-ily home. After recovering from a number of grueling surgeries, Ignatius spent his days from August 1521 through February 1522, dreaming of returning to his old life in the courts, reading the lives of the saints and a life of Christ. He soon found himself wrestling with two contradictory visions of his future life. At times he imagined himself returning to his old life as a courtier, while at other times he considered becoming a poor pil-grim devoted to Christ. By February 1522, he decided to give up his career as a courtier, embark on a pil-grimage to Jerusalem, and imitate the saints by doing penance for his past life. On the way to Jerusalem via Barcelona he stopped by the little town of Manresa, 151 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation where he ended up spending eleven months from May 1522 through February 1523. It was at Manresa that the Lord transformed Ignatius from an imitator of the saints to a pilgrim devoted to the mission of the Lord. Ignatius's Spiritual Transformation During his stay at Manresa, the Lord transformed Ignatius through a series of mystical experiences into a new person with a new mind and a new vision of reality. These mystical experiences began one day while Ignatius was saying the office of our Lady on the steps of a local monastery in Manresa. Suddenly he found himself drawn into the mystery of the Trinity at work in the world. "His understanding began to be elevated so that he saw the most Holy Trinity in the form of three musical keys." "As a result, the effect has remained with him throughout his life of experiencing great devotion while praying to the Most Holy Trinity.''~7 Through this experience and others to follow, he claimed, "I beheld, sensed within myself, and penetrated in spirit all the mysteries of the Christian faith.''~s What mysteries? Ignatius describes being given the gift of experiencing the Triune mystery creating all things. Once, the manner in which God created the world was presented to his understanding with great spiritual joy. He seemed to see something white, from which rays were coming, and God made light from this.19 This mystical experience brought to full bloom a sensitivity to God's generosity that first emerged at Loyola when Ignatius would "gaze at the stars and sky [and] find himself moved by a great impulse to serve the Lord.''2° This experience taught Ignatius that all cre-ation comes streaming toward us from the Triune God. Ignatius also learned that the Trinity does not dwell Review for Religious apart from creation but dwells in all creatures, giving them existence and all the gifts their nature requires. No longer was God's creation of the universe an event in the past. Ignatius now understood that God's ever-flowing love cre-ates all things from moment to moment. For the rest of his life, he found himself moved to praise and reverence God as the source of all good found in creation. Ignatius's sensitivity to the gift character of all reality is reflected in an event described by his companion Jerome Nadal: [When Ignatius was] lifted up by anything what-soever, as happened, for example, one day when I was with him in the garden, and look-ing at the leaf of an orange tree, he went into a lofty, elevated discourse about the Trinity.2~ Ignatius understood that God's ever-flowing love creates all things from moment to moment. Throughout the rest of his life, Ignatius found him-self moved by creation to reverence God, as is evidenced by this episode recounted by Diego Lainez when he lived at the Jesuit house in Rome: At night he would go up on the roof of the house, with the sky there above him. He would sit there quietly, absolutely quietly. He would take his hat off and look up for a long time at the sky. Then he would fall on his knees bowing profoundly to God. Then he would sit on a little bench because the weakness of his body did not allow him to take any other position. He would stay there bareheaded and without moving. And the tears would begin to flow down his cheeks like a stream, but so qui- 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Prindple and Foundation lY4] etly and so gently that you heard not a sob nor a sigh nor the least possible movement of his body.22 Ignatius was also given to penetrate in spirit the mysteries of Christ's presence in the Eucharist and the Incarnation. One day in this town while he was hearing Mass in the church of the monastery mentioned above, at the elevation of the Body of the Lord, he saw with interior eyes something like white rays coming from above . . . what he saw clearly with his understanding was how Jesus Christ our Lord was there, in that Most Holy Sacrament.23 "Often and for a long time, while at prayer, he saw with interior eyes the humanity of Christ.''24 These two experiences transformed Ignatius's under-standing of the Incarnation from an event in the distant past into the present activity of the risen Jesus in our world and in our lives. Ignatius realized that the Jesus who announced and enacted a kingdom movement in Galilee by gathering disciples, exorcising demons, and healing the sick was actively laboring in our world today to free the world from sin and bring about God's king-dom. 2s It was the crucified and risen Lord who rescued Ignatius from the "vanities of the world" and the fool-ish desire to gain fame. It was this same Lord Jesus who transformed him into a man with a new mind and new eyes. Ignatius felt called by the "divine Majesty" to be his companion and to cooperate with his worldwide mission. After these experiences, Ignatius's one desire was to live as an active companion of Jesus and do his will in every situation. This one desire was fulfilled years later as he and his companions Diego Lainez and Pierre Favre made their Way to Rome to offer their services to the pope. Ignatius had spent the previous year pre- Review for Religious paring to say his first Mass and asking Mary to place him next to her Son. During this time he experienced spiritual visions and supernatural experiences like those at Manresa. Stopping to pray at a chapel in the village of La Storta outside of Rome, he "experienced such a change in his soul and saw so clearly that God the Father placed him with Christ his son that he would not dare to doubt it.''26 Ignatius told Diego Lainez it seemed he could "see Christ with his cross on his shoulder and together with him the Father, who was telling him, 'I want you to serve us.'''27 What happened to Ignatius because of these mysti-cal illuminations? He tells us they "left his understand-ing so very enlightened that he felt as if he were a new man with another mind." "The enlightenment was so great that all things seemed to him altogether new.''28 It seemed that the Triune God invaded Ignatius's con-sciousness and restructured it so that from then on he perceived himself and the world from God's point of view. This was the source of his energy and life vision, and the real power behind his spirituality. A Trinitarian Worldview These mystical experiences led Ignatius to develop a trinitarian worldview that is the basis for the Spiritual Exercises.29 Let mesummarize the main features of his worldview. First, Ignatius viewed all creation com-ing from the Triune God and moving toward commu-nion with the Trinity. There is a dynamic movement at work in his worldview that begins with the coming of all people and all creatures in the entire universe from the Triune God, who is the one source of all good. As Creator, God is not just the source of all things but dwells in all creatures and continually creates them from 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation The vocation of all humanity is to cooperate with Christ's mission to heal and renew the world. moment to moment. Secondly, Ignatius believed that God's beautiful world is under attack by personal and social forces that seek to deface and destroy this world, especially humanity. The term Ignatius used for these forces was "the enemy of our human nature," which represents all the anti-creation and anti-human forces in our world. At the cen-ter of Ignatius's world-view is the crucified and risen Christ who labors in our world and in our lives through the Holy Spirit to rescue all humanity and cre-ation from the enemy, while bringing about God's new creation. In this context, the vocation of all humanity is to cooper-ate with Christ's mission to heal and renew the world. We are to make ourselves perfect instruments of God's grace and co-laborers in the sublime work of lead-ing God's creatures back to him as their supreme end. Unfortunately, human beings live out their vocation in the midst of the battle between Christ and the enemy of human nature. Mthough we are called by Christ to be a new creation and share in his mission, we are still infected by the sin of the world, which means our lives are in constant need of reform. The Faith Vision of the Foundation In the light of our study of Ignadus's mystical world-view, we are now in a position to draw out the implicit faith vision contained in the Foundation. The faith vision of the Foun&tion focuses on God the Creator, Review for Religious human beings, and the saving mission of Christ echoing key features of Ignatius's worldview. The activity of God the Creator plays an impor-tant role in the faith vision of the Foundation. This dimension of the Foundation deserves more atten-tion since commentators tend to focus on the vision of humanity presented by the Foundation with no men-tion of God's creation as a setting within which human beings know and serve Christ. The original Spanish text makes reference to God's creative activity five dif-ferent times.3° A careful reading of the Foundation in the light of Ignatius's worldview shows that every men-tion of humanity contains an implicit reference to the activity of God the Creator. For instance, the claim that "human beings are created to praise, reverence, and serve God" assumes God is creating humanity, the cosmos and all "other things on the face of the earth." It is God the Creator who fashions human beings with a purpose in mind. What motivates human beings to praise, reverence, and serve God is the abundantly gen-erous activity of God the Creator which moves human beings to gratitude and love of God. Finally, human beings are able to pursue the end for which they are created because the Creator God has given humanity all "other things on the face of the earth" as gifts with which to steward the garden.31 The Foundation presents humanity's role in creation in terms of three relationships. Our most fundamental relationship is to God the Creator, who is the source of all the good we have received throughout our lives. Praise, reverence, and service are the defining charac-teristics of our relationship to God the Creator. God deserves praise because of God's generosity, reverence because of God's holiness, and service because we are 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Prindple and Foundation "To save ourselves" is Ignatian shorthand for our cooperation with the mission of the risen Lord, called to reflect God's generosity to us in our care of others. The Foundation also acknowledges our com-plicated relationship with other human beings and the rest of creation when it challenges us to be indifferent in the face of a choice between goods. Finally, human beings find meaning in life by pursing the end for which they were created. Implied here and in Ignatius's refer-ence to "Our Creator and Lord" is our relationship with Christ. He is our Creator and Lord; he is the source of our salvation whose mission is the "end for which we are created.''32 Just as God the Creator is missing from most dis-cussions of the Foundation, Christ's role in the faith vision of the Foundation has also been neglected. The reason for this is that while God and humanity are explicitly mentioned in the Foundation, Christ is not. Nevertheless, phrases such as "saving his soul," "the end for which we are cre-ated," "indifference," and "the magis" only make sense within the saving work of Jesus Christ. "The end for which we were created" is nothing less than the mission of the risen Christ. "To save ourselves" is Ignatian shorthand for our cooperation with the mission, of the risen Lord, not some Pelagian approach to Christianity. The practice of praising and reverencing God for all we have received motivates us to cooperate with Christ in service to the Father.33 "To make ourselves indifferent" is the Spirit-empowered free-dom to find and do the will of Christ, which anticipates Review for Religious the Election. The ability to "desire and choose what is more conducive to our end" is only possible because we know Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. Religious Experience and the Foundation As we mentioned above, Joseph Tetlow argued that the Foundation summarizes a set of religious experi-ences one undergoes during the preparatory period. Our study of the faith vision contained in the Foundation suggests that the Foundation summarizes two different types of religious experience. The first type is an experience of God the Creator's personal love for us. The vision of God's creative activ-ity contained in the Foundation invites us to experience God's generous love in the beauty of all creation and in all the good we have been given throughout our lives. The common practice of praying over one's life story in a spirit of gratitude fosters this experience in the fol-lowing way. As we remember the gifts we have been given, we discover how much God has been involved in our lives and has loved us, which in turn generates a profound sense of gratitude and love for God. We remember people who cared for us and some of the wonderful events in our lives. We also recall being car-ried through difficult times and pulled out of chaotic situations into places of stability and peace. We may remember dark times when we discovered meaning in events that seemed meaningless. Prayer experiences like this can transform the many people and events in our lives from something we took for granted into events of gift and mystery, thereby changing how we understand our lives. The discovery of the gift character of one's life signals the emergence of a new level of consciousness in which we begin to experience all good things com- 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation ing from the Triune God. We begin to recognize that the many gifts we have received were vehicles through which God has loved us throughout our lives. A mount-ing sense of gratitude and praise transforms experiences remembered into an experience of the boundless gener-osity and love of God the Creator in the here and now. The Holy Spirit, who enabled us to discover God's love in our past, fills us with gratitude and now impels us to praise, reverence, and serve God in the present. The second type of religious experience comes in the form of a set of challenging reflections that antici-pate the First Week of the Exercises.34 For instance, the claim that "human beings are created to praise, reverence, and serve God" raises the following ques-tions. Do I praise and reverence God? Have I spent my life serving God? If not, then who or what have I been serving throughout my life? Why do I not feel moved to praise God? Other equally disturbing ques-tions may arise as I reflect on the claim that all other things are created as helps to the end for which I was created. How have I treated the people, gifts, and expe-riences God has given me? Have I used them in the service of God? Do I see them as gifts or as a means to get my needs met? Perhaps the strongest challenge posed by the Foundation comes from the call to be indifferent in our use of creatures. Do I desire God's will above my own comfort and reputation? Am I open to finding God not just when I am healthy, wealthy, and respected, but when I am sick, poor, and humili-ated? The Foundation emphasizes that human beings are created for a purpose and therefore should desire and choose what is more conducive to that end. This raises the problem of choosing from among the many ways one can serve God. How can I know what is the Review for Religious life direction I should choose, recognizing how easily one can be deceived in this matter? How can I discover Christ's desire for me amongst my many desires? These challenging reflections may move a person to surrender to God, once again preparing the person for the rest of the Exercises.3s Preparatory Period Our study of the Foundation raises questions about our contemporary approach to the preparatory phase of the Exercises. Contemporary commentators and authors of directories are divided over what to emphasize during this period. For instance, Gilles Cusson, John Futrell, and Michael Ivens all insist on the importance of promoting the faith vision of the Foundation.36 John English, John Veltri, and Joseph Tetlow tend to emphasize the impor-tance of religious experience.37 My suggestion is that our approach to the preparatory period must be based on our understanding of Ignatius's mystical worldview, especially as it illuminates the faith vision and religious experiences summarized in the Foundation. During the preparatory period the guide should discuss with the retreatant the faith vision behind the Exercises while offering mate-rial for prayer that corresponds to the two types of reli-gious experiences summarized by dae Foundation. This approach, which links understanding with experience, is consistent with the dialectical approach used by Ignatius through the rest of the Exercises. The time to discuss this worldview is when the guide offers points for prayer. The themes for prayer and the scripture passages selected must foster an experience of the activity and of God the Creator's love in the retreatant's life. Recent research on the faith life of young adult Catholics demonstrates how important this approach is for people making the :161 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Prindple and Foundation 1.621 Exercises today. We are learning that this population has little knowledge of the Catholic worldview and little experience of the love and generosity of God the Creator. Before proceeding to the First Week of the Exercises, a guide must be sure a retreatant who fits this demo-graphic has a sufficient understanding of the worldview of the Exercises and some personal experience of the gift character of reality and God's love for them. Certainly some retreatants may require a prolonged discussion of the Christian worldview, while others may require more experiences of the love of God the Creator. Conclusion I have tried to crack open up the dense, academic language of the Foundation by presenting Ignatius's mystical experiences and worldview as the context for understanding the Foundation. Set within that context, one can understand the powerful faith vision contained in the Foundation and the religious experience it evokes. Understanding this twofold nature of the Foundation provides a warrant for a robust approach to the prepa-ratory period that includes discussion of our Catholic faith-vision and prayer experiences that lead a person into the boundless love God the Creator has for us and all creatures. Notes 1 Official Directory of 1599 translated and edited by Martin Pahner SJ in On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1599 (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 311. 2 Ignacio Iparraguire, Hi~toria de los Ejercicios de San lg~mcio Volume 2 (Rome: Institutum HistoricumS.I., 1955), pp. 321-413. 3Joseph Tetlow SJ, "The Fundamentum: Creation in the Principle and Foundation," Studies in Jesuit Spirituality 21/4 (September, Review for Religious 1989): p. 37. 4 My own reading of the Official Directory of 1599 indicates that both approaches are held in tension in the directory. That said, in the subsequent history of the Foundation, Miron's approach does win out. s I am using the Michael Ivens translation in Understanding the Spiritual Exercises (Herefordshire: Gracewing, 1998), p. 29. 6 Francis Xavier McMenamy SJ, Eight-Day Retreat, Based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. William J. Grace sJ (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1959), p. 8. 7 Gilles Cusson SJ, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises, trans. Mary Angela Roduit RC and George Ganss SJ, (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 50. 8 Ibid., p. 51. 9 Tetlow, p. 7. ,0Ibid. '~ Tetlow, p. 49; Cusson, p. 51. ~2 Cusson, pp. 50-51. L3 Tetlow, p. 51. ~4 Christian Smith and Patricia Snell, Souls in Transition: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of Emerging Adults (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 118-132, 154-164. is Ivens, p. 27. ~6 Ignatius of Loyola, Autobiography (trans. Parmananda Divarkar sJ) in Ignatius of Loyola: Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works, ed. George Ganss SJ (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), p. 68. (Hereafter Autobiography) ~7 Autobiography, p. 79. 18 Fontes Narrativi. MHSI, MI Series 2, 123. Quoted in Hugo Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian. Translated by Michael Barry (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), p. 5. 19 Ibid., p. 80. 20 Ibid., p. 72. 2, Jerome Nadal, Platicas de espirituales del p. jeronimo Nadal, S.I., en Coimbra, 1561, edited by Miguel Nicolau sJ, 71, quoted in Joseph Conwell, Contemplation in Action: A Study in Ignatian Prayer, (Spokane: Gonzaga University Press, 1957), p. 30. ~2 Fontes Narrativi. MHSI, MI Series 4, 746-749 quoted in William Meissner SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Psychology of a Saint (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), p. 280. 163 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation Autobiography, p. 80. Ibid. 2s Charles J. Jackson SJ, "Something That Happened to Me at Manresa: The Mystical Origin of the Ignatian Charism," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 38/2 (Summer, 2006): 7-18. 26 Autobiography, p. 96. 27 Cited in Pedro Arrupe SJ, "The Trinitarian Inspiration of the Ignatian Charism." Studies in Jesuit Spirituality 33/3 (May, 2001): p. 19. 28 Autobiography, p. 81. 29 See Cusson, pp. 51-76. 30In the Spanish Autograph the word criado or criadas appears five times, making the activity of God more obvious than in the English translations. 31 The implicit theology of creation contained in the Foundation becomes explicit in the Contemplatio, thereby illuminating and con-firming the implicit context of the Foundation. 32 Cusson, pp. 54758. 33 This is also the dynamic implied by the grace of the Contemplatio. 34 The idea of the Foundation being a challenge goes back to a suggestion made by Ignatius to Juan Alonso de Vitoria. See Palmer, p. 21. 35 Ibid. In Vitoria's account Ignatius claims "the Foundation" is surrender to God. 36 Ivens, p. 27; Cusson, pp. 47-52; John Futrell SJ and Marian Cowan CSJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. lgnatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Le Jacq Publishing, Inc., 1981), pp. 23-25. 37 Tetlow, 7-8; John Veltri SJ, Orientations Volume I, pp. 46-48; John English SJ, Spiritual Freedom (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1995), pp. 26-27. Review for Religious RICHARD J. HAUSER Discerning the Spirit: A Personal Journey Eoach summer I teach the course on discernment f spirits in Creighton University's graduate program in Christian Spirituality. I am always surprised to discover that most of the students have never had any formal education in the discernment of spirits. This is even more astounding since our students already have good theological backgrounds and many are pastoral ministers. Recently I gave presentations on discernment of spirits to two large groups of priests. I was surprised to learn that the majority in each group had never received any formal instruction on discernment. And I have to confess that I myself was unfamiliar with discernment of spirits until I was thirty-five years Richard J. Hauser SJ is professor of theology and director of the masters program in Christian Spirituality at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. His address is Creighton University Jesuit Community; 2500 California Plaza; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit old--even though I had been through the entire Jesuit formation process and held a licentiate and doctorate in theology. Why has it taken so long for many of us to grasp this discipline, a discipline as central to spirituality as personal prayer is? I believe that the root of the inability to grasp dis-cernment of spirits can be traced back to the inability to appropriate personally the gift of the Holy Spirit given at Pentecost: "You must reform and be baptized, each one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, that your sins may be forgiven: then you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:38). Though we acknowledge intel-lectually that we have indeed received the gift of the Spirit at baptism, we have not learned the skill of rec-ognizing (discerning) when the Spirit is moving within our hearts. What inhibits our ability to recognize the Spirit's presence in daily life? The following is a partial list of theological and cultural assumptions affecting our Western consciousness and blocking the ability to dis-cern the Spirit. While these assumptions have been more dominant in the past, in my observation they con-tinue to affect our consciousness today. Further, they are so foundational that until we articulate them we are not even aware of how they affect our ability to discern the Spirit. I am aware that these descriptions are over-simplifications. Theological Assumptions We have an inadequate and incomplete image of God. We imagine God as totally transcendent but have no understanding of God as also immanent: God is "out there." This God, who may indeed be a loving God-- Review for Religious rather than a punitive Ruler-Judge--gives us directives on how to live our lives on earth fully. These directives flow from Jesus, church teaching, and, for some, from the rules of their religious order or institute (for me, the Society of Jesus). Our role is to follow God's will by following God's com-mandments. But since God is "out there," following God's will depends totally on our own initiative, with no help from God. We do indeed believe intellectu-ally that God is with us, but we really do not know how to identify that pres-ence in our lives--other than recognizing the special presence of Jesus after receiving Holy Communion. We have an inadequate understanding of human nature. Many of us see human nature as basically sin-ful and untrustworthy because of original sin. Freud's description of the self seems to dominate our under-standing. The self is basically sinful and is driven by instinctual desires to gratify personal needs, with no regard for God or others. This understanding resonates with our experience because it acknowledges the broken-ness of human nature due to original sin. Consequently since the self is basically self-centered and unconcerned with loving God and others, its inner promptings can-not be trusted. Therefore we are directed to live our lives in keeping with the external directives God gives through scripture, the church, and our religious groups. We have an inadequate understanding of holiness. Holiness is concerned primarily with obedience to God's will as known through scripture, church teaching, and We have an inadequate understanding of human nature and holiness. 167 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit the rules of our religious groups. To the degree we are faithful in observing these directives, we are holy. I recall the mantra used throughout my Jesuit formation period: "You keep the Rules, and the Rules will keep you." Again, since we think of God as totally transcendent, we assume that obedience to God's will flows totally from our efforts, with no help from God. We identify holi-ness and external compliance with religious obligations, giving little consideration to the attitudes underlying the performance of those obligations. Additional misunderstandings regarding sanctify-ing grace and redemption exacerbate the problem. If pushed, many of us would describe sanctifying grace as a reward earned by our good deeds, given by God, and stored up in heaven. Though we believe that the Holy Spirit is the Sanctifier (the Father creates; the Son redeems; the Holy Spirit sanctifies), we don't connect sanctifying grace with the Holy Spirit as sanctifier. As far as I recall, the seminary treatments on sanctifying grace dealt primarily with theological disputes: the rela-tionship between original sin and grace, between free will and grace (predestination), between grace and good deeds (Augustine vs. Pelagius). I recall also a dispute between the Jesuits and Dominicans on the topic that became so heated that the pope had to forbid each order to discuss it. And we have an inadequate understanding of redemption. The traditional explanation of redemp-tion, the Satisfaction Theory of St. Anselm, teaches that Jesus as "God-Man" satisfied the debt owed to God by the human race because of Adam and Eve's sin. Since Jesus was truly human, he could represent the human race, and since he was truly divine, his suffering could satisfy the offended justice of the Divinity. Jesus' death Review for Religious saved us by repaying our debt and opening the gates of heaven. Whatever its strengths, this particular explana-tion of salvation does not focus on the sending of the Holy Spirit as the culmination of the Paschal Mystery. Cultural Assumptions Also contributing to our lack of understanding of the indwelling Spirit and discernment of spirits are sig-nificant cultural attitudes. Again, excuse my oversim-plifications. Our culture fosters a secular view of human behav-ior. Since the Enlightenment in the seventeenth cen-tury, we have divided the world into a sacred sphere and a secular sphere. Heaven, where God dwells, is sacred; earth, where we dwell, is secu-lar. Our understanding of human behavior is therefore entirely sec-ular. The theories of human behavior com-ing from the major schools of psychology following Freud, Skinner, and Maslow are agnostic. I recall rel-ishing Erich Fromm's The Art of Loving, in which he presents a cogent explanation of healthy active loving in psychoanalyti'c terms. Since Fromm is an agnostic, there is no mention of God. It was only years later that I real-ized that his psychological explanations were incomplete because they didn't include God. Christians believe that the source of all selfless love is God: God is love, and , where there is love, there is God. Our culture promotes a capitalistic view of rewards and punishments both for this life and for the next. Our culture fosters a secular view of human behavior. 169 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit 170 We get what we deserve in life! When we are children, our parents reward or punish us for our behavior; when we are students, our teachers grade us according to our performance; when we are employees, our bosses com-pensate us according to our productivity. Our capitalistic mentality conditions us to assume that God acts in the same way and that God's lov;e is conditional and depen-dent on our behavior. We talk of "earning" grace and indulgences. A Puritan ethic built into our mentality even views our material prosperity and wealth as a reward or punishment for our fidelity in obeying God's laws. Our culture inculcates an individualistic view of our existence. We see ourselves as the cen-ter of the universe, existing independently of the larger human community, except for our fam-ily. From this center we earn our position in society by personal initiative and hard work and are indebted to no one but ourselves for our success. We earn mate-rial rewards from society and grace from God. We even assume that society and government exist primarily to help us maximize this self-interest. We are proud of the rags-to-riches stories characterizing new waves of immi-grants to America and our successful entrepreneurs. From this American individualism arises a fear of dependence both on one another and on God. We believe we are self-sufficient. Our cultural hero remains the cowboy clearing up outlaw problems and riding off alone into the sunset, needing nothing and no one. We even believe we are independent of God and have earned whatever we get from God, just as we have earned economic rewards from society. My students feel demeaned when they learn that God's grate is needed for all good deeds. I have to confess that to a greater or lesser degree I Review for Religious shared the above theological and cultural assumptions until 1974. Personal Crisis In 1974 my life reached a crises. After leaving stud-ies in the fall of 1972, I began my university teaching career. Very eager to be successful in my new ministry, I worked ten to twelve hours a day. I wanted to be a successful teacher. This demanded preparing new courses and then discovering how to pres-ent them effectively to students. I was in a department with several excellent teachers, and I was comparing myself with them and working to be as successful--and as popular--with students as they were. This caused stress and anxiety. I wanted to begin publishing. No one is awarded tenure at my university simply on the basis of good teaching. I was in a department with several outstand-ing scholars who wrote books and published regularly in refereed journals. I compared myself with them and wanted to be as successful in publishing as they were. But this meant I had to discover insights worth publish-ing and then find editors willing to publish them. More stress and anxiety. Finally, receiving tenure required university and community service. This meant I had to get myself known, respected, and elected by my peers to commit-tees in the department, college, and university; it also involved being invited to give presentations to local, regional, and national groups. More stress and anxiety. After two years of this I was exhausted. Providentially the time had arrived in my Jesuit formation when supe-riors invited me to do tertianship. Tertianship for Jesuits is the final period of spiritual formation, normally 171 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit done after beginning a permanent ministry assignment. I asked to do this in two summers rather than in the usual nine-month format. I was afraid of interrupting my march toward tenure by taking off an entire year. In the summer of 1974 I arrived--exhausted--for tertianship. As I settled down and gained some perspec-tive on the previous two years, I began acknowledging my stress and anxiety. I recognized that I was function-ing rather well externally but that my ministry was tak-ing a great personal toll. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I was not experiencing the peace promised by the resurrected Christ: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid" On 14:27-28). Concluding that I did not want to live under this pressure and stress the rest of nay life, I decided to give my university ministry another year. If I continued to experience the same stress and anxiety, I-would ask to be assigned to a different ministry. Then we were introduced to discernment of spirits. At this point, I had no real understanding of discern-ment, even though the founder of my Jesuit Order, St. Ignatius of Loyola, is a major contributor to the litera-ture on discernment through his Rules for Discernment of Spirits in The Spiritual Exercises. During my time of formation in the Jesuits--the fifties and sixties--we did not receive any instruction on these rules. I assumed that the guidelines were meant solely to help retreat directors guide people though the thirty-day retreat for-mat given in The Spiritual Exercises. Obedience to the dictates of scripture, the church, and our Jesuit rules would guide my life. No need for discernment here. Indeed, I had a basic misunderstanding of discern- Review for Religious ment, viewing it as external conformity to God's will. I had been missioned by superiors to work in a uni-versity; discernment meant examining my fidelity to teaching, scholarship, and service. Yet I knew something was wrong. The anxiety remained troublesome; I often experienced myself as an empty man doing good deeds. After several presentations on discernment of spir-its, I began to realize that my stress and anxiety were signs I was frequently out of tune with God's pres-ence in my ministry. My life was not oriented to recognizing and respond-ing to the internal move-ments of the Spirit within my heart but to the successful fulfillment of external obli-gations in teaching, scholarship, and service. I became aware that much of my energy was driven by personal career goals rather than by following the Spirit in serv-ing God's kingdom. This was a watershed in my life. Though my external behavior was appropriate, I was not living a very deep spiritual life. After the summer program, I returned to my univer-sity. I resumed my regular practice of examen of con-science at noon and at night but with a different focus. Now I began reviewing my life not primarily for fidelity to performing external duties of ministry but for the quality of my heart underlying these duties. Basic ques-tions: Where was my heart loving and peaceful today? Where was it not? I was finally discerning my response to the Spirit's presence. At this point I began a new daily practice--journal-ing. Each morning I journaled on the previous day's Where was my heart loving and peaceful today ? Where was it not? 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit fidelity to responding to the Spirit, noting particularly the stress and anxiety that resulted from not responding. I lived that year with much greater peace. The Holy Spirit in Daily Life The documents of Vatican Council II, with its reap-propriation of the role of the Spirit in Christian life, initiated major shifts that affected my understanding of the church and sanctifying grace, the self and redemp-tion, holiness and Christian spirituality. Additionally these documents along with subsequent church teach-ing on the Holy Spirit directly addressed each of the inade, quate theological and cultural assumptions that had blocked my understanding of the indwelling Spirit and discernment of spirits. The council transformed our understanding of the church and grace, moving us from a hierarchical model to a People of God model. Before the council we acknowl-edged that the Holy Spirit guided the church through the hierarchy. The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church taught that the Spirit also guided believers individually: The Spirit dwells in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple (see 1 Co 3:16; 6:19). In them he prays and bears witness to the fact that they are adopted sons (see Ga 4:6; Rm 8:15-16 and 26). The Spirit guides the Church into the fullness of truth (see Jn 16:13) and gives her a unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs her with various gifts, both hierarchical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of His grace (see Ep 4:11-12; 1 Co 12:4; Ga 5:22). (4) And this shift initiated a new understanding of grace. I began identifying sanctifying grace with the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. I recall my exhilaration at the following insight, which I published in a 1986 Review for Religious article: "The Holy Spirit is the completion of what God has given us in Christ. Let us consider sanctifying grace as the power given us through the presence of the Spirit to enter into a deeper relationship with Christ and so become more like him." Flowing from a renewed theology of the Holy Spirit is an understanding of the self and human behavior that acknowledges the role of the Spirit. Pope John Paul II, in his 1986 encyclical Lord and Life-Giver, reiterated the intimate relationship between Jesus and the Holy Spirit and redemption, a connection I had never understood: The redemption accomplished by the Son in the dimensions of the earthly history of humanity., is at the same time, in its entire salvific power, trans-mitted to the Holy Spirit: the one who "will take what is mine." The words of the text of John indicate that, according to the divine plan, Christ's "depar-ture" is an indispensable condition for the "send-ing" and the coming of the Holy Spirit, but these words also say that what begins now is the new, salvific self-giving of God, in the Holy Spirit. (11) The entire effect of the redemption by Christ was transmitted to the Holy Spirit! Since we had received the gift of the Spirit we could now trust our inner selves. The Holy Spirit would guide and strengthen us. Finally the theology of the Holy Spirit transformed the understanding of holiness and spirituality. Holiness could not be equated with self-initiated obedience to external laws; more profoundly--and without ignor-ing exterior laws--holiness is a response to the Spirit-initiated interior law written on our hearts. Paul harshly criticizes those who felt that fidelity to the external law was sufficient for living their new life in Jesus. Paul emphasized that this new covenant in Jesus is not a writ-ten law but a law of the Spirit in our hearts: 175 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit But now we are discharged from the law, dead to that which held us captive, so that we serve not under the old written code, but in the new life of the Spirit (Rm 7:5). This great confidence in God is ours, through Christ. It is not that we are entitled of ourselves to take credit for anything. Our sole credit is from God, who has made us qualified ministers of a new cove-nant, a covenant not of a written law but of spirit. The written law kills, but the Spirit gives life (2 Co 3:4-6). I realized for the first time a foundational truth of our faith: the Spirit of Christ in us initiates and brings to fulfillment every good desire of our heart: Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Vv'hoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing (Jn 15:4-5). The heart of Christian spirituality is recognizing and responding to the movements of the Holy Spirit. Not surprisingly, during the year between my first and second summer of tertianship I began experiencing greater peace in my life--the peace that Christ prom-ised his disciples almost every time he appeared to them after the Resurrection: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid" (Jn. 14:27-28). Reflecting back upon this period I recognize that practicing the discipline of discernment of spirits "saved" my university ministry. Jesus and Discernment: An Afterword My conviction on the centrality of discernment of spirits for Christian spirituality was deepened when I Review for Religious realized another truth about the Holy Spirit: the Holy Spirit is also Jesus' sanctifier. In his 1992 exhortation I Will Give You Shepherds Pope John Paul II's assertion that the Holy Spirit is the source of Jesus' holiness and ministry initially shocked me: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Lk 4:18). The Spirit is not simply "upon" the Messiah, but he "fills" him, penetrating every part of him and reaching to the very depths of all that he is and does. Indeed, the Spirit is the principle of the "consecration" and "mis-sion" of the Messiah: "Because he has anointed me and sent me to preach the good news to the poor"(Lk 4:18). Through the Spirit, Jesus belongs totally and exclusively to God and shares in the infinite holiness of God, who calls him, chooses him and sends him forth. In this way the Spirit of the Lord is revealed as the source of holiness and of the call to holiness. As I reflected further I realized that this assertion makes complete sense. Jesus is truly divine; therefore, Jesus' historical existence can never be separate from the Holy Spirit and the Trinity. And Jesus is also truly human, like us in all things but sin; therefore, like us he also needs guidance from God. The following passage from the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World is an eloquent reflection on Jesus' humanity: Since human nature as He assumed it was not annulled, by that very fact it has been raised up to a divine dignity in our respect too. For by His Incarnation the Son of God has united Himself in some fashion with every man. He worked with human hands, He thought with a human mind, acted by human choice, and loved with a human heart. Born of the Virgin Mary, He has truly been made one of us, like us in all things but sin. (22) 177 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit This realization posed a new question: does Jesus discern the Spirit? As I reflected on the question it seemed that Jesus' regular rhythm of withdrawal from his ministry to pray was his way of searching for the Spirit's strength and guidance for the next right step for his ministry. This rhythm begins immediately after his baptism by John at the River Jordan. Aren't Jesus' forty days in the desert before initiating his public ministry a time of his discernment of God's will? Doesn't his reaction to the three temptations show his discernment between Satan's voice and the Spirit's voice? The conclusion: since discernment of the Spirit is central for Jesus, it is also central for us. Note: a complete treatment of Fr. Hauser's approach to discernment of the Holy Spirit can be found in his book Moving in the Spirit: Becoming a Contemplative in Action (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), $10.95. 178 Review for Religious JOHN V. KRUSE Apostolic Visitations: Clare of Assisi's Insights from the Thirteenth Century As is widely known, in 2008 the prefect for the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life called for an apostolic visitation of women's religious communities in the United States. In 2009, the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith initiated a doctrinal assess-ment of the Leadership Council of Women Religious, the largest organization of women religious in the U.S. Some women religious and American Catholics in general are skepti-cal of the Vatican's motives for the visitation and assessment. Is Rome trying to "rein in" women religious whom some members of the consecrated life John V. Kruse PhD is a historical theologian with exper-tise in Franciscan spirituality and the office of the papacy. Dr. Kruse, a resident of Wilmington, Delaware, is an assistant professor of theology at Neumann University. He can be addressed at Nemnann University; Departanent of Pastoral and Theological Studies; 1 Neumann Drive; Aston, Pennsylvania 19014. 179 70.2 2011 Kruse ¯ ~lpostolic Visitations hierarchy see as having strayed from their real mis-sion of supporting the hierarchy as it seeks to defend what is perceived as (or declared to be) orthodoxy? Is it trying to standardize women's religious life to a more pre-Vatican II model? Is it seeking to control the man-ner in which women religious strive to return to the original charisms of their orders, as instructed by the Second Vatican Council itself? Such papal visitations and assessments are not the first for women religious in the church's history. In the thirteenth century, Clare of Assisi faced her own apostolic visitations as she strove to live a life of absolute poverty based on the life of Christ and rooted in the spirit of Francis. Such a practice of poverty was practically unheard of for women religious of the time and ran contrary to the papacy's agenda to standardize women religious movements according to traditional monastic norms. Because of this, popes of the period and their representatives visited Clare in order to try to convince Clare to abandon her Franciscan charism and her call to absolute poverty so that she could embrace a life of strict enclosure and serve as a unifying force in their efforts to standardize women's religious life. An examination of Clare's response to these visitations uncovers insights into how women religious and other American Catholics might receive and respond to the visitation and assessment happening today. According to accounts of her early life, Clare (born c. 1194), a member of Assisi's noble class, seemed always to have had a special love of and concern for the poor. It was probably at a young age that she encountered the preaching and way of life of Francis, perhaps in the Cathedral of San Rufino near her childhood home. After meeting with Francis on a number of occasions, Revieva for Religious Clare sensed a vocation to follow him in living a life of radical poverty modeled on the example of Christ. On Palm Sunday 1212, after having given her dowry to the poor, Clare fled from her family to join Francis and his followers at the Church of St. Mary of the Angels (or the Porziuncola), where Francis tonsured her. Clare obviously could not take up residence with Francis's fri-ars. After she had lived for a short time in two other religious communities of women, Francis took Clare to the Church of San Damiano, in which Francis himself is said to have earlier heard the voice of Christ tell-ing Francis to rebuild his church. Clare sought to live a life different from the monastic model standard for women religious at that time. In fact, Jacques de Vitry, bishop of Acre, passing through central Italy during the first part of the thirteenth century, provides us with a first-hand description of the religious community of the first followers of Francis, whom he had come upon in the environs of Assisi. In a letter he wrote in 1216, he describes a unified group of "Lesser Brothers and Lesser Sisters" living the life of the "primit, ive church of which it is written: 'The multitude of believers was of one heart and one soul (Ac 4:32).'" He further describes the women as living in "hospices," not cloisters, and as living "from the work of their hands.''l In her Testament and Form of Life, Clare herself informs us that once Francis recognized that the com-munity of women living at San Damiano was committed to the rigors of poverty, he p.rovided them with a simple forma vitae based on the practice of absolute poverty.2 Francis's form of living for Clare and her sisters and the charism which Clare felt called to live did not neces-sarily fit into the church hierarchy's vision of religious life for women. At the time, there were a number of 181 70.2 2011 182 Kruse * Apostolic Visitations divergent women's movements in Italy living outside of strict religious norms and dedicated to poverty. Cardinal Hugolino of Ostia, papal legate of Northern Italy under Honorius III, set out to bring these divergent move-ments into conformity with the traditional monastic model of religious life, a model largely based on a system of endowments and a model which Hugolino believed was most beneficial to the overall well-being not only of the women religious but also of the church. Hugolino started to bring these different religious movements under the auspices of "the religion of the Poor Ladies of the Spoleto Valley or of Tuscany" (later to be called "The Order of Saint Damian"),3 a religious community he had founded and based on the Benedictine Rule and into which he desperately wanted to incorporate Clare's community at San Damiano. Doing so would not only bring Clare's community into conformity with the hier-archy's vision of religious life for women but would also add the prestige of Clare and especially of Francis to Hugolino's religious community and would guarantee the care of his order by the friars. In an ~ttempt to bring Clare's community into his order, Hugolino first visited Clare at San Damiano during Holy Week of 1220. To join her community to Hugolino's order would mean to accept the system of endowments and ownership of property implied in such a Benedictine model of religious life. This obviously would violate what Clare understood to be her voca-tion and driving charism. Neither The Acts of the Process of Canonization of Saint Clare, The Versified Legend of the ~rgin Clare, nor The Legend of Saint Clare mentions this visit of the papal legate. The Legend of Saint Clare, however, does mention an exchange of letters between Clare and Hugolino.4 One of these letters was written Review for Religious after his 1220 visit. In this letter, Hugolino indicates that he very much misses Clare. He implores Clare's prayers for his salvation5 and says that he will visit again at the earliest opportunity.6 More important for our purposes, Hugolino twice mentions conversation with Clare: "From that very hour when the necessity of returning here separated me from your holy conversa-tion., such a bitterness of heart, such an abundance of tears, and such an immensity of sorrow have overcome me . . .-7 and ". I remain desolate by your absence from me. For that glori-ous joy, with which I discussed the Body of Christ with you while celebrating Easter with you and the other servants of Christ, has forsaken me.''8 Clare not only engaged the papal legate Cardinal Hugolino in conversation but she also deeply impressed him with the witness of her way of life to the point that he became more aware of his own sin-fulness. He states, "And although I have always known and have considered myself to be a sinner, yet after hav-ing recognized a sure sign of your merits and having observed the rigor of your life, I have learned with cer-tainty that I have been weighed down with such a bur-den of sin., that I am not worthy to be. associated with the company of ~:he elect, unless your prayers and tears obtain for me pardon for my sins.''9 During this first visitation, Clare engaged the visiting papal legate in Clare not only engaged the papal legate Cardinal Hugolino in conversation but she also deeply impressed him with the witness of her way of life. 183 70.2 2011 Kruse * Apostolic Visitations warm and personal conversation and sought to demon-strate the spiritual value of her way of life by modeling it to him in spite of his desire that she abandon some aspects of that way of life (especially a commitment to absolute poverty) in order to fit into what he saw as the form of female religious life that could best promote the aims and purposes of the Apostolic See at that time. Hugolino next visited Clare as Pope Gregory IX (he had been elected to the papacy in 1227) during Francis's canonization in 1228. An account of this visit is described in The Legend of Saint Clare, which is sup-ported by witnesses at her process of canonization: When he was [attempting to] persuade her that, because of the events of the times and the dangers of the world, she should consent to have some pos-sessions which he himself willingly offered, she resisted with a very strong spirit and would in no way acquiesce. To this the Pope replied: "If you fear for your vow, We absolve you from it." "Holy Father," she said, "I will never in any way wish to be absolved from the following of Christ.''1° In spite of the pressures put on her by the pope to adopt his own model of religious life, Clare refused to abandon the model of absolute poverty that had been entrusted to her by Francis, who had based this model on the life of Christ. In refusing to accept Gregory's offer to have an exemption from her understanding of her vow of poverty, Clare was in effect claiming that she knew more about the intentions of Francis, a close friend of Gregory's, than did the pontiff, who, in the bull Quo elongati would point to his personal friendship with Francis as a qualification for interpreting Francis's intentions. Even more important, Clare indirectly implied that she knew more about the true meaning of Christian discipleship than the pontiff did and that she Review for Religious would never abandon the model of Christ even if the pontiff would permit her to do so.~l She clearly respected Gregory's office. Yet in spite of pressures applied by a pope during a personal visit, she could not and would not abandon her charism and her vision of what it meant to be a fol-lower of Christ even at the expense of dis-pleasing and alienat-ing the pope himself. She remained firm in her convictions although she had lit-tle external support from friars or others in the hierarchy of the church.12 Bowing to Clare's resistance and perhaps sensing he was in error, Gregory, in his bull Sicut mani-festum est (1228),~3 granted Clare the privilegium pauper-tatis (privilege of poverty) that she sought. Clare's determination not to bow to the pressure to abandon her Franciscan charism is seen not only in her concern to live a life of absolute poverty but also in her commitment to have her community remain integrally tied in a special relationship to the friars themselves. The question of the relationship of Clare's commu-nity at San Damiano to the friars was addressed in the previously mentioned bull Quo elongati. Gregory wrote this bull in response to the friars' own request for an interpretation of their Rule after Francis's death. After Francis died and as the Franciscan Order grew, diverse perspectives had developed in relationship to the cor- Clare could not and would not abandon her charism and her vision of what it meant to be a follower of Christ even at the expense of displeasing and alienating the pope himself 185 70.2 2011 Kruse * Apostolic l~sitations rect interpretation of the Rule. In Ouo elongati, Gregory effectively lumped San Damiano, Clare's monastery, in with all communities of poor sisters of the order he had established, and he limited San Damiano's direct, uninhibited access to the friars.14 Clare was livid. The Legend of Saint Clare, written in response to the need for "an official hagiographical statement''15 on the life of Clare and, thus, one not likely to include contrived blatant opposition to a pope, reflects her determination: Once, when Lord Pope Gregory forbade any brother to go to the monasteries of the Ladies without per-mission, the pious mother, sorrowing that her sisters would more rarely have the food of sacred teach-ing, sighed: "Let him now take away from us all the brothers since he has taken away those who provide us with the food that is vital." At once she sent back to the minister all the brothers, not wanting to have the questors who acquired corporal bread [those that collected alms for the sisters] when they could not have the questors for spiritual bread. W-hen Pope Gregory heard this, he immediately mitigated that prohibition into the hands of the general minister.16 Clare was so perturbed that the friars commissioned and entrusted with the spiritual care of her monaster-ies could not enter them without papal permission that she effectively threatened a hunger strike until Gregory backed down from his position. Clare was willing to be stubborn and even stomp her feet a bit in her efforts to remain true to her Franciscan identity. There is also evidence of Clare's persistence in remaining true to her Franciscan vocation in her own writings. In the face of Gregory's opposition, she most explicitly expressed her desire to defend her vision of absolute poverty in her second letter (1234-1238) to Agnes of Prague, daughter of the king of Bohemia, who Review for Religious had refused marriage to Emperor Frederick II. Agnes and Clare wished to transform the monastery of St. Francis of Prague from the forma vitae of Gregory IX to the model of San Damiano (that is, the)'brma vitae of Francis), a transformation that Gregory at first prohib-ited. 17 Clare instructs Agnes to remain firm: But because one thing is necessary, I bear witness to that one thing and enc

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

Issue 33.3 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. aad 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 for 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 May 1974 Volume 33 Number 3 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, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Documents concerning Religious Paul VI Given below in chronological order are four speeches of Paul VI to various groups of religious. The English translation is that of the English language weekly edition of Osservatore romano. TALK TO THE DOMINICANS Due to an opportune initiative of your procurator general, we have the comfort and the joy of greeting you this morning, beloved Dominican supe-riors and parish priests. In the last few days you have been gathered at your second national Congress at Madonna dell'Arco near Naples, to study more deeply the subject of the parish in the spirit of the teachings of the Church, at subject that is highly relevant today, and to meet the most urgent expectations of the Christian people. We are pleased to underline, beloved sons, the special theme you have chosen for your assembly: that is, the connection of the subject treated with the characteristic aims of your great religious family, which came into being about seven and a half centuries ago, to spread and defend the truths of faith by means of the preaching of the Word of God and teaching. You wished to show, therefore, how willingly you have accepted the invitation of the Church to act in depth in this direction with the efficient instruments at your disposal, for the good of the universal Church, of which the parish is a vital sprouting, through the diocese, which is its natural matrix. This aim has guided your reflection on the structures on which every parish community must be based in order to carry out its mission of sal-vation. Foundation of Parish Renewal We wish to encourage you in your resolutions, derived from your study, 513 514 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 regarding the need of an intelligent and methodical catechetics of the faith-ful entrusted to you, which will, in its turn, be a stimulus to the consistent practice of the Christian life. You are certainly convinced that real renewal in parish society cannot take place except by means of deep Eucharistic piety and sincere charity. The foundation stone of the parish community depends precisely on this link, and on the effort to serve one's brothers, seen and recognized in the love of God. Missionary ardor lies in charity. We have had the opportunity several times, beloved sons, to emphasize the principle that the Church is mis-sionary by her nature, her Founder Himself having entrusted her with the mandate of "preaching the gospel to every creature." Like the universal Church, so the diocese and the parish are by their nature centers of evan-gelization. The missionary impulse derived essentially from the universal Church is transmitted to the diocese and from the latter it passes to the parish. From this point of view, the parochial apostolate should be addressed not only to the faithful who attend Church, but will also be directed, in holy zeal, to all the inhabitants of the territory in their concrete situations: environmental, cultural, social, political, and ideological; and it should be characterized by a universalistic approach. Example of Your Holy Founder You do not lack experience. In the course of the centuries your order has distinguished itself, and is still doing so today, not only by its work of ev.angelization directed to those afar off, but also by its missionary activity. You have in the example of your holy founder and in that of your saints--masters of thought and action, pioneers of civilization, zealous pas-tors and spiritual directors--a whole vast range of initiatives, interventions, 9rientations, on which to model your priestly ministry in order to leaven the mass of the faithful entrusted to your care, in harmony with the action of renewal and reconciliation indicated by the Holy Year, which has recently been inaugurated in diocesan communities. May our Apostolic Blessing be a token of divine assistance for all of you as well as for your confreres. TO THE TRINITARIANS We feel we now owe a special, affectionate greeting to the numerous group of superiors and religious of the Order of the Holy Trinity, gathered in Rome to celebrate the ~775th anniversary of the approval of their Rule. Beloved sons! It is always a motive of fatherly satisfaction to meet worthy, well-deserving religious; and we are always grateful to those who, like you; wish to express with their visit confirmation of the consecration Documents concerning Religious / 515 of their lives to Christ and to the Church. Heartfelt thanks for this testi-mony of filial piety. Finding ourself before you, who on this solemn occa-sion have wished to define better the ta~k of your order in the Church and in the society of today, we will say this to you: be faithful to your vocation. This faithfulness obliges you to get in touch again with the original spirit and charism of your institute. Created to redeem Christian slaves and for works of mercy, especially in favor of the poor and pilgrims, it finds in the modern world other forms of slavery for deeming charity that animated the work of your vant. Praise to you who wish to make yourselves commitments of this apostolic ideal, and to live with the Holy Trinity, which is the characteristic of your spirituality. which the message of re-holy founder; is still rele-even better fitted for the it in the intimacy of love note and the living source We hope that you will return to your fields of work in the apostolate with renewed zeal and spirit of dedication; and while we assure you of our prayers, may the blessing you are awaiting, and. which we willingly impart to you "in nomine Domini," be a token of abundant divine graces for you and for all those who are the object of your concern. TO RELIGIOUS WOMEN ON FEBRUARY 2, 1974 Today's assembly of souls vibrating with piety and love of Christ and the Blessed Virgin offers us motives of particular consolation. We wish in the first place to express our greeting to our venerated Brothers Cardinals Paolo Marella, Archpriest.of this Patriarchal Vatican Basilica, Arturo Tabera Araoz, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, and Ugo Poletti, our Vicar General for the diocese of Rome, who, with their presence, so full of significance, give us a new testimony of their pastoral sensibility and their spirit of service to the Church. We also greet and thank the members of the Chapters of the four Roman Basilicas, who, according to the ancient tradition, offer us the symbol of that faith which burns and shine's, radiating from the illustrious temples they represent, and the sign of their sincere devotion to Peter's Chair and Suc-cessor. To Serve the Church Today the joy is renewed fbr us of a spiritual meeting with the great family of the religious women of Rome on the day of the Presentation of the Lord, which has so many points of contact, so many spiritual affinities with your vocation as souls consecrated to God. For this reason we wished to cerebrate with you this feast of light and love, emphasizing the character which we already impressed upon it last year. If you occupied then a priv- 516 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 ileged place in the traditional festive meeting, this year we have dedicated it mainly and almost exclusively to you, beloved sisters. Why? But you know why, nor should we like to repeat what we had the opportunity of telling you a year ago (cf. AAS, 65, 1973, pp. 91-93).' The reason is summed up in a few words, the great, splendid, consoling words of the II Vatican Council, addressed to all religious: "By the charity to which they lead, the evangelical counsels join their followers to the Church and her mystery in a special way. Since this is so, the spiritual life of these followers should be devoted to the welfare of the whole Church" (Lumen Gentium, 44). Yes, beloved daughters in Christ: you are devoted to the wel]are o] the whole Church.t This is your definition, this your glory, this your daily sacrifice, this your goal, this your crown; nothing else, no other motive brought you to give your life to Christ Jesus, through the hands of Mary, but this--to serve, to serve souls, to serve the Church, the whole Church. Vocation of Tolal Offering Those who do not know, or who forget, this reality, may question your state, criticize it, perhaps despise it; but your vocation is here, it is entirely here, in this total offering to the Church, whether your lives are unfolded in the hard-working and crucifying secrecy of enclosure, or take place along the innumerable ways of charity, which makes you tireless and flings you into the service of all human needs. Your virginity--we are using Pope John XXIII's own words, in his address to sisters on the occasion of the closing of the Synod of Rome--your virginity "turns to the sick, the aged, the poor, orphans, widows, adolescents, children: it passes like a luminous and beneficial angel in the wards of hospitals and institutions, it bends kindly and patiently over school pupils, and over the loneliness of the suffering, wiping away tears of which the world knows nothing, kindling smiles and grateful looks. Holy virginity which finds the sure and irresistible way to hearts, to illuminate those without learn-ing, advise the doubtful, teach the ignorant, admonish sinners, console the afflicted, call back the erring, arouse enthusiasm for apostolic and missionary cooperation" (29 January 1960; cf. Discorsi, II, p. 183). We wish to propose this reality to the ecclesial community of Rome, and beyond it, to the whole Church, which must find in you sisters the living example of an existence dedicated to God without compromises and without regrets, with fervor joyfully renewed every morning. But together with this reality we wish to encourage you, who are its pro-tagonists, in order that, if ever the temptation of doubt, discouragement, weakness, imitation of the deplorable examples of others, may have 1For an English translation of the 1973 Candlemas address to sisters, see Paul VI, "Candlemas Address to Sisters," Review [or Religious, 1973, pp. 469-72. Documents concerning Religious / 517 touched you, or, God forbid, weakened your original resolution, you may be able to pit yourself continually against the great tasks you have freely chosen, and draw the necessary energy every day. Complete Availability For this reason, the liturgy of the day makes our eyes, our thoughts converge on Christ, who is the center not only of today's Gospel episode, but of the whole Gospel, nay more of the whole human and divine history. Christ Jesus, who offers Himself to the Father in the fundamental and determining acceptance of His will: His attitude is that of complete avail-ability: "In burnt offerings and sin offerings thou hast taken no pleasure. Then I said, 'Lo, I have come to do thy will, O God,' as it is written of me in the head of the book" (Ps 40:7-9; Heb 10:5-7). Christ, advancing in His Father's temple, carried in Mary's arms--welcomed by the divine love, moved by the Holy Spirit, of great and humble souls such as old Simeon and Anna the prophetess--is the model, the type, the inspirer of every consecration. He draws you powerfully and sweetly to conform to the constant oblation that your vocation requires, He sustains you, He com-forts you, He encourages you, He stimulates you, He reproves you, if necessary. And alongside the divine model of all holiness "whom God made our wisdom, our righteousness and sanctification and redemption" (1 Cor 1:30), the liturgy shows us the Virgin of the Presentation, she who, closely united with her Son~s sacrifice, becomes for all virginal souls an example of conscious and generous self-giving, close collaboration with God's plans, silent and efficacious presence alongside the Savior, for the salva-tion of the world. In the morning light of the Gospel episode, which is, as it were, the offertory of the great sacrificial and redeeming act of Jesus' life, Mary is beside her Son, made conscious of her sorrowful role by the prophecy, and already a partner in the Passion in advance. Symbolism of the Candle She calls upon all of you, therefore, beloved daughters, to adopt her interior attitude, to imitate this. complete availability, and asks you, too, never to give up, but to continue joyfully :'along the path you have taken. And so the cand'.e which you bear, with its deep and multiple symbolism, becomes the visible sign of your following Christ and Mary; it is a whole galaxy of little flames, nourished at the very source of holiness and grace, forming a festive and endless .procession in the steps of the Savior and His Mother, casting forth on the world, often greedy and selfish, the light of pure, disinterested charity, of gacrifice without any return, of faithfulness to the grave responsibilities of life with "the evangelical witness" of one's own life, straining upwards to give light and heat, like the flame of the candle. 518 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 We are near you, sisters of Rome and of the world, in this daily ef-fort of yours, for which we raise our humble prayer; we thank you for the place you hold in the Church, for the example you set, for the irradia-tion of the greatest human and Christian values; and we trust that these ideals will find you always ready and trained, always eager to do beiter, always sincere in pursuit of the true evangelical spirit, which qualifies and sustains your consecrated life. May the Apostolic Blessing be a token for you of our great, fatherly benevolence: we extend it to all your other sisters, to the persons and works to which you dedicate yourselves, in order that God's peace and joy may be in all of you. TO THE POOR CLARES With our spirit full of fatherly emotion, we now extend our greeting to the elect group of ~isters, the delegates of the Convents of Poor Clares who have come to Rome from all over the world for the revision of their constitutions. Beloved daughters in Jesus Christ, we welcome you with that affection and esteem which the great family of monastic communities, which you worthily represent, deserves. And we are glad to receive you here, so that we can point you out to the admiration and gratitude of this assembly, for the precious and hidden service you carry out in the Church, passing your lives in silence, prayer, and mortification, for love of Christ and to communicate to the world, though separated from the world, the salva-tion He brought about on the cross. Today more than ever your testimony of faithfulness to the contem-plative ideal means for the faithful the primacy of God and of spiritual life in the complex dynamism of apostolic activities; it means the recog-nition of the spiritual values of prayer, poverty, brotherly love, spirit of sacrifice, and the cross; so that, as the Ecumenical Council, very rightly affirms, you "are the glory of the Church and an overflowing fountain of heavenly grace" (Decree Per[ectae caritatis, no. 7). ff the People of God look to you with these sentiments, you on your side must endeavor to respond to your vocation more and more generously. And that you are striving to" do so is shown by the work of your Con-gress, to which you are applying yourselves in order to give your convents that impetus of renewal, in faithfulness to your genuine monastic traditions, which the Ecumenical Council has requested, in order to carry out more and more fruitfully the role to which you are called in the Church. May the Spirit of the Lord assist you, making you His to 'an ever increasing extent; may the Blessed Virgin, your ideal and model of con-secration to God and of dedication to souls, guide you; and may our Apostolic Blessing, which we willingly impart to you present here and to all your sisters scattered throughout the world, encourage you. Documents concerning Religious / 519 ASH WEDNESDAY TALK TO RELIGIOUS WOMEN We are happy to greet a large group of sisters who have assembled principally from the United States and who come from various communi-ties and represent various forms of religious life--all of whom perform their highly-valued apostolates within the wider and esteemed context of the association of all the Institutes of Women Religious of the United States. Your presence here tl~is morning evokes in us a thought which our great predecessor Plus XII often expressed; the value and importance of religious life and, in particular, the beneficial results that accrue to the whole Church in America through the persevering dedication and humble service of thousands of sisters. In this regard our advice to you today is to realize the contribution that all the sisters can and must make to the Church, to realize that this contribution depends on your being one in Christ Jesus and in the Church-- united with each other and with us. Our message is a call f::~: genuine re-newal, for Christian penance, for complete reconciliation, for the elimi-nation of all divisive faction--in a word, for perfect unity and perfect charity: ". so that the world m~ay believe" (Jn 17:21 ). And so with St. Paul we say to you: ". be united in your convic-tions and united in your love, with a common' purpose and a common mind. That is the one thing which would make me completely happy" (Phil 2:2). As our thoughts turn with paternal affection to all the sisters of the United States and throughout the world, in their efforts to live in Christ's love and to share it With all men, we cordially impart to you present here with us today our Apostolic Blessing. MARCH 21 TO CARMELITES OF INDIA It is a pleasure for us to :have this opportunity to extend a word of welcome to you, the prior general and members of the Carmelites of MaD' Im-maculate. We are aware of the admirable pastoral work carried out by your con-gregation in India: teaching at all levels, the care of the aged and the sick, the apostolate of the press, as well as running several mission dioceses. For all of this activity on behalf of the Church we thank you from our heart. We are likewise pleased to note that there is no lack of vocations to the priesthood, and we would ask. you to assure your students of our par-ticular fatherly affection. We pray that they will be granted the grace of perseverance and joy in the life of special union with Christ which they have freely embraced. To all of you indeed we give the assurance of a special place in our prayers. As we express once more our particular closeness to you in your work, we cordially impart to yourselves and to all the Carmelites of Mary Immaculate our Apostolic Blessing. Two Renewal Reports Sister M. Bernarda Schneider, A.S.C. and Sister Marie Anne Mayeski, C.S.J. Sister M. Bernarda Schneider, A.S.C., who is the author of the first report given be-low, "A Congregation Seeks Its Common God Experience," is a general assistant of her congregation and resides at Via Beata Maria de Mattias, _10; 00183 Rome, Italy. Sister Marie Anne Mayeski, C.S.J., is the author of the second report given below, "Unity through Diversity and What One Community ls Doing about It"; her address is: Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange; 480 South Batavia Street; Orange, California 92668. A CONGREGATION SEEKS ITS COMMON GOD EXPERIENCE As an effort toward a new type of spiritual leadership, the members of the general administration of the Congregation of Sisters Adorers of the Blood of Christ carried the following program to the sisters in all their provinces. Background Information The Congregation of Sistcrs Adorers of the Blood of Christ was founded in 1834 in Acuto, Italy. It is an apostolic congregation following the inspiration of Blessed Maria de Mattias, foundress, and of St. Gaspar del Bufalo, co-founder of the Adorers and founder of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood. Presently, the Congregation comprises about 3000 members in 12 provinces, five in Italy, three in the U.S.A. (Ruma, Illinois; Columbia, Pennsylvania; Wichita, Kansas), and one each in Liechtenstein, Yugo-slavia, Poland, and Amazonas-Brazil, with a delegation in. Spain, and local communities in Tanzania, Liberia, Africa, Australia, Argentina, Boliva, Guatemala, and Puerto Rico. After the general chapter of July, 1971, the newly elected general 520 Two Renewal Reports / 521 council laboriously worked through a process of self-identity as a starting point for the program of renewal which in the next two years would be shared with every sister in the congregation. Basic Premises of the Program 1. The Church at Vatican II questioned herself seriously regarding her true nature. What was her real identity? Who was she? What kind of "presence" did she have before the world of today? Did she mirror to the contemporary world an apostolic communion of faith and fraternal love and sharing centered in the person of Christ with authority under-stood as unifying service, the image of the Church as Christ founded it? Choosing as most appropriate for our times the expression "People of God" (L.G., Chapter 2), the Council fathers offered guidelines for radi-cal renewal in the form of decrees to each category of the People of God: laity, religious, priests, bishops. The image of Church as communion in Christ can come about only through the efforts at renewal of the members in all four categories. 2. Ecclesial by nature, each religious congregation must search out its own special character in order that it may make its specific contribu-tion to the total Church. 3. It is not enough for a congregation to identify its special charism, it must live it out in an "incarnational" way. The members must be in-formed about the actual human condition of today and be deeply involved in living the Christ mystery in contemporary reality, sharing the pilgrim stance of all the People of God. Objective of the Program and Means The objective of the program was to search together with the sisters for (1) congregational, (2) personal, and (3) local community identity as Adorers of the Blood of Christ here today, making real and living the experience of God of the foundress in order that present-day Adorers may have a special meaning to the People of God in. these times as Blessed Maria de Mattias had for the people of her times. For this purpose, the general team, composed of the general superior and four general assistants, traveled to all the provinces and missions, giving a series of 125 workshops. Each workshop comprised from 12-14 hours of presentation of material, reflection, group work, and prayer. The number of participants in each workshop ranged from 20 to 40, local communities being encouraged to make it together as much as possible. In the space of two years, the entire congregation has made the program with the general team. Elements of the Program The program is based on three elements which are fundamental to 522 / Review Sor Religious, Volume 33, "1974/3 all spirituality: the experience of God, the person's faith response, and reality in all its dimensions. Set up in this manner, the program was an effort toward integration, toward creating an apostolic spirituality which would gradually eliminate the dichotomy which many sisters experience because of previous formation and the calls for intense involvement in today's world. The following is an outline of the program: SPIRITUA LITY 1. EXPERIENCE OF GOD_ area of core faith-vision, charism,'~ renewal a specific aspect of the~ Christ mystery ~ 3. REALITY 2. RESPONSE IN FAITH: .PROGRAM OF LIFE~ prayer (personal and communal) ~ consecration (vows) ~ area of community adaptation ministry ~ ~ penance and conversionJ etc. PRESENCE Explanation of the Basic Elements Experience oJ God. God always takes the initiative in revealing Him-self. It is indispensable to us as a congregation to discover the nature of the initiative that God has taken in the life of the foundress because it is in this experience charism that the congregation finds its deepest identity. In knowing which aspect of the great Christ mystery was confided to the foundress, the sisters of today know who they are and what they are to be to the contemporary People of God. In the process of discernment the sisters probed the core faith experience of their foundress tow discover her specific prophetic intuition of the gospel. Response in Faith: Program oJ Li~e. To become a religious is to decide to give a response to God which includes many elements. Further- Two Renewal Reports / 523 more, to enter a specific congregation means that each response will be colored by the particular God experience of the foundress. The burning question for religious is whether the program of life (prayer, consecration, community, etc.) is actually a response to a deep, living experience of God, or whether it is a structure maintained on the basis of rules, regulations, and tradition without questioning values, priorities~, relevancy. An equally important" question for religious is whether the response to the God experience is actually incarnated in contemporary reality. The sisters were encouraged to use much personal and communal discernment in this area, putting these items on the agenda of their pro-vincial and local assemblies. ¯ Reality. In every age there is an urgency in carrying the Good News about Jesus and His saving message to men. But the message must be given in such a way that it can be understood. This implies the necessity of the sisters knowing contemporary man in his reality: physical, socio-logical, political, religious. What are the hopes and the fears, the aspira-tions and the obstacles to their attainment which men confront today? In the process of discernment, the sisl~ers were led to discover in the con-crete "signs of the times" the appeal which Christ was making. Using the many documents of the Church on social justice and the appeal of the Synod of Bishops, the sisters studied present trends in the ~,arious regions of our "global village." Presence. Presence is that which results from the dynamic interplay of the three elements of spirituality. It is the transparency (or lack of it) of a lived experience of God, expressed in a meaningful response and in-carnated in the day-by-day reality in which the sister lives. Presence is the manifestation of that which one lives deep inside oneself; it springs forth from the-interior participation in the Christ mystery. During the hours of reflection the sisters were led to ask themselves: What does the presence of. our Congregation of Adorers say to the Church? to the world? What does my presence as an individual Adorer say to my sisters in community? What does our presence as a local community of Adorers say to the people we serve in this particular place? Search for Identity on Three Levels Using the three basic elements of spirituality, the sisters searched to-gether for identity as a' congregation, as individual members of the con-gregation, and as local commianities. Congregational Identity. Through the examination of several biographies and particularly through her many letters, the faith vision of the foundress came to the fore: the centrality of the Innocent Lamb of God who carries love to its ultimate consequences in order to redeem mankind. The sisters accepted as an adequate expression for today the ASC charism expressed 524 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 in the Constitution of 1968: adoring love toward the Son of God in His mystery of redemption in blood, and redeeming love toward every human person. Personal Identity. "To search for the face of God, to know the God of her personal history and to meet Him in deep personal encounter must be the constant goal of all of us Adorers," says the Chapter Acts of 1971. It is possible to identify ourselves on so many levels (for example, in re-lation to our family, the country of our birth, profession, religious congre-gation, etc.). These are all valid identities, but they are inadequate. The deepest identity of each person is that which comes to her through her personal experience of God. It is that identity proper to her "Biblical name" . . . that word which the Lord pronounced when He called her into being: "To those who prove victorious I will give the hidden manna and a white stone, a stone with a new name written on it, known only to the man who receives it" (Rev 2: 17). The important question in the search for personal identity is not "Who am I?" but rather "Who is Christ to me?" When, through personal experi-ence, we can answer that question, we shall know who we are. A careful stud~, of the text of Matthew 16:13-20 can be very helpful in the search for identity. When Peter through living experience could say that to him Jesus was the "Christ," the Messiah, He who was to found the kingdom, at the same time Peter knew his own identity--in that kingdom he would be the rock, the foundation. Each sister must take into account her own personal reality: the place where she is with its particular social, political, economic, and religious conditions, her own physical situation, her cultural and psychological fac-tors, etc. God comes to each one in her own specific concrete reality, and it is in this reality that she makes her dynamic response to Him. Obviously, God does not give the individual sister an experience of Himself alien to the faith vision confided to the foundress. However, God is infinitely creative and original in His approach to each person; thus the variety of spiritual beauty among the members of the same congre-gation. This pluriform action of God constitutes the basis for the respect due to each sister and the liberty which is necessary in order to permit God's gifts to blossom in each one. When each member of the congregation is striving to live profoundly her unique God experience, then we can say that the congregation is being renewed. But this renewal is an ongoing process because our God is a living God. During the lifetime of a person, God never ceases to reveal Himself, and the person must never cease to respond in a meaningful way. Local Community Identity. Local communities also have an identity which comes to them through a shared experience of God. The sisters in a local community who reflect on the gospel together in the light of the reality of the people they serve will discover that Christ wants to live out Two Renewal Reports / 5:25 a certain aspect of His mystery of liberation in blood in them as a com-munity. As the members of the local community share their reflections on the Word of God, make their regular revisions of life in the light of that Word, and communicate on the level of faith, they will come to be "com-munity," "Church," a communion of faith and fraternal love and sharing, centered in the person of Christ Who Himself being sent by the Father shares His mystery and His mission with them. Concluding Observations The program takes for granted that each province is willing to forego the questionable security of uniformity in order to permit the pluriformity of God's gifts to be manifested in each sister and each local community and to be used for the People of God. It has been. an enriching experience for the general team members to discover and encourage the diversity of expressions of what it means to be an Adorer of the Blood of Christ according to the very different realities of South or Central America, Europe, Africa, Australia,: or the U.S.A. Christ's redemptive love has as many facets as there are Adorers seriously seeking to live it. It is our conviction that it is in this living out of the God experience that genuine renewal takes place in a congregation and that the Church will more fully "radiate before all men the lovable features of Jesus Christ" (Message to"Hurnanity, Fathers of Vatican II, October 20, 1962). UNITY THROUGH DIVERSITY AND WHAT ONE COMMUNITY IS DOING ABOUT IT During the summer of 1973 the Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange, a papal congregation of approximately 400 sisters, held a general chapter to elect officers, evaluate the previous four years which had been lived under the mandate of renewal, and, if possible, heal some of the wounds which had been infl!cted during that time. It was an ordinary event in that many con-gregations throughout the United States were involved in the same pro-cesses: election, evaluation,~ and healing. Yet many of those who partici-pated felt that a surprising degree of success had been achieved ,.in a struggle that many had been ready to concede. Articles have been written in which the clarion call to a radical move has been sounded: religious have been advised to recognize the deep theo-logical differences present in religious congregations, and having recog-nized them to agree (amicably?) to divide along the line of those differ-ences and go separate ways, rather like Lot and Abraham whose flocks and slaves were continually wrangling ov.er pasture space. In reaction against that advice, this article is written in the conviction that the ex-perience of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange is a demonstration that Review for Religious, F'olume 33, 1974/3 differences can be mediated and compromises made so that, in the con-fusion and difficulties that will continue to exist, a congregation united by the history that brought them to this moment, can go forward together. The Chapter of 1968 We had arrived at the present situation in much the same manner as had other congregations. In 1968, in obedience to the motu proprio of 1966, the congregation held an extraordinary chapter of affairs in which widespread changes were initiated: changes in government, in prayer style, in communal living, in dress. The mainfocus of change was in the amount of individual freedom given to the sisters in areas in which they had form~edy been under a superior's authority. There was great sincerity in the enactments of this first chapter. A year of study and prayer on the part of the total congregation as well as elected study commissions prepared the "proposals" which were the con-tent of the chapter discussions. At the same time, there was within the congregation a wide spectrum of readiness to accept the changes. Some sisters had done little reading or listening during the year of preparation; others had eagerly awaited certain changes as outlets to their own rest-lessness. Many, of course, had understood the spirit and purpose of the changes sought by Vatican II. This difference in understanding and implementing the chapter decrees was reinforced by the presence of valid, though often radical, theological differences within the thinking of the members of the community. These theological differences were no more than a microcosmic mirroring of the variety of theological opinions within the Church today; but in a religious congregation, where theology influences life styles, the tensions produced are often greater. This is especially so when the various "schools" of thought tend to look upon each other with suspicions of orthodoxy. Preparations for the 1973 Chapter Conscious of these divisions in thinking, understanding, and accept-ance, and anxious at the same time not to negate the good that had been achieved, the general council of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange moved in the autumn of 1971 to set up the preparations for the general chapter, a full 18 months before that chapter was to take place. Aware that a sensi-tive outsider is often of great benefit where emotions run high, they hired Mr. Bruce Calkins of Communication, Evaluation, Planning. Together with Mr. Calkins they set in motion the first stage of preparation which was a series of c6mmunity-wide discussions in small groups on the issues about which people were concerned. The total con.gregation met in three different places and formed group of 10 or 11; to facilitate these groups a fairly large number of sisters had been personally trained by Mr. Calkins. One essential goal in this training was to prepare the facilitators to accurately Two Renewal Reports / 527 record and report opinion from the group and from individual sisters. The subject matter of the first round of discussions was everybody's hope and fears; each sister was encouraged to speak her desires and apprehensions and every nuance of every expression was included in the written report that came out of the discussions. Later discussions were formulated from the concerns .expressed in this initial discussion. They included the prob-lem of unity and diversity, personal identification with the nature and pur-pose of' the congregation, prayer, identification with the canonical structure of the church, etc. A Communication Center had been set up to process the written ~eports produced by the small group discussions. Again trained by Mr. Calk~ins, a group of sisters collated the opinions expressed in the small groups giving attention both to opinions expressed by large numbers of sisters and the isolated insights of one or few sisters. A typical piece of reporting follows: A. DO WE WANT TO BE ONE CONGREGATION? 1. The Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange should be one Congregation with an interdependence among individuals, local com-munities, and sub-groups (312 sisters, 36 groups) Comments: In one congregation strength and security are evidenced in: --unity of spirit and goals (70 sisters, 8 groups) --mutual support (56 sisters, 6 groups) --shared talents and resources (37 sisters, 4 groups) --financial support (36 sisters, 4 groups) --support and health care for s~nior sisters (19"sisters, 2 groups) --options for personal choice in apostolic experience (8 sisters, 1 group) If we are one community, there can be continuity in our work (45 sis-ters, 5 groups) The community should continue its work within the Church as a re-ligious congregation, e.g., retain canonical status (10 sisters, 2 groups). A voluntary association of totally autonomous local communities or sub-group may be a possibility,in t~e future (3 sisters, 2 groups). Qualifications: "Interdependence" and "local autonomy" should be understood as they are spelled out in KOINONIA (51 sisters, 14 groups). The statement should be expanded: "One congregation with a spiritual and financial interdependence among members, granting to local com-munities responsible freedom to solve problems and difficulties" (10 sisters, 1 group). There should be partial autonomy as well as interdependence (5 sisters, 1 group). More sub-groups should be encouraged, a certain amount of autonomy given, and the membership be mobile and diverse (5 sisters, 1 group). 5211 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 Geographic sub-groups should be encouraged, a certain amount of autonomy given and the membership be mobile and diverse (5 sisters, 1 group). Power and authority should originate in the local community (3 sisters, 1 grouP). There should be an awareness of and sensitivity to local conditions (4 sisters, 1 group). To this tabulated report, Mr. Calkins appended an analysis of his own and frequently it was optimistic enough to keep us going through tedious days. The analysis highlighted common concerns and identified areas of consensus and disagreement. It also identified compatible differences of opinion and emphasis, and it suggested follow-up questions. Besides ac-cumulating a wealth of data on community opinion for the chapter dele-gates when at last they met, these discussions were a satisfactory forum of self-expression to many people. Most people learned how to articulate their real, often sensitive feelings without being threatened or threatening others. Every member became a part of the decision-making process. At least part of the success of the small groups lies in the very specific questions which, after the first open-ended discussion, were formulated for follow-up discussion. No one was able to evade expressing her personal convictions by a general statement or a pious utterance. For instance, one question on the nature and purpose of the congregation was: "Do you feel confident enough about what it is to be a Sister of St. Joseph of Orange to encourage quali-fied young women to. join the congregation, if you have the opportunity?" Reasons had to be given for one's answer. Another strength of these dis-cussions surely was that each sister's individual qualification or comment was included if she desired. The tabulations and analyses were sent to the congregation as soon as they were completed. Formulating Policy Statements After one year of these discussions and communications, the community elected its forty-six delegates. They quickly formed themselves into com-mittees to handle what seemed to be the critical question of the congrega-tion at this time: Nature and purpose, prayer, communal life, regional dif-ferences (we have sisters in Australia and Papua/New Guinea) and apos-tolate. The task of these committees was twofold: to formulate specific questions to be addressed to the congregation through the instrumentality of a questionnaire; more importantly, to formulate policy statements which would be operative for the congregation during the next four years. The use of the term "policy statement" was masterful. One of the crucial issues today, it seems, is when to legislate and when to motivate. During a chapter it is often necessary to do both at once for questions that are highly personal and yet of common consequence. By calling enactments, "policy Two Renewal Reports statements," something less than legislation but more than exhortation is created. Policy statements are binding, yet they are of broad scope and are implemented with discrimination in individual situations. They set clear directions without binding congregational leadership and individual sisters io detailed (and often untried) methods of implementation. With each proposed policy statement, the'committees identified those responsible for its implementation. They also attached documentation from reputable sources, e.g., conciliar and papal decrees, Scripture, earlier en-actments of the congregation, and reports of the congregation-wide dis-cussion. These policy statements, with the responsibility statements and the documentation were sent to the congregation at large; and every sister was asked to react individually to each of the policy statements. An ex-ample of a policy statement is: POLICY ST.4 TEMENT 111: IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT MEMBERS OF THE LOCAL COMMUNITY COME TOGETHER TO SEARCH FOR THE WILL OF GOD AND TO SEEK GROUP DECISIONS FOR ACTION. Implementation and Responsibility: I. The local coordinator sees that community meetings are held regularly so that the members of the group can contribute to authority at the local level and fulfill its responsibility for local community living. Each sister takes seriously her responsibility to contribute to authority at the local level by participating at these meetings. The local coordinator encourages all to share ideas and to promote and articulate consensus within the group. The local coordinator implements decisions made by the local community and helps the members of the group to implement them. DOCUMENTATION: Koinonia, pp. 11, 12, 74. Sacred Congregation for Religious, Decree, February 2, 1972. Sacred Congregation for Religious, letter on Women's Institutes, July 10, 1972. PC ET #25. Summaries of the response of the sisters to each proposed policy statement were ~ivailable just prior to the convening of the chapter. The 1973 chapter As the delegates gathered on July 9th for business sessions (a new executive council had been elected at the end of June), they had the fol-lowing data at their disposal: appropriate Church documents, policy state-ments as responded to by the congregation, results of both the community discussions and of the individual questionnaires. They also came armed with the conviction (heavily documented by the reports from the congrega- 530 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 tional discussions) that whatever the difficulties in working out a com-promise, it was better to remain united than to be divided either officially or unofficially. This conviction contained the implicit recognition that no one's theology and no group's point of view was adequate to the total reality of religious life and each had always to be complemented by another. This recognition is epitomized in the following prayer of St. Augustine which the delegates shared. Let us, you and I, lay aside all arrogance. Let neither of us pretend to have found the truth. Let us seek it as something unknown to both of us. Then we may seek it with love and sincerity, when .neither of us has the rash: ness or presumption to believe that he already possesses it. And if I am asking too much of you, allow me to listen to you at least, to talk with you as I do to beings whom, for my part, I do not pretend to understand. It is difficult to judge which of many chapter processes contributed most to its success. The physical set-up of the chapter room .played its part cer-tainly; chapter delegates were seated around tables in groups of six and two-thirds of the room was set up for observers. With the beginning of each new topic of discussion, the delegates drew cards which indicated at which table they were to sit; so the interaction of'the small groups changed constantly. All business sessions were chaired by Mr. Calkins and the direc-tive presence of a skilled, disinterested person was an obvious asset every day of the chapter. Each day began with 45 minutes of shared prayer, frequently the most peaceful and harmonious minutes of the day! No one will be able to calcu-late the effect of this prayer; it is difficult to doubt the sincerity of people when you have shared prayer with them for that length of time and con-sistently, and recognizing sincerity is the first step in working toward com-promise. All topics of discussion were handled first in small' groups at the tables with recorders giving the results at regular intervals. This meant that people were always articulating a variety of opinions, others' as well as their own; controversial opinions were less likely to be linked to personalities but were simply listed along with more .acceptable opinions, a process designed to "defuse" some of the chapter material. (Of course, individuals could and did speak for themselves; the use of recorders did not obviate individual discussion.) The chapter stayed in informal session until a consensus or near consensus was reached by the group as a whole. No final decision was made by a close vote. Probably there were occasions when some of the people representing more extreme positions gave in out of fatigue rather than conviction but, by and large, the consensus reached truly represented a position acceptable to almost everyone. Thus described, the chapter sessions sound heavy and tedious and often they were; frequently, however, they Two Renewal Reports / 531 were lightened by unintentional humor. After a particularly touchy session, the chair opened formal session with the question, "Are you ready for the emotion?" Another time a sister of rather ample size eloquently (and in-nocently) articulated her position: "I wish to stand heavily on our tradi-tion." In addition to humor, certain symbolic actions brought home to us both the significance and relative insignificance of our decision-making. All dur-ing the sessions a few members of the Congregation traveled back and forth from the Motherhouse to the San Joaquin Valley where they served the ideals of justice for the farm worker and non-violent protest by picket-ing, interpreting, and, ultimately, going to jail. This was a constant re-minder to us that whatever our internal difficulties there were larger needs to be met and we had best get about it quickly. These sisters also served to renew our optimism on days when our vision seemed limited to the picayune. Last Days of the Chapter ,. , During the last week of the chapter the delegates decided to try to dramatize their own vision of the chapter as an instrument of service to the larger community. Consequently, they bought and prepared the food for a "poor feast" which they then served to the rest of the community. The hours spent kneading and baking brea~l in the bakery, chopping the vegetables for "ratatouille" and the fruits for salad were marvelous therapy; and waiting on tables full of friends some of whom we may not have seen for some time, was a joyous experience. This "poor feast" symbolistically expressed the concern voiced during pre-chapter discussion and articulated by the chapter, namely, that we were one congregation with a diversity of opinion, life style, and theologies; that this diversity strengthened our sense of community and gave us better preparation for witness and service; and that we would continue to be one congregation fostering unity through our diversity! Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery Gregory I. Carlson, S.J. Gregory Carlson lives at Hegemann House; 2535 LeConte Avenue: Berkeley, California 94709. Spiritual direction is receiving strong encouragement today among religious communities. In fact there are those, myself included, who see it as an integral part of religious vitality. For this experience to be of genuine help to religious persons, both directors and directees must know what it calls on them to do. Otherwise spiritual direction runs the risk of becoming just another episode in a series of religious fads, perhaps meaningful to those few who have entered into and understood it, but one more disappointing and discarded panacea to those who for whatever reason have not succeeded in assimilating this experience functionally into their lives. What ! propose to do in this article therefore is to give a careful description of spiritual direction and what it involves and to suggest by reflecting on the paschal mystery what place it has in the life of an apostolic religious. I speak prin-cipally from the viewpoint of someone who has profited from excellent spiritual direction through most of fifteen years of religious life--and has learned something too from the lack of it through several important years during this time. What Direction Is Not What I have called spiritual direction is rather specific, and I would therefore like to distinguish it from three other important experiences of religious life: 1. Spiritual direction is not the normal exchange of advice and feedback among friends. Spiritual direction is more regular than these hap-hazard occurrences and sometimes involves things one would not 532 Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery / 533 want to discuss with his or her friends, as well as things to which one's friends are perhaps equally blind. 2. Spiritual direction is not problem-solving or decision-making. Both of these call for advice from the person consulted. They tend to fix on one area of a person's life and to occur at crisis periods. 3, Spiritual direction is not psychological counseling. Many of us will find it worthwhile to analyze under competent care the history and dynamics of our own feeling patterns. This counseling tends again to fix on problem areas and to seek a solution in terms of under-standing one's own history or modifying one's behavior. It can go on and does without any reference to God. While each or all of these experiences may be involved in spiritual direction at a given time, there is a core of spiritual direction that is different. What Direction Is What is spiritual direction then? It is a conversation in which, with the help of another, a person expresses his or her experience of faith and dis-cerns its character and movement. Let us look briefly at the three central elements in this description. 1. This is a conversation, not simply an account read off to someone, and each party has a distinct part to play in it. Though the purpose of this conversation concerns the growth of one of its partners, the faith, commitment, and experience of both are actively at work. 2. The first purpose" of this conversation is the expression of one's experience of faith, its clarification and objectivization. If we want to come to grips with and appropriate what is going on within us, we have to try to express it, conceptualize it even, frame it in some kind of words, even as we realize that the words will never fit the experience adequately. Put another way, spiritual direction is an opportunity we give ourselves for the precise purpose of raising more and more of our experience to a level of faith. Our purpose here is by no means to get a firm conceptual hold on or control of God, but simply to recognize in faith the extent and depth of His presence in our lives. This is not an escapist head-trip that tries to intellectualize reality, but a patient effort to recognize God in all the complexity of His presence to us, on all the levels of our being. Words are simply our normal tools for expressing this, tools that have a way of com-mitting us and challenging us to stand up to what we express with them. At its best, spiritual direction is one place where we can put aside rhetoric and admit with full honesty what we are experiencing. 3. The second purpose of this conversation is discernment upon our experience of faith. Granted the honest expression of what we are experiencing, can we see better wha~ is happening in our lives with 534 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 God, where He is leading us, what rhythms and patterns our rela-tionship shows? What sort of overall direction has our relationship been developing? Where do the moods and movements that carry me away from God arise? What kind of decision has led me to Him in the past? Here the partners in the dialogue of spiritual direction can bring to bear all the wisdom of Christian tradition concerning the discernmei~t of the spirits that work upon a person. Such are, for example, Ignatius Loyola's rules that for a person seeking God peace is the normal and basic touchstone of His lead, or that a person should learn to see the pattern of the developments in his or her life by looking back over their beginning, middle, and end, or that one's prayer should follow the line of consolation. Again, this sort of scrutiny of our continuing experience of God is not a matter of box-ing Him in, of trying to find some categories that will define for good what He is and how He works, but rather a matter of picking up some sense of the rhythm and pattern, of the dynamic of His touch upon us. What this scrutiny teaches us is, among other things, to be ready for the surprises by which the God of Christian tradition has distinguished Himself. The Director's Role As it is the role of the person seeking spiritual direction to submit his or her experience to scrutiny, to probe patiently, and to admit courageously both the ver.y good and the evil things that he or she sees, both the very surprising and~ the routine elements of his or her experiences; so it is the role of the director not to teach, not to advise, not to judge, not to direct, not to decide, not to belittle, but (1) to ask those questions that will help the directee to clarify his or her own experience and discern its meaning and (2) to suggest at times a possible interpretation for what is going on in the directee's life. It is of course one of the commonest facts of human inter-change that the overarching pattern of my experience is sometimes closed to me as I live in the midst of it. I may need someone to suggest this meaning; once it is suggested; only I am in a position to judge whether it is right or wrong. It is finally the role of the director (3) to encourage the directee. I repeat: the director does not direct. I retain the word "direction" in discussing it here simply because it is the traditional terminology for this particular area of religious life. "Counseling" comes closer than "direction" to describing this reality, but it unfortunately suggests that the relationship centers on getting advice from someone who knows my life better than I do. Any suggestion that I give to another person some of my unique re-sponsibility to understand and shape my life misrepresents real spiritual direction. Seen at one level, what we are really seeking is self-direction, but at a deeper level, even "self-direction" does not do justice to what we are Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery / 535 describing. Godloves each of us in a unique way and finds surprising ways to lead us to life and service, ways neither we nor others could have dreamed of. The point at issue then is not simply how we direct ourselves but how we facilitate God's direction of us. And this is precisely what spiritual direction tries to do: to facilitate God's own direction of us in our lives. Qualities of a Good Director To whom should one go for direction? There are advantages at times to having someone outside one's own community; one particular advantage is that with a priest director, one can relate one's direction to sacramental confession. Still, in general, it seems better to choose someone from one's own religious community and even within one's present living community if it is not too small. The reason is simPle: in normal circumstances a per-son with whom one is in frequent and general contact will know him or her better than an outsider and can therefore listen and understand more perceptively than others. What should one look for in this director? 1. Most importantly, a director should be someone you can trust as well as someone who trusts you and respects you. It should be some-one who can help to support in you a living sense that God loves you, since the whole purpose of direction is to let the love with which God loves you shine through your life and lead you to greater in-timacy with Him. 2. A director should be someone with experience, both broadly human experience and specifically religious experience, as a basis for understanding what he or she hears. 3. A director should have balance, prudence, and discretion. 4. Finally, a person should look for a director with compassion. There are such persons in religious communities right now, and there is no reason why their fellow religious should hesitate in asking them to be of service as directors. Some Suggestions Let me add four particular suggestions on how to make spiritual direction as helpful as it can be. First, e~xpect it to be difficult. Honest self-revelation to another human being should be difficult. Yet the experience of knowing this difficulty and still going ahead--and finding the understanding and trust of another--is a worthwhile experience of Christian community. Appropri-ating our own experience and sharing it with others go together, and the support and challenge we find in sharing our life with someone else is a powerful help in appropriating it for ourselves. A good way to begin a session is by describing your prayer. Spiritual direction is, of course, pointless if you do not pray, that is, if among the other forms of your prayer you do not have some time for quiet and per- 536 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 sonal listening to the Word. A second form of prayer that has special value for. spiritual direction is quiet personal prayer toward the end of the day directed to sensing the pattern of the day, to feeling how God and I have interacted during it. Many people find keeping a journal a good way to make this prayer.' The best way to become aware is to articulate, and a journal can help us not only to become aware of God's work in us at the moment but also to get some sense of the overall movement at the end of a given month or year. This movement will of course be individual: everyone's interaction with God develops in a rhythm that is his or her own. A good spiritual director has no preconceived idea of what he or she wants or expects to hear: the director is simply there to help the directee get into closer touch with the individual rhythm of his or her own life with God. After prayer, a good place to start a session is with the cutting edges of my life. Often a good immediate preparation for a session of spiritual direc-tion is a quiet period of prayer in which we simply let ourselves become aware of what we are feeling. The purpose of the prayer and the session is to see and admit where God fits into this. Am I at peace? What is bothering me? What unfinished business is lying around in the corners of my life? What problems am I facing and how do I react to them? What decisions lie before me, and how do I feel about them? There is always ample mate-rial for conversation and reflection if we let our lives, especially our emo-tional and social lives, surface in the presence of God. Finally, a good director will ask from time to time what the directee thinks of their relationship. This gives the directee a chance to say that the director is too judgmental, too restrictive of appropriate matter for con-versation, not challenging enough, not compassionate enough, not willing to share his or her own experience. A good director will open the door to this kind of feedback regularly; but even when it is not sought, a directee should feel encouraged to offer it. Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery The paschal mystery is the pattern of our lives, not just of some ideal life we should be living and not just of someone else's life. Being a Christian means living out this mystery revealed dramatically in the fate of Jesus Christ. Spiritual direction is an occasion to find, recognize, and assent to this mystery as we live it. It is a mystery: it is revealed to us by God, and we find it only in assent to Him and His word. It is good for us to put our-selves into the position of Martha and to be asked "Do you believe this?" This is, as we have seen, the first question put to us by the spiritual direction situation. Here we can attempt to articulate and express the faith we live l[Edilor's hole: For one treatment of journal keeping and the life of prayer, see Edward J. Farrell, "The Journal--A Way into Prayer," Review /or Religious, v. 30 (1971), pp. 751-6.] Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery / 537 by. But this mystery is not opaque, not superimposed on our "real" life; we believe it is the real pattern underlying the surface meaning of events, and we can progressively understand and enter into it. With Augustine and Anselm, we believe in order to understand. And all this is only an applica-tion of what we said earlier about the second purpose of spiritual direction: discernment upon our faith experience. It is good for us to have an occa-sion, a time and a place, where we can try out loud with another person to get hold of the mystery we find shaping our lives. How is Christ's paschal mystery the pattern of our lives? Let me suggest three ways as they pertain to the work of spiritual direction. Dying and Finding New Life The culminating event of Jesus' life was a matter of a seed falling into the ground and dying and giving birth to new life. In the face of the onslaught of death He trusted in His Father and found that His Father saved. In dying He found a new and fuller life given Him by His Father. Now we are dying every day. Growing up means, among other things, giving up, giving up many of the things we have loved and enjoyed, like any number ot~ immediate satisfactions and the security and dependence we knew as children. Every decision we make during our lives involves the same threat that becomes overpowering in death: we ,lose something. We suffer the loss of immediate contact with our friends, we suffer the loss by death of those we love, we suffer the pruning of one alternative to let the other grow, we move from one kind of work we enjoy to another that has greater responsibility for other people, we give up particular hopes that have proved unrealistic. We go, in the words of one of Bergman's charac-ters, step by step into the darkness, and every decision is a new step into the unknown. And as we move on into later life, the pattern is the same: loss. We lose our quickness and agility; our minds and limbs suffer an in-evitable hardening. We give up the effectiveness we once enjoyed and the communication with others that we cherished. At last we must give up all that we have had to face the darkness unarmed. Responses to Death In the face of the death that is at work in our lives right now, we can respond by turning away, forgetting it, denying it in the style contemporary American culture has developed into a high art. Or we can let it under-mine our love for and commitment to life and turn instead to subtle de-spair and cynicism at the deepest levels of ourselves. Or we can do what Jesus did: face it squarely with hope in a God that can save us and all that is beautiful and cherished. If we face it squarely, we can see in many of our little deaths that they are an entrance into new life. Giving up one alternative leads us to growth; a step into the darkness brings light into our lives and those of others. That is what Jesus experienced, and it is a 538 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 pattern o1~ our experience. It is good for us to have a chance in the spiritual direction situation to confess this honestly to ourselves and to see in the concrete details of outown experience how this mystery is at work. And this is precisely what we commit ourselves to do in spiritual direction: to attempt to confess and to understand. Let me spell this out for one critical area of our experience as religious. Many religious find after some years of religious life marked perhaps by a youthful enthusiasm and exuberance that they are faced with the in-creasing revelation of levels of themselves that are not easy to look at: they find layers of anger, fear, and hostility that they had not suspected in themselves. Even more basically, they discover gradually the depths of ¯ evil in themselves: their own resistance to God and His love becomes more and more patent. They feel a sense of shame over what they are and wonder if they can continue a life that seems to them to have become a sham. They can deny these things and turn away from them into a kind of schizophrenic religious life with God and joy and service in one part and a lot of muck in the other. Or they can settle into quiet and bitter despair over.the levels of themselves which God seems unable to reach. Without an opportunity for explicit articulation of our experience in the light of our belief, such schizophrenia and despair are indeed possible. The alternative is to face these things squarely and honestly with trust in a God that can save. We can raise even this stratum of our experience to a level of faith, admit its existence, invite God to save even this, and submit ourselves with patience and trust to the mysterious way He has chosen for saving us. In the language of Gestalt psychology, we can try in the context of spiritual direction to appropriate this part of ourselves, claim it as our own, refuse to leave it as an absurd and gnawing force in our lives, bring it to closure or completeness by seeing it as one area where God asks us, as He asked Jesus, to submit to death with trust in Him. The areas and ways in which this surfaces will be different in each of our lives, but for each of us it is here in the concrete experiences of death that the paschal mystery of Christ is at work. Finding God Looked at from another side, the paschal mystery for Jesus was His discovery of the full presence of God. The cross says that God was most present to Jesus at a time when a good Jew would have been least aware of Him, in the experience of death. The paschal mystery is the overturn-ing of the traditional Jewish view--a view we all have quite naturally-- that Yahweh is simply not involved in death. Here, where we least expect His presence, He makes His power felt with ultimacy. In His weakness Jesus realized experimentally the full power o1~ God. Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery / 539 The same mystery is at work in us. Our lives are a matter of finding God at work in more and more areas of our life. This includes finding Him where we did not suspect that He could be at work, finding Him in our own weakness and emptiness, and finding Him finally in the experience of death. Gerard Manley Hopkins catches this Christian experience in the final lines of the opening stanza of "The Wreck of the Deutschland": ¯ . . and dost thou touch me afresh? Over again I feel thy finger and find thee. In fact we religious have singled this element out to be thematic for our lives. In the midst of a world that has generally given up the search in disappointment, we proclaim boldly that we have found Him and dedicate our lives to a continual rhythm of seeking and finding Him afresh. Over again we feel His finger and find Him. By our vows we choose a kind of life that is gathered around this experience. We must be clear about this. The kind of experience out of which re-ligious dedication grows and on which it is nourished is not a matter of a simple career choice, based on certain talents and aptitudes and ex-pressed in an easily definable role; a person does not become a religious as he or she would become a teacher or a doctor. Nor is it simply a matter of willingness to work for God, hoping somehow that what we do is done for Him and serves His purposes. It is rather a matter of radical openness to and experience of Him through faith at the deepest levels of ourselves. God is not just our business or our goal. Prior to being" men and women from God and working for Him we are men and women of God, and that means people who believe they are touched by Him, in contact with Him. God is the atmosphere in which we live, a part ot~ who we are; our goal is that to encounter us is for the men and women we meet somehow to en-counter God. The life we are trying to live means that the peace, the joy, the energy, the hope that surrounds us is a living invitation to others to come like us under the influence of a loving Father and a redeeming Brother. Apostolic Religious ' A religious is a person for whom finding God is thematic, who con-tinues to reflect on his or her ongoing experience of Him. Apostolic re-ligious, one could well argue, possess the special charism both ,of being, an occasion for encounter with God for the men.and women~they meet, of being quite palpably men and women of God, and of putting their faith at the disposal of others, of articulating in humanly effective terms the presence of God in human life. Now this ability to put our faith at others' disposal obviously demands that we assimilate our experience of God at a very deep level, that we get a real feel for it. A stereotyped articulation of our faith will be as uninviting to others as it will be, eventually, cloying for us. If what we proclaim and what we live are to match each,, other, 540 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 then we need an occasion to reflect on, articulate, and understand our find-ing of God. And that is precisely what spiritual direction is. As we all know, people are drawn to our life and our belief far more by what we do than by what we say. Christianity is lived in service to other people. Still, there does come a time, frequently in our kind of life, when someone--impressed, invited, or puzzled by our lives--asks what it is all about. That is a critical moment. The answers we give this person have to square with what he or she has seen in us. To give this kind of witness to the faith we live by demands that we do ongoing reflection and discernment upon our faith experience. Putting that faith at the disposal of others is not easy, °but it is the task to which we as apostolic religious are called. If religious are called to occasion encounter with God and to put their faith at the disposal of others, then it is part of the charism of our kind of vowed life to be spiritual directors, again for want of a better name, for the community of faith. The Christian, declared or anonymous, should find in us what we have talked about finding in a spiritual director: an experienced, patient, trusting listener to and supporter of people's belieL People come to us with their own experiences of faith and insights into it, and they are seeking precisely those things spiritual direction is meant to give: an opportunity to be listened to, to get hold of something too difficult to work out within oneself alone, to be taken seriously as a believer, to be encouraged in" the difficult struggle of faith. The best way to school ourselves for this service is to submit ourselves to the process of spiritual direction. Serving Others Let us look at the paschal mystery from one other side. In his death and resurrection, Jesus climaxed the life he lived as the suffering servant not only of Yahweh but of his fellow men. Here on the cross he poured out his life literally for others: he became accessible to all men here as the revelation of God's saving work. This is the pattern of our lives as Christians: learning more and more to give our lives for others and so to be a revelation for them of God's saving work. This is a joyful and fulfilling experience, but it costs con-stantly. Every day presents a new invitation to mature and healthy gener-osity, to overcoming our selfishness and putting more and more of our-selves at the disposal of others. The concrete forms of this invitation are different in each of our lives, and they change and develop as life goes on. At one time it is a matter of choosing what concrete form of service allows us to help people most; at another time it is a question of how we can be there most for the others in our community; at still another time we will have to confront traits of ours that are hardest on other people. These are not minutiae separate from the action of God; rather they are pre- Spiritual Direction and the Paschal Mystery / 541 cisely where the mystery of Christ's dying and living for others is present now. They have therefore to be faced with all .the seriousness, imagination, and generosity we can bring to the task of pouring ourselves out for others. If prayer is a chance we give ourselves in the midst of busy lives to hear and ponder these challenges to service, spiritual direction is a further chance to admit to another person how serious the challenges are, to give shape through words to our imaginative glimpses into how we can respond, and to express out loud our commitment to respond generously. This all looks so easy and so clinical as I discuss it here. My point is that the mystery of Christ's dying and rising takes place now precisely in the give and take, the tears, the anger and frustration, the joy too of the real decisions and passions of our lives. Our calling challenges us to submit just these things to the vision of faith that stands before Jesus' Father and says "This is your work" and that learns to see in our own dying and living for others the extension of Jesus' action here and now. Letter to a Person Beginning Spiritual Direction Gerald E. Keele Father Gerald E. Keefe is spiritual director at The Saint Paul Seminary; 2260 Summit Avenue; St. Paul, Minnesota 55105. The article is a letter that Father Keefe gives to each person beginning spiritual direction with him. Dear Friend in Christ, Please accept this letter as an attempt on my part to offer an explanation of some ideals that I hold about spiritual direction. I would like to make it as personal as possible, personal insofar as I sense your presence while ~ write, personal insofar as I want to make transparent my thoughts about this sacred privilege. Trinitarian Spiritual Direction I try to be Trinitarian in offering spiritual direction. What do I mean by that? I mean that from the Church's contemplation of the Triune God certain realities emerge that are worthy of our adoration and imitation. We learn that Father, Son, Spirit are personal in their relationships; they hold each other as equals; they are distinct from one another; they are in deep, perfect union with each other; they are One. Spiritual direction strives to reproduce these divine relationships in the human, but Spirit-filled, dialogue that occurs. It is important that the communications be personal. We try to avoid generalities, abstractions, intellectualizing that render the communication impersonal and sterile. Both of us must strive to speak from our interior convictions or lack of them. We are not two computers exchanging informa-tion but two persons trying tO grow in faith and love together. Like Jesus 542 Letter to a Person Beginning Spiritual Direction / 543 in His post-resurrection appearance to the Apostles we want to exclaim, "It's really I" (Lk 24:39). For the relationship to be personal we must adore and imitate the equality that Father, Son, Spirit celebrate with each other. Both of us must strive to overcome any feelings of superiority or inferiority that would damage the Trinitarian ideal we cherish. We must strive to accept our fundamental equality with each other. Equality without Sameness ° When both of us do this we can enjoy a certain relaxation. We do not have to put on pretences or airs but simply be ourselves. We can have ex-changes that ai'e honest, humble, accepted. We are not threatened ~it all, because we see each other as equals. Our conversation at once has the en-couragement that comes from an equal. We begin to fulfill the command of Christ, "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Mt 23:39). When we avoid being'above or below one another we can enjoy what it is to cherish an-other person as you do yourself. Equality makes this possible. This equality is not sameness or blindness. This equality discovers, ap-preciates, and celebrates the distinctions that are present between us, just as Father, Son, Spirit thrill at their distinctions. The distinctions do not loom up as threats but rather as cause for rejoicing as we recognize our otherness. Our differences of age, authority, position, talents, grace are not cause for fear or separation but rather become stimulation and excite-ment to share in a complementary way our personal gifts. God's gifts are always meant to'be shared, to become mutual, to build up the Body of Christ. Gifts that are isolated quickly diminish and vanish. Gifts that are shared increase and endure. When we prayerfully strive to make our relationship reflect the personal-ness, the equality, the distinctions of Father, Son, Holy Spirit we will begin to experience some of the joy that St. Paul felt in the counseling that he offered to others. It will unite us in Christ. It will enable us to realize be-tween ourselves what St. Paul expressed unabashedly to his people in state-ment of fact. "You have a permanent place in my heart" (Phil 1:7), as well as in his request, "Keep a place for us in you~ hearts" (1 Cor 7:2). Trinitarian Dialogue: I Am Son If we have accepted the Trinity as the basis for our relationship, then we should strive to give expression to this in our dialogue. Paradoxically I will often act as Son to you. What do I mean by this? I mean that just as the Son is the reflection, the exact likeness, the glory, the splendor, the word, the obeyer of the Father, so will I strive to be like that toward you. I will encourage you to be Father by initiating whatever thoughts, con-victions you have about your life and then 1 will strive to respond toward you with the same fidelity that the Son responds to the heavenly Father. 544 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 I want to do this so well that you might exclaim in some silent, equivalent way, "This is my own dear Son, with whom I am well pleased" (Mt 17:5). I want to become word for you, not word for myself. You can see yourself in me. I have become the reflection of you by words. You have the privilege of seeing yourself mirrored in the faithful, attentive words of another person. This mirroring enables you to see your-self more objectively and clearly. The understanding, the acceptance that you receive by my response to you should bring delight even though in the process your flaws might become more apparent. The hope that I carry is that my responses will help you to "become perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). My being Son to you enables you to grow in the likeness of the Father, to strive, to become what Jesus was, "the exact likeness" (Heb 1:3), of the Father. Trinitarian Dialogue: I Am Father There are other times when I will act as Father to you. I will initiate thoughts and suggestions that seem to fit your life.In these moments I then seek your response, your sonship, your word. I want you to recapture what I have. said so that I know you understand. I will draw from experiences of my life, from my prayers, my reading, my studies to be a good father to you. I crave to see you accept what you behold in me and adapt it to yourself. I pray that the experiences of my life bear fruit in your life. When we become conscious of a Father-Son dialogue between us it is something deeper than role playing. It is our effort to respond to the Father and Son who abide within each of us. It is an effort to be caught up into the very life of God: "No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son, and those to whom the Son wants to reveal him" (Mt 11:27). The Father in me reveals the Son in you: "This is my beloved Son" (Mt 3:17). The Son in me reveals the Father in you: "No one knows the Father except the Son, and those to whom the Son wants to reveal him." What happens to me also happens to you as we are caught up in the mutuality of Father and Son. The Brooding of the Spirit So long as we are attentive to each other with the fire and breath and love and anointing of the Holy Spirit we will be drawn together in deep dialogue. The Spirit broods over us like the bright cloud of the Transfigura-tion and we witness and participate in the dialogue of Father and Son as intimately as the Apostles, though not as dramatically as they in this splen-did moment of adoration. Yet we can say to one another in an accom-modated way "In your light we see light" (Ps 36:10) and "Deep calls unto deep" (Ps 42:8). I know that both of us must grow in holiness together. Just as St. Paul was edified by the faith of his people and his people were edified by his Letter to a Person Beginning Spiritual Direction / 545 faith so also do 1 feel that our faith should be mutually revealed and shared so that both of us mature in Christ, put on the mind of Christ, grow in the stature of Christ. In spiritual direction we stand together or fall together. There is no lukewarm middle ground. Ways of Preparing Yourself There are different ways in which you might review your life in prepara-tion for our visits together. John Wright, S.J., suggests the way of faith, hope, charity. Faith would cause you to discuss the prayer that you experi-ence daily. Hope would suggest that you share your difficulties, sufferings, disappointments, and failures with your spiritual director. Love would prompt you to focus your life on community. These are just organizational suggestions as obviously the three are intimately related and overlap. Another way of organizing a review is to consider word, sacrament, community and try to perceive your living of these ideals. Still another way could be your contemplation of Father, Son, Sp!rit to see how you responded to their distinct influence in your life. Did I re-veal the Father by initiating, generating, creating, planning, providing? Did I reveal the Son by responding, obeying, articulating, reflecting, mirroring? Did 1 reveal the Spirit by animating, uniting, exciting, anointing, enlighten-ing, comforting? You may well develop some organizational procedures of your own. The main thing is that you can obtain as rounded a view as you can about yourself. This review you can make in moments of prayer or extract from your journal if you keep one. Prayer Together Finally I would like to suggest that at every spiritual-level conversa-tion we have that we pray together. We are trying to discern the mind of God. It seems proper that we approach God in prayer, seeking His blessing on our humble efforts. This should give an unction and direction to our dialogue that will make the total conversation prayerful and sanctifying. I would also like to give you assurance that I will pray for you fre-quently, and by name, to our heavenly Father. I earnestly solicit your fre-quent prayers for me. May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellow-ship of the Holy Spirit be ours together. Sincerely, Father Keefe Beginning Spiritual Direction David L. Fleming, S.J. David L. Fleming, S.J., is Co-director of the Institute of Religious Formation at the School of Divinity of St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63108. With renewed interest in the role and importance of personal spiritual direc.-_ tion for religious men and women, many questions arise about the prepara-tion for such an undertaking. Questions from those who are considering entering into a spiritual direction relationship include: (1) What should I do to get ready? (2) Will my spiritual director tell me what to do? (3) What should I expect from such a session? Preliminary Considerations Spiritual direction aims at helping a person to make a more whole-hearted response to the drawing power of God's love which continues to be active in each person's life until the day of ultimate union with the Trinity has been accomplished. This way of defining spiritual direction, like every definition, presupposes a number of attitudes upon the part of those who enter into a spiritual direction relationship. It is obvious that we should have some awareness of our own presuppositions before we begin, since what we presuppose greatly affects the kind of answer we will give to our questions. Although there are many ways of summing u~ ex-pected attitudes preliminary to direction, one helpful pattern would in-clude the four areas of: (1) a faith context, (2) God's care, (3) Incarna-tion now, and (4) continual vocation. Let us examine each of these areas. A Faith Context In Christian spiritual direction, life is viewed far more as a mystery of God's forgiving love to be lived than as a problem or a series of problems 546 Beginning Spiritual Direction / 547 of personal development to be solved. Both director and directee enter into this spiritual counseling relationship within a faith context. Faith as God's gift provides a way of knowing which on the one hand cannot ignore the human knowledges which we are capable of attaining, but on the other hand is not bound by the limitations of such knowledges. For example, there is a way in human maturity for a man to come to a certain acceptance of his limitations and even of his own evil tendencies and actions. He comes to claim them as his own and is not incapacitated by them even though he feels helpless before them. There is another whole process in faith by which man the sinner can accept the evil and powerlessness which is a real part of him. This man has a confidence, not directly in himself, but directly stemming from a faith which experiences the power of a love-acceptance by a redeeming God. Consequently, this faith context invades every avenue of our approach to life. Without it, spiritual direction becomes mere counsel-ing-- a good, but not a Christian treasure which direction is meant to be. God's Care As a Christian believer, each of us sees a world that truly is held in the hands of a provident Father. More than that, the idea that every hair on our head is numbered gives concrete expression to a God whose con-cern for each man touches every area of his personal life. When a person enters into the process of direction, he brings an attitude that at least at the level of belief, if not at the more desirable level of experience, allows him a certain "relaxedness" before God. Although spiritual direction may have to help correct some crippling notions of a man's images of God, minimally he gives a notional assent to being wrapped round by the loving care of God. Without some basis of trust, great doubt will cloud even the feasibil-ity of trying to search out God's lead for the good of one's life. Spiritual direction flows out of the presumption that God will ever remain faithful not only in His provident care for a world He has redeemed but also in His personal concern for the sinful person that I am, one who has been formed by his word to call Him "Abba." Incarnation NOW Another presupposition to the notion Of Christian spiritual direction lies in the acceptance that salvation for all men continues to be mediated through their fellowman. This presupposition is just another way of stating the one double commandment which leads to eternal life: love of God and love of neighbor. By God entering so fully into human history that we recognize Jesus Christ as true God and true man--the same who took on the human condition so completely even to death on a cross and now to an everlasting resurrection, mart has so clearly become a part of God's way of salvation that we acknowledge the mystery of people even anonymously mediating the saving presence of Christ. The explicitness of this belief is 548 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 portrayed not just in the last judgment scene of Matthew 25 or Saul's con-version in Acts 9, but also more especially in the Pauline doctrine of the Body of Christ. Priests, preachers, and confessors have always been rec-ognized by the Christian community to be particularly caught up in this mystery of God's mediating power. Spiritual direction, too, is one of these specialized instances when we enter into that mystery of God's ordinary working through our fellowman to lead us along the path of salvation. At the same time, we as Christian believers remain aware that God does touch us very directly in experiences that are penetratingly clear in their effect, while we remain confused to find words which might help us to express it or concepts which might lead us to understand. Knowing the ~3bscure power of our own religious experience, we enter into spiritual direction because we expect that it will gradually aid us in understanding, expressing, and responding to the signs of God's action. In the spiritual direction situation, we know a confidence not primarily in the theological training or counseling technique of a particular director, but rather in the faith that God ordinarily has" us work out our salvation through just such a human director with all his own personal faults and virtues. And so with both parties being caught up in this now-experience of the Incarnation, the director in prayer and in humility will try to assist in uncovering and more deftly identifying the direct and indirect movements of God in one's own personal life. Continual Vocation It has always been evident in the Jewish-Christian tradition that special callings are made to various men and women by God. A/though some con-troversies have arisen about the seriousness of the obligation to respond to such a calling, it has never been denied that such a call on God's part comes from love and can be answered on man's part only from the same free gift of love in return. Particularly as we view our lives of specialized service in the Christian community, we religious are concerned to respond ever more fully to the continual promptings of a jealous God who desires noth-ing more than the total gift of ourselves. Because we believe this is the context of faith in which we live, we enter into spiritual direction desirous to be ever more aware of this continuing call from God. We have in direc-tion the very method and means by which we can come to an understanding of how we not only have reneged on our response but also how we can give answer more full-heartedly. We become accountable in a most incar-nate way, and so we are given new eyes to see with and new hearts to make our response. These presuppositions to spiritual direction, which we have selected, already identify much of what the direction sessions will continue to be about. After all, the four areas cover attitudes which take us to the full depths and l~,eights of our Christian vocation. Perhaps, still, it would be Beginning Spiritual Direction / 549 helpful to point out a few of the other main elements around which spiritual direction is focused from its very beginnings. Approaching the First Interview Presuming that I have begun to clarify in my own mind the presupposi-tions of spiritual direction given to me by my Christian faith horizon, I shou!d focus my first concern upon the area of my prayer life. Do I pray? Dc. I attempt to pray? Do I at least say some prayers? Such questions as these may well be the subject matter of the initial session. But they can also be questions I check myself on before 1 enter into the spiritual direc-tion period. Some directors state dramatically that they do not take some-one into direction unless they give evidence that they pray. A basic condi-tion for .spiritual direction is the sincere desire to lead a life of prayer. Certainly without the fundamental context of prayer the reality of spiritual direction so fades that it quickly falls into trifling talk or gripe sessions. Prayer always remains like the water source which irrigates the entire area so that growth can take place. No matter what crises may arise in the spiritual life, prayer itself ever remains at least as an essential part of the resolution. And so spiritual direction is concerned with the prayer life of an individual from the first session till the end of one's life. Since prayer is the speaking out of my love respons.e to God, it often needs the objectification and clarification which a spiritual director can give or help me to make. As I try to tell a director about my prayer life, per-haps I will be made aware if I use words to hide behind because I am fear-ful to remain quiet in the presence of God. Or perhaps I am fooling myself by trying to hold myself in great stillness where God too is being kept without. There are many ways in which I can find myself in doubt or con-fusion about my own prayer life and its rhythms of growth. For religious, spiritual direction is meant to be of special help in this area more than in any other. In beginning spiritual direction, I also may be asked to sum up my personal history, concentrating especially upon my religious journey up to the present. Each of us does have a personal salvation history, and the director may find it very helpful if I can fill him in on God's action in my life both through human situations of fami!y and education as well as re-ligious experiences of prayer, retreats, and good works. There is no doubt that my response to God is lived out in all the areas of my life--my physical well-being, my emotional and intellectual framework, my social contacts, along with those specifically religious practices of Mass, sacraments, and prayers. Expectations To move into spiritual direction, then, is not so general that it is a matter of "finding someone to talk with." At the same time, spiritual direc- 550 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 tion, like prayer, is not some esoteric practice that has a fixed and rigid agenda of things-to-be-done. Between these two extremes, we are now try-ing to respond to a practice embedded in Christian spiritual tradition with renewed vigor and interest. Within a faith horizon, spiritual direction takes in the whole of my life so that I as a total person might grow in my loving relationship with God. Once I am in this process, I realize that some spiri-tual directors will be more helpful at a particular time in my life than others. I realize, too, that there is no one indispensable director other than God himself. I become aware that ongoing spiritual direction is of greater need in my life some times than at others. My expectations of spiritual direction are reflected in my understanding of Christian growth. No instant magic, just life-giving grace. Occasional breakthroughs that may be dramatic, but always solidifying growth that needs the patience of time. To hold myself accountable to a human director, to find objectification, clarification, and sometimes instruction--these are true and valuable expectations, and they remain expectations to be fulfilled throughout the course of my life. An Enduring Value Spiritual direction has no time limitations on it. We never totally out-grow it; and so it does not become outmoded according to the progress we have made in the spiritual life. The need is present throughout our lives because we are Christians who journey by faith. The regularity or intensity cf spiritual direction in our lives does vary, and the advantage of recog-nizing its continuing importance will allow us to seek it as a matter of course during such moments of greater need. Spiritual direction is one of the ways we most immediately touch the Incarnation in our own lifetime. For us to ever approach it lightly or to reject it as of no value is to find ourselves undermining the deepest roots of our Christian faith. Poetry Sister Mary Ellen Dougherty, S.S.N.D. Sister Mary Ellen, S.S.N.D., a faculty member of the College of Notre Dame of Maryland lives at 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. Mary Magdalene She was accustomed to their eyes, the blatant desire, the averted glance, those who wanted her without shame and those who did not want to want her. She was not a woman for nothing. This man was different. There was no activity of lust in his eyes, no cool pit of disdain, only a vast and promising sky, with stars for the homeless, and a place for the wounded to fly. She was not a woman for nothing. 551 552 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 Promise in the Dark Gently the priest leans over the bed. Pop, what would you like us to pray for? The hearts of his eyes fasten on the knowing aged stare. For God to take me home, his father says in clear diluted tone. We'll pray the third joyful mystery, then that God will take you home. And he begins. Our voices rise and fall with his like footsteps hushed by evening snow. Gravely the old man listens. May the blessing of almighty God . And the words like stars are full of promise in the dark. Finally the priest bends softly to kiss his father's head. For God to take me home, the old man says. For God to take you home, his son replies. The Roots of Christian Prayer Jes6s Solano, S.J. Jest~s Solano, S.J., is the International Director of the Apostleship of Prayer and has his office at Borgo S. Spirito, 5; 00193 Rome, Italy. His article first appeared in the 1972 Apostleship o[ Prayer Directors' Service, pages 218-32. The article is reprinted here with permission. Slight modifications have been made in the first paragraph of the article, and the subheadings throughout the article have been added by the editor of Review [or Religious. In this article we will consider the general concept of prayer and fix our attention on what can be called the "ground" of prayer or, as the title of the article expresses it, the "roots" of prayer--in other words, "why?" we pray. Accordingly, the article will first present a general conspectus of what comes under the name of "prayer" without entering into the matter of the different types of prayer and the problems connected with them. Prayer as Conscious Contact with God Under the word "prayer" we include not only petitions or entreaties made to God, but also adoration, oblation, conversion of heart, thanks-giving, love; we take into consideration both prayers which are prolonged for a lengthy period and those which take the shortest space of time; we call prayer that which is carried out in absolute solitude and that which takes place in the midst of occupations and business, private prayer but also community and liturgical prayer; finally we include prayer as an act and prayer which is more a habit. Prayer, then, in the present article signifies conscious contact with God. It is to be noted that we mean praye.r which proceeds from Christian faith. We in no way exclude the possibility that men, who may not have faith in Christ, enter into conscious contact with God. But for the present we are considering only that prayer which comes from the grace of Christ 553 554 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 in the Holy Spirit and which is performed by the faithful in the conscious-ness of Christian faith. Our Self-insufficiency as a Root of Prayer The Lord taught us to pray thus: "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil" (Mr 6:13); and He asked the Father in our behalf: "I am not asking., but that you protect them from evil" (Jn 17:15). So St. Paul on the faithfulness of God: "But the Lord keeps faith with us; he will strengthen you and keep you from all harm" (2 Th 3:3). Vigilance is closely allied with prayer according to the precept of the Lord: "Watch and pray, that you may not enter into temptation" (Mt 26: 41); "Keep watch, then, praying at all times." (Lk 21:36). We must certainly struggle against the enemy of salvation, but prayer must accompany this striving because it is quite clear that mere effort on our part is not sufficient for victory. The Council of Trent speaks in the same sense about prayer: "For God does not command the impossible, but His command is a counsel both to do what you can and to ask for what you cannot, and He helps strengthen you" (Sess. 6, cap. 11; D 1536 [804]). And for the gaining of that great gift of perseverance the Council does not neglect to recommend prayer (Sess. 6, cap. 13: can. 16; D 1541-1566 [806.826]). Vatican II asserts that the steady fulfillment of the duties of the Chris-tian vocation of marriage demands notable virtue. "For this reason . . . the couple will painstakingly cultivate and pray ]or constancy of love, largeheartedness, and the spirit of sacrifice" (GS 49). By her public prayer the Church begs aid and grace from God for religious (LG 45). In general, it is said that in all the perils and needs of the faithful they flee prayer]ully to the protection of the Blessed Virgin (LG 66). Nor would the gospel be fulfilled if one were to think of human in-sufficiency merely in the moral order. The Lord wished that "our daily bread" should also be asked for from the heavenly Father (see Mt 6:11; Lk 11:3). Many of the fathers of the first centuries certainly understood this bread as the Eucharistic bread, but there is no doubt that it must refer also to temporal bread. By prayer we are freed from both moral and material difficulties. Quest of Sanctity as a Root of Prayer Vatican 11 stresses the fact that all the faithful have been called to sanctity (see LG 5), and speaks of the relation between objective sanctity, which is also called ontological, and subjective or moral sanctity (LG 40). There is present a perfect connection between the "life" of God which is given to us in baptism and our work and' our personal cooperation. This sanctity, which is proposed to all Christians for attainment could be best described as the unfolding or development of baptismal sanctity The Roots of Christian Prayer / 555 even to the per]ection of charity and the fulfillment of the duties of their proper state (see LG 39-42). The Christian perceives in a special way his own incapacity to attain to such a lofty goal of "perfection." St. John of the Ci-oss does not hesitate to write in various passages of his admirable "dark night" that man cannot even purify himself of the imperfections which hinder a perfect union of love with God unless God Himself accomplishes this purification, with the passive submission of man (see lib.1, cap.3, n.3; c.6, n.8; c.7, n.5). St. Ignatius of Loyola affirms that all our thoughts, all our words and works are intermingled with various imperfections until God grants those holy gifts which He alone gives, and which it is not in our power to have when we wish (Ep. to Francis Borgia, 20 Sept. 1548). Apostolic Work as a Root ot Prayer The Christian also lacks the power to perfect his labor in apostolic enterprises. He who exercises an apostolate cooperates with this in view, that men may be rescued from the powers of darkness and transferred into the kingdom of Christ (see Col 1:13), and that, once justified, they may become day by day more like the image of the Lord (see Rm 8:29). But in this work God gives the "increase" (see 1 Cor 3:6). In that part also, which belongs to us, of "planting" and "watering" we are quickly made conscious of the surpassing inadequacy of human powers, when we seek to touch men truly and speak to their hearts: "[O Lord,] put persuasive words into my mouth" (Est 14:13). Further, the difficulties of apostolic labor are often so grievous that St. Paul could say: "[They] were more of a burden than we could carry, so that we despaired of coming through alive," so that we must rely not on ourselves but in God, "who has preserved us, and is preserving us, from such deadly peril; and we have learned to have confidence that he will prescrve us still. Only you, too, must help us with your prayers." (2 Cor l:8-11). Prayer and Our Existential Solitude The prayer of Christ, so pi'olonged and solitary in the ministry of His public life, remains for us wrapped in mystery. Though he became truly "altogether" like us (Heb 2: 17), we rightly perceive His "solitude" as one of His motivating forces~ because thus He would persevere in prayer "alone" with the Father. This solitude of Christ, besides, stemmed from the fact that what He uttered was not understood by men (see Lk 2:50; Mt 15:16; 16:23; Jn 20:9), and consequently He. went "uncomprehended": "No one knows the Son except the Father" (Mt 11:27). The man who has the faith of Christ sees himself particularly "alone" in respect to the world: "It is because you do not belong to the world. 556 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 that the world hates you" (Jn 15:19). Vatican II proposes the example of Christ who teaches us "that we too must shoulder that cross which the world and the flesh inflict upon those who search after peace and justice" (GS 38). But these who follow Christ "perfectly" are afflicted with a still more interior solitude, since their transcendent faithfulness is not perceived or judged aright by the majority of those who share their faith. To whom, therefore, can we go save to Him, who dwells in us (see Jn 6:56; 14:20-3; 15:4; 1 Jn 2:24; 3:24), and probes our hearts (see Rom 8:27; I Cor 4:5; Ps 138)? The distinctive solitude of the Christian derives also from the fact that it often remains uncertain how the gospel of Christ is to be applied to complex concrete circumstances of our life. This is particularly true in times of rapid and profound change such as ours. For this the "mind of Christ" is required, and this can scarcely be dis-covered save by constant and intimate contact with God, so that we can make our decisions quasi connaturally according to the mind of Christ. Prayer of Faith as Permanent Response to God Christian faith consists essentially in "receiving" Christ (see. Jn 1:2). This is true of the first and decisive act of faith but goes on to determine all Christian life, which is a permanent response to God, and for that reason is continually directed towards God, ever seeking and accepting Him. What we have noted so far sufficiently indicated this character of Chris-tian faith. Nevertheless, it is helpful to reflect upon it, since this feature constitutes the specific novelty between Christianity and all other religions, and is derived from the fact that Christianity proclaims: "God is love" (1 Jn 4:8-16). Most appropriately St. John adds: "That love resides, not in our showing any love for God, but in his showing love [or us first . . ." (I Jn 4:10). If we ought to accept God, we will try to listen to Him, so that we may know Him and be able to give a response to Him: "See where I stand at the door knocking; i] anyone listens to my voice and opens the door, I will come in to visit him, and take my supper with him, and he shall sup with me" (Rev 3:20). Prayer and Love for God If we should wish to sum up more explicitly this response of Christian life, we would say that this is the response of personal love toward God and towards Christ. God is not far from any one of us (see Acts 17:27); rather the Holy Trinity dwells in our inmost heart: "If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make our home with him" (Jn 14:23). The Roots o] Christian. Prayer / 557 These words clearly indicate a context of love from which we readily understand that the presence of God in the Christian is not merely that presence of God common to all things, but a presence of love. That simple presence of God should, therefore, be the common reason why we should keep the eyes of faith open to the reality of such an intimate presence of God and should seek conscious contact with God. But since the distinction between the divine omnipresence and the indwelling of God in the faithful is proposed precisely as supernatural friendship, it is necessary that the relationship of the Christian with God present be a relationship of friendship, which without doubt brings with it conscious and intimate con-tact. For this sense the testimony of St. Paul is of the highest value, and his formula so often repeated, "in Christ Jesus," marks the vital atmosphere of the Apostle, in which he consciously lived his ardent love for the Lord. Prayer and Personal Relations with God The personal aspect seems manifest from the very fact that there is ques-tion of a love which belongs only to a person. Nevertheless, the subject of our inquiry is so important that we ought to dwell upon it a little. The revelation of the Old Testament shows God exalted above all things but at the same time conversing with men from the very time of creation (see Gen 1:28-30; 2:16-7), and this interchange is thereafter developed particularly in the fundamental fact of the "covenant" which God made with His people. The men of the Bible, on the other hand, address God in a completely personal way, as may be seen, among many others, in-the case of Cain (Gen 4:13-4), Abraham (Gen 15:2-3; 18:23-33), Jacob (Gen 32:9-12), Moses (often, especially in Ex and Nb), Josue (Jos 7:7-9), David (2 S 7:18- 29; 22:2-51; 24:10.17), Solomon (I K 3:6-9; 8:23-53), Elias (I K 17: 20-1; 18:36-7), Ezra (Ezr 9:6-15), Nehemiah (Ne 1:5-11), Tobias (Tb 3:2-6; 13: 1-18), Sarah (Tb 3:11-23), Judith (Jdt 9:2-19; 16:1-19), Mor-decai (Est 13:9-17), Esther (Est 14:3-19), Job (Jb 42:1-6). And many other striking examples could be added from the prophets and the Psalms. The New Testament adds an absolutely personal element, in that it shows that the one true God is Father and Son and Holy Spirit, three Persons, with whom the faithful enter into personal relationships. Prayer and Personal Relations with Christ What confers on Christian prayer a particularly personal character is faith in God who became visible and our brother in Christ Jesus. When there is talk of God as such, our reaction is like that of Philip, when he heard the Lord speak of the Father: "Lord, let us see the Father; that is all we ask" (Jn 14:8). We would like to see God. But if God "dwells in unapproachable light, and no man has seen or ever can see him" (1 Tm 558 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 6:16), it still remains true that whoever sees Christ sees also the invisible Father (Jn 14:9). If we as men are to develop personal relations of love we must draw near to Him who is truly infinite God but at the same time was fashioned to the likeness of man, and presented Himself in human form (Ph 2:7). Hence it is also true that devotion to the Heart of Christ may have as a special result a more intimate love for Christ; for there is no more effica-cious way for men either to win love or to foster their own feelings of love than that the hidden personality of another be revealed in its more intimate human aspects. Prayer and Christ in Our Brothers Historical development, under God's direction, has led us to this point, that we acknowledge more and more the personal dignity of all men, and feel ourselves bound to them in bonds of fraternal love. We do not love man as a means, but as a first end, by which we may finally reach the supreme end, surpassing all human things. So Paul VI in the last homily of the session of Vatican Council II, 7 December 1965 (AAS 58 [1966] 59). Christian faith teaches us how the dignity of man rests on his distinctive excellence as the "image" of God, and how it has been raised in us to sub-lime dignity, when by His incarnation the Son of God united Himself in some fashion with every mart (see G$ 12-7; 21-22.34). The faithful man, therefore, who wishes to attain to the ultimate founda-tion of human dignity, discovers Christ, who so loves man, that whatever we do to our brothers He considers as done to Himself (Mt 25:34-46; 1 Cor 8: 12). Brotherly love leads us to the person of Christ Himself who is the center of all religious life on earth. " Thanksgiving, Benediction and Adoration The spirituality of the Old Testament was signalized by thanksgiving and benediction towards God who had performed and continued to perform "marvelous deeds" in favor of the chosen people. The Christian has received such great and such marvelous gifts from God that he could not understand those gifts unless he had also received from God the Holy Spirit to make him understand them (see 1 Cor 2: 12). The Eucharist or thanksgiving rightly constitutes in the Church the cen-ter and the full meaning of the liturgy which in turn is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed (SC 10). A feeling of adoration rises at the same time before Him "who can do inl~nitely more than we can ask or imagine" (Ep 3:20). The words of the Apostle naturally come to mind, which serve to manifest the intimate feelings of our minds also: "How rich are the depths of God--how deep his wisdom and knowledge ~--and how impossible to penetrate his motives or The Roots of Christian Prayer / 559 understand his methods! To him be glory for ever! Amen" (Rm 11:33-6). Vatican Council II lauds in the life of the faithful that "Spirit of genuine adoration" (PO 18; see SC 5-8; LG 28.41.51 ). Repenlance for Sins The Christian knows well by faith how sin is an offense against his brothers and the Church but e.specially against God, and how from this last fact it assumes such gravity, because it is washed away only by the blood of the Lamb (Rev 1:5; 5:9). When man acknowledges that he is a sinner and confesses to himself his own wretched state, what else can he experience save an urgent impulse of returning to the Father who is described by the Lord as running to meet the prodigal son, falling upon his neck and kissing him (Lk 15:20)? One of the deepest roots from which the need of conscious contact with God arises is the heavy burden of sin from which the faithful man wishes to be freed through the grace of Christ while at the same time he wishes to make reparation with Christ for sin itself. But if this is particularly true of more grievous sins, still this is the ha-bitual condition of the faithful, because "We are betrayed, all of us, into many faults" (Jm 3:2). Indeed the Council of Trent speaks of "everyday" sins, which are also called venial (Sess.6 cap.l l: D 1537 [804]). For that reason that phrase of the just is both humble and true: "Forgive us our trespasses" (Mt 6: 12). The Oblation of Life Vatican II, which lays such stress on the personal dignity of man, pre-sents Christian life fundamentally as a participation in the priesthood of Christ, and as it were sums it up and makes it culminate in that "spiritual worship" which is described thus: "For all their [i.e., of the laity] works, prayers and apostolic endeavors, their ordinary married and family life, their daily labor, their mental and physical relaxation, if carried out in the Spirit, and even the hardships of life, if patiently borne--all of these become spiri-tual sacrifices., which, during the celebration of the Eucharist, are most lovingly offered to the Father along with the Lord's Body" (LG 34). The value of all human activity in itself, as cooperation with God, is greatly extolled by the Council (see GS 34-6.38), but at the same time mention is made of the personal acts of men by which that activity is offered to God; for what dignifies the human person is precisely that it is conscious of what it does. in Fraternal Union Nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in the hearts of the t~ol-lowers of Christ, for theirs is a community composed of men who are united in Christ, and they love all men as brothers. 560 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 The reasons, therefore, which move every man towards God are multi-plied by the fact that every man knows that he is intimately bound with the rest of men, especially with those of one family in the faith (Ga 6: 10), who have experiences like himself. The impetus to having that conscious contact with God is rendered tar more intense by the bond of brotherhood by which we are invited by the Apostle to bear one another's burdens (Ga 6:2), and not only burdens but also joys (Rm 12:15); "If one part is hurt, all parts are hurt with it. If one part is given special honor, all parts enjoy it" (1 Cor 12:26). This solidarity, which can be rendered so effective and rich through the social communications media today, comes to share not only individual but also social needs and joys. From still another source this consciousness of union with the rest of men impels us to prayer. This consciousness, which could be called ana-logically "communitarian," leads likewise to a communitarian expression be-fore God; hence arises the necessity of praying in copnmon, and especially in strictly liturgical prayer, in which full public worship of God is performed by the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, that is, by the Head and its members (SC 7). Hence it is quite clear what a central place the Eucharist occupies in Christian life, the perpetuation of the sacrifice of Christ, offered in behalf of all men to the Father, the sacrifice of the Church itself, the Paschal ban-quet, the efficacious sign of unity. A Sign in a Secularized World The words of Jesus as He was on the point of ascending into heaven: "And you will be my witnesses" (Acts 1:8) should be considered today particularly as the special motto for Christian life and activity. Vatican lI has many references to such "testimony." Far more than words about God, humble prayer made to Him, without ostentation and with fervent faith, often announces God. For the social nature of man is such that he is considerably influenced by the behavior of others. The Lord has said: "And your light must shine so brightly before men that they can see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven" (Mr 5:16). Prayer is a "direct" or "immediate" sign concerning God. For many good works can be done even by those who do not believe in God, and for that reason the testimony of works announces God less directly. But prayer lacks all meaning if it does not refer to God. Today, therefore, individuals as well as communities feel a new urgency to pray, that they may become a sign of God where it is the fashion to consider a downright "absence of God" as the current and universal "atti-tude of mind" and "atmosphere of society." The Roots o[ Christian Prayer / 561 The Example and Precept of Christ We pass over that conscious and unceasing union of Christ with the Father which is manifested in His explicit statements (see Jn 5: 19-20.30; 6:37-8.46.57; 7:29; 8:28-9; 10:15.29.38; 12:50; 14:10-1.20; 17:8-10), and which is crystal clear from His manner of speaking and acting. The Gospels show Christ speaking with the Father (see Mt 11:25-6; 14: 19; 15:36; 36:39-42.44; 27.46; Lk 23:34.46; Jn 11:41-2; 12:27-8; 17:1- 26); and they record His prayer--even long and very protracted--to the Father (Mk 1:35; 6:46; Lk 3:21; 6: 12; 9: 18.28-9; 11:1; 22:41). Once when Christ was praying, it happened that one of His disciples said to Him: "Lord, teach us to pray. ," and the Lord did so at once: "Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy." (Lk 11:1-2). The Lord Himself explained how we should pray (see Mt 6:5-9), and said expressly: "Ask, and it will be given to you. " (Mt 7:7-11; see Mk 11:24), and: "Whatever request you make of the Father in my name, I will grant. " (Jn 14:13-4; see 15:7.16; 16:23-4.26). Regarding perseverance in prayer, the Evangelist makes clear the mind of the Lord: "Then he told them a parable about the need to pray con-tinually and never lose heart" (Lk 18:1; see 21:36). It is not our intention now to run through what is said about prayer in the New Testament. It is enough to listen to St. Paul writing on the need for constant prayer: ". use every kind of prayer and supplication, pray at all times in the spirit; keep awake to that end with all perseverance; offer your supplications for all the saints, and for me." (Ep 6:18-9). And more briefly: "Never cease praying" (1 Th 5:17; see 1 Tm 5:5). "Giv-ing thanks always and everywhere." (Ep 5:20). The Spirit of Jesus Prays in Us and for Us The Christian is motivated afresh to prayer from the fact that the Spirit of Jesus was sent by the Father into our hearts, crying out in us; Abba, Father (Ga 4:6; Rm 8: 15). The Spirit too "cemes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words." (Rm 8:26-7). This function of the Spirit corresponds to that "intercession" in our be-half which the risen Christ Jesus exercises at the right hand of God, "since he is living for ever to make intercession for us" (Heb 7:25; see Rm 8:34; 1 Jn 2:1). The Church in Heaven Prays Continually The Church of Christ will attain her full perfection only in the glory of heaven. The pilgrim Church still on earth puts in effect its union with the 56:2 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/3 Church in heaven, when with common rejoicing we celebrate together the praise of the divine Majesty (LG 48-50). This union with our brothers, who with the angels in the glory of heaven praise and adore God, is an efficacious reason for the adoration paid by us as wayfarers, which is especially the case, when we celebrate the Eucharistic sacrifice (LG 50). There is an additional reason, namely, we ought to call our brothers those who pray for us. For those in heaven "having been received into their heavenly home and being present to the Lord (see 2 Cor 5:8), through Him and with Him and in Him do not cease to intercede with the Father for us." (LG 49). In this respect the Blessed Virgin Mary holds a completely singular place, for "she is invoked by the Church under the titles of Advocate, Auxil-iatrix, Adjutrix, and Mediatrix" (LG 62). The entire body of the faithful should pour forth persevering prayer to her, that "in heaven., she may in-tercede with her Son. " (LG 69). Consciousness of God and Christ in the World and in Us At the beginning we accepted prayer as conscious contact with God. After we considered the Christian roots of this contact with God, it must rather be said that prayer is nothing else than being conscious of God as an absolute reality in the world and in ourselves. So far is prayer from being something forced or artificial that in reality he who has "the eyes of his mind enlightened" by baptism will be brought to see the light of Christ not only in himself and in his brothers but also in all created things (see Col 1:16-20). It would be. sad if the Master had to repeat even now: "Though they have eyes, they cannot see, and though they have ears, they cannot hear or understand" (Mt 13: 13). God and Christ are the foundation of our life, they invite us to personal love, to them our whole existence is directed, union with our brothers in manifol

Issue 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. 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 R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; 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; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + 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 Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~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; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "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." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

Issue 29.3 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint louis, Missouri 63~ o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgto6. + + +. 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 ~) 1970 by at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U,S.A. Second cla~ ~stage paid at ~ltimo~, Mawland and at additional mailing offices. S~gle capita: $1.~. Su~cfiption U,S.A. and Canada: $5.~ a year, $9.~ for two yea~; oth~ coun~: $5,~ a year, $10.~ for two yea~. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVtEW FOR RI:LIGIOL'S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent R.EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom* paaied by a remittance, should be sent to Fan R~m~m.s; P. O. ~x 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busin~ correspondence, and orders not accompanid by RELIGIOUS; 4~8 East Preston Street; Balfimo~, Ma~land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and ~oks for review should be Building; 539 North Grand ~ulevard; Saint Louis, Mi~ouri 63103. Qu~tions for answering should be sent to the addr¢~ of the Qu~fions and ~swe~ ~itor. MAY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 3 HERBERT FRANCIS SMITH, S.J. A Method for Eliminatin Method in Prayer Mental prayer is, .or should be, one of the most per-sonal of all activities. It is an interpersonal event in-volving mutual love and self-communication, and noth-ing is more personal than loving. -Still, beginners in mental prayer usually need helpful hints drawn from-the lives of the saints and others pro-ficient in prayer. These helpful hints come down, in practice, to a method of prayer. Here is a genuine dilemma. A method is an invasion of prayer; a lack of method means inability to pray. How do we solve the dilemma? By giving, beginners a method o[ prayer together with insistence that they jettison the method as soon as they can proceed without it. Among another class of meditators an even more serious dilemma arises. These are the people who have made progress in prayer and withdrawn from method for a while, only to find now that their spontaneous prayer has grown sterile. They seem to need method once again, only now the happy remembrances of per-sonalized prayer induces such a revulsion for method that they are tempted simply to drift rather than submit to codified guidelines anymore. It is above all to the people in the second dilemma that I propose a method for eliminating method in prayer. What these people really need is a method of preparing themselves for prayer. They need a method outside oI prayer Ior eliminating method in prayer. This method for eliminating method is, therefore, not for beginners. It presupposes one experienced in prayer. The method for eliminating method contains, 4- 4- 4- Herbert F. Smith, $.J., r~ides at Joseph s College in Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19131. VOLUME 29, ].970 345 4- ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS incidentally and subordinately, a method to be used in prayer in emergencies. This contingency use will be ex-plained later. It is my con~,ictioh that virtually all who .pray men-tally, need some method of preparing for prayer if they. want optimal prayer and progress in prayer. For this reason I recbmmend the method of eliminating method even to those who are not conscious of either of the ~t~lemmas presented above. The preparation for prayer to be proposed here.can be used as a method ~or elimi-nating method above all by those who have reached the prayer of faith or even gone byond it.1 As a preparation for prayer which can be taken into prayer, what I am going to say here will be as salutary for beginners in prayer as for anyone. For clarity's sake, I will divide this article into three parts: the preparation for prayer; the prayer itself; and the post-prayer activity. Preparation [or Prayer The'best time to make preparation for the next day's mental prayer is in ttie evening before retiring. This is true even if the mental prayer is not to' take place in the morning. The reason for this insistence on the night l~reparation is the nature of the human psyche. Human "thought needs an incubation period in which to germi-nate and gestate. We are inclined" to theidea that all of our thinking is done. consciously; but the fact is, as Freud noted, that conscious psychic activi~ is only the latest arrival 'on the scene of psychic life. The soul never sleeps, and the night can be used to, good purpose if one collects himself to God before he retires. God "gives .to His beloved in sleep" (Ps 127:2). Evening recollection is important even in the shape it gives our dreams. Fur-thermore, preparation for prayer gives our thoughts a definite focus that ~eeds both our conscious aiad sub-liminal psychic processes dui:ing the day. Many great breakthroughs in human .thought have flashed into consciousness at moments when the subject of the in-sight was ~ving all his conscious attention to some other affair. This is proof enough that the inner life of man goes about the concerns of his heart even when he is least aware of it. These gifts from the inner life, how-ever, are not altogether gratuitous. We must plant our questions and our hopes consciously if we want our sub-conscious to give the increase. We do just tha~ by making evening preparation for" the next day's mental prayer. Once we become proficient at ma~ng this preparation for mental prayer, it need take no more than three or ~. ,1 To review the stages of prayer, see a book like Dom Godefroid Belorgey's The Practice of Mental Prayer. four minutes. Initially, tho~gh, ten or fifteen minutes are required. An ideal way to begin tlte preparation is to read a passage from the Gospels; il only for a minute or two. Then lay the Gospels aside and ask oneself the critical question: What do I want to meditate about? At stake here is the insistent fact thatI prayer ought to begin with oneself. A brief reading from the Gospels can establish the climate of prayer, but ~nly the person himself can specify the optimal start"ing point. To automatically meditate on the passage jus~t read can be a fatal error for the next day's meditation. Of course, if a person yearns to take up the Gospels and make them the sub-ject of his meditation, he shbuld do it, but because it is his desire, that is, because i~a reality he is starting with his desire, that is, himself. In prayer, I must begin with myself. I am the only apt launching platform for my prayer. The reason is that prayer, z's has already been said, is one of the most per-sonal of all activities. To ~start with something other than self is to make of medi'tation a study rather than a prayer. No one who wrote a book of meditation points months ago or years ago can tell me here and now what I want to meditate about. Here and now the points probably would not be apt for the authorl Those who use point books ought to us them as I suggest they use the Gospels. Read a set of points, lay the book aside, and ask: Now what do I want to meditate about? If the answer is: The points I hav~ ~ust read, do not use them ¯ exactly as they are, but personahze them according to the method I will introduce shortly. If it can be said as a general truth that failure to ad-dress God in prayer signals failure to love Him, it can also be said that failure to pray personally enough is failure to love rxghtly. Accordingly, we must discover apt and personal prayer eacliI single day. Apt and personal prayer can only start with myself, as I am here and now, thins day, this evening, with its whole train of circumstance.s, concerns, and desires. If simply ignore the whole existential situation, and let a book impose a prayer subject upon me according to such a random determinantt as the page I happen to be on, my prayer cannot possibly emanate from .that per-sonal psychic center where my in-depth living is going on. The result is that neithe~r my heart nor my attention will be captured by my pr~ayer. I will remain divided between my concerns and my prayer. Approaching the same point from another avenue, we can say that there is no really deep prayer without rec-ollecuon, and there xs no recollectxon wxthout presence to the self. I must be collect~d to myself and my deepest ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 1970 34? + ÷ H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 concerns before I can communicate myself to God or to any other. Only if a man enters those inner depths of the self where what he really is, unknown to others and often even to himself, is operative, can he enter into profound relationship with He-who-is. Profound rela-tionships depend on self-communication. The man who does not possess himself cannot communicate himself. We have all had dinner with someone so distracted by every trivial occurrence in the room that he was no com-pamon at all. His hollow presence was an insult. The Lord Himself likens prayer to an intimate evening meal together: "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" (Rev 3:20). I must, then, choose my own topic and make my own points out of my own reality to release my own love. That is, I must do this unless lack of prayer experience, exhaustion, or utter dryness compels me to go for help to another. When that happens I must return as soon as possible to my own initiative. My own points may not sound as sublime as the ones in the book. They may not be as sublime, but they may be much more power-ful in moving my emotions, my insights, my convictions, and my actions. A man must bring his current hopes, expectations, frustrations, concerns, and desires into his preparation. Please note: I am not saying: "Make your problems your prayer; bring your problems into your prayer." Such ad-vice would in no way constitute a method for eliminat-ing method in prayer. I am saying: do bring your prob- .lems into your preparation for prayer so that you will not have to drag them into your prayer. In your prep-aration begin with your current concerns; and within the few minutes it takes to prepare points, you will often see that they are really trivial matters yapping at your heels and demanding of you an outsize amount of concern and worry. By giving them your sharp attention for a moment, you can "spank them and put them to bed," and then go far beyond them to give your freed attention to the realest, deepest concerns of your inner self. Only in this way are you likely to have the undi-vided attention absolutely necessary to pursue your real desire, which, in advanced prayer, is to find your Be-loved. There are times when a person's preparation will be-gin with a current problem and end with a current problem. Finel If that is as far as he can get, he has dis-covered that the concern is grave enough to require his prayer time. He can now make his concern his prayer instead of letting it be a distraction--which it certainly would have been if even his full attention cannot put it to rest. I believe many of our worries and concerns continue to plague us only because we never dearly and definitively bring them to our own attention, resolve to do what we can about them, and then commit them to God. We neither focus our minds on the problems nor free ourselves of the problems, and so they continue to wear away both us and our prayer. This approach will gradually eliminate our parasitic worries and cause our other concerns to fall into per-spective and subside. When the surface calms, we will begin to be able to look into our depths and to see clearly once again our realest longings and desires and concerns. Then and only then can we make them the part of our prayer and our lives that they deserve to be. We have triumphed over the distractions, decoys, and red herrings. We are on the way to finding our true selves. It is difficult for a man to find himself, especially in the beginning. It takes courage to seek out what we are. It takes industry to reject the laziness of rote. It takes energy to think and probe. None of us want to use method, but some are really too lazy or too insecure to do anything else. Yet it is only by entering deeply, per-sonally, subjectively into prayer, and engaging in a genuine personal relationship with Jesus that we can avoid reducing prayer to a mere surface phenomenon incapable of producing fire in mind and heart, and so incapable of catalyzing that inner renewal of mind and heart which the Gospels call raetanoia. Let me quote what the great psychiatrist Karl Jung has to say about the failure to adopt an in-depth approach to Christian-ity: The demand made by lmitatio Christi, i.e., to follow the ideal and seek to become like it, should have the resuIt of developing and exalting the inner man. In actual fact, however, the ideal has been turned by superficial and mechanical-minded believers into an object of worship external to them, an out-ward show which, precisely because of the veneration accorded it, cannot reach down into the depths of the psyche and trans-form it into a wholeness harmonising with that ideal. Accord-ingly the .divine mediator stands outside as an image, while man remains fragmentary and untouched in the deepest part of him. Christ can indeed be imitated to the point of stigmati-zation without the imitator's even remotely approaching the ideal or heeding its meaning; the point here is not a mere imitation that leaves a man unchanged and makes him into an artifact--it is rather a matter of realizing the ideal on one's own account (Deo concedente) in the sphere of one's individual life? The cowards who fear entering into themselves or into ~C. G. Jung, Psychological Reflections, ed. by Jolande Jacobi (New York: 1961), p. 279. 4- Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 349 4. 4. 4. H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 Christ will never make real progress in prayer or salva-tion: "But the legacy for cowards., is the second death in the lake of sulphur" (Rev 21:8). It is much easier to fall into some one else's thought pattern than to plough my own way into the future through the use of my own personality, my own initia-tive, my own efforts to think. It is much easier to use someone else's points for meditation than to generate my own. The sad thing is that unless I choose my own sub-ject for meditation and formulate my own points, I will journey in some one else's direction, not my own. I will enter into his thoughts, not mine. I will enter into his self-discovery, and not necessarily discover myself. When we want objective truth, we must go the Church and to all wise men. But when it is a matter of legitimate per-sonal concerns and paths to happiness, there is no sub-stitute for one's own inner voice. The Book of Sirach has some telling words on the point: Finally, stick to the advice your own hear~gives you, no one can be truer to you than that; since a man's own soul often forewarns him better than seven watckmen perched on a watchtower. And besides all this beg the Most High to guide your steps in the truth (37:13, 17, 14, 18). Unlike extrinsic assistance, self-made points hold real promise of self-transformation. The man who makes his own points is most likely to find the way. down into his inner depths and unleash the white hot magma of love and desire that will then break forth into the conscious world of affection and action for Christ. Each of us is best able himself to find and tap his own potential en-ergies. The thoughts that go into making points constitute not only a discovery but a personal experience, and there is no substitute for personal experience. I must begin with what are really my questions and my yearn-ings if the answers experienced are to move me deeply enough to change me into the likeness of Christ. No one else can experience for me, and no one can fully com-municate to me his experience. Let Karl Jung address himself to this felt need for one's own experience of profound realities: The best cannot be told., and the second best does not strike home. One must be able to let things happen. I have learned from the East what is ,,meant by the phrase Wu wei: namely, "not doing, letting be,' which is quite different from doing nothing. Some Occidentals, also, have known what this not-doing means; for instance, Meister Eckhart, who speaks of sich lassen, "to let oneself be." The region of darkness into which one falls is not empty; it is the "lavishing mother': of Lao-tzu, the "images" and the "seed." When the surface has been cleared, things can grow out of the depths. People always suppose they have lost their way when they come up against the depths of experience. But if they do not know how to go on, the only answer, the only advice, that makes any sense is "Wait for what the unconscious has to say about the situation." A way is only the way when one finds it and follows it oneself. There is no general prescription for "how one should do it." 8 There is still another compelling reason for each of us to make his own points. Unless we do we not only may fail to open a fissure through which the flaming energies of our inner life can emerge to become the vital force of our prayer, but we also refuse to open our inner life deliberately and consciously to God, and to ourselves in His presence, so that we can deal with the contingencies which this self-knowledge will certainly give rise to and so that we. can expose the paleness and sickness we will find there to His healing light and care. We are afraid and ashamed to expose burselves even to God, though He alone can heal us. We are also afraid to discover God in our own depths, for fear of the claims He will make on us and the changes He will demand. Jung has clearly discerned the widespread fear of these inner realities. He has found it in high places where it ought not exist: If "the theologian really believes in the almighty power of God on the one hand and in the validity of dogma on the other, why then does he not trust God to speak in the soul? Why this fear of psychology? Or is, in complete contradiction to dogma, the soul itself a hell from which only demons gibber? Even if this were really so it would not be any the less con-vincing; for as we all know, the horrified perception of the reality of evil has led to at least as many conversions as the ex-perience of good.' How can we make any progress in prayer unless we expose Our inner life naked to both God and ourselves? How can we be fully human unless we admit to our-selves that the furnace of our psychic life is full of the raw energies that can be fashioned into" every human desire and every exalted and perverted action that has ever come out of a human being? How can w~ be-fully human without knowing what we can become, or with-out asking God to help us avoid what we might become and to become what we ought? Until we know ourselves rather fully, how can we be deep, or fully unified, or recollected, or ourselves, or facing reality, or communi-cating ourselves whole and entire to God and to man? It is clear to a student of comparative religions like Professor Mircea Eliade that man both loves God and fears Him. Man wants to run to God and run away from Him. Man's psychic life is an amorphous thing. Subcon-scious currents run in contrary directions. A man can both love God and hate Him, cherish Him and resent 8 Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 28~. ' Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 522. Method ~ Pr~r VOLUME 2% 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Him. Leonard Bernstein's symphony Kaddish vividly portrays this malestrom of emotions which we hide in the subconscious because we think it would be blasphemous to let this raw magma break through and rush up into the open daylight of consciousness. Yet where else can it be tamed and channeled? Where else but in daylight and the open air of exposure to God's grace can it cool and harden and thereafter remain, like the granite and the basalt of the earth, as the memory of the ancient volcano of our revolt, and of God's understanding for-giveness and loving conquest over the self-destructive contradictions rending our own inner selves? There are nuns who need a psychiatrist to tell them they would like to have children; there are nuns and priests who leave the religious life when they discover they have desires for marriage. These people have lived a life divorced from their own souls. Every healthy nun knows she would like a husband and children, and every normal priest knows he would like to marry. That is, they know they share with every human nature these intense longings and powerful drives. No priest or nun is called to suppress these longings by trying to pretend they do not exist. They are rather called to control these drives and consciously forego the joy of their fulfillment for the sake of pursuing their higher, virginal love and service of Christ and the Church.~ The practice of daily communing with our own deep-est selves to make our own points for meditation will help us to keep posted on all these powerful and dan-gerous currents within us. Suppression of awareness permits dangerous psychic pressures to mount, but these vents into consciousness will have the opposite effect. The foul gases of cold or hateful or resentful feelings toward God, can escape, giving us opportunity to feel ashamed, and apologize, and be cleansed and healed. Experienced meditators should be able to make their own points without difficulty, after practicing for two or three weeks. Once they have discovered what it can do for them, nothing will prevent them from continuing except neglect or laziness. These confident statements presuppose that the persons addressed are doing daily spiritual reading, especially of the Scriptures. They pre-suppose a broad knowledge of Scripture and the memory of hundreds of favorite passages which come to mind spontaneously when they are germane to the thoughts of the meditation. I do not believe those who lack a broad knowledge of Scripture can use this method. Healthy Christian prayer hardly seems possible without the knowledge of Scripture wherein God teaches us to pray. Only two people know what I ought to pray about here and now: God and myself. In fact, I reduce that to one. God knows, and I have to find out. That is what I ought to do each night. That is the project of making points. By starting with myself I am most likely to be able to find out. It is also there, in my deepest recesses, that ! am most likely to find God. And only if I find Him will I be truly at prayer, which is not thinking, but communication and communion. Prayer is a work of two. We come now to consider the actual making of the points. As I set about making points, I should be con-sciously guided by two master facts. The first is the stage of prayer I have reached, and the second is my frame of ~nind at the moment. Often these two concerns are in conflict, and one of the purposes the points serve is to resolve this conflict. Master fact one. In slightly advanced states of prayer the meditator is often ruled by the desire to find God in prayer. He no longer wants to reflect on spiritual truths or current events in his life. He wants God's company. Furthermore, he is plagued by an inability to meditate any longer. The reasons for this are taken up in treatises on the stages of prayer.5 Master fact two. The meditator's frame of mind is, for instance, troubled by an event of the day and he wants to think about it. These two desires are in conflict. Unless he resolves the conflict before trying to meditate, he is likely to drift back and forth between the two concerns, not knowing which is the prayer and which the distraction. I would like to give an example of a set of points made in this state of conflict. I am in a stage of prayer in whick I habitually want to find God. At the same time I am concerned about my health. Apparently I have done what I can t:or it, but still I am concerned about it. During the last two or three days, the worry has in-truded itself into my prayer. For the subject of medita-tion I choose: The Divine Physician. The scene to oc-cupy my imagination: ]esus putting clay on the blind man's eyek. I ask the grace: To put myself in the care of the Divine Physician. I now think about the subject for a moment (instinctively guided by the two master facts listed above), and reflectively expand it into three points. FIRST POINT: The God-man, the true Physi-cian. SECOND POINT: I put myself completely in Your care, Divine Healer. THIRD POINT: Lord, now that I am Your concern, You can be my concern. I now choose some phrase which in one or a few words cap- Again I refer to Belorgey, The Practice. Method in Prayer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures the essence of the meditation. I call it the SPIR-ITUAL CAPSULE: Divine Physician, come! Something very important has transpired here. This simple preparation, which in practice might take me no more than a couple of minutes, was actually a miniature meditation. In this preparation-meditation I have ended my concern by deliberately turning it over ~to Christ. I did that in the second point. At that point I eliminated the conflict and left myself free to pray about my deep-est concerns. That fact is crystalized in the third point, where my attention is focused on the Lord, and I have actually already begun my interchange of affection with Him. In this mini-meditation I have disposed myself for the p.rayer of the presence of God by giving my current concern the momentary attention it needed, which was all the attention it deserves. This telescoping of a medi-tation which might formerly have taken an hour to get the same results into a minute or two is characteristic of persons who have reached more contemplative states of prayer. It proceeds intuitively and almost instantane-ously. It is also characteristi~ of contemplative states of prayer that meditation is displaced from prayer time and is skillfully and spontaneously carried on at odd moments during the day, and at the time of prepara-tion for prayer. Prayer preparation is, in contemplative states, a time to run quickly through meditative mat-ters and then put them aside, and thus put the soul in peace for contemplation. Let us now take the example of a set of points which a man might make while he is in the stage of the prayer of faith, on a quiet day when nothing is troubling him. The master fact governing his choice is his yearning for non-verbal communication with God: SUBJECT Resting with You by faith. SCENE Desert, where You invited the Apostles to come and rest with You (Mk 6:31). GRACE To be still and know that You are G~d (Ps 46:10). FIRST POINT "Commune with your hearts on your beds and be Silent" (Ps 4:4). SECOND POINT "Peace, be stilll" (Mk 4:39). THIRD POINT You lead me beside still waters, You restore my soul (Ps 23:3). SPIRITUAL CAPSULE God There are a number of useful things to be noted in this example. The meditator is addressing God even in the course of preparing points. He sees no sense in talk-ing about God in third person when l~e can address Him directly. Further, he loves to address God and have God address him in God's own words taken from Scrip-ture. And he has culled from Scripture and put down from memory passages he has recently memorised in the course of his Scriptural reading because they aptly de-scribe and Scripturally vouch for the authenticity of his current form of prayer. Finally, he summarizes his whole meditation in one word, knowing that even one word is too many to use in this stage of prayer. A man in the prayer of faith or beyond may make points similar to this most days for months at a time-- or even ~ears. He makes fresh points each day, because there is always a different nuance it is important to ex-press, but the essence remains un.varying. He is in com-munion with God on a deep level little affected by the transient times and tides of each day. The two examples given make it evident that I pro-pose a standard framework to contain the meditation. I call it the spiritual filing cabinet. It is the format made familiar by St. Ignatius. The advantage is that of any filing cabinet. It makes it easy for me to remember and sort out my thoughts each day, since I never vary. the cabinet but only the contents. I write down the medita-tion each night, but just before falling to sleep I can easily recall it from memory because of the standardized framework. On evenings when the preparation is fully successful, I will have disposed of all other concerns by the time I reach the third point, and there be swept up into the presence of God, where I hope to remain until after the hour of prayer the next morning. In that case, I will not recall the points when I compose myself for sleep. The points have eliminated themselves by pro-jecting me beyond them. They have proved their power to be selpeliminating. Let us take an example of a third mood, which is a composite of the two preceding moods, and see the points that come out of it. Personally, the meditator would like to spend his prayer time simply dwelling with God, but he feels he ought to bring the whole world into his meditation. To which of these conflict-ing desires is he really being called by ~race? The an-swer is that if he is in a contemplative stage of prayer such as the prayer of faith, the presumption must be in its favor until experience gives contrary evidence. After all, arrival at such a prayer is a personal invitation from God to come apart and rest awhile. Furthermore, by his contemplation the person is disposing himself to be God's servant to the world. Still, in preparing his medi-tation, the meditator may be able to synthesize the two diverse thrusts of his desire: SUBJECT The God of concern for the world SCENE The God of the world is within me, who am part of the world GRACE To be one with You in Your labors for men, my God and their God FIR, ST POINT 0 God of all origins, Father ingeneratet + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 SECOND POINT 0 God to the world, Incarnate God-Sonl THIRD POINT 0 God to the world-in-process of being reborn, Holy Spirit with usl SPIRITUAL CAPSULE Com~, Lord Jesus! In this meditation the meditator has succeeded in gain-ing a synoptic view of God and the world, thereby rec-onciling the seemingly opposed desires of his state of mind. Whatever direction his meditation takes in the morning, it should be able to take it without distraction from unreconciled contraries. Sometimes, when there are a few extra minutes avail-able, it is useful to jot down a few sub-ideas under one or more of the three points. Under the first point of the sample meditation just given, one might jot: You are the Father who has instructed us: "Be fruitful and mul-tiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion." Under the second he might jot the words of Jesus: "Fear not, I have overcome the world," and "I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly." Years ago, I used to find this helpful, but now I generally find that it only clutters up the meditation and interferes with the simple contemplative gaze the preparation helps me to achieve. Anyone willing to experiment with this method for eliminating method may discover to his joy that while he used to wander to and fro from one book to another looking for something to help him meditate, he now easily discovers what he wants. When he asks: "What do I want to pray about, Lord?" the subject readily comes to mind: The quiet of being with You. "What scene to quiet my imagination?" John leaning on Your breast. What grace? To renew my knowledge of what it means to be with You. Point One: Resting here with You. Point Two: Listening in my heart to what You say. Point Three: Returning the love. Spiritual Capsule: I to You, and, to me, You whom my heart loves. In all of this, I have begun with something even more personal than Scripture. I have consulted God and my-self, and from there gone on to use Scripture, as God's means of communicating with me and I with Him. Slowly I formulate what God and I are to one another at the moment. I find God, and, as best I can, remain with Him until the time of formal prayer the next morn-ing. The Praying Itself If I am to pray in the early morning, the time to begin praying is the moment I awake. If, on awaking, I am in the presence of God, I make no attempt to recall my points. I simply remain with Him. When I come to the formal time for prayer, I do not use my points. Points are not lor use. I abide with God. I pray con-templatively, in a form of non-verbal communication represented by the names, prayer oI faith, prayer ol quiet, and so forth. Of course, this method does not produce such a state of prayer. It only facilitates it for those who have attained to it. Often, it is only by turning away from thoughts of God that we can turn to God, for no thought can con-tain Him, but a thought can distract us from Him. One nun to whom I had communicated these reflections wrote me: I've read a little over half of the Ascent to Mount Carmel. I like John. He is very gentle, thoughtful, and humble. 250 pages of how to do nothing in prayer. You sai,d, it in one sen-tence: "Don't think about God; think God.' I understand that all this background is essential, though, especially since I have not yet learned how to do nothing. This self-eliminating method can help us to bank the flies of our own recollection until it reaches the in-candescence of the prayer of the presence of God. The method is for those who have found and want to hold on to the prayer of communication, communion, and union with God. It is for those quiet enough to hear the call to this prayer, and courageous enough to take the solitary path to their meeting alone with God. The points are designed for self-elimination, but they are also meant to serve as an emergency auxiliary. They are supposed to put us into the orbit of our normal prayer, but they are also' supposed to rescue us if we fall out of it. Should I be unsuccessful in finding God when I awake in the morning, I recall my points and mentally run through them. I center my recollection around them until the time for formal prayer. On coming to prayer, I put aside my points and make another attempt to find God without thoughts or words. If I do not succeed, I resort to my points once again, ' since I have put into them the matters which mean most to me at the mo-ment. They should help me to pray the prayer of sim-plicity, or the prayer of affection, or at least to do some meditating. If not, I will have to turn to some other alternative, such as meditative reading of the Scripture, but only as a good spiritual director, or a reliable book on the stages of prayer, advises.n Sometimes when we attempt to prepare our own points, we will find we are devoid of every thought. We have no choice but to resort to some one else's points. Or do we? That is the time to turn to past sets of our own o In advanced states, it is not easy to know whether we are praying successfully or wasting our time. See, once again, Belorgey, The Practice, or the works of St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and others. + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 357 Sm~t~o S./. RELIGIOUS 358 points, prepared out of our own heads in .richer seasons, and stored up for barren days. At times when I have felt repelled by the thought of any book and unable to prepare a meditation of my own, I have frequently re-sorted to stores of my own points. Almost always two or three sets will guide me into prayer and. recollection within minutes. Once again I am experiencing the grace I received in the day and hour I first used those particu-lar points. Roads we have used to God in the past often remain viable if we can locate them again. We should return often to the sites where He has visited us in the past. This method of preparing points is very useful even for those in earlier stages of prayer, but for them the preparation will not be self-eliminating. They will of necessity take their self-prepared material into the prayer and use it to feed their meditation. They will enjoy most of the benefits of this highly personalized and creative method of prayer. For them too it minimizes method, reduces foreign elements in their prayer to a minimum, and guides them to personal discovery of Christ. When beginners use this method of making points, it will have to be modified somewhat. O[ten, they will not be able to prepare points out of their heads. What they can do is take a Gospel event, analyze it, and put it.into the spiritual filing cabinet according to their own bent. Under each point they should jot down personal ideas and experiences relating to the Scriptural themes. If no personal ideas come, they can be trained to use the ref-erences to related passages such as the Jerusalem Bible gives in such abundance. Looking up these related pas-sages and jotting them down as sub-points will help deepen their understanding of Scripture and develop their power to meditate. They should take about fifteen minutes to prepare points in the beginning. Before long they will show more deftness and originality in use of the method. I taught this method to a group of young sisters with assurance that it would work. Not long after, one of them wrote me: You know, Father, at first when you told us about using our "spiritual capsule" before bedtime and that in time we would awaken at night and find ourselveg" talking to God, I felt it would be years until that could ever happen to me. But it has happenedl Post-Prayer Activity We ought to record worthwhile insights, experiences, and meetings with God in prayer. Reading them over some time later can be the best fuel for future points. As already indicated, we should store up successful self-made points. It is practicable to make points each day in a small note book, dating each day as we go along. When we want to make a post-prayer reflection in writing, put it in the same place. In the future when our mood is such that we want to return to some explicit past meditation, we will be able to find it with ease and benefit by it again. This method for eliminating method in prayer has been well tested and proven. It requires some trouble on our part, but it eliminates a lot more trouble than it takes. It is a method with a high yield. For surely he is going to make the most progress in his search for God who starts not from some one else's starting point but from his own. + + + VOLUME 29, 1970 DOM JOHN MAIN, O.S.B. V ew Dora Johu Main, O.S.B., a monk of Ealing, is presently living at St. An-selm's Abbey in Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Once upon a time a small boy and his old uncle were out for a walk in their city. It was a large city and had in it all sorts of wonderful modern buildings and wonderful modern people. It was called Secular City and was beautifully situated in a deep valley with spectacular high mountains rising up all around it. The small boy and his uncle had strayed into an older part of the city, and the boy was very surprised when they came upon a large building in a ruinous condi-tion. This was an altogether unusual sight in the modern city, and the small boy was upset by it. He thought how marvelous the ruins must have looked in their day. Pointing to the ruin, one feature of which seemed to have been a very high tower, he asked his uncle what this ugly eyesore was doing here. The old uncle sighed; he hated his young nephew to see anything that was ugly. "Well," he started, "I can remember that building well. It was very fine in its day, with a great high tower which reached way up above Secular City. They said that the view from the tower was absolutely stupendous." "But how on earth did it become such a ruin?" asked the small boy, looking now with an even greater interest at the noble ruins. "Well, you see," the uncle started, "a rather special group used to live there. They really did a great job for the whole community in rather a strange sort of way. You see in our Secular City we are stir-rounded by mountains and, as a result, we tend to get rather closed in on ourselves. It's rather difficult to ex-plain, but we tend to think of everything in terms of Secular City. Well, the group that lived there built a large and very high tower--to see the wonderful view; and in some strange way this view of theirs seemed to add a new dimension to the life of the group that made them rather special people in Secular City." The boy listened to this explanation with great at-tention. He wondered how a view could have so changed a group. Turning his innocent face to his uncle, he asked, "How do you mean--special people? Did the view make them a bit odd?" "I suppose it did in a way," the uncle replied, try-ing to recall the group to his mind. "We could never quite understand why they were so concerned to pro-vide schools and hospitals, orphanages and old people's homes. We just accepted the fact that somehow or other the view was at the back of it all." He thought very quietly to himself and added: "Anyone who needed help seemed to become the concern of the group. It all happened a long time ago, and I can'( remember too. well now; but it seemed that they brought all their talents together and used them wherever there were people in need." The uncle had not thought of these things for a long time. It was the dedication of the group that now struck him as the hallmark of their work. He wondered, to himself how he had been so lacking in curiosity about the view when the group had been such a creative force in the city. The little boy now looked really puzzled. "Well, what happened," he asked, "How did it all become a ruin? Did some tyrant come' and run them out of town?" "You remember me telling you about the tower, and how hard it was to climb to the top," the uncle went on. "Well, it appears that over the years, the staircase that went up to the top got rather old and worn out-- I think there was woodworm or maybe dry rot--and the group decided that they would have to rebuild it. And that was when all the trouble started. Some of the group just wanted to repair the staircase, but others said that was no good because the dry rot, or maybe it was woodworm, ~vould just affect the new wood. Then someone who was really very modern got the idea of pulling down the staircase and putting in an elevator. The trouble with this idea was that they couldn't get the elevator shaft in without pulling down the staircase, and that's when the trouble really started. In the old days, you see, there had always been some of the group either at the top of the stairs looking at tile view, or. some of them on the way up to encourage the others. I'm not too sure about this, but I think it was.rumored that even before all the discussions started, there. weren't quite so many climbing so high up the tower. I think I remember it being said that the group spent a lot of time looking after all .their plant and not quite so much time getting up to the view. In any case, they all seemed to agree that the stairs had to be rebuilt. But, when this argument started, they all got so involved in the discussion about the elevator, that ÷ ÷. ÷ VOLUME 29 1970 361 ~ ÷ ÷ + Dom John Main REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 they all began to come down to join one of the com-missions they set up." "What's a commission?" the small boy asked, looking rather puzzled. The old uncle tried to look very wise. "A commis-sion," he faltered, "was a part of the group set up to examine some particular problem. They usually passed out questionnaires which everybody had to fill in, and these suggested new questions and more questionnaires. I never really understood the process---but I believe it was quite essential." The little boy did not seem to be paying much atten-tion to this; and, turning his perplexed face to his uncle, he pondered: "But was anyone trying to keep going up the tower to see the view while those com-missions met?" He was only a small boy, but it seemed to him that if the view had been so important in the past it might even inspire the work of the commissions. "I suppose some were," replied the old uncle, "but then they all seemed to get nervous about the founda-tions." "The foundations," replied the small boy, now look-ing at his old uncle with something like incredulity. "Yes," went on the uncle. "You see, after a while the discussions shifted from the question of the elevator or the stairs to another more fundamental matter, namely, would the foundations really support any new structure at all?" "Well, if they supported the old one, why shouldn't they support the new one?" asked the small boy. "And, anyway, what about the view? Didn't anyone even want to risk trying to get up to see the view?" "The problem was," explained the uncle, "that the old structure had really become very rickety by this time. The group was finding that the stairs just wouldn't carry them up anymore. And the foundations, this was quite a problem. But perhaps more serious was another thing. You remember me telling you that in our Secular City we get rather inward looking--strange to say this way of thinking now began to affect the group. In the old days they had brought quite a new dimension 'to the city, but now somehow or another they became like the rest of the people around them in the city." The boy now looked very serious indeed. "They should have tried to keep contact with that view," he said his face had become very determined and set. "I don't think we should be too hard on them," replied his uncle; "it was a difficult problem to know how to renew those stairs." But even as he was saying this, at a deep level he shared his nephew's regret. "But what happened?" urged the small boy. "Did the commission ever come up with a solution?" In spite of his black looks of a moment ago, his innocence forced him to believe that there must be a solution. The old uncle tried to remember. "I just can't re-call," he said. "There used to be a lot of talk about the group but then people seemed to forget about them." It was getting late and they had to be going home, but the small boy wanted to take a closer look at the ruin. They walked over and both looked at one an-other in surprise. There seemed to be sounds coming from the basement--was someone working at the foundation? But, it was time to go. "I wonder what that view was really like?" mused the small boy, looking up at the great ruined tower. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 29, !970 EUGENE C. AHNER, S.V.D. Toward a Renewed Life in Communi Eugene C. Ah-her, SN.D., is the dean of men at the S.V.D. Major Sem-inary; 4000 13th St.; Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There was a lawyer who to disconcert him stood up and said to him, "Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" He replied, "You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your s~rength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.' "You have answered right" said Jesus; "do this and lif.e is yours" (Lk 10:25-8). At this level we all find ourselves in agreement. The purpose of our lives, the goal of our struggle as human beings, as Christians, as priests or religious, is the love of God and neighbor. Here we all celebrate together and find ourselves in familiar company whether we are young or old, liberal or conservative, particularly pious or not. In fact, if we really pressed the issue we would find there are very few, if any, who are against love. After all, everyone wants love, truth, peace, brotherhood. However, as we go one step further and begin to ask what is real love anyway and how does one respond in the face of non-love, of hate, deception, and fear, the whole harmonious scene changes. What seems so simple and clear immediately becomes immensely complex and confused. Conflicting attitudes, opposing groups, and divergent ideas splinter in all directions. And we find ourselves in agreement with Qoheleth as he says: "I find that God made man simple; man's complex problems are of his own devising" (Eccl 7:29-30). The real problem, then, is not who wants love and truth and goodness, but how do we live in the face of evil. For, in each of us and in the world about us, there are not only the elements of life and growth but also the seeds of death and destruction. And while we may be quite sensitive to and indignant about the evil out-side of us, we are fearfully reluctant to look directly, clearly, and without dodging or panicking at the evil inside our own hearts. And yet, unless we are in touch with ourselves as we truly are and with our brother as he truly is, talk of love is futile. For the sad fact is that what then goes for love is rather an exercise in self-protection or self-aggrandizement at the expense of both myself and my brother. The gxeat task before each man, then, is really the human task. The fundamental point of religious life is common to all: to find oneself; to find one's brother; to find God. For, unless we are in touch with this funda-merit of reality we cannot walk the way of love. This discovery of our own true dimensions, tlie experience of our human situation, is a prelude to a life of love. And yet the one thing we attempt to avoid is knowing our-selves as we truly are--to enter into the wasteland of our own heart and discover there the dimensions of the sinner as well as the saint, the evil as well as the good, the love of death as well as the love of life. We are ca-pable of hate as we are of love, of anger as we are of af-fection, of the irrational as of the rational. No doubt the religious and monastic thing has always intended to bring a man in touch with himself as tie truly is--the long hours of aloneness, of fasting, of re-flection, of self-accusation, of spiritual direction. How-ever, there is no need to prove that the intended results have not kept pace with the practices and that, to the contrary, there are enough instances of these practices actually being used in such a way as to support and contribute to the dream world of self-deception and of the flight from the reality of oneself and one's neighbor. In fact, we might even wonder whether some of our more recent theologizing and liturgical celebration are not weakened by this very sort of glibness and superficial-ity with which it slides over the problem of evil and death. This can only lead to a kind of astonishment and perhaps eventual disillusionment when the repetition of the words love, community, hope, and life do not really seem to overcome hate, isolation, despair, and death be-cause they have never really met each other seriously and head-on. Each set of experiences is kept separate from the other because deep in our hearts we are not so very sure that love can really overcome fear and that truth is really stronger than pretense. The world of the kingdom, of truth, and of love is expressed and cele-brated loudly and clearly but in an uprooted and imag-inary world of its own. The world of sin and of death is kept apart, quiet and repressed deep inside the heart unknown even to the heart itself. Jeremiah says: "The heart is more devious than any other thing, perverse too; who can pierce its secret?" (Jer 17:9) And it is here in the unfathomable depths of the heart that the human ego keeps itself. + ÷ Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 365 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. ~. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 366 The difficulty of honestly facing our fear and the de-viousness of our own hearts has led us to many disguises and subterfuges to avoid the kind of confrontation that brings to light what is now in darkness. More by way of example than by exhaustive analysis, I would like to list three common ways we avoid the reality of who we are. Repression We are all acquainted with the small child who, in wanting to hide from someone, simply covers his own eyes. And so, not able to see the other, he feels well hid-den and secure. We smile at the naiveness of the child but what is innocent enough at that level becomes dev-astat! ng for adults who continue to deal with reality in this way. The easiest way of dealing with the unpleas-ant is to act as if it were not there. Somehow, by ig-noring it, it will go away. If our feelings run counter to what we are expected to feel, to think, or to do, the quickest way of dealing with the situation is to ignore or repress the feelings. If our feelings are so strong that we don't know what they might lead to, the safest thing is to repress them. Concretely, if I have sexual feelings or fantasies for someone of the same or opposite sex and for whatever reason feel that I shouldn't, I will tend to act as if they are not there. If I feel so angry inside that I am afraid that I will lose control and really hurt someone, I will try to play it safe and keep all feelings well under control. If I feel tender or affection-ate but consider such feelings unmanly, I will hide them. But the sad fact is that we cannot exercise such selec-tive repression. Before long we find that we do not know how we feel anymore and soon we discover that we no longer consciously feel anything at all. The price of re-pressing unwanted feelings is the numbing of all feelings. But deep inside there is a lump and we are depressed or forever anxious. And so we walk about like hollow peo-ple, not obviously angry or unkind but not able to love or feel deeply for anyone either. It becomes too dangerous to let go of any feeling because something else might come up that we cannot handle. But even that might not be too high a price to pay for external control. The fact is though that nothing is simply repressed without making itself felt somehow or somewhere--which brings us to our second ploy. Transference Everything that has made up our life leaves its mark and calls for its share of recognition. And if we are un-willing or unable to face the feelings that arise directly from the situation, we will have to face them in some other area that has no direct relation to the original feeling. Almost classic now is the understanding that masturbation, for example, is not simply a sexual prob-lem but a release of anger, frustration, feelings of in-adequacy and overdependency, that are not being met at the level where the issues really are. Another broad area of transference is the focus of all one's interests and energy on the great battle of evil out-side of ourselves. Especially today at a time of such far-reaching change and critical reevaluation there is no lack of evils to attack or causes to be advanced. All of which is fine and to be commended provided that it is not merely a front for avoiding the evil inside of our-selves. The real problem is that whatever evil exists around us also has basic roots and affinities inside of us. So, unless we have faced the evil within, our attempts to deal with it outside will be more a case of evil meet-ing evil, violence opposed to violence, lust opposed to lust, totalitarianism opposed to totalitarianism. And the end result will be ambiguity, hostility, restlessness, and the alienation of feeling. The present day religious community in transition is an excellent breeding ground for this kind of malaise. It becomes so much easier to fight the corruption in institutions and structures than in ourselves. And the sad fact is that there is so much that needs to be renewed but the one who is vigorously tear-ing down structures does not even realize that he is pri-marily fighting something in himself. Intellectualism This is an occupational hazard of any academic or student community. It is rooted in the realization that whatever can be understood can also be controlled. Therefore, if we intellectualize our whole life, our feel-ings and relationships as well, we can always be in con-trol. And as long as we maintain control, no one can get too dose to us, no one will be able to hurt us. manipulate persons and relationships, often unknow-ingly, in order to keep them at a distance and so pick and choose what is safe and what we can master. It means, of course, that all spontaneity must be censored and no feelings may overstep our present intellectual understanding. Feelings, then, become techniques to use "for effect." Relationships become calculations and the question becomes what should I feel rather than what do I feel. Life becomes a question of control, and lost are the directness and closeness of Christ: anger, fear, tears, and tenderness. And in the end, since the feelings have not been dealt with honestly, they will crop up in some often unsuspecting way and cry out for recognition. + + + Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 E. C. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 Perhaps it will be one person or one thing that will have to bear in an unreal and overdependent way our total emotional life. These are some of the more common ways we use to protect ourselves from others. But systematically and imperceptibly what we have hidden about ourselves from others also becomes hidden from ourselves. And so we find that we are not only strangers to others but finally also to ourselves. By middle-age most of us are accomplished fugitives not only from others but radi-cally from ourselves, thereby losing touch with the true source of life and renewal and motivation within us. What is it that drives us so far from ourselves and others? What subtle and all-pervasive element in our lives creeps into every aspect of it? What holds us in a closed and guarded defense rather than in an open and loving embrace? We are in fact face to face with fear-- our great fear that if we are known as we truly are we will not be lovable, will not be accepted, but rather that we will be taken advantage of, laughed at, hurt, or ignored. If others really knew that I am not only strong and capable but also weak and afraid, that I not only have desires of love and goodness but also of hate and destructiveness, would I still be loved and accepted or would I be crushed and rejected? I would venture to say that the great feeling of worthlessness so prevalent among people today is a direct result of their fear to be themselves. And we have reason to be afraid because to be our-selves means openness and vulnerability and honesty and confession of weakness. Revealing ourselves might destroy us. And if life is a little flicker between the darkness from which we have come and the darkness to which we will return, then we will do all that we can to grab it and. protect it. And so we proceed to build walls a~ound our weakness, to present only our strengths, to acknowledge only what is good and loving in us and we try to cover over what is weak and evil. We will be careful always to be in control and to have enough "pro-tection" between ourselves and others. And yet the fact is that only when we break through this hard shell can we be truly lovable. Only then can someone know who we are and love us. The very defenses we use not to get hurt are the walls that keep others out and make it ira-possible for another to really love us. And so we end up with the sad paradox that what we want most, to love and to be loved, is the thing we most thwart by our at-tempts to achieve it--through impressing others with being strong, trying to merit another's love by only re-vealing our "best" side. All this despite the experience we also share of actually feeling a greater love rather than less towards someone who may have revealed his own weakness to us. As John says so succinctly: "In love there can be no fear, but fear is driven out by perfect love: because to fear is to expect punishment, and any-one who is afraid is still imperfect in love" (1 Jn 4:18). So the very possibility of love depends on our willing-ness to face weakness and evil as it truly is--in ourselves and in our brother. Love does not solve the problem of evil by eliminating or avoiding it. That is impossible. To attempt a solution of evil by elimination is to believe that evil is only extraneous to man, that were it not for an evil society man could live in love and truth. In this view, evil would be successfully overcome if it could only be eliminated from the society in which man lives. It would be to act as if man were an angel who did not have deep within himself seeds of both good and evil. Rather, the only route open in the face of evil is to suff~r through evil without the loss, the capacity for love. In other words, evil must be transcended, not es-caped from or eliminated, and this cannot be achieved apart from the journey through the lust of one's own hell. So, finally, it is man himself and not evil which is redeemed. Evil, sin, and death will remain but they can be transcended provided that the individual face them in imagination and go beyond them in an act of love that restores the mystery of being and reveals the limit-lessness of man's freedom and responsibility. It is only by personally facing the depths of one's own despair, hate, violence, doubt, nothingness, aloneness that hope and love and redemption and faith are the victories that overcome, transcend the world. We do not face evil by simply committing it because this is in fact to sur-render to it. We do not face it by acting as if it were not a reality inside ourselves because this is mere,escapism to an unreal world which makes any real solution impossible. But rather, we must enter it through the imagination, risk the possibility of doing it, and with this necessary psychic distance, to transcend it. But as we consider these dynamics, are we not face to face with the religious thing, with the task of religious development in a community? A home wher~ I can search out my own heart, to discover the depths ~f the sinner and the saint, and to be accepted and erhbraced in a fraternity of sinners redeemed by Christ's 10ve. A group of persons with whom I can be myself, be open with-out deceit and not stand constantly under the sentence of being ridiculed, ignored, or taken advantage of. A place where the forgiving and creative form of love is operative and allows new possibilities of life to be re-vealed from sin and death. A zone of truth s~here evil will not be run from or ignored but faced ste,hdfastly with + + Toward Renewed Lile VOLUME 29, 1970 369 love. A community where there are honest men seeking for truth and love who are willing and able to accom-pany me in my journey. For this kind of atmosphere will allow an individual to take the fearful plunge and search the darkness of his own heart, to transcend the evil in his own life, and to face clearly the choice of lov.ing or hating, believing or doubting, being honest or hiding, hoping or despairing, living or dying. Is this not really what we should be about in our own life in community? The religious community is not a place to protect a person from himself, from reality, to escape or ignore evil, but rather to open him to the reality of himself and to reality in general. What re-newal has discovered is not a new commandment but the necessity of more penetrating and decisive ways of facing and knowing ourselves totally, good and evil. Only then can we really begin to walk the way of that first and all-inclusive command: "Love God with your whole heart and your neighbor as yourself." 4- 4- E. ~. Ahnt~', $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 370 ALAN AMBORN The Helpful,.Lifer It seems to be rather common opinion' that convicts who turn to God are nothing but hypocrites. Nothing could be farther /from the truth. You can read here what rel!gion really means to a prisoner. There are many people who seem to wqnder exactly what part religion can and does play in American prisons today. It is my opinion that it pla~s a very im-portant part, even though people may frequently say: "Isn't it all hypocrisy? Is a convicted felon ,really sincere when he turns to God only after he has b~en found in his crimes?" To that question we can posiibly have as many answers as there are men in prison. It may seem strange but it is nevertheless true that the people who ask such questions are us~ually people who have little, if any, firsthand information about prisons or prison inmates. What little info,rmatlon they have was obtained from reading the newspapers. Only too often such information is scanty and, at times, even misleading. , Suppose we begin with the assumption, that ninety-nine per cent of the men and women res.iding in the penitentiaries are guilty of the crimes for, which they have been sentenced. A large proportion 'of these are first offenders, many of whom have been committed to prison for crimes of omission, accident, or sheer stupid-ity rather than deliberate crimes of cupidity. Further-more, I would say that by far the majority of these are determined that they will never again come in conflict with the law once they have completed their sentences. The point I am trying to make is that among our prison inmates there are those who could possibly be classed as ogres, madmen, or depraved individuals, but they are in the minority. The greater part of our prisoners are peo-ple who have feelings, conscience, and a deep awareness of what they have done to their victims, their loved ones, and to themselves. In a prison, men and women who have been torn from their homes, wives, children, sweethearts, and + + + Alan Amborn 16376 can be writ-ten to at Box 900; Jefferson City, Mis-souri 65101. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS friends are forced to live an almost completely monastic life. Despite the many humane reforms in our modern penal systems, the average prisoner still undergoes the shock of isolation, the moral shame and degradation that follow his being sentenced. A first offender's initial few months is, generally, a period of shock, humiliation, despair, and above all, one of loneliness beyond descrip-tion. No one, not having experienced that first night when the cell door slams with such frightening finality and the lights go out, could be expected to understand the feel-ings that encompass the now totally miserable individ-ual. Along with the sense of loss come degradation and despair with a special kind of fear--spiritual and moral as well as physical. A person having experienced these feelings could never forget them. A person not having experienced them could never understand exactly what they were. Those first-night horrors can, and do, shake the most calloused lawbreaker to the very core of his being. Is it any wonder, then, that prisoners turn to what should have been their constant solace and comfort but, too often, is their last resort--their God and their Bible? It is the only answer and solution to a problem of pain that can drive the most hardened sophisticate mad. I speak from firsthand, if tragic, experience. I am an inmate of a Midwestern penitentiary. This is not my first prison. Yet, in each I have seen the word of God work wonders when everything else tried had failed. Any man or woman who is not completely amoral has some degree of sensitivity. Convicts are no exception. Even though the State, through legislation, charity, and necessity, provides for the prisoner in regards to his or her material and spiritual wants, there is always one factor that cannot be provided for, and that is the purely private and personal feelings of the individual. From unforgettable personal and bitter experience I know this common factor. Even though the warden of a prison were to offer a sympathetic ear to the inmate, the pris-oner's recent association with the police, the court, judge, and the jury, would have, consciously or uncon-sciously, erected a mental barrier that is, during the first months of imprisonment, not easily scaled. To the average prisoner who is experiencing his first imprison-ment, even the kindly ministrations and gestures of a chaplain, psychologist, or psychiatrist are often rejected and disregarded simply because the prisoner is not in a receptive mood or frame of mind. Very few convicts .are inclined to make officials of any stature their confidants. In the case of the new prisoner's family, the shock and shame emanating from their loved one's conviction and imprisonment is usually so great that they are at a com-plete loss as to what to do toward comforting or en-couraging their father, brother, or son. In a great ma-jority of the cases I have personally observed, the family procrastinates; they do nothing, waiting for the impris-oned man to make the initial move. Any conscientious prison official can tell you how inadvisable this attitude is. It is the usual procedure or custom in most prisons to have the new inmate or "fish" go through a thirty day period of isolation. There are two reasons for this pro-cedure: a hygienic check-up first, and then the period in which the authorities observe the conduct and attitude of the man. The officials, for security purposes, must know the moods, manners, and intentions of their new charges. Is the "fish" mentally or physically sick? Is he antagonistic or dangerous? Will he harm himself or some inmate in his anger and frustration? This period of isolation is by far the worst part of imprisonment for any convict, but especially so for the prison novice. This is the danger point for the emotion-ally distraught and the mentally unbalanced; this is the period where the man, all alone, must separate himself from the world of the living he has "always known, and accept and adjust himself to the frightening new world of the living dead. It can very well be the ebb tide of his life. This is the time when, no matter if he has been lax in his practice of religion, an agnostic or even an atheist, he will, he must, within himself turn to God. He must if he is to survive. For be he Christian or Jew, Muslim or Buddhist, young man or old, every fibre of his body, mind, and spirit will search for someone or something to turn to--someone who is understanding and who will show forgiveness without reservations. And it is inevita-ble that sooner or later he must come to realize that the someone or something that fills all his desperately needed requirements is the Someone who has always been standing by to forgive, forget, and accept. Happy indeed is the individual who brings a Bible to prison with him. Very few prisons provide a newcomer with this precious and cherished book. Many times I have overheard convicts state their desire and need for a Bible. In some prisons the chaplains provide these holy texts out of their own pockets. To my knowledge and experience, though, no American prison voluntarily supplies them to their inmate population. I assume that the reason for this seemingly official attitude is felt to be in keeping with our inherent American principle of freedom of religion, or in this instance, freedom from religion. + ÷ ÷ TI~ l:leIplul Liter VOLUME 29, ~.970 4, 4, Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS :374 Again drawing from personal experience, I know just how fertile a field for converts prisons are. Much has been written about our jails and prisons being breeding places for more crime, moral deterioration, and physical perversion. This, too often, is the case. Men who are lonely, devoid of hope, ambition, and initiative are easily led. The professional criminal and perennial jailbird are too often the leaders. These emotional and moral misfits know only one path to take. If a man can-not find the comfort and solace he desperately needs in this crisis of his life from friends and family, he will seek these two important factors in one of two places: with his equally despondent, lonesome, and lost fellow-convicts, or in his God. And there are infinitely more convicts in prisons than there are messengers of the Lord. Peace of mind and acceptance of God's will are even more important in an imprisoned man's life than it is in a free man's. For, having broken both God's as well as man's laws, the prisoner is usually weighted down with a double sense of guilt and remorse. And many times I have seen the moral and spiritual rebirth of an individ-ual brought about by his reintroduction to his Maker through the Bible. I was born of God-loving Roman Catholic parents. In our home, belief and respect for God were made part of our daily lives. Furthermore, He was a most essential part. I was sent to parochial and higher schools and, as a result, was well versed in the fundamentals of my faith. It was only after I stupidly and callously began to disregard the teachings and tenets of my faith that I began to ruin my life, and even worse, the lives of those who loved, believed, and trusted me. That, to me, is the greatest tragedy of the man in prison--those he left on the outside. Like so many of my ilk, stewing in bitterness and shame, I gave little thought to God during my first years of imprisonment, particularly after I was no longer a "fish." I turned completely deaf ears to the overtures of the prison chaplain and to well-intentioned state of-ficials. My attitude was one of "these state officials put me in here and now they are trying to persuade me that they want to help me; how stupid do they think I am?" That's a question I often ask myself these days. I know now how stupid this line of destructive thinking is, but I didn't in those earlier days. I know, too, that this is the line of thought that most new inmates take. Out of sheer boredom and because it afforded me an opportunity to get out of my cell for an hour, I attended a few church services. But if I actually thought of God at all, it was to blame Him for having failed me--never my having failed Him. That should give you an idea of how stupid a man in prison can be. That old clichd of "misery loves company" really gets a workout in prison. I recall vividly some of the discussions I had with fellow-convicts during my first days in the "joint." Few, if any, were ever in a construc-tive vein. They were almost always filled with bitterness and recriminations; not directed at ourselves where they rightfully belonged, but at our captors, our wardens, and even at our families and friends. As for me, per-sonally, I was the epitome of bitterness, frustration, and hopelessness. Through my own stupidity and cupidity I had lost my family and friends (so I thought at the time), and instead of doing anything constructive about regaining these lost loved ones, I submerged myself in a sea of self-pity in which I almost drowned. I was simply over-flowing with moral indifference, false pride, and per-verted thinking. I was fast approaching a point of no return. That is the point in a man's life when one more foolish or careless mistake can completely and irrevoca-bly preclude any possibility of his again becoming a use-ful, acceptable part of the human race. Then, I met a convict named Alex. One day during a recreational period in the yard, an inmate I didn't know came up to me. Though I had never spoken to this convict, I knew about him. I had first noticed him through a peculiar habit he had. I should clarify that by stating that this habit was pecu-liar in prison; he carried a book under his arm wherever he went. Upon asking some of the other inmates about this, I was told that he was a "lifer" who had already served twenty years, who had little or no hope of a pardon or parole, and that he was a religious fanatic. In prison, the term "religious fanatic" has a wide meaning, ranging from a man who goes to church services once a year to a man who attends services regularly. Another thing that set this inmate in a separate category with his fellow-convicts was that he was a "loner." A "loner" in prison jargon is a convict who stays strictly to himself, has no friends or close associates, and never participates in any prison activities. Even the prison officials look askance at this type of a convict and pay particular at-tention to his every move. For "loners" are the ones who most frequently crack mentally or emotionally. This prisoner I am writing of was in his early fifties, of a serious demeanor, short and on the heavy side, and whose face, though handsome, was lined with suffering. His eyes indicated character and depth. The moment he spoke to me I knew he was well educated. He was courteous and had an air of quiet dignity about him, 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 2% 1970 375 + 4. Alan Ambovn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and I immediately sensed an aura of well-being and contented resignation emanating from him. He wasted no time on social discourse. His opening words were: "Alan, I understand you are a Catholic." As he saw the look of complete bewilderment on my face, he continued: "Father Jerome told me that you had been educated in Catholic schools and that you might be able to help me with my catechism. You see, I am a convert and I'm hoping to be baptized in the near future." I was too amazed to answer him. The first thought that went through my head was that this was a gag of some sort, perpetrated by the fellows I had been hanging around with. Noticing my hesitancy and seeming to read my mind, he went on: "I'm really serious about this, Alan, and though I haven't much, I'd be willing to pay you for your trouble." Something in his manner told me that he was in earnest, but I still hesitated. Finally, I asked him: "How come you and Father Jerome picked on me? I haven't been to Mass since coming here and, as a matter of fact, I have not even been inside a church in over two years." "We never discussed that," he replied. Then he con-tinued: "All we talked about was your school back-ground. Alan, there are a lot of fellows getting instruc-tions and Father, with all his other work, is getting snowed under. When I asked if there were any Catholic men here that might help me, your name came up. As I'm sure you know, each Catholic convert needs a baptismal sponsor. I have no family or friends, so I thought that you might." His voice trailed off, as if in embarrassment, and he waited to see what I would say. When I didn't answer, he said: "I swear to you that there was nothing put on or planned about my asking you this. Your name was alphabetically first and that is how I chose you. Father even warned me that you would not be very receptive to the idea, but I thought otherwise. I guess I was mis-taken. If you'd rather not do it, that's okay, too." He started to walk away. I perhaps will never know just what made me stop him, but stop him I did. It probably was the wisest decision I ever made: "If Father Jerome and you think I am qualified to help you, it's all right with me. Forget that talk about paying me. Remember this, though, it has been a long time since I've seen a catechism book or even discussed religion. You might very well know more about the subject than I do. If you really feel that I can be of some assistance, it's a deal." To this day I don't know what Father Jermone's mo- tives were in sending Alex to me. I honestly can't say whether he had a motive or not; but whatever the case, it helped the two of us. Alex was baptized and I re-turned to my lost faith. As I told Alex, I was very rusty on my catechism and had to do a lot of research. Alex's knowledge of the Bible was far superior to mine; and though, at first, he was kind enough to pretend that this was not the case, it wasn't long before I was the student and Alex was the tutor. His tremendous grasp of both the New and Old Tes-taments was amazing. He could quote verbatim lengthy passages from both texts and never in a parrot-like man-ner. He had a profound understanding of its parables and lessons. No matter what subject or problem we might be discussing, he could find a parallel in the Holy Book, and no matter how bleak a person's outlook on life might be, Alex's Biblical parallels always seemed to offer comfort and hope to the individual. Though I don't believe he ever realized it, Alex was a salesman for the Lord; and he was a good one. The one thing that impressed me and everyone who knew him was his obvious sincerity and his calm acceptance of a fate that was, by all standards, unenviable. As I mentioned previously, he was serving a life sentence with little or no hope of pardon. The fact that this out-wardly didn't raze him and his seemingly calm accept-ance of spending the rest of his life behind bars natu-rally puzzled me. I told him so on one occasion. He explained that when he had first arrived at the prison he had been bitter and lost. Due to his behavior pattern, he had spent forty-nine months of the first five years of his sentence in solitary confinement. It was during one of these sessions of enforced solitude that Alex was given a Bible. Sheer boredom and the lack of anything else to read led to his initial interest in the Book. He honestly admitted that this interest was fostered by a human desire to do something--anything--to help pass the endless hours he was forced to spend alone. Alex had never spoken of the crime that had put him in prison; and I, in keeping with prison custom, had never asked him. However, it was common "yard" gossip that it was murder. Alex told me that his behavior problem came from his overactive conscience and his inability to forget what he had done. He was in a position that thousands of convicts find themselves in. For though soc!ety had in-dicted, convicted, and punished him, and then legally forgotten him by reason of more notorious and head-lined crimes, Alex himself could not forget nor forgive ÷ + + VOLUME 29, 1970 4. ÷ Alan Amborn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 what he had done. His misbehavior and antagonistic attitude was a masochistic drive to punish himself. One day while going through the Bible in his solitary cell, he came across the story of Mary Magdalene. It fascinated him. Here was someone who had been steeped in sin like he was and who had asked for and had been given mercy and forgiveness. He went on with his reading, this time deeply impressed and eager. When he came to the story of the crucifixion, he was spell-bound. The agony and torture that Jesus went through wrung his heart. He told me that for the first time in his adult life, he wept. When he came to the climax of the great tragedy, the scene in which Christ, suffering unto death, took time out from His final agonies to forgive His murderers and the Good Thief hanging beside Him, Alex said a wave of understanding and peace descended on him. He said that he had gotten down on his knees to pray, and that while doing so he suddenly and finally knew that he had someone to turn to. Someone who would understand and forgive and who would give him a chance to atone for his sins and his crimes. This knowledge was what permitted Alex to accept his fate and lot so calmly. Through Alex and his application of the Bible in his daily life, I came to know and realize that many of our everyday seemingly insoluble problems have answers that can be found in the Holy Book. The trials and tribulations of our daily lives seem minute in compari-son to what the people of Biblical times faced. I believe that anyone possessed of an inherent sense of honesty detests hypocrisy. Convicts are no different. Any prison chaplain is constantly bombarded with this hackneyed excuse: "Padre, I didn't go to church on the outside, why should I be a hypocrite and start going now?" It's true, the words may differ on occasion, but the philosophy never changes. In many ways this atti-tude could be interpreted as an admirable quality in a man if it were not, in the case of the convict, such a stupid and senseless one. Anyone taking the time to look through the Bible can find any number of instances where even the most devoted and revered of God's saints were at one time in their lives steeped in sin and wickedness. Some, such as St. Paul, were even violently opposed to the teachings of Christ, God's beloved Son. From persecutor of the members of Christ's Church to a pillar of that Church is certainly a complete turn about in policy and belief. In other words, St. Paul was certainly no hypocrite. As Alex often pointed out to me, if the Lord could forgive and accept into His heavenly kingdom the murderer and thief hanging on the adjoining cross to Him; if He could forgive and accept into His earthly entourage Mary Magdalene, a woman who was a con-fessed harlot; if He, in His infinite mercy and in His dying agonies could even forgive His murderers, why, then, surely it should not be beyond belief and compre-hension that He could and does accept a modern-day sinner. His Bible constantly reminds us that eternal salvation is ours for the asking. Remember His very words, "Ask and you shall receive." I honestly believe that convicts might ask more often if they had Someone to show or to tell them how. To-day's prisons certainly offer a. fertile field for present-day missionaries. For just as the man or woman dying of pneumonia or a similar infectious disease needs the shot of penicillin more that the ,healthy man does, so does the acknowledged and convicted sinner need the word of God and the comfort and solace that word gives us all. And should any skeptic question the worth of these ¯ sinners and the redeeming of them, I humbly suggest that he read the Parable of the Prodigal Son. + + + VOLUME 29, ~.970 379 FREDERICK A. BENNETT What Makes a Happy (or Unhappy) Nun? Fr. Frederick A. Bennett is intern-ing in clinical psy-chology and lives at St. Therese Rec-tory; 1243 Kingston; Aurora, Colorado 80010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Innumerable books and articles have been written about nuns during the past few years. Yet very little empirical evidence has been brought forth supporting the contentions of the authors. Thousands of nuns have left their communities yet there is a dearth of scientific findings either explaining why these nuns have left or probing the present feelings of those remaining. This study was an attempt to provide a few basic facts relating to psychological factors, particularly happiness, as found today among American nuns. 950 sisters, chosen at random from an original mail-ing list of 35,000 individuals from 91 different active communities across the United States, were mailed a questionnaire in March of 1969. The form used had been tested on a pilot study in late 1968, had under-gone some revision due to findings on that pilot study, and was composed of 54 questions in its final form. Novices and postulants were deliberately excluded. Su-periors, when they could be identified, were replaced by non-superiors in the same convent. The nuns in-volved were guaranteed anonymity both for themselves and for their communities, were told that the results would be made available at least to people in a position to act on the findings, and were then asked for their cooperation. The hoped for cooperation was magnificent. One follow-up letter was mailed and at the conclusion, 853 sisters had returned their questionnaires. This totaled 88% of all possible respondents. The average age of those replying was 4'~ years. The results give a broad cross section of thinking and feelings of pro-fessed American nuns in non-leadership positions. An obvious caution is warranted, however, before considering some of the results. The findings cannot be applied to any individual sister. For example, age is found to correlate highly with happiness. It is dear, however, that this is a generalization. There are happy and unhappy nuns at every age level. But for those who are concerned about th~ future direction of religious life and what must be done on a broad scale to give it the greatest chance of surviving and growing, such generalizations can be of great value. This project falls into a category of psychological studies measuring "avowed happiness" or the happi-ness which a subject claims for himself. Such studies have a long history dating back at least until the 1920s. Recently, however, more extensive work in this area has been carried out through several centers of investigation. Two of the more notable undertakings were those carried out by Gurin and his associates in 19571 and by Bradburn and Caplovitz in 1962.2 The latter concentrated on four small towns in Illinois, two of which were economically depressed, and thus they have a dearly biased sample. Gurin, however, used a nationwide sample of 2460 people "selected by methods of probability sampling to represent all American adults over 21 years of age living in private house-holds." Gurin and associates, Bradburn and Caplovitz, and the present study all asked respondents to note what they considered to be their present level of happiness on a tripartite scale using the classifications of "Very happy," "Pretty happy," or "Not too happy." Despite the simi-larity of responses, however, the results are not ex-actly comparable because of other differences. For example, the replies from the sisters were obtained by mailed questionnaires while the other two projects used personal interviews. Nonetheless, curiosity at least, calls for a comparison of the results of the three studies. Bradburn and Caplovitz (women only) Gurin and associates (women only) Nuns Very happy 23% IPretty happy 60% 50% Not too happy 17% = 100% 12%--- 100% 13% = 100% A comparison of the replies of the subjects of Brad- + burn and Caplovitz in the four small Illinois towns ÷ with the answers of the sisters shows the religious to have both a higher percentage making "Very happy" XG. Gurin, J. Veroff, and S. Feld, Americans View Their Mental Happy Nun? Hea¯lth (New York: Basic Books, 1960). VOLUME 29, 1970 2 N. Bradburn and D. Caplovitz, Reports on Happiness: A Pilot Study o/ Behavior Related to Mental Health (Chicago: Aldine, 1965). 381 replies and a lower percentage giving "Not too happy" responses. As was mentioned above, however, by re-stricting their sample to the four small towns, the atuhors also assured themselves of a biased sample. When the replies of the sisters are compared with the subjects in Gurin's nationwide sample, there is vir-tually no difference in the total responses of the two groups. But a very important difference is found when replies are analyzed by age of respondent. A comparison with Gurin's work by age group shows the following: Gurin (all subjects) Nuns Percentage giving "Very happy" responses Under 35 35-44 45-54 55 and over 40% a~% a4% 27% 31% 31% 36°/o 39°/o ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 382 Gurin (all subjects) Nurl8 Percentage Under 35 giving "Not too happy" responses 35-44 45-54 55 and over 10% 13% 18% 15% ~4% 9% Thus as those who live outside of the convents grow older they show a gradual decrement in "Very happy" responses and an increase of "Not too happy" replies. But for the nuns the trend is in the opposite direction. The nuns who are older tend to have a greater per-centage of their members answering in the "Very happy" category than do younger nuns. Likewise, these older sisters have fewer making "Not too happy" re-sponses. The youngest nuns while claiming less happi-ness than the older nuns also avow less happiness than their age counterparts outside of religious life. One immediate reason that might be advanced for the trend toward greater happiness with advancing age among nuns is that less satisfied members of communi-ties have tended to leave and the more satisfied have tended to remain with the passage of years in religion. This does not seem, however, to account for all of the differences since nuns in the older groups today have lived most of their religious lives in a period when leaving the convent after profession was often the exceptional case. Moreover, the younger groups have already suffered a severe depletion of their ranks and yet the ones who remain are much less happy than those in the older groups. A factor that is considered to contribute to the lessened happiness in older people outside of convents is the loneliness that comes to elderly people through loss of a spouse or breakup of the family. The nuns do not have the problem of widowhood and remain with their communities regardless of their age, This may explain, at least partially, why the older nuns claim greater happiness than older non-nuns. It does not ex-plain, however, the differences between older and younger sisters since both seem to have the same op-portunities to avoid loneliness. But since the degree of loneliness is an important factor in the lives of many, and perhaps most people, a question in the present study was directed toward the investigation of their relative loneliness. The question was phrased as follows: How frequently do you feel lonely? Often __Occasionally __Seldom __Never An analysis of replies to this question uncovered a significant negative correlation between loneliness and the basic question of happiness. Actually, the correla-tion of happiness with loneliness was greater than the correlation of happiness with any other element of the nun's life that was tapped in this study. The basic cor-relation between the two was --.50 which could be expected far less than once in a thousand times simply on the basis of chance alone. The meaning of this correlation is that those who tend to report more frequent instances of loneliness also tend to claim sig-nificantly less happiness for themselves. The question must arise in every correlation as to which is the cause and which is the effect. Thus in the present case, does the loneliness cause the unhappiness, or do those who are unhappy tend to be lonely because they are unhappy? Or is some third factor causing both the loneliness and the unhappiness? Although the ques-tion is insoluble at the present time, one of the sugges-tions that will be made later in this article is based on the premise that loneliness is causing some of the unhappiness and that a major point of concentration should be that of overcoming loneliness. Other significant correlates of happiness were also found. In advance it was hypothesized that three ele-ments would figure prominently in the overall 'happi-ness of nuns. These three can be summarized as inter-personal relations, job satisfaction, and leadership. All were found to be significantly correlated with happiness. Loneliness was considered as pertaining 'to inter-personal relations. But there were also other questions + + + What Makes a Happy Nun? VOLUME 29, 1970 383 pertaining to interpersonal relations that showed a high correlation with happiness. For example, one of the questions asked: Do you feel that the majority of sisters with whom you live really are interested in you as a person? ._____Definitely ___.Probably ~robably not Those who are happier tend to say that they feel that other members of the convent are interested in them as a person and those who are less happy take a dimmer view of the interest of others. In job satisfaction, another highly significant correla-tion with happiness (.34, p. < .001) was found. Those who said they found their job more satisfying also tended to be happier. Leadership was also significantly correlated (.34, p < .001) with happiness. The more favorably the sister rated her superior, the happier she was likely to be. The immediate conclusion is that interpersonal re-lations, job satisfaction, and evaluation of leadership are all significantly related to happiness. But it is most interesting that of the three, leadership and job sati~- faction are less important than interpersonal relation-ships. This is especially worthy of consideration because so much more effort at renewal in many communities seems to be directed toward improving job satisfaction and changing leadership patterns rather than toward improvirig interpersonal relations among the nuns themselves. + ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Leadership An example of leadership modifications is found in communities that have eliminated the local superior. The opportunity to investigate the benefits of this change in leadership role was available in this study since 123 sisters said that they were living in a convent in which there was no local superior. In examining these figures, however, it should be remembered that not having a superior allows for a diversity of ways of being carried out in practice; and no attempt was made to define more exactly what each of the 123 nuns meant when she said that she had no local superior. But taking all those without a superior as one group, no significant difference in happiness was found be-tween those having a superior and those not having one. There was actually a slight tendency for those with a superior to claim greater happiness than those without a superior but this may have been merely a chance happening that would be reversed on another sample. The following are the percentage of responses in both groups: Have a superior Do not have a superior Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy 37% 49% 14%-- 100% 32% ~4% ~4% = ioo% Therefore it appears that simply not having a superior does not necessarily improve chances for happiness among members of the community. Sisters who had a local superior were asked to rate their superior in the following question: How do you evaluate the job of leadership being done by your present local superior? __.Excellent ~_Fair ~.Poor __.Very poor An interesting comparison appears when those who do not have a superior are matched with those rating their superior either high or low. Sisters rating superior good/excellent Sisters rating superior poor/very poor No superior Very happy ~6% 23% 32% Pretty happy 46% Not too happy 8% = 1oo% 33% := 100% i4% = 100% Thus being without a local superior is not as favor-able as having a good superior but is preferable to hav-ing a superior whom the subject feels is doing a poor job. Another area that is of importance today in the question of leadership is that some local communities are able to choose their superior in contrast to the former policy of having all superiors appointed either by the major superior or by vote of the chapter. In this study 82 nuns said that they had been allowed to select their own superior. For this group the following percentages were found: Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy Chose their own 50% 40% 10% = 100% superior ÷ ÷ 4. What Malws a These figures indicate that being able to elect a VOLO~E mo ~gro superior is a very desirable arrangement. Gomparing $85 these figures with those given above for sisters rating their superior as good or excellent, the groups are very similar in their avowals of happiness. Consequently it seems preferable to elect a superior rather than to eliminate her altogether. Election is also, of course, far preferable to having a poor superior imposed from above. + + F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 Departures Sisters have been leaving in substantial numbers dur-ing recent years. To determine the unrest that still re-mains in the convents the following question was asked: During the past six months, which of the following would describe feelings or thoughts you have had about leaving religious life? (60%) I have not considered leaving (23%) I have considered leaving but not seriously (10%) I have seriously considered leaving but have de-cided against it (5%) I have seriously considered leaving and may do so (2%) I will probably leave 100% (The percentage of sisters responding in each way is noted in parentheses before each response.) Although the majority of nuns have not considered leaving during the past six months, a substantial minor-ity of 40% have at least had the idea of leaving enter their minds during that period. Moreover, 17% have seriously considered such a possibility. Thus, although only 7% were still seriously considering leaving when this study was conducted, there is a large group that is somewhat shaky and it is not unlikely that many of this group will again have the idea of departing enter their minds. In addition those who do actually leave will probably intensify thoughts of leaving in others and may induce such thoughts in some of those who have not considered it. It appears, therefore, under this inter-pretation of the figures that the exodus from convents is far from completed unless very drastic changes come about in the thinking of present members. When thoughts of leaving are analyzed by age of respondent, very important differences are again noted. The percentages in each age group are on p. 387. As would be expected, the younger groups are much more likely to be thinking of leaving than are the older nuns. But the extent of the differences between the groups is rather surprising. It is especially important that 73% of the youngest group has considered leaving and 40% have seriously considered it. Thus those who will be leaving will usually be the ones who formerly would be carrying the hopes for religious life in the Have not considered leaving Considered but not seri-ously Seriously considered leav-ing May leave Probably will leave Under 28 ] 27% 33% 10% 100% 28-34 43% 15% 7% lOO% 35-44 57% 25% 8% 8% 2% 100% 4~-55 66% 5% 100% Over 55 89% 4% 0% 0% 1oo% future. A further comment on the ramifications of this will be made later in this article. Other Findings Religious life is directed in large measure toward supernatural and eternal goals. The question arises whether remaining in religious life is dependent on present happiness. There was another highly significant correlation of .47 between happiness and the tendency to remain. This strongly suggests that they are related. Regardless, therefore, of how religious life may have been viewed by spiritual writers in the past, in today's convents present happiness is of importance. The nuns who are less happy are generally the ones who are doing the most thinking about leaving. Religious life cannot be divorced from the spiritual activities of the sisters. But in trying to analyze the influence of spirituality, many very obvious and perhaps insoluble problems arise. Because of these difficulties a very simple question was asked. This question did not attempt to assess the influence that the spirituaI ac-tivities have. It merely inquired about the satisfac-tion that the sister receives. The question was phrased in this manner: How would you describe your usual feelings about the daily spiritual exercises that you are expected to perform? __.I find them very satisfying .I find them somewhat satisfying __.I get little human satisfaction from them Another significant correlation was found with hap-piness. Those who are happier tend to receive greater ÷ satisfaction from their spiritual exercises. But here ÷ especially, the relationship of cause and effect is blurred. ÷ Such a finding could signify that because the sisters are What Makes a happier they thereby tend to be more satisfied with Happy Nun? their spirituality. But it could also signify that because the sister receives greater satisfaction from her formal VOLUME 29, 1970 praying, she thereby tends to be happier. Or again, a 387 ÷ ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~388 third and unknown factor may well be present which is influencing both happiness and satisfaction from spirit-ual exercises. Much research iri past years in social psychology has been devoted to the ideal size of various types of groups. Generally, the best size is found to be less than 12. It was therefore somewhat surprising to find that the number of people residing in the convent in which the sister lives had little effect on her happiness. There were similar reports of happy and unhappy sisters in all sizes of convents. Size was related, however, to some other aspects of the sisters' lives. For example, signifi-cantly more indications of jealousy were found in the largest convents. Conclusions Religious life as we know it seems to be headed for more rough days ahead. Unrest among the nuns is far from terminated. With 40% of the sisters saying that they have at least considered the possibility of leaving their communities within the previous six months, ~many more departures can be anticipated. Moreover, the thoughts of leaving are heavily con-centrated among the younger age groups. When this factor is combined with the importance of interpersonal relationships among the nuns, another disturbing pre-dicament becomes apparent. The younger members are tending to leave more rapidly than the older; if this trend continues, the average age of members of the communities will advance. New young members enter-ing the community in the future will find it all the more difficult to find convents when they go on mission that are staffed by nuns of their own age. A consequence would seem to be that these young nuns of the future will have even greater difficulty in establishing close relationships with other nuns and therefore the chances for loneliness will increase. It is certainly possible and often happens that a young nun finds companionship and meaningful re-lationships with older nuns. But it is more likely for the young nun to find that necessary companionship among nuns of her own age level. Again, this study was not related only to individuals as such, many of whom will go contrary to the findings of this work. Rather the concern was with the overall conditions of religious life. Here it can be said that as the average age of sisters increases, a larger proportion of young nuns will likely find it increasingly difficult to overcome the loneliness that is probably causing some present problems. A personal anecdote may be appropriate here. I re- cently had contact with a large community of contem-plative nuns in which the youngest member had already celebrated her silver jubilee in the community. This convent had not been able to retain the few novices or postulants that had been with them in recent years. Moreover, it would seem to me to be a minor miracle if any young women could be found to enter and re-main in a convent where they would have to bear with such a wide disparity of age. Fortunately such cases are not common today; but unless solutions can be found, it seems likely that other communities, both active and contemplative, may experience somewhat similar difficulties in the coming decades. Further evidence for the stumbling blocks that wide age discrepancies can pose for religious life comes from one of the open-ended questions that were included in the questionnaire. The nuns were asked what they found to be the least satisfying or most discouraging aspect of their life as a religious. The differences be-tween the age groups were striking. For example, a 59 year old nun answered: "The frustration with some younger members." A 30 year old sister said: "Judgmental attitudes of older sisters toward myself." A 73 year old sister pinpointed the age gap saying: "The lack of close communication between the much older sister and the New Modern Sister." Perhaps the split between the generations was most apparent in the attitudes toward change. Frequently the older nuns were most disturbed by what seemed to them to be excesses and the younger were distressed by what they considered to be the hesitancy of some members to change. This was not universal, however, as a few of the older came out with high praise" for the changes but these latter were the exceptions. In general, the generation gap was clear. But as important as age is in laying a foundation for compatibility among sisters, similar age does not insure good interpersonal relations. There are other elements involved in coming to an understanding and meaning-ful relationship with another person or persons. Many psychological, intellectual, and emotional factors are involved. Outside of religious life, freedom of the in-dividuals to choose the companions they wish to have takes account of some of these factors. Freedom to choose one's own companions has never been considered feasible in religious life until very re-cently when it has been tried in a few communities. There was no opportunity in this study to test the value of such a procedure. But an indication of the possible advantages of this arrangement may be inferred fi:om the decided advantage noted of being able to select What ~l~l~e~ a Happy Nun? VOLUME 2% 1970 389 ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 one's own superior. This latter also was not considered feasible until very recent years. With all of the inherent problems involved in being able to select the ones that the sister wishes to live and work with, further con-sideration of such a possibility seems warranted. Additional training in the development of interper-sonal relationships during the novitiate and juniorate may also prove advantageous. Some communities have used sensitivity training and T-groups for this purpose. Unfortunately, there is again no empirical evidence to base a sound judgment upon as to the advantages of such training. But in view of the problems connected with interpersonal relationships within the convents, such training merits consideration and research. Decreasing loneliness among the sisters is not solely dependent upon interpersonal relationships within the convent itself. Nonetheless, community life should be a basic bulwark against loneliness. As of now, however, community life is sometimes [ailing to accomplish this. The findings of this study, however, were not com-pletely negative. There was strong evidence that loneli-ness is not an inherent part of religious life. Not a few of the nuns recounted their experiences in having deep friendships with other sisters as one of the great plus values of religious life. In response to the question: "What do you consider the most satisfying aspect of your life as a religious?" a 34 year old sister replied: "The sisters I live with at the present time." A 64 year old sister replied to the same question saying succinctly: "The sisters." "Community living; the spirit of our com-munity (friendliness and joy)," was the response of a 28 year old nurse. A 39 year old teacher answered that it was "living with sisters who are interested in me as a person," while a 53 year old sister cited "the possibility [or personal fulfillment found in community living" as the most satisfying part of her religious life. It is obvious from these responses that loneliness does not have to accompany religious life. But it has also been shown above that community life does not insure that loneliness will not be present. In summation it can be said that new approaches to interpersonal relationships are needed. The gravity of this need is brought into focus by the distinct possibility that the whole question could become academic. With 70% of the youngest group already considering leav-ing the trend could conceivably be against the continued existence of present type congregations. Reversal of such a trend is not impossible but will take much concen-trated effort. LOUIS TOMAINO The Sister as an Agent oJ.Change As Warren Bennis and his colleagues have suggested, radical change is the one constant which seems to char-acterize this age.1 It seems clear that change is occurring in both the church and in religious orders of women. Sisters are all too familiar with problems of change for they are confronted with the problem of trying to bring about meaningful change in their congregations. They have the task of sorting out planned change from ac-cidental change so that only the more constructive as-pects of the process may be realized and the sisters helped to find more satisfying levels of community existence. Change in this instance may be the basic con-dition for the freedom without which religious life might well become increasingly difficult and unreward-ing; yet, from the standpoint of short range needs, it is often more comfortable for individual sisters not to change. The reluctance of an individual to give up old ways of doing things is understandable when one con-siders the meanings change may have for those who face it. : Out of the many things which could be said about sisters and change, we have selected the idea that sister is an "agent of change" in her own community. If this is true, it might also be added that, in general, she plays the same role in the Church itself and in her apostolate. In the past two years, we have held group dynamics workshops with over 1000 sisters from various congrega-tions during which time we have stressed the change agent concept. In their case, the issue no longer seems to be whether change should occur, but rather, what change is to be encouraged and how might it be facili-tated? This paper reports on some things which char-acterize sisters and change. 1 Warren G. Bennis, Kenneth D. Benne, and Robert Chin, The Planning of Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962). Louis Tomaino is the acting direc-tor of Worden School of Social Services; Our Lady of the Lake College; San Antonio, Texas 782O7. VOLUME 29, 1970 391 Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, two inventive be-havioral scientists, conceptualized a model called the managerial gridS which unified their lengthy study of management and organizational structures. This model proved highly successful in understanding the manage° rial process and helped .develop new techniques in management. Jay Hall and Martha Williams, social psychologists at the Southwest Center for Law and the Behavioral Sciences and former students of Blake and Mouton, utilized the grid concept with an instrument called the change grid. This grid was extremely valuable in workshops with the 1000 sisters. Sisters who are interested in meaningful community change might be expected to have some concerns about the quality of the change. These concerns provide the basic grid dimensions and are expressive of the sisters' thoughts. These are the concern for conformity (that members adhere to community norms) and the concern for commitment (that members truly internalize com-munity norms). Put another way, this says that sisters should comply with what the community expects but do so because they really accept and value those expectations. These dual concerns will affect the kind of change strategies a sister would utilize in her community. The two concerns are thought of as being independ-ent of each other. The sister may fuse them in some way in her relations with other community members but the concerns appear thusly in the beginning: C 0 M MITME NT (The complete grid appears on the following page) Loui~ 2"omai.o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CONFORMITY Different sisters impute varying strengths to these con-cerns. Those who perceive themselves as "traditional-ists" may exhibit more conformity interests, while those who view themselves as "progressives" might prefer commitment concerns in their approaches to change. So ~ Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, The Managerial Grid (Hous-ton: Gulf Publishing Co., 1964). that we might consider "how much" concern sisters manifest, each axis is scaled from 1 to 9. The value 1 will mean "low concern for" while the unit 9 will de-note "high concern for." Three methods of securing change assume that the concerns for conformity and commitment are in con-flict-- that communities cannot hope to insure both ends and must thereby choose one over the other. These methods (reading grid fashion, fight and up) are the 9/1, 1/9, and I/1 approaches. High THE CHANGE GRID ~/9 Ptrson-~Tentsred Clu~ng~t : There is a natural trend toward personal growth once an individual is free to accept himself. The task of the change agent is to help the person accept his strengths and weaknesses without the judgmental pressures of othersD values being in-troduccd. Then he will be able to accept both society and its values. 9/9 C~ang¢ ola CndiMli~y : Since behavior is learned, it may b~ modified through relearning. The change agent's task is one of creating conditions under which people can learn the consequences of current behavior and explore the feasibility of new behavior~ in realistic settings. Reality testing resalts in conformity based on commitment. Low Charismatic ~hangt : People accept suggestions only from people they can respect. The change agent must be "one of the guys" ff he is to gain enough prestige to influence. Changees will copy his behavior to win his respect and will then learn it is better. ~ustodial No one person can really change another. People only conform or fail to conform if they want to. The task of the change agent nccessarily is one of apprising the changce of the rules and then leaving it up to him to decide whether he wants to follow them and stay out of t~ouble or break them and suffer the conse-quences. At the same time, the change agent must keep those in authority informed as to how the changee is behaving. 9/t C~angt Via C~mplianrt: It may not be possible to change a personDs attitude, but one can change his behavior if he makes it elear what is expected of the changcc and what can happen if the changee fa~ls to conform. The change agent's taak is to transmit this information dearly and then to follow up by keeping "tabs'~ on the changee to see that he con-forms and knows that the change agent means business. 4 5 6 7 8 9 High Coastrn for Conformity The 9/1 .4pproach--Change through Compliance The lower right hand corner of the grid tells of that change strategy which is maximally concerned for con-fortuity and minimally concerned for commitment. This sister decides that community members cannot do both Agent oJ Change vo~u~ 2,, ~97o 393 Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~9~ so it is better to use one approach and make it work. The 9/1 sister will likely express her philosophy in this manner: It's been my experience that people do things only when they have to. A lot of the time sisters can't possibly agree with the way the Church says they have to conduct themselves, but they have to nevertheless., or suffer the consequences. Once a per-son realizes this, he makes it easier on himself and everybody else. I think change can best be brought about by spelling out what is expected of a person and what provisions exist for dealing with him when he doesn't conform. My job, as an agent of change, is to work with persons closely and see that they follow the letter of the law so that their behavior is acceptable and in accordance with general values o£ the Church. The 9/1 strategy does bring about change in many instances. The thing communities need to be aware of is some of the consequences which this approach pro-duces in others. Such responses as fear, rebellion, re-sentment, and hostility are byproducts in others of the 9/1 stance. Such psychological outcomes are unfavor-able for effecting change in the people who have those feelings. Under this system the community must be run as a "tight ship" with few democratic overtones. Indeed, for many years religious communities functioned as 9/1 organizations. Some still do. However, other 9/1 systems like the military and the police have begun to change albeit imperceptibly. With the advent of Vatican II, religious orders have also witnessed a trend away from compliance oriented styles of management. It used to be that sisters' behaviors could be regulated under con-ditions allowing little deviation from specified require-ments, and that by this fait accompli effect sisters would eventually acquire commitment. This "legalized" ap-proach to change does not seem a very satisfactory method for inducing long term commitment. The 1/9.4pproach--Person-cente~ed Change The person-centered strategy represented in the upper left grid corner assumes that people want to gain the values of the congregation and will gravitate toward that end when they are "freed" to do so. Concerns for conformity are rejected as antithetical to free choice. Person-centered change is designed to help the sister ac-cept her own shortcomings as a means of finding herself in her community and accepting others as well. Trust and appreciation are central to this relationship and concerns for conformity are seen as "getting in the way" of real commitment. This sister would likely perceive matters as follows: Basically people want to live good lives and get along well in their communities, but many of them just don't knowhow. Too many people have never had the opportunity to get to know themselves and, consequently, they can't really accept themselves or other people. I think the job of an agent of change is to work closely with people so that they can first learn to accept themselves as genuinely important human be-ings. Then they will be able to accept and appreciate others as well and will feel worthy of the religious life. Once a person has gotten rid of his own self doubts, he will naturally begin to grow and seek out the solid values of his congregation. The job of the change agent is one of helping people find self-ac-ceptance and freedom of expression, on the basis of which real growth can occur." The 1/1 Approach--Laissez Faire Change CustodiaI change as depicted in the lower left-hand corner of the grid presumes that individuals are autoge-nous and change or fail to do so as a result of their own desires. This really is not a change strategy but more a reflection of the change agent's unique perception of his own role. These sisters believe in "the way we have always done things" and think that change is up to other persons. Her philosophy would read like this: I believe that in the long run it is impossible for one person to really change another. Human nature is the strongest determinant of behavior and some people are just naturally better than others. It seems to me that the best thing for an agent of change to do is to spell out the rules for people as clearly as he can and then let them make their own choice as to whether they are going to follow them or not. Where there are clear rules, there are also pretty clear consequences spelled out for any failure to conform. People are pretty much their own bosses and it isn't realistic for any one person to try to change them. At best, a change agent is a representative of his community who hopes and prays that others will obey. In the end this way of thinking will promote "don't rock the boat" values, and terminate in "rut." Idealistic 1/9 type candidates who enter the 9/I congregations might well end up making 1/1 adjustments, Psychic en-ergy gets diverted to secondary external matters such as housecleaning, posturing, gestures,, and various other correctness models. Under these conditions communities may appear to function smoothly because everything seems to be in order. Underlying this facade, however, is a profile of non-involvement by community members with each other and, sometimes, an apparently perfunc-tory apostolic performance. The 5/5 Approach--Charismatic Change In the grid center we find a 5/5 strategy which says that the sister must have concern for both conformity and commitment. However, this approach also states that the more concern exhibited for one means less for the other. In effect, this sister goes half way with both concerns. She seeks to gain the respect and affection of Agent o~ Change V0LU~E 29, 197o 395 Louis To'malne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 others and utilizes this commitment to herself as a per-son to bring about change in others. Her philosophy is expressed along these lines: I think people basically resent being told what to do or what is expected of them by other people who don't really understand their problems or have had no experience in com-mon with them. I think the agent of change has to be a person who understands the situation of the people he is trying to change so that they will respect his judgment. The best way to bring about change is to first convince people that you are "one of them" and then set the exam.pie. When a person sees someone he respects and can trust acting a certain way, he will usually try to act the same way simply because he respects that person and wants to be respected by him in turn. This is a hard but effective way of bringing about change and the agent of change has to be sincere and willing to really give of his time. Change through 5/5 dynamics can be very effective. Its implementation is difficult because it requires a highly

Issue 66.2 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; Challenges Ignatian Insights Experiencing Prayer Religious Life Perspectives QUARTERLY 66.2 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: 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 stibscription 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. religious Editor David L. Fleming SJ Associate Editor Philip C. Fischer SJ Canonical Counsel Elizabeth McDonough OP Scripture Scope Eugene Hensell OSB Editorial Staff Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Vdebmaster . Clare Boehmer ASC Advisory Board Martin Erspamer OSB ¯ .Kathleen Hughes RSCJ L~uis and Angel.a Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukerids CSJ QUARTERLY 66.2 2007 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 challenges Between the Culture of the Satisfied and the Culture of Death John Lydon OSA looks at the challenge religious life faces in the developed world in light of declining numbers of mem-bers. Calling for an .ethic of solidarity, the article proposes not losing sight of our mission to the poor in these difficult financial times. Reflection Questions for Personal and Group Use 130 The Spiritual Blahs--Rejection or Invitation? George Aschenbrenner SJ interprets the painful, empty, dull experience in prayer and finds an invitation to greater intimacy with God. ignatian insights 138 The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises A. Paul Dominic SJ studies the Ignatian Three Methods of Praying in the Spiritual Exercises and finds that they serve to carry the fervor and glow of the retreat into the prosaic chores of daily living. 114[ 154 "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving David L. Fleming SJ explores the notion of "to serve" in the spirituality of St. Ignatius Loyola through Ignatius's life expe-rience and through the Spiritual Exercises. Reflection Questions and Prayer Mantra Review for Religious 168 176 ~p~rJ~ncin~ pr~yer ~ Prayer Is a Risk Rick Malloy SJ reviews the practical benefits of a daily personal prayer life. Reflection Questions Beginning Contemplation according to John of the Cross James W. Kinn carefully explains the beginning of contemplation according to the writings of St. John of the Cross and his practical advice for praying this way. 188 rsJigious ~i~ p~rspoctivss ~ Living Religious Life with Chronic Illness Mary Therese Johnson OP shares her experience of how chronic health problems affected her person, her ministry, and her life in the community. 197 Revisiting My Revisit of Religious Life Lucy Fuchs recounts a reunion, after fifty plus five years, of former novices, those remaining in their religious congregation and those who have left it. A deep sharing and friendship is now all the more evident. 2O5 209 214 ~epar~men~s ~ Scripture Scope: The Bible for Meaning and Nourishment Canonical Coun'sel: Conscience Matters Book Reviews II15 66.2 2007 prisms ~here do we find our contact with the risen Christ? When we read the post-resurrection accounts in the Gospels, we are struck by the always unex-pected presence of the risen Jesus to his follow-ers. Their slowness in recognizing him leaves us perplexed. If he still wore the marks of his crucifixion, surely they would immediately know the One they had been with, perhaps for some three years. Wouldn't they recognize his eyes, his smile, his tone of voice? Of course, when he addresses Mary Magdalene by her name, then she knows at once. We might want to consider ourselves as superior to these first followers because we certainly would not be so slow in recognizing Christ. would we? I think that the church has treasured the gospel writings about the resurrec-tion appearances just so that we Christians of all ages can appreciate the difficulties we humans have in recognizing God's presence in our lives. Like the first disciples, we struggle to name our "unusual/divine" experience as an encounter with the risen Lord. Maybe we are afraid of fooling ourselves. Perhaps we have a fear of God enter-ing so closely into our ordinary life. But just as Jesus came in surprising ways and at unexpected Revie~v for Religious times to his early followers, so he continues to come into our lives today, if we but take note. If we look to the most obvious place, Jesus meets us in our praying. Most of us are all too aware that our prayer time can be "ordinary," full of attention meanderings, dis-tracted, heavy in time-waiting. But, then, there are those prayer moments when we are taken out of all time, and we know Jesus' touch, Jesus' presence, Jesus' love, Jesus' calling our name. Even though the experience is immedi-ate, we need to note God,s presence by a review of our prayer or by our journaling. It is when we take notice, looking back, that we acknowledge and make our own that "it is the Lord." There is also the same type of "moments" in the pan-orama of our day where Jesus is present in the comfort-ing kind act or in the challenging question asked by the stranger. There are the moments when we are in the midst of a party or when we are riding on the public transport and we experience that "you are the one I love." Again it requires a looking back, a reflection, on our part, likely a noting through the daily examen or through some brief or extended journaling. We are claiming our experience and "incarnating" it even by our noting the divine inter-vention. Why does the risen Jesus want to enter into our lives? For the same reason that he appeared to his first follow-ers after his resurrection. He wants us to share in his joy of a life forever with God. He wants to confirm our faith. He wants to strengthen us in our own life mission. It is important for us to note how the risen Jesus enters into our lives. Our contact with the risen Jesus is not just through the testimony of others. All of us Christians are the recipients of Jesus' attention and presence--if we only take note. David L. Fleming sJ 66.2 2007 JOHN J. LYDON Between the Culture of the Satisfied and the Culture of Death challenges 118] Let us clarify the terms. "Culture of the Satisfied'? comes from the tide of a book by John Kenneth Galbraith, i a study of how the well-off econo-mies of the world have shaped the .entire world's economic culture. "The culture of death" refers to the poor, who, as Peruvian theologian Gustavo Guti~rrez says, "die before their time." The United States is part and parcel of the culture of the satisfied, yet we as religious are called to bear witness to something better. What are the challenges this poses for us? Can we be relevant in either or both of these cultures? We are challenged by two dominant features of American x;eligious life. First, we are immersed in the culture of the satisfied, in the consumer-ori-ented culture that never seems to have enough. An October 2000 article in the New York Times reported that hundreds of millionaires were asked if they considered themselves "wealthy.". John J. Lydon OSA has been for eighteen years a professor in the Seminary of the Archdiocese of Trujillo, Peru. Email: jlydon@osaperu.com. Review for Religious Of those whose net worth, apart from their home value, was between one million and four million dollars, only a few considered themselves wealthy. The rest said that being wealthy meant having around five million. People having .five million dollars in net worth also said they were not wealthy, just "comfortable." And so it went. People having ten million dollars gave the same answer: they needed to advance one or two steps more up the economic ladder to be wealthy. It would appear that the consumer culture convinces most people that they never have enough even when all of their basic and frivolous needs are satisfied. We American religious, immersed as we are in this culture, may--without a critical conscious-ness-- easily assume these same values and lose sight of our mission. Second, we live in the sociological reality of American religious life. It is a vocational option being chosen by very few. All of our communities are getting older, and many are simply going to disappear. And so the closing of apostolates, the reduction of personnel, the advancing median ages, and the declining health of older members is already a reality. In the middle of that stark reality, it is easy to forget the vast numbers of people who live in great poverty beyond our horizon--and to forget what still remains our mission in the world. The Option for the Poor At its roots, religious life has an evangelical reason for the preferential option for the poor. As the Congregation on Consecrated Life in its document Fraternal Life in Community puts it, one of the marks of religious life is "everyone for the poor," "many with the poor," "some [living] like the poor" (§63). In the light of this, our mis-sion seems clear. It is to somehow challenge those that live in the culture of the satisfied and to reach out in solidar- 119 66.2 2007 Lydon ¯ Between Cultures Solidarity is an attitude based not simply on but also on justice, 120 ity with those who are in the culture of death. Solidarity is the key to understanding our mission, as it is the key to understanding the church's social doctrine, especially under the papacy of John Paul II, who used the word constandy.2 For him, solidarity was intimately related to the cause of peace and justice; this explains its importance in his social doctrine: "The motto of the pontificate of my esteemed predecessor Pius XII was opus iustitiae pax, peace as the fruit of justice. Today one could say, with the same exact-ness and the same power of biblical inspiration (see Is 32:17, Jm 3:18): opus solidaritatispax, peace as the fruit of solidarity.''3 For Pope John Paul, there are two kinds of solidarity. (1) Solidarity is the binding together of people who are disadvantaged so that they can be stronger in the face of injustice. The classic example of this is trade unions, sup-ported by the church since Return novarum (1891). It is no coincidence that the trade union of Poland that went up against and helped bring down the Communist govern-ment was called Solidarity. (2) There can also be solidarity between those who have a great deal and those who have little. This is where the greater emphasis of this term is placed in John Paul's writings. Solidarity is an attitude based not simply on charity but also on justice. The church has always maintained that the goods of the earth are destined by the Creator to be used by all of God's creation. The accumulation of a great part of the goods of the earth in the hands of a small number of people, while the great majority of the Review for Religious world's people live in misery, is an affront to the plan of creation and the manifestation of an unjust social order. "The church's admonition is clear, and it is a faithful echo of the voice of Christ: earthly goods are meant for the whole human family and cannot be reserved for the exclu-sive benefit of a few.''4 What are the temptations we face that can lead us to lose sight of our basic mission? We need to be aware of these because we may be so immersed in the culture of the satisfied that we are no longer a symbol of protest or an authentic invitation to solidarity. Jesus faced three temptations as he went into the desert after his baptism. It would seem that we face at least an equal number of temptations that would pull us away from our mission. Temptation 1: Focus on Ourselves and Not the Mission As we become older and have a rising need to take care of sick or less mobile members, we are tempted to see that as the principal preoccupation of our religious life. We look to build better healthcare units and accord-ingly to find benefactors to better equip them or to pro-vide endowments for them. These are noble concerns that require attention, but the danger is that they become the principal focus. Erik Erikson, the famous psychologist, developed a theory of eight stages of life in which we grow as human beings. Each stage faces its own challenge and thus can involve either grace and sin. Erikson adds that, if we fail at one stage, we cannot hope to move to the next one. The last two stages are of particular interest here. In the penultimate stage we might choose either the grace of generativity or the sin of self-absorption. Generativity is a concern for the betterment of others and of society. We either reach out beyond ourselves in service to better our environment, our world, or we fall into self-absorption. ,121 66.2 2007 Lydon ¯ Between Cultures 122 ]. In the final stage the struggle is between integrity and despair. Those who see that they have made a contribu-tion, that their life has had meaning and they leave .some-thing better behind, .~c~n leave this world in peace. For those who wonder if i~"Fihs been worth it,if they have left anything good behind, the destiny is despair. As much of religious life in the United States and Canada enters the last stages of its sociological growth, Erikson's insights can guide us. If we lose sight of our mission and focus on ourselves and our own needs, all the up-to-date healthcare units, all the endowments in their name, will not bring us fulfillment. Having failed to make use Of the grace of generativity, we cannot move to the final stage, integrity. It is not easy to keep that mission in the forefront ¯ of our existence. John Paul II, then, reminds us to con-front society's consumerism, which leads people to accu-mulate more, believing that their worth is in what they have rather than in who they are. The way to challenge this unbridled consumerism is through a .greater sim-plicity of lifestyle. If.the goods of the world are to be shared with the poor, those who are economically bet-ter off must adopt spiritual poverty and strive to simplify their lifestyles so as to make more of the world's goods available for the poor.s "Evangelical poverty is something that transforms those who accept it. They cannot remain indifferent when faced with the suffering of the poor; indeed, they feel impelled to share actively with God his preferential love for them.''6 Temptation 2: Change the Meaning of the Mission Marshall McLuhan coined the famous adage "The medium is the message" to assert that the mass media have been shaping modern culture. The medium gives any message a new meaning. Similarly, we are tempted to Review for Religious give mission a new meaning because our needs push us to change the meaning of the words. We readily change what we mean when we talk of the "poor." Our evangelical mission as religious is to have a pref-erential option for the poor. But people debate who are poor. (Gustavo Guti~rrez has often pointed out that the poor have no difficulty identifying who are rich.) And so we are tempted to change the definition of who are poor, even to believe ourselves to be "the poor." We think we have a preferential option for the poor because we take care of our weak and infirm members and our parents and family members. We give them "the best of care" and see this as fulfillment of the option for the poor. No doubt they are needy, and we reach out to them. We should, however, avoid the temptation of identifying ourselves as the poor. We may be needy, but we are not the poor. At the Millennium World Summit, heads of state and other officials met at the United Nations to mark the year 2000 ~nd set up goals for humanity over the next quarter century--goals mostly having to do with the poor, the marginalized, those excluded from the benefits of devel-opment. Their definition of "the poor" is those who live on $2 or less a day; remember this. When our mission requires a preferential option for the poor, the question is not what we give to the needy in our own religious family. The question is what we do for the needs of those that fit the world's definition of the poor. What exactly do we mean when we say "preferential option for the poor"? The phrase, like all such terms, has its limitations. Let us examine briefly, the words "option," "preferential," and "poor." Option has not always been interpreted correcdy. It does not mean "optional"---choose according to your own wishes. Option here implies a con-scientious choice of, a profound permanent commitment to, solidarity with the poor. 123 66.2 2007 Lydon * Between Cultures The very word preferential rejects any kind of exclusivity, 124 The very word preferential, as should be obvious, rejects any kind of exclusivity. It highlights who should be the first--not the only--objects of our solidarity. It specifies those most in need of our attention, and is not "exclusive or discriminatory towards other groups.''7 Poor has perhaps been the most misunderstood term here. At times it seems that people do not want to identify the poor, or they identify them as everyone so that the word and the expression lose meaning. The Latin American Episcopal Conference of Medell~n examined this same issue and made it clear who is being referred to by the word poor, making a distinction between three types of poverty. (1) Materialpoverty. This means a lack of what is nec-essary to live a dignified life. It is an evil that is always denounced "as contrary to the will of the Lord, and mosdy the result of man's injustice and sin.''8 (2) Spiritual poverty. A quality to be imitated. The poor in spirit are people open to the Lord's will. Like the anawim of the Old Testament, the poor in spirit are the humble people who put their trust in the Lord. The poor in spirit are followers of Jesus. The Beatitudes indi-cate the attitudes for disciples who welcome the kingdom and show solidarity with the excluded. In this "spiritual infancy," they seek to remain fully available to the will of the Lord. It is a quality that everyone is called to adopt. (3) Poverty of solidarity. This is a free decision to share the plight of those who are victims of material poverty in order to bear witness against the evil that such pov-erty represents and to demonstrate spiritual freedom Review for Religious from material goods. "In this one follows the example of Christ.''9 Likewise, it obviously is one of the principal marks of our religious vows. The "poor" of the "preferential option for the poor" are dearly identified in the Medellin document as being those who lack the necessities for a dignified life. After Medell~n, attempts were made to debilitate this option by broadening the definition to include everyone and thus effectively eliminate the idea of a preference "for the poorest and most needy sectors."~° For this reason, the Latin American Episcopal Conference document of Puebla,11 in one of its most moving and significant sec-tions, precisely explains the identity of the "poor" to whom both Medell~n and Puebla refer. As the bishops mention, the faces of the poor include the indigenous peoples who live in inhuman situations, the campesinos (farm workers) who have no land and are exploited, fac-tory workers with little pay and no unions, outcasts of the cities who have no money, children weakened by poverty even before they are born, and those that are abandoned because they can no longer produce.~2 The poor, then, are not just an economic category but are dominated peoples, exploited social classes, despised races, and marginalized cultures. They are the "excluded," those who have no power, no voice, and for that reason suffer the effects of injustice. Undoubtedly, these groups of people are almost always the economically poorest as well. They are those who suffer unjust death, premature death.~ The Social Viewpoint of the Poor To adopt this preferential option, some attempt must be made to understand reality from the viewpoint of the poor. This requires a change of "social position." Poverty (and marginalization and exclusion) must be seen from 125 66.2 2007 Lydon ¯ Between Cultures the point of view of the poorest, though not necessarily by living among the poor. If economic conditions worsen for the poor while the gap between poor and rich widens, then the situation is unjust, whatever the macroeconomic statistics may say. This "social position" to interpret real-ity is a viewpoint we must all take up, whatever pastoral work we undertake, because only in this way can we be "for the poor." Only thus are we ready to fulfill the man-date: "everyone for the poor, many with the poor, and some [living] like the poor."!4 The church wishes to be a "church of the poor.''Is This means that it gives "preferential attention to the poor, seeking to share time and resources in order to alleviate suffering, [and] works with all sectors of society, including the poor themselves, in search of solutions to the problems of poverty and so freeing people from mis-ery and want. [It means using] the talents and gifts of the poor, relying on them in her mission of evangelization. The church of the poor is a church in which the poor are welcomed, listened to, and actively involved . A true church of the poor contributes decisively to the needed transformation of society, to social renewalbased on the vision and values of the gospel.''16 Those who still lack the means to live are the only measure of whether we live that preferential option or neglect it because we put our own needs (as real or imagined as they my be), rather than the poor, at the center of our mission. 12:6 TemPtation 3: Lose Our Trust in the Providence of God Mark Twain famously remarked, "There are three kinds of lies: lies, damn lies, and statistics." Numbers have power to persuade, but even accurate numbers may bol-ster inaccurate statements, and so we need a critical eye in examining them. They remain an important tool, but a tool to use only within the perspective of our mission. Review for Religious In our communities we face a clear loss of numbers and an aging population. We.can see that attending to the old and infirm means greater costs while income-produc-ing members are fewer and fewer. In the light of this, we make budgetary decisions to reduce costs, but we also invest more in ourselves. We start to build endowments, and we seek to be "fully endowed" so that we can meet these needs on just the interest generated by our endow-ment portfolio. Yet perhaps the gospel story of the man who has a great harvest and builds storage bins to keep it all should alert us not to make our goal the establishment of an endowment that more or less eliminates a need to believe in God's providence (Lk 12:16-21). If we look at the poorest among even the relatively rich (by world levels) American population, the latest studies of the Federal Reserve show that the bottom twenty percent of the population have an average net worth of only $7,500. At that level they lack any degree of security about the future. If we move beyond the poor-est Americans to average American families, the net worth goes up to $93,000. This is the net worth, including prop-erties, of the average American family. And so, as we build up our endowment portfolios, we need to ask ourselves whether we are a community of faith, vowed to poverty, looking for a.guaranteed future that is not only out of line with the poor, but also out of line with average families in our culture of the satisfied. Does our fear of the future lead us to forget God's provi-dence and put so much en.ergy into building up endow-ments that we eliminate some or all of our programs of solidarity with the poor? Most of our world lives in the "culture of death." Much of the human race lives on less than $2 a day while a few live in the "culture of the satisfied." As religious living in this latter culture, we are still called, perhaps 127 66.2 2007 Lydon * Between Cultures 128 especially in the sunset of pastoral commitments and even congregations, to make a difference in our world. The fulfillment of our mission, to have a preferential option for the poor, requires of us that we do not sacrifice our mission for the sake of our own futures. In the end, that would only result in our losing both. It is in our mission that we realize our dreams and desires for a church that is more eternal than apostolates and congregations. It is in contributing to that mission that we find integrity and peace. Through our acts of solidarity with the poor, with those who "die before their time," we raise a prophetic voice in favor of divine providence and against the con-sumer culture that encompasses us. We tell the world by our actions, by "walking our talk," that joy and peace come from narrowing the gap between the world's haves and have-nots. We recognize and/'eject temptations that can lead us astray, not because there is nothing good in them, but rather because they are not the "walk" taken by Jesus Christ. Notes t John K. Galbraith, The Culture of Contentment (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1992). In Spanish it is La Cultura de la Sati~Caccidn (Barcelona: Ariel, 1992) although it is often cited as La Cultura de los Sati~Cecbos. I use this Spanish idea here. 2John Paul II used the word 104 times in his documents related to the social doctrine of the church (Laborem exercens 6, Sollicitudo rei socialis 13, Centesimus annus I 1, 1995 UN speecb 7, World Peace Day messages 67) 3 John Paul II, Sollicitudo, §39. 4 John Paul II, If You Want Peace, Reach Out to the Poor, §3, cites Centesimus annus, §§31 and 37. 5John Paul II, lfYou l/Vant Peace, §5: "In order to promote the social, cultural, spiritual, and also economic welfare of all members of society, it is therefore absolutely essential to stem the unrestrained consumption of earthly goods and to control the creation of artificial needs. Moderation and simplicity ought to become the criteria of our daily lives. The quantity of goods consumed by a tiny fraction of the world population produces Review for Religious a demand greater than available resources. A reduction of this demand constitutes a first step in alleviating poverty, provided that it is accompa-nied by effective measures to guarantee a fair distribution of the world's wealth." See also Gaudium et spes, §88: "The greater part of the world is still suffering from so much poverty that it is as if Christ himself were crying out in these poor to beg the charity of his disciples. Let us not be guilty of the scandal of having some nations, most of whose citizens bear the name of Christians, enjoying an abundance of riches, while others lack the necessities of life and are tortured by hunger, disease, and all kinds of misery. For the spirit of poverty and charity is the glory and witness of the church of Christ." 6John Paul II, If You Want Peace, §5. 7 John Paul II, Centesimus annus, §57. 8 Medellfn, §14, 4. This was held in Medellin, Colombia, in 1968. 9 Medellfn, §14, 4. ,0 Medellln, §14, 9. 11 Held in Puebla, Mexico, in 1979. " Puebla, §§31-39. 13 John Paul II identified the "poor" with the "marginalized." As the new millennium approached, he asked, "How can we fail to lay greater emphasis on the church's preferential option for the poor and the out-cast?" (Tertio millennio adveniente, §51). Such marginalization can be more than economic; it can also be cultural and religious. See Centesimus annus, §57. 14 CICLSAL, Fraternal Life in Community, §63. is CICLSAL, Fraternal Life, §63. 16 John Paul II, address in September 2003 to bishops from the Philippines, §25. Reflection Questions for Personal and Group Use 1. Lydon identifies three temptations that can head us to lose sight of our basic vision. Do you agree with the ones he identifies? Would you want to add other temptations from your own experience? 2. How can religious men and women be relevant to the culture of the satisfied and to the culture of death? 129 66.2 2007 GEORGE A. ASCHENBRENNER The Spiritual Blahsm Rejection or Invitation? /~r some people, spiritual boredom is not painful. hey are so distracted by exciting pleasures and challenges in daily life that an interior emptiness, smoth-ered by all the excitement, is not bothersome to them. They do not even seem to notice. Though they have not overtly denied faith and God, they have become unim-portant realities, rarely experienced in any lively personal way. This is a sign, a sad sign, that both their sensibil-ity and their deeply personal desire have been numbed. Something might snap them out of their stupor, but, until it does, life just rushes on. Crisis of Interpretation For many of us, however, the effect is very differ-ent. The inner boredom is painful. It discourages and stings with frustration. Beneath all the busy concerns, and even the quick superficial pleasures, something seems t30 George A. Aschenbrenner sJ is rector of the Jesuit Community at the University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. This article, published in the fall 2006 issue of Ignatian Imprints, a new publication of the Maryland Province Jesuits, appears here with the permission of its editor and of the author. Review.for tCetigi~us stale, drab. There must be more to life. How to ignite the fire? The issue is a matter of interpretation. Before know-ing what to do, we must honestly feel and face the interior boredom. We must appreciate what it means, what it is saying to us. A quick automatic interpretation rises in the face of this dulling pain. Nothing is going on so why waste time with prayer, with usual signs of devotion? This is not our time. Such an instantaneous interpretation, though understandable, is often misleading, incorrect, even dan-gerous. A more mature and helpful interpretation requires more time and faith-filled reflection. Once we let the quick emotional explanation pass by, we can look more deeply at a larger array of possibilities. In the first place, this may be happening to us because we have not been very serious, very personal, about our faith and have not prayed much. In such a case this festering frustration serves as a wake-up call to get more serious about our relationship with God and not to settle any-more for careless and heartlessly mumbled words. This may be a call to a more lively personal relationship, a call to pray in our own words beyond the traditional ones, a call to listen more openly and interactively to God's Word in Scripture and throughout our whole life. If we are undisciplined and out of shape spiritually, some hard work at tuning up our spirit will be required before the dismal "nothing's happening" lethargy will lift. On the other hand, if the dreary dry condition is not caused by our negligence, then a whole new and more serious possibility presents itself. In this case, we are not out of shape spiritually, nor stuck in complacency with numbed, untended desires. We have personally known God's love. We have .been stirred, .consoled, emotion-ally touched by that love and have fashioned our daily life accordingly. Recently, over days and weeks, that has 66.2 2007 Ascbenbrenndr * The Spiritual Blabs--Rejeaion or Invitation? We must carefully turn to God in faith for appreciation and interpretation of this malaise. changed; a smog has settled in and contaminated the sunny enthusiasm of our faith. It sure seems as though nothing is happening now. And the temptation to aban-don our prayer life stares hauntingly into the eye of our SOU1. Seriously misleading, however, this temptation beck-ons to exacdy the wrong decision. In the awareness of no personal negligence on our part, we must carefully turn to God in faith for appreciation and interpretation of this malaise. This crisis of interpretation is an important point in the spiritual life of the mature believer. The invitation turns our hearts away from the emotional discomfort (oh, how boring and dull it all feels!) to what God is really saying in and through it all. This always involves a second look of reflection beyond the spontaneous disheartening emotional response. In this dark, dreary dryness, God, whose love is as personally present as ever before, is inviting us to draw closer by entering a deeper part of our faith relationship. i32 Invitation to a Deeper Faith Even though the emotion of God's love can be pre-cious grace, this felt sensation of love can easily turn into a golden calf, an idol, a false god for selfish wor-ship. Without intending it and sometimes without even noticing it, we begin to presume on the presence of this emotional grace and cannot imagine life without it. But such emotional experience, grace though it is, registers on the superficial, unpredictable level of our person. God, Review for Religious whose desires for each of us are all-embracing beyond our imagining, is inviting us to an ever more profound and, therefore, more intimate, more personal union. Development of such a union always involves a purifi-cation, a stripping away of selfishness, of too much "me." And, put starkly, this stripping always hurts. In this inter-pretation, which is critical to a deeper, more personal rela-tionship with God, flae dry, stale emptiness of our faith is not a mistake, a negligence on our part, but rather a call from God, our lover extraordinaire. We are being invited to believe beyond our feelings, to enter a realm of pro-found faith. Though it may not emotionally involve lots of fun and intense pleasure, our relationship with God at this level is more trustworthy, more foundational, more dependable than any simply emotional sense. This profound interpretation of God's loving presence does not downplay the emotional, even exciting, experi-ence of God's love. The truth here pushes deeper into our soul than the level of feelings. We see the same truth in our human interpersonal experiences of love. Though the emotional excitement of falling in love can be intense and wonderfully endearing, such goose-bump experiences of love cannot endure forever. No, these beloved emotional experiences must be rooted in a more profound dimen-sion of our relationship. Belief in the Presence of God's Love How easy it is to get stuck in these emotional traps. We want always to feel the fire and comfort of God's love. Because God is so jealous as to desire all of us in relationship, our divine lover must pry loose our emotion-ally fierce grasp, must wean us away from the wonder-ful, but undependably fluctuating, emotional satisfaction. This purification of our experience of God calls us deeper into our person beyond the realm of emotion and feeling. 133 66.2 2007 Ascbenbrenner ¯ The Spiritual Blabs--Rejection or Invitation? This deeper invitation does not kill and bury forever the emotional part of us. But the pain of temporarily letting go of this sensual dimension of our relationship with God hurts--and is risky. What will be left after such a letting go? For this reason, such purification invites and requires grieving. These tears at the apparent loss and absence of God can sting and burn, and should honestly be shared with God. But the tears and ache are soothed finally in a dawning realization: God is more than emotional spontao neity. Such a loving God is our very life. Far beyond any emotional impulse, God's love, intimate and uniquely per-sonal, is profoundly and ineradicably present at our very core, intentionally loving life into us breath after breath. This profound presence gives a peace, a harmony, a humble confidence beyond any intensity of emotion. Such an awareness can quiet us and synchronize us to the divine breath-giver's artful creation of us in the imme-diacy of every moment. Simply to breathe is to be loved, just to exist is to be cherished beyond imagining. This realization is truly awesome: for me as I write this, and for you as you now read it. A centering such as this reveals a foundation, always there, beneath all emotional and spon-taneous fluctuation. The apparent drying up, even death, of emotional fervor does not imply rejection. The belief in the core presence of God's love blessing us with life reveals the emotional nagging dullness as invitation, not rejection, on God's part. This appreciation of God's kind and insistent invitation does not automatically deluge us with emo-tional fervor. Nonetheless, this felt sense of God's love will always be part of our relationship, though now rooted in a more profound and personal dimension. In this deep-ened experience of God, our emotional sluggishness and lack of fervor reveals God's intentional loving dynamic, if joined with other signs: a keen desire for prayer, for Review for Religious simply being with our loving Creator all through the day, and for serving God's will in everything. These signs demonstrate that the sensible dullness is not a matter of divine reiection, nor does it drain our energy for serious effort in response; rather it is a precious moment of lov-ing invitation. Acting as if. Activity, concretely imaginative and bordering on the heroic, puts our faith to work beyond any emotional stimulation. This is a time for "acting as if." While we do not feel like belieying, praying, or serving in love, it is time to act, to act as if we do feel it. Why? Because we are loving, believing, acting out of a genuine experience of our loving God, but from a depth of ourselves more profound than emo-tional. But this "acting as if" can seem insincere, dishonest, even hypocritical. The insinuation of this type of inter-pretation reveals an evil, unholy spirit always eager to mislead and deter us. -- Rather than hypocrisy, we are here in the depths of incar-national, sacramental faith. To cling to and to kiss a cru-cifix when we do not even feel like giving time for prayer, to reach out to the needy person when we rather feel like turning away in withdrawal are not acts of dishonesty. These can be heroic efforts, whether quietly private or publicly observable, to sacramentalize in hope our deepest center of faith and love. Without such quiet heroism, our faith, our intimately personal relationship with God, will not mature and persevere over the long haul of life. An important distinction, however, is at work here. We are not acting as if we believed what we actually do not believe. That is hypocrisy. Rather, we are acting in line with what we deeply believe, even though, at this This is a time for "acting as if " i135 66.2 2007 Ascbenbrenner ¯ The Spiritual BlabsnRejection or Invitation? 136t moment, the emotional drive for such acting is absent. This is mature faith: to act as if we are always feeling what we deeply believe. The ability to believe and sacramental-ize in action what we are not now feeling marks the seri-ous believer. Often we are tempted, quite unconsciously, to identify faith and feeling. This always short-circuits faith, and, though we enjoy the emotional intensity, such an identification of faith and feeling often precludes the permanent fidelity of a mature faith commitment. Couples, for whom the honeymoon is long past, know, live, and act from a depth of love, mutual trust--and a more mature emotional caring for one another--devel-oped over years. In the hit Broadway musical "Les Miserables," Jean Valjean, the central obvious Christ figure, promises to care for the daughter of the dying and poverty-stricken Fantine with these words: "I swear this on my life." This promise cuts far below any momentary surge of emotion. And the beautiful climax of the show reveals Valjean's fidelity to this promise through a great variety of chal-lenges. Mature adult believers know the challenge and the blessing of acting what they believe, and acting it as if they felt what now, as a matter of fact, they are not feel-ing. This faith-filled acting is always blessed over time with an emotional fervor which, at certain times, in God's mysterious loving ways with us, seems absent and lost. A Presence in Faith A lack of accustomed satisfaction and felt closeness to God in our prayer and ordinary devotions when accom-panied by a lively desire, on our part, not only to be with God but also to serve the justice of the Risen Jesus in our world, reveals finally a clear message of divine endearment for us. Beyond the realm of graced emotional intimacy lies a presence in faith sometimes too deep for words, but Review for Religious more trustworthy and dependable than the fluctuations of graced feeling in our relationship. This is often a rather new land for many of us. It is a land where God is always with us inviting our trust. It is a land where our identity, satisfaction, and fire for generous service most deeply and personally reside. A spiritual staleness, when insightfully investigated, is always an invitation, never a rejection--an invitation to greater intimacy with God, whose love in the Risen Jesus is serving us, at every moment, in a more charming fash-ion than we could ever fully realize before we die. Couldn't You Return? You came to be with us. From strips of linen to strips of linen, swaddling to shroud, You began and ended as the least of us, a man martyred in a power game you wouldn't play. Now we must put ourselves where You can find us, with the least, the last, the lost: children of the homeless, pawns of politicians, those religion oppresses. Dear manger-born, martyr-torn One, we are small again today. Couldn't you return now? Bonnie Thurston 137 66.2 2007 A. PAUL DOMINIC The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises ignatian insights "It is relatively easy to live a life of clarity.and peace if you take yourself on retreat to a moun-taintop. But how do we bring the fruits of that stillness and clarity into the rush of the modern world?" The question is raised by a travel writer about his writings taking on a spiritual tone.l How much more would St. Ignatius have been seized with such a question in relation to the Spiritual Exercises! Given his thoroughness, he would have left his own answer to it. The last of the formal exercises, the Contemplation to attain love.would seem that answer. But after it come "three methods of praying" (§§238-260).2 Lowly compared with the Contemplation, they too may serve to carry the fervor and glow of the Spiritual Exercises into the prosaic and profane chores of daily living. A. Paid .Dominis SJ last wrote for us in early 2005. His address remains c/0 Missionaries of the Poor; Fatima Nagar; Warangal 505 004; India. Re'vie'~ for Religious . Prayer after the Thirty-Day Retreat This thought impressed me more and more as I sought to understand the place of the unsung "three methods" in the whole ensemble of the Exercises. The first method is four modes of examining our conscience; the second and third are ways of praying orally. The question of these methods in the overall progress of the Spiritual Exercises came to me in a practical way as I planned a course of meditation and prayer for a group of novices whom I had directed some months earlier in the full Exercises. I asked the novice mistress if the three methods of praying would satisfy her expectation. However she envisaged it, it was clear to me that, to do anything really useful for her nov-ices, I had to teach them to pray as people who had made the full Exercises more or less well according to the mea-sure of grace given them by the Lord. I do not remember having heard anything special about the three methods from the "specialists" with whom I had either made the Exercises or studied them. An exception was the unassuming, unlearned specialist my own novice master, who after the long retreat kept us novices praying for some days using the three methods, in the best tradition of the Exercises (§256), though with-out explaining why. That tradition is worth discovering, recovering, and pondering. The Three Methods as Part of the Exercises First, as the various methods of meditation and con-templation are part and parcel of the full Exercises, so are all three methods of prayer without exception, though not in the same way. All appear in their proper order. Meditation comes in the First Week of the Exercises and contemplation runs through the remaining Weeks, the three methods emerging towards the end of the full Exercises. They are clearly and cleverly appended to the [139 66.2 2007 Dominic ¯ The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises 1401 Fourth Week. What is more, the three methods form an "inclusion" with the early sentence that defines and explains the phrase "spiritual exercises" (§§238 & 4). Polanco's witness is consistent with this in letter and spirit; he says: "The Fourth Week is completed when he [the exercitant] is judged to have made sufficient progress in the exercises on the resurrection and on enkindling the love of God, as well as the methods of prayer.''3 Of course, The threeme ho'dS lend themselv, es~to.different levels of exercising and experienCihg them, the three methods may be detached and used for those who go through the partial Exercises restricted to the First Week alone (§ 18). That only suggests and emphasizes that the three methods lend them-selves to different levels of exercising and experi-encing them. The level at which the exercitants will ben-efit to the full, however, is when they make use of them as the last part of the full Exercises of roughly one month. Such an understanding is in accordance with what has been called the circular nature of the Exercises.4 The idea of circularity, I believe, implies that the principles and practices with which the Exercises begin run all through the Exercises with an ever greater intensification and leave their effect even afterwards. That is to say, the aim is the same in the beginning and the end; in the beginning it is present at least as an urgent desire, and at the end, hope-fully, it finds its actualization. Thus, for example, though no one can begin the Exercises without some magnanim-ity and generosity toward God as expressed in offering God one's entire will and liberty (§5), no one is expected to make the offering of the Sume et suscipe (Take and receive) right at the beginning, but only after a month Review for Religious of maturation, with or without struggle, climaxing in the Contemplation to attain love (§§230-237), a part of the finale of the Exercises. In the same way, if the three meth-ods of prayer (examen and vocal prayer) are practiced at the beginning, they ought to provide the exercitants a far greater relish and perfection at the end, with no abrupt ending, but rather a continuation. How that happens is the matter for consideration now. The First Method The first method of prayer (§§238-248) appears to be at first sight a plain and simple examination of conscience, making use of various headings: laws (decalogue) or gifts (three powers of the soul and five senses) or related topics (capital sins). Given the usual emotional perception of most people, the examination of conscience does not pass for prayer. But in the Exercises it is out-and-out prayer, albeit of a particular kind; St. Ignatius mentions it first in his list of prayer exercises (§1). No doubt a conscientious examina-tion yields an account of our soul during a certain period of time, but not all on our own; it involves attentiveness to God's presence from start to finish, and so it qualifies as prayer. It begins with gratefulness for God's benefits and asking for grace to know our general ingratitude or our unfaithfulness in a particular matter; it is followed by asking God's pardon and receiving grace to do better (§43). This prayer practice of the examen twice daily all through the Exercises is deepened towards the end by the first method of prayer, engaging the exercitants with focused soul-searching under the guidance of the Lord, who has sought and found and accompanied them for as long as a month. This argument gains further force from the fact that, like the other methods of prayer in the Exercises, the first method has its bwn assigned subject matter: the ten commandments, for example, to focus the prayer of 141 66.2 2007 Dominic * The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises interior purgation. This prayer leads us to beg first for a complete understanding of the commandments as expres-sions of God's good pleasure (well enunciated in the first two modes of humility, §§165-166) soas to arrive at a greater recognition of one's failures and the correspond-ing need of forgiveness. The aim is "to keep them [the commandments] better for greater glory and praise of the Divine Majesty" (§240). If anything, the expression Divine Majesty suggests the awesome holiness of God (the mysterium tremendum) and calls for our correspond-ing reverence. To this must be added what may not be so apparent. For Ignatius, the designation "Divine Majesty" also invites devout retreatants' more personal approach to God, resulting from God's winning presence and initiative as mysterium fascinans.S Those who have felt such reality in the Spiritual Exercises are bound to respond with repentance and rev-erential love worthy of our God of majesty of love. The plaintive prayer of the converted soul--"Against you, you alone, have I sinned; O wash me more and more from my guilt and cleanse me from my sin" (Ps 5I:2,4, Grail)mis not for just a moment or occasion. Although the purga-tive way of the First Week leads on to the illuminative way of the Second and the unitive way of the Third and Fourth Weeks, the exercitant is never beyond the purifi-cation that is ever refreshing and re-creative. Indeed, it is those who have experienced the illuminative and unitive ways who appreciate all the more the need to get rid of even the least sin or imperfection. The first method of prayer, with its varied subject matter listed by Ignatius and added to by ourselves, wonderfully meets the never ending need of exercitants who have learned discernment in the Exercises. The first method of prayer is, then, not only "a com-plete examen"6 that keeps exercitants from slipping back; Review for Religious it is also an aid to progress. For example, bringing the five senses to this method, we do not stop with mere examina-tion of ourselves, but go beyond it. Intent on doing some-thing more, we pass on to the imitation of Jesus and his mother in their use of the senses. Ignatius mentions this explicitly. "He thereby recalls the exercitants' attention to their strivings during the last Three Weeks to behold, observe, and contemplate either Christ, the model of all perfections, or those holy persons whose life most faith-fully mirrored Christ's perfections, in order that they may learn from this how to perform all their actions more perfectly, day after day.''7 The Second Method The second method of prayer consists in contemplat-ing the meaning of each word of a familiar prayer such as the Our Father. I wonder if there has been much serious appreciation of the explicit Ignatian directive to conclude all daily examens, meditations, and contemplations in the Exercises with the Our Father. Anyway, those who have been faithful to Ignatius in this small detail will have an occasion now to discover its sense and intrinsic usefulness, and so come to pray it better with greater understanding and relish. In this second method, Ignatius offers a way to find depth in set routine prayer. It happens not by reflecting on but contemplating the meaning (significaci6n) of each word of the Our Father or other vocal prayers used in the triple colloquies. Contemplating the words of a prayer is certainly something new at this point. It consists in opening ourselves to the "meanings, comparisons, relish, and consolations connected with it" (§252). It is a matter of sensing and entering the evocative aura of each word. Coathalem has spoken of this as penetrating, assimilating, and tasting each word.s Though this method is new at this 66.2 2007 Dominic ¯ The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises 144 point, still it is not unlike what has transpired all through the contemplations of the Exercises as the exercitants lis-tened to the words uttered by the persons in the scene. Anyway, in the second method of prayer, exercitants contemplate as their own words the words of a traditional prayer they know by heart. In their devotion they may go on to recognize and appreciate the words as hallowed because of the hitherto unsuspected personal import they have. They may become sensitive to the human words now bringing them unction from God, along with God's embrace and the grace to give God better service (§15). The words have been given to them by none other than the Spirit (see Rm 8:26). Thus privileged and engrossed, the exercitants make bold at the end to ask for whatever virtues and graces they feel greater need of (§257). This is a colloquy in the usual terminology of the Exercises. But, according to Peters, its purpose and its way are markedly different from the col-loquies mentioned throughout the Exercises. Given the second method of prayer as not only a contemplation but a high contemplation--shown by the person practicing it being called not the exercitant but the "contemplant" or contemplator (persona que contempla, who enjoys devo-tion, relish, and consolation, §§254, 252)9--the needs here are greater than any experienced earlier. Peters argues: "One would think that the exercitant had been taken into the seventh heaven, that he did not lack anything at all. Evidently, at the height of contemplation, he feels more than ever his own insufficiency; he realizes how he falls short in virtue and is in dire need of special help. Close union with God goes hand in hand with a profound sense of one's own unworthiness and even helplessness.''1° In other words, even as we are delighted immensely by the nearness of God, we are distressed by the spec-tacle of our own sinwall the more disturbing because of Review for Religious the .contrast. In this situation, reminiscent of Paul and his visions (see 2 Co 12:2-9), what need could be greater than overcoming the lingering failings that frustrate our desire to be united with God? While experiencing such a need, the praying exercitant descends into silence, and the silence speaks louder, and there is no need for many words. As Peters points out, Ignatius directs the exercitant to ask en pocaspalabras, that is, in a few words (§257). The Third Method The third method of prayer is simply an inward reci-tation of a known prayer, slowly synchronizing each word with one's respiration. Since this method uses the same material for prayer as . the previous one, a natural way to under-stand it suggests itself. .~ The third method is a repetition of the sec-ond, in the spirit of what Ignatius consis-tently advocates for every meditation or contemplation. 11 We come to savor ever more what we have already prayed more than once. The whole exercise unfolds and rests in contemplative peace, poise, and relish. If each word of prayer is uttered with the breath, it rises from silence and ends in greater silence of repose. It is the receptive silence of the human word answering the penetrative silence of the divine Word or Spirit and turning into silence of communion, as when a drop of water falls into a sponge (§335)--that is a simile, coming from the unpoetic St. Ignatius himself. In this way, whatever word keeps us praying and imbibing The third method is a r~etition of the second, in the spirit of what Ignatius consistently advocates for every meditation or contemplation. 66.2 2007 Dominic ¯ The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises becomes more and more part of ourselves; the very prayer makes a home in those who pray. Whoever prays thus not only prays but becomes the prayer by virtue of one's very breath. Anyone who has reached the stage of the third method of prayer knows how "to join the praying man to the breathing man, or more accurately the other way about: take the breathing man that he is and gently make him into a praying man as well.''12 Whether directing our attention to the word's meaning or the person addressed or our own lowliness (§258), we are inhaling and exhal-ing rapt in contemplation of the divine in and around ourselves. 146 The Three Methods as "Repetitions" The three methods taken together provide three perspectives on the full Exercises. First, they appear as concluding repetitions of the entire month of Exercises. Right from the First Week (§§62&64), Ignatius directs and insists that individual exercises be repeated once or twice or thrice so that the exercitant may reap ever greater fruit from them. The three methods he proposes towards the end of the Exercises may well be viewed as repeti-tions, not of one or another exercise, but of the whole of the Exercises as orie-prolonged prayer experience. If the Exercises as a whole aim at removing all dis-ordered affections and so ordering our life according to God's will, the first method finds its place as a compre-hensive examen. It brings the daily examens to comple-tion, shaping a greater, more sensitive response to what must have been grace upon grace for a month (§238).13 If the subject matter of the second and third methods is mostly the vocal prayers that conclude contemplations of the mysteries of the Son, these methods together certainly provide ready repetitions of the manifold experience of the Second, Third, and Fourth Weeks. Such repetitions Review for Religious will be at once evocative and expansive, delightful and deepening, looking back and looking forward. The Three Methods as "Review" The three methods may be viewed in terms of another typical Ignatian practice too, namely, the review following every meditation or contemplation. As there is no spe-cifically mentioned last exercise in the Exercises, there is no specific reminder to review it. Another closely related fact worth thinking about is that, though there is no specified last exercise, there is a concluding tempo. This tempo may be observed right at the start of the Fourth Week, with the omission of the midnight contemplation and the reduction of the daily exercises from five to four. Whatever happens after the exercises of the resurrection in the Fourth Week definitely concerns the retreat's final days. The lack of detailed direction may well suggest the importance of the very content available for those days. While the Contemplation to attain love revolves round grateful love to the God of all gifts, the three methods of praye~ aim at exciting the same kind of response to God all holy and all loving, in and through Jesus. Viewed thus, they cannot but lead the .exercitants over all they have done in the preceding long period of grace, resulting in an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love. Come to think of it, all who have faithfully reviewed their meditations and contemplations four or five times daily ought to have learned and could not but have learned the dynamism of review for their spiritual practice. And so they are likely to hold on to the same dynamism as, rather reluctantly or not, they finish their retreat. Almost all retreatants, even those who have not been fervent enough all along, would, I believe, wish near the end that the retreat would not end. How much more, then, might the enthusiastic exercitants miss those days of 147 66.2 2007 Dominic ¯ The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises fervor. But such a feeling is not altogether a true conso-lation, and discerning exercitants would avoid it, sensing that their real consolation is in God and God's pleasure. They know that the period of grace and consolation must end, not abruptly, though, but gradually and gently. In this situation the three methods as review of the whole Exercises can help. To appreciate this, remember that the ordinary reviews of meditation or contemplation during the retreat bring the exercitant slowly from prayerful absorption to the ordinary activities of eating, drinking, resting, and so forth which we cannot do without.~4 Given devout per-sons' absorption in God at the end of the Exercises, there is all the more need for them to pass smoothly from the retreat to ordinary engagement and activity outside the retreat. This very need is filled by the three methods serv-ing as review of the whole course of the Exercises. The Three Methods as Reformation Corresponding to the "gradual lessening of bonds with the four preceding Weeks" evinced by the three methods, there emerges "an ever-increasing occupation with the duties of the exercitant's normal life.''~5 Though St. Ignatius does not say anything so explicit, his entire exercises are directed to that, namely, leaving the retreat and beginning our life anew as we have discerned God inspiring us. The genuine exercitants cannot but be con-cerned positively and negatively about their life after the retreat. Negatively, they may be anxious about the uncertainties of daily life after the peaceful certainty of the Exercises. Positively, they may be zealous to live for the glory of God. In this struggle between leaving Tabor and returning to their trade, the three methods bring a stabilizing sobriety. The first method of prayer helps their still weak selves to remain steadfast. The second and Review for Religious third methods, with their peculiar combination of famil-iar words and a fresh interiorizing of them, sustain and nourish their trustfulness by disposing them to receive the lights and consolations of God's love and grace.16 The conviction grows that the God of the Exercises will be their God after the Exercises. Thus they ready themselves to take up again the humdrum of day-to-day life with the zeal of a contemplative. It should be no surprise if their enchantment with God enhances their enchantment with the world they return to. Passing through the in-between period, the exercitants exercise themselves in faith, hope, and love, not from any nostalgia for the month gone by, but with a simple examination of conscience or with age-old prayers prayed contemplatively,j7 If the main value of whatever is done during the Exercises is "for living a Christian life after the Exercises are completed,''18 as Jules Toner says, this living clearly stems from the Exercises and is confirmed as the retreat's last days and hours run their course. St. Ignatius says something very practical in his directive for the three methods: before entering prayer one should recollect oneself in spirit, either sitting or ambling up and down, and consider where one is going and for what (§239). On the face of it there is nothing special here, but one familiar with the spiritual genius of Ignatius may discover something more. If the instruction here under consideration corresponds to the usual second additional direction (§§74-76 & 131), it nevertheless differs from it in its advocacy of recollection and suggestion of suitable posture (sitting or walking) different, from before. From this, one may suspect that the regularity of the Exercises is giving way to ordinary life, as Peters argues clearly and cleverly before concluding: "The pattern of the Four Weeks has completely gone, and yet the retreat itself con-tinues under totally different circumstances.''j9 There is .149 66.2 2007 Dominic * Tbe Finesse at tbe Finisb of tbe Exercises There can be intense Chris tian !i iyg without constant prayer: I50] no better way of envisaging how one ideally passes from the time of the retreat to the time after, neither needing nor wanting an exit. There are convincing reasons here that retreats last indefinitely, there being no last exercise prescribed as such by St. Ignatius. Since the Exercises train people in profound prayer over a long period, they surely will want to continue it even in, or in spite of, their changed circumstances after-wards. There can be no intense Christian living without constant prayer (see 1 Th 5:17). The third method trains the exercitant in such prayer. If it does not have the pre-ludes of the usual Ignatian meditation or contempla-tion, the reason would seem to be that it is done in the midst of a busy life. It can and ought to be done any-where and anytime for any length of time, directed always by discreet charity. If the prayer of the Exercises has grown all along through a regimen of do's and don'ts, it can now dispense with them all. The contemplatively trained exercitant can rejoice to find God in all circumstances and enter into silent collo-quy as constant as breathing. So, depending on the grace of the moment, the third method can be as simple "as a spirit of recollection floating, as it were, upon the rhythm of one's breathing"; and it can also be--here Peters is per-fect-- as profound as reliving the Exercises "to the extent of their being integrated into the quiet and tranquillity of one's breathing.''2° If earlier the exercitants went by the principle of sensing and savoring much in prayer rather than knowing ever more (§2), now they ought to have arrived at a new principle: "Brief time and bounteous con-solation!" Review for Religious The whole of life after the Exercises may be expressed as continuing the reforming of our life (§189). One may find this confirmed by what St. Ignatius designed for his young men after their noviceship, which included the long retreat. Besides attending Mass, they were to spend no more than an hour in prayer. The prayer was to include first the examen twice a day and next reciting the Office of Our Lady,21 both of which cotild certainly be done fol-lowing the three methods. St. Ignatius writes, echoing St. Thomas Aquinas, "In the midst of actions and studies, the mind can be lifted to God; and by means of this directing everything to the divine service, everything is prayer.''= Obviously for Ignatius formal prayer, like everything else in our life, must be not for itself but for God, as is well expressed in the unchanging preparatory prayer of every exercise (§46). That constitutes the sublime fruit of the Spiritual Exercises. The exercitant desires to persevere in it after the Exercises. For this the single-minded exercitant needs noth-ing more than the three methods of praying that are at once simple and sublime. When no surprise sublimity of the Spirit is manifestly active, we are to be content with the ready-made prayer that the vocal prayers are, know-ing that they come to our breath because of the Spirit's breathing in us. The Ending Finesse The three methods are perhaps like the performance of the circus artiste Philippe Petit. He had walked on a high wire between the towers of the World Trade Center in August 1974. Some time afterwards, on a much lower high wire between two "towers" in a circus in New Haven, Philippe walked and jumped and danced playfully, mak-ing it look easy. But more surprising was the ending. He began walking down a wire from one of the towers to the 151 66.2 2007 Do~ninic * The Finesse at the Finish of the Exercises ground. This was not easy. "Attention as well as tension grew and all kept their eyes on his outstretched arms. Everyone was so engrossed in his act that no one real-ized that for five seconds Philippe had been walking on the safe floor. Only after he himself looked down to the floor with a puzzled face and then up to the stands with happily surprised eyes did the tension break and everyone explode into roaring applause.''23 The applause seemed to be no less for walking on the circus floor than performing on the high wire--no less than when we managed to walk for the first time. If the thirty-day retreat is a feat, its success lies in making the days following it no less a feat and a feast to boot. The three methods help in accomplishing this. Notes ' Pico Iyer to a columnist. See Pradeep Sebastian, "In Autumn Radiance," The Hindu Literary Review, 5 November 2006, p. 6. 2 Such numbers in parentheses refer to the paragraph numbers in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. 3 See Martin E. Palmer, On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of l Y99 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 126 (emphasis added). 4 See Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1988), pp. 155-156, 327-330. 5 See William A.M. Pet~s, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: Exposition and Interprdtat~on (Rome: CIS, 1980), pp. 51-52. 6 Jos~ Calveras, Th~ Harvest-Field of the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius (Bombay: St. Xavier's College, 1949), p. 251. 7 Calveras, Harvest-Field, p. 252 (with a change of singular to plu-ral). 8 See Herv~ Coathalem, Ignatian Insights (Taichung, Taiwan: Kuangchi Press, 1971), p. 235. 9 This does not appear so clearly in English translations: The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius by George E. Ganss (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1993) or by Louis J. Puhl (Bombay: St Paul Publications, 1965). ,0 Peters, Exercises: Exposition, p. 175. Review for Religious ~t See Calveras, Harvest-Field, p. 248. ~2 Peters, Exercises: Exposition, p. 177. 13 Taking the cue from the comment of Calveras as found in Ganss, Spiritual Exercises, p. 186, n. 127. t4 See Peters, Exercises: Exposition, pp. 41-42, 178. ,s Peters, Exercises: Exposition, p. 179 (though he excludes the first method here). 16 See Calveras, Harvest-Field, pp. 245,249. 17 See Calveras, Harvest-Field, pp. 245-246. ~8 Jules J. Toner, A Commentary on St. Ignatius' Rules for the Discernment of Spirits (Anand: GSP, 1982), p. 39. 19 Peters, Exercises: Exposition, p. 172. 20 Peters, Exercises: Exposition, p. 179. 21 See The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, trans. George E. Ganss (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), §342. 22 See Constitutions, trans. Ganss, p. 183, n. 4. ,3 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Donald P. McNeill, and Douglas A. Morrison, Compassion (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1982), p. 77. In Impressione Ss. Stigmatum S. Francisci wings and wood, fire and air and the pain goes right through it is harder to bear, Francis told a brother, "than any martyrdom. I am not speaking of the reward, but only of the intensity of suffering it causes" (Thomas of Celano, Vita Prima S. Francisci, ii, 7). love into blood, blood into love and the pain goes right through Sean Kinsella 66.2 2007 DAVID L. FLEMING "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving 1541 One of the key phrases capturing the charism of Ignatian spirituality is "to love and to serve in all things." In Ignatius's Spanish it reads "en todo amary ser-vir." The phrase is used in describing the grace we pray for in the prayer exercise the Contemplation on the Love of God, the final exercise within the Spiritual Exercises. Ignatius lets us know how he is considering the verb, to love, by his prenote of two points in this exercise. He tells us that love is shown more in deeds than in words in the first point. Then in the second point he says that people in love share what each has with the other. The Ignatian Spanish word we translate in English as "to share" is comunicar. And so in a paradoxical way, though Ignatius does say deeds express true love more than words, he goes on to say that what lovers do for each other speaks or communicates love. David L. Fleming SJ delivered this presentation as a keynote address for the first Ignatian Spirituality Conference for Asia, held in Hong Kong from November 24 to 27, 2006, with the theme "Finding God in the 21st Century." His address is 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, Missouri 63 I08. Revie'w for Religious Although Ignatius helps us in some way to appreciate his understanding of to love, I do not find him as helpful in letting us know what he might mean by to serve. It is true that we find some thirty-nine uses of the words ser-vice or to serve in the Exercises, but we do not find a kind of definition. If we can cite some seventy times a form of the word service being used in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, we still are left to imagine what the word itself means for Ignatius. I want to explore with you this notion of Ignatian service. Ignatius the Mystic Ignatius Loyola is numbered among the great Spanish mystics of the 16th century. Although he did not reflect in writing on his mystical experiences in the way that Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross did, Ignatius takes his place with his own spiritual legacy alongside these two great Carmelite mystics. A most important mystical experience for an under-standing of Ignatian spirituality happens to Ignatius in 1537 as he is journeying to Rome with his companions in order that they might offer themselves to the pope for his missioning. Ignatius makes reference to this vision in his Autobiography §96, but he does not expand on it. He makes even a more passing reference to it in his Spiritual Diary when he writes, "i recalled the day when the Father placed me with the Son" (§22, 23 February 1544). At a shrine at La Storta, Ignatius received an extraordinary response to his novena-like prayer to Mary, "Place me with your Son." Ignatius describes his experience in these words: "He experienced such a change in his soul and saw so clearly that God the Father placed him with Christ his Son that he would not dare doubt it--that God the Father had placed him with his Son." In the "seeing" (Ignatius's 155 66.2 2007 Fleming ¯ "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving vision), Jesus was carrying his cross. The Father addresses Ignatius and says, "I shall be favorable to you at Rome." Then the Father turns tO Jesus, who is carrying his cross, . and makes this request: "I want you to take this man to serve us." Jesus, with his cross in hand, looks at Ignatius and says, "We want you to serve us." The vision is an obvious answer to Ignatius's prayer to Mary. He is con-firmed in his being placed with Jesus. But the placement is made with Jesus in action--Jesus carrying his cross. This vision becomes an icon of Ignatian spirituality. The vision is about Ignatian service. A Spirituality of Service Ignatian spirituality, always identified as an active spirituality, finds expression in the phrase "to serve." Many commentators on Ignatius have noted that the you in Jesus' invitation to Ignatius "We want you to serve us" is plural. You would ~opnras~s~'-e~' --- e~"~-e . seem to point not only in . 0" roe,. '~i to Ignatius but also to all the people who find life in Ignatian spiritu-ality. As we try to live Ignatian spirituality, we want to be a people who serve. We are moved, then, to ask what does service or to serve mean in Ignatian spirituality? Does Ignatius help us to understand what service might include? Is it confined to tasks performed or work accomplished? Is service always about a project or jobs? Is service restricted to certain kinds of actions or deeds? I am suggesting that we might follow Ignatius in some of his experiences as recorded in his Autobiography to see a R~iew for Religious development in his own life about what it means to serve. Then we might return to the Exercises themselves tO see how Ignatius incorporates an openness to God's invitation to serve the Kingdom. Ignatius's Experience The young Ignatius was a man of great ambition. He was one who could dream of doing great deeds, being recognized for signal service in the service of a king, and perhaps by glorious accomplishments he might win the hand of a noble lady. The cannonball in the siege of the city Pamplona by the French forces against the Spanish shattered not only Ignatius's leg but also his dreams. During his long recovery at the family castle of Loyola, he had only two books--a Life of Christ by Ludolph of Saxony and the legendary .tales about many saints by Voragine--to fill his reading time. But through these two books Ignatius's dreams returned, only to be fired by the challenge to do glorious deeds like the saints, glorious deeds in the service of Christ, his king. Although service was still caught up in glorious deeds and accomplishments, Ignatius also found himself listening to the still, small voice of God calling within him. Little by little, he began to pay attention to the different spirits that stirred inside him, some leaving him to feel sad and desolate and others giving him joy. He began to under-stand a language of God through a process of. discerning these spirits. He would spend long hours gazing at the stars in the skry, and felt within himself a great drawing to serve the Lord. In the midst of his dreams, he asked him-self what was it that he really desired to do. As an answer, Ignatius felt that the content of his dreaming was to be a pilgrim, one going to the Holy Land where Jesus lived. Ignatius at this time represents all those first aposdes called by Jesus in the Gospels. He is like the fishermen 66.2 2007 Fleming ¯ "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving Peter and Andrew, James and John, and like the tax collec-tor Matthew, who heard Jesus say "follow" and they did. A!though Ignatius still harbored his idea of great deeds, at this moment of recovery at Loyola castle, he knew only that he wanted to follow Jesus, and somehow this follow-ing seemed to lead him to the land called "holy" because Jesus was born and died there. He wanted to be identified with Jesus. That would be service enough, and perhaps he could help souls. "Following" is a way of serving. But it is not so much our doing some deeds as it is an active passivity on our part, just to let someone take the lead and we come behind. But, for the apostles in the Gospels and for Ignatius at Loyola, the first form of his newfound service of Jesus is just to follow, wherever he may lead. Manresa becomes another stage in Ignatius's growth in understanding service. At Manresa, through a long and sometimes zigzag forming by the grace of God, Ignatius becomes available, available to go wherever God may lead him. At Manresa, Ignatius was initially self-determining his way of serving Christ. He set himself some seven hours of prayer each day. He fixed on his way of getting God's grace by a total fast. A major temptation was phrased in the question: How will you be able to endure this life for the seventy years you have to live (Auto §20)? When he was beset by debilitating scruples, he correctly took all the human means he could to rid himself of them. But finally he had to cry. out to God for help only God could give. In a dramatic image of being a child, Ignatius tells God that however God wants to work with him, he, a grown man, would chase after a puppy dog if that is how God would give him a healing remedy (Auto §23). Immediately he reflects that God was at this time treating him like a schoolmaster with a pupil. Why was God teaching him Review for Religious this way, he asks. Because of the strong desire that God himself had given him to serve him (Auto §27). Manresa became the schoolhouse where Ignatius began to learn that serving is not focused on our own predetermined efforts. To serve God means first of all to be available to God's direction and grace. God is the master, the teacher, and we are the disciples, the learners. To bring home the fact that God is the director, Ignatius recounts five special mysti-cal experiences--all of them pointing towards an under-standing or grasp of the deepest of faith realities: God of serving Christ. as Trinity, creation as worked by God, the Eucharistic presence of Jesus, Christ and Mary in their holy human-ness, and finally insights into spiritual matters as well as matters of faith and scholarship (Auto §§28-30). God was making Ignatius his disciple, a person available to God. For Ignatius, to be available is to serve. He would reflect this stance particularly in the attitude of the third class of people in the exercise "The Three Types of People," in the Exercises. As Ignatius moves to the next phase--the pilgrimage to Jerusalem--he opens another door which leads to a notion of serving. He discovers through many experiences of being the pilgrim that a way of serving comes from faith--believing and trusting. Whether it be with the use of money (prudently having some or not), or with the choice of boat (going with the bigger and better outfitted one or not), or with weather at sea (cold and stormy or beset by pirate ships), or with church authority (allowing or not allowing his stay in Jerusalem), Ignatius came to a realization that believing God and believing in God and Ignatius was initially self-determining his way 66.2 2007 Fleming ¯ "Here I Am". Ignatian Ways of Serving trusting God and trusting in God was to serve God. This understanding of seryi.'ng is reflected in Ignatius's contem-plative approach to the Gospels. When Ignatius determines that studies were impor-tant for carrying out his desire to serve God and others, he slowly moves to another stage of serving. Although it is at Salamanca that he evidences his desire to have companions with him in service, the realization of this desire will have its fruition during the time of his stud-ies in Paris. There it was that Francis Xavier and Peter Faber and four others form the nucleus of the "friends in the Lord." Whether it is the call of Christ coming to every person to be with and to work with Christ reflected in the Call of the King exercise in the Spiritual Exercises that inspires Ignatius to seek to serve in relationship with others, we can only infer. ¯ But, whatever the stimulus, we see another stage in Ignatius's own growth in understanding and practicing service. To serve is to be in relationship with others. It is to accompany and to be accompanied. This is the root foundation for the Company of Jesus, the Jesuits, ones who call themselves companions of Christ and so companions with one another. The service of the Society of Jesus mirrors always men-in-companionship, not the individual aposde. Ignatian service historically is people working together because of their working with Christ. I believe that Ignatius's growth in understanding ser-vice came out of his experiences which we have pointed out through the citing of certain incidents recorded in his Autobiography. Ignatius reflected upon his experience in terms of being helpful to others, and the result was his writing of the Spiritual Exercises. The Exercises, then, I believe, become a summation of what Ignatian service is. Let us look more closely at the Exercises. Review for Religious The Evidence from the Exercises What Ignatius discovered and what he hands on to us is that God is the One who first serves. This is the vision that Ignatius shares with us in the Principle and Foundation and in the Contemplation on the Love of God. Ignatius begins his Principle and Foundation state-ment with the catechism-like answer to the unspoken question "why did God make us?" Ignatius writes: God creates human beings to praise, reverence, and serve God, and thereby save their souls. Ignatius goes on to say that God gifts human beings with all their personal talents and presents everything in creation as gifts to help them to come to know, love, and serve God. Our human response is to choose among the many gifts which ones help us in our direction towards life-with-God forever. God is the first to serve us by gifting us with an abundance of gifts so that we can make the choice among them which ones better help us seek and find God. Ignatius makes his approach eminently clear in the final exercise, the Contemplation on the Love of God-- what I call the "other bookend" of the Exercises similar to the Principle and Foundation. We are praying for the grace to be empowered to love and to serve in all the .ways that God does. All four points outlined by Ignatius are pictures of God serving us. Of course, by his prenote on love, Ignatius has prepared us to see that God shows his love in deeds--in all the ways that God continues to serve us. These deeds, these giftings, speak out and com-municate to us how much God loves us. In loving us, God is the first to serve. As directors, not as first-time retreatants, we are aware that the vision pieces that mark the beginning and end of the full Spiritual Exercises are about a God who gifts, a God who loves, and a God who serves. In every way God communicates his love for us and so serves us. If God 161 66.2 2007 Fleming ¯ "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving is the first to serve, then how better can we learn what service means than by perceiving all the ways that God communicates his love for us by his deeds--all of which are meant to speak. Just as there has been a tradition of the four points of the Contemplation on the Love of God being a rtsum6 of the Four Weeks of the Exercises, so we might review some aspects of the Four Weeks to obtain, perhaps, a better grasp of how God serves, with the result that we might learn to serve. I am selecting a few key images that speak of ways of serving. In the First Week, we might turn our eyes to Jesus nailed to the cross as we are asked to image him in the colloquy in the first exercise. When we are caught in wonder that Jesus, being the Word made flesh, the Word in whom all things are created, is being crucified, we are open to hearing his response to us as a part of our prayer conversation. Jesus would tell us that his hanging on the cross is a way of his serving. Moved by love of God his Father and focused in his love for each of us, his brothers and sisters, he gives himself over to us, holding noth-ing back, even allowing us to put him to death. Sin in our lives is the way that we keep trying to pot him to death. But Jesus waits for us, Jesus' arms are held wide to embrace us, Jesus offers us his forgiveness. How does Jesus (God) serve us? Jesus serves us by his patience, by his ever-present welcome, by his words of forgiveness. Jesus loves and so he serves. In the Second Week, we might look at and listen to Christ issuing his call to every man, woman, and child today. The exercise is called the Call of the King. This is the risen Christ, the one who is still busy about the king-dom to come. This Jesus personally invites each one of us to be with him and to work with him. God's kingdom will come, the victory is assured in Jesus' resurrection, Review for Religious and life forever with God is our realizable goal. How does Jesus (God) serve us? Jesus serves us by calling us to an intimacy with him, but being with Jesus is not enough. Jesus serves us by asking us to work alongside him as together we serve the kingdom. Jesus loves us so much that he wants us to be _~ right alongside him as we act together in our work for the kingdom. Just as Jesus' being caught up in love of God his Father has him serving just by being with him, so too our being with Jesus models this divine intimacy--essential to all other forms of serving. In our eagerness to work as our form of ser-vice, we often forget that service of God demands a loving relationship with God. In the Third Week, we are struck by the first exercise as imaging service in a special way. In his points for the Last Supper contemplation, Ignatius highlights the pas-chal meal context, the washing of the disciples' feet by Jesus, and the Eucharist as the greatest mark of his love. The paschal meal is a liturgical context in which Jesus, known as the Lamb of God, will bring to a fulfillment the Mosaic celebration so that it becomes a celebration of a new covenant "in my blood." Jesus serves us by entering us into the liturgical celebration of the covenant between God and humankind. Celebrating liturgy, then, is a way of serving. In washing his disciples' feet, Jesus clearly identifies himself as teacher and wants to expand their understand-ing. He wants, above all, to broaden their understanding of what it means to serve. Jesus is not asking them to fix their attention on one action of a good deed done to We often forget that service of God demands a loving relationship with God. 163 66.2 20O7 Fleming * "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving understand service. He has them first of all reflect on the One who serves. Created in God's image, just like the eternal Son, our very being is realized in our being people who serve. In challenging their understanding, Jesus is exploding whatever restrictions these first apostles and then all of us later ones humanly use to limit our notion of service. When Jesus institutes the Eucharist as the greatest mark of his love, Jesus again shows his love by his deed. The Eucharist is the ever-making-present total gift of self that the risen Jesus continuously makes to his Father and to us. The actuality of the event of the cross, limited in time and in space, receives its "now" reality and meaning in every celebration of the Eucharist--the greatest mark of Jesus' love. Jesus is forever giving over himself to us. Jesus shows us that service is embedded in surrender, a giving over of self, with nothing ever held back. In the Fourth Week, once again it is the first exercise that is most suggestive of our drinking in ways of serving. The first exercise is the appearance of the risen Jesus to Mary, his mother. Ignatius dismisses the fact that there is no scripture passage to support this contemplation by claiming that Scripture says that there are other appear-ances and that we have understanding. By having us con-template the risen J~sus appearing to his mother, Ignatius brings home to us the newness of the risen life and the change in relationship that it necessarily entails. Jesus' intimacy with Mary his mother, before his resurrection at a level incomprehensible to us, is taken to another, wholly unimaginable, level at this resurrection time. This Jesus, whose risen body knows no natural, physical boundar-ies, meets his mother in an intimacy that can only be described with explosive joy. Jesus shares with his mother the joy of the resurrection as his way of se]'ving. Mary, then, becomes our key to something of the newness of Review for Religious our relationship with the risen Jesus. We experience Jesus' way of serving us sometimes by this gift of joy, at other times by his gift of consolation. In joy and in consolation, we feel a oneness with the Lord that leaves us faltering in our language to describe our experience. This brings us back to our two "bookends" of the Exercises, the Principle and Foundation and the Contemplation on the Love of God. We realize now more fully that the phrase "to love and to serve in all things" has a necessary proper sequence. To love comes before to serve. With Ignatian insight, loving always is the root and foundation of serving. If we love, then we will be serving people. Ignatius sees that God loves, and so God is the first to serve. As he has experienced God in his own life, he has come to a wholly new way of under-standing service--a transformation of the great deeds and accomplishments that made up so much of his dreams. God has taught him, and now he knows that by drinking in God's actions, by watching Jesus in the Gospels, he has expanded his notion of service and has taken in its breadth, its length, its height, and its depth. Ignatius writes into the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus the richness of this understanding of service. Some would complain that the Jesuit order has little specifica- ¯ tion for its mission. Although the Formula of the Institute (like the basic Rule of a religious order) does describe the mission of the Jesuits, we Jesuits must confess that it does not so much restrict our activities as open up many doors to the needs of our world. The Key of Helping A part of Ignatius's first insight into the service of following Christ never left him. The Spanish verb ayu-dar, meaning to help, is the kernel of all Ignatian service. Ignatius always wanted "to help souls." His Exercises 66.2 2007 Fleming ¯ "Here I Am": Ignatian Ways of Serving are written to be a help first for the director and then through the director for the retreatant. Consistently Ignatius urges the director of the retreat to use or not use material on the basis of whether it is "helpful" for the one making the retreat. In terms of the special vow of obedience of the professed Jesuit, the mission was to be determined by the pope, who saw where the need was greatest and, as a result, the Jesuits could be of greater "help." "To help" is hardly an exalted notion of service. It does not conjure up great deeds and accomplishments. But it is a way of serving as God serves. What have we learned about Ignatian service? First, by looking at God, who is the first to serve, we begin to learn about service. Second, from God, we learn that love is the foundation and love is the stimulus for ser-vice. Love is expressed in deeds--in acts of service--more than in words. And yet our service should speak out and communicate the love that is at its source. Third, service cannot be restricted to certain actions or deeds, to certain results or accomplishments. From Jesus and the Gospels, we learn that to follow is to serve, to be available is to serve, to believe and to trust is to serve, to accompany is to serve, to forgive and to be compassionate is to serve, and to celebrate the Eucharist is to serve. We also learn to serve is always to share what we have been given. That is why serving always follows upon loving--because lovers share their gifts. After our explorations of this idea of service, we find that Ignatius again leads us to the grace that we prayed for in the Contemplation on the Love of God. We pray for the grace that we might be empowered "to love and to serve in everything," "en todo amary servir." Our ways of serving will be as rich and deep as our ways of loving. We are acting with God. We are God's servants. We stand ready and willing. We say: Here I am. I want to serve. Review for Religious Reflection Questions 1. How do I define or describe what it means to serve as a Christian? Do I find myself making changes in my thinking as I reflect on the Ignatian ways of serving? 2. "God is the first to serve." What has been my experience of God serving me? Prayer Mantra Lord, teach me to be generous. Teach me to serve you as you deserve. The Christ of Psalm 19 Champion. Waking to his strength and the morning's grace he seizes the radiant sun as it sets out on its way, and runs, runs and leaps, clasping it joyously to his breast. The light f!lls him, glows from his hands, haloes his footsteps, shines in his exultant laughter. Climbing, bounding across the sky, he spreads lavishly the beneficent light to mirror his heart's fire. Kate Martin OSC 66.2 2007 experiencing prayer RICK MALLOY Prayer Is a Risk ¯ 168] At a community meeting when I was a Jesuit nov-ice, someone asked our provincial about the big-gest problem he faced. His blunt answer startled me: "Jesuits not praying." As novices, our lives were so structured that not praying was impos-sible. After the novitiate I learned, painfully at times, that the demands of the apostolic works easily crowd out the time for prayer (although I always seem to find the ten minutes to catch Jay Leno's monologue). Why is it so difficult to engage in prayer, contemplative prayer? We know that many people pray, that prayer is something we as Catholic Christians ought to do, and we hear that prayer can change things. But many of us are conflicted and confused when we go to pray. Does God really respond to our prayers? Does God really listen to, or care about, what we say? If we prayed some other way, or Rick Malloy sJ is professor of anthropology at St. Joseph's University; 261City Avenue; Merion Station, Pennsylvania 19066. Review for Religious prayed more regularly and faithfully, would we be better people? Can our praying make the world a better place? In our age, which tends to elevate activism to ethereal heights, would our time not be better spent serving the poor or doing something for somebody in need? Would God not be interested more in our doing something "worthwhile" than in our sitting in silence and trying not to pay attention to the random thoughts rumbling end-lessly around in our heads? And when we get right down to it, do we all not ask ourselves sometimes, "Does prayer really work? Does prayer really do anything?" The way to move forward and avoid getting lost in the flurries such questions generate is to realize that prayer is a risk. There is no science of prayer. Just as you cannot prove sci-entifically the worth or effects of real love, the day in and day out lov-ing and caring and living with other persons, you cannot prove the worth of prayer, the practice of paying attention to God day in, day out. If we could prove prayer's value scientifically, it would not be prayer. Pyayer is a risk because it is a lifelong, life-changing act of faith. The word "believe" comes from the German belieben, meaning "to belove." Prayer is all about the risks involved in loving. Much of our reluctance and resistance to pray is in our fear that God might really respond to us. On one hand, we fear God will not take us seriously. On the other hand, we are afraid that God may take us very seriously, as seriously as we take ourselves and our loved ones. Prayer is a risk because the God who calls us to conversion and Much of our reluctance and resistance to pray is in our fear that God might really respond to us. !169 66.2 2007 Malloy ¯ Prayer Is a Risk 1701 change takes us up on the invitation to get involved in our lives. VChen that happens the adventure begins. To be Catholic is to be aware of our call to great trans-formations, transforming us over our lifetime into persons incorporated into the reality of God--the promise made to us all, that we may "come to share in the divine nature" (2 P 1:4, NAB). Our personal transformations are part of larger cosmic processes: the transformation of all human history and all creation (Rm 8:21) into the coming king-dom of God, where God will be "all in all" (1 Co 15:28). Right at the beginning of Lumen gentium, the great docu-ment of Vatican Council II that describes what the church is and ought to be, we are told what Catholicism is all about. God's plan is "to dignify men and women with a participation in his own divine life" (LG §2). This is not some radical, unorthodox, crazy, Jesuit spin on spirituality. Back in the early days of the church, St. Athanasius said the same thing I am saying here: "For the Son of God became man so that we might become God" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §460). Prayer makes us aware of, and committed to, this transformation in Christ. Risk comes in refusing to cooperate in the offered transforma-tions. There is also risk in yielding to the transformation, freely accepting who and what God is making of us and our lives. Prayer Is Relational. MI prayer is relational. By pray-ing, we relate to God, our God who loves us passionately, consistently, challengingly. When we truly relate to any-one we love, we may be called to change. The parent who loves a child suffering from cystic fibrosis changes in many ways. The son or daughter loving an aging mother or father makes many unexpected life changes. Such changes always call us to deeper, more active love. Knowing that extreme poverty in Africa can be alleviated changes one who prays about it. Witness Bono and the ONE campaign Review for Religious to eradicate extreme poverty (www.one.org). When we pray we risk changing and being changed. Prayer may make us know that we need to change. Prayer may make us able to change things, from addictions to relationships to social problems. Prayer may make us willing and able to do something for God and others we never imagined doing. Prayer is relational because we relate to God on both personal and communal levels of reality. We never pray alone. Always, and in all ways, we ourselves and someone else are involved. As soon as we try to pray, God takes us up on our effort. Prayer is neither a competition nor a goal-oriented activity. To try to pray is to already have "won." Prayer is much _ __ more like making love, or hitting a baseball, or learning to play a musical instrument (even loudly and badly) than it is like getting a promotion, or achieving a goal, or mas-tering a skill. Prayer is more like floating on water than paddling strenuously to get somewhere. Prayer is more "letting go" than "holding on." Prayer is a journey on which we are simply "there" while paradoxically always being "on the road." Prayer is allowing our lives to be har-monized. Prayer is getting our lives and loves in order, and prayer is inviting God's ordering of our loves and lives. We are all being divinized. Pray-ers know this truth. To be aware of and cooperate with divinization takes work. Real prayer is work; it is spirituality that is disciplined as Catholicism is disciplined. We find ourselves recognizing that consolation is not always comfortable, and desolation is not always disagreeable. Being disciplined about prayer is essential and beneficial just as regular physical exercise Prayer is the effort to consciously experience God. 171 66.2 2007 Malloy ¯ Prayer Is a Risk 172 gets and keeps our bodies in shape. The more in shape we are spiritually, the more we are likely to realize and recog-nize God in our lives. Prayer is the effort to consciously experience God. Praying is consciously paying attention to the central relationships of our lives, with ourselves, with others, and with God. Our relationship with God is the one that makes all these other relationships possible. With conscious attention to our relationship with God, we find whispers of God's presence in the other relation-ships of our lives. We speak to God in prayer, and the word God speaks back is our life. Prayer is paying attention to what is really real. Prayer is not just finding God in all things. It is more than that. Prayer is seeking God in all realities, realities that were, are, and are to come. Our heart's awareness of God and God's ways of divinizing is evident in how we make choices. At the moral level, prayer leads us to wisdom and cor-rec~ choosing. When I was a little kid, in wintertime my mother used to dress us up in those bulky blue snowsuits that made us look like midget Michelin men. She would let me and my siblings out along with the dog. As soon as I was out in the snow, I would reach down and grab a mittenful of the cold, delicious snow and begin to eat. My mom would yell, "Ricky, don't eat the yellow snow!" Prayer is learning what is, and is not, "yellow snow." What is not good for us is whatever frustrates and foils our trans-formation in Christ. For serious pray-ers, life becomes a series of exercises for discerning in God what we truly and deeply desire. Such holy desires reveal God's will for us, and prayer, mediates the grace that helps us choose what we deeply desire and thus make the right choices. Prayer, practiced regularly and faithfully, can become the pivotal center of our daily lives, keeping us on plan and focused. Prayer, even engaged in sporadically and Review for Religious frenetically, is valuable. Annie Lamott, one of the most refreshing if iconoclastic contemporary writers on prayer, says the two best prayers are "Thank you" and "Help." How to Pray. Prayer does not have to be elaborate to be the stream carrying us through life to life eternal. There are many ways of praying: prayers of petition (probably the most common form of prayer), Mass each day, the Liturgy of the Hours, daily spiritual reading, sys-tematically and slowly working one's way through various books of the Bible, reading beforehand the readings for the upcoming Sunday, the rosary, Eucharistic adoration, the utterly simple practice of centering prayer. These are all valid ways to pray. Prayer groups are helpful for many people. Choose freely what you find agreeable. No one stays with a prayer practice they find tedious and frus-trating. Experiment with unconventional methods that make use of and stimulate the imagination. See a movie with Jesus, write someone a letter while in prayer mode, create a dialogue with the Holy Spirit, draw pictures for God. The imagination is the arena where we can often most powerfully experience God. Ignatian contemplation of gospel scenes is a tried and true example of using our graced imagination in prayer. Prayer Guides. Many have traversed the paths through the forest of prayer. Do not feel you have to reinve'nt the wheel. For the beginner, Jesuit Mark Thibodeaux's Armchair Mystic is an excellent book. Pushing Jesuit works on prayer may seem too much like I am pushing the fam-ily business, but anyone who knows about free and flee-ing spirituality will agree that anything by Tony DeMello sJ is worth reading and pondering. Franciscan Richard Rohr's amazingly brief and deceptively simple Everything Belongs is the best book on prayer I have ever read. Rohr orients the 2 lst-century person to what prayer is and can be. The Cloud of Unknowing is a classic on prayer and is 66.2 2007 Malloy * Prayer Is a Risk 174 the inspiration for the contemporary Trappist method of Centering Prayer. Annie Lamott's Traveling Mercies is a wild zany take on everything from prayer to writing to parenting to eating disorders. Kurtz and Ketcham's Spirituality of Imperfection is a real jewel. There are many more good books one can read. Magazines like America and Commonweal are excellent sources and guides for spir-itual reading. The Internet, where so many young adults spend their reading time, offers great sites like the Irish Jesuits' "Sacred Space" (http://www.sacredspace.ie) to ori-ent you in prayer. What Does Prayer Do? Ultimately the practice of real and consistent prayer changes our desires. When we find ourselves wanting what God wants, we are in right relationship with God, and that is the experience of jus-tice on the personal level. Prayer practiced over time will lead us through the process that the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius aim to elicit. Prayer will free us from, free us for, and free us to be with. This means free from all that frustrates our transformation in Christ, from addictions to personality faults; free for service and the righting of relationships on many levels, which ultimately denotes social justice for all; free to be with God as the Holy Spirit transforms us in Christ, and thus free to be our deepest, truest selves in relation with others. Real prayer is about deep transformation and everyday mysticism; it is not some kind of magic or tawdry grace. Prayer does not do anything if we do not pray. I go to the gym three times a week, once a year. The results, or lack thereof, are rather predictable. Regular, consistent, committed prayer is worth the effort, but we never know it until we do it. That means going ahead and taking the risk. Then we can authentically urge others to follow our example. Review for Religious Reflection Questions for Personal and Group Use 1. In view of the title of this article, do I feel that I am risking anything when I pray? 2. What has been the most helpful insight about praying that Malloy has offered to me? 3. In trying to help another person in their prayer life, what two or three points would I want to share? Ubi est mors victoria tua? (1 Corinthians 15:55) Who is this jealous Lover, leaving to any Shylock his pound or two of.flesh, but coming himself and claiming ALL? Who, this unknown Knower, sounding the yearning depths of hearts that run, pursued, from that Encounter (frightful!) which ends at some strange Jacob's-ladder dream (or game)? See: the brand burns deep! No doubts remain; the claim is made; the stake is driven. Take, Lord, receive. (What did Ignatius say?) All is yours, now. Agnes Cunningham SSCM 175" 66.2 2007 JAMES W. KINN Beginning Contemplation according to John of the Cross 176 SDt. John of the Cross deserves the title Mystical octor. His writings are profound and original. He is without parallel in his rich content and brilliant teach-ing on the mystical life. To many, however, his writings seem almost opaque. They include tedious repetitions, disproportionate emphases, misplaced material, unwieldy sentences, and imprecise language. For example, John often speaks of "this night" without specifying the active night of sense, the active night of spirit, the passive night of sense, or the passive night of spirit. We can determine what night he means only by careful study of the con-text. Spiritual writers who interpret John often confuse his meaning instead of clarifying it because they mix the nights indiscriminately. The focus of this article is quite narrow: it centers on John's description of the beginning of contemplation. James W. Kinn is a retired priest of the Chicago Archdiocese. This article is a further development of his book Contemplation 2000: St John of the Cross for Today (Saint Bede's Publications, 1997). He can be addressed 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. . Review for Religious First we will try to clarify his mystical teaching on the dark night as the actual beginning of infused contempla-tion. Then we will describe his practical advice for pray-ing this way. John treats this beginning of contemplation especially in his Dark Night, Books I and II. Spiritual writers agree with John of the Cross about the general description of contemplative prayer. They see contemplation as an integral -- development of prayer. That is, ¯ mental prayer exhibits a natu-ral progression from discursive mental prayer to more affective prayer to simpler prayei" and then to more passive prayer, in which God takes over our prayer in contemplation. Writers agree that the beginning of contemplation is generally dark and gentle; the first experiences are so subtle and tenuous that we hardly know what is occurring. Writers also agree with John on the three essential characteristics of infused contemplation: (1) in contem-plation we have some vague experience of God as present within us; (2) this direct contact with God is general and dark in the beginning; it is not accompanied by images or distinct notions, but consists of a simple and dark intuition; (3) we receive the experience passively, not as a result of our own efforts. We cannot obtain it, retain it, or recall it. We no longer meditate by means of ideas, images, or affections. John's Teaching on the Beginning of Contemplation The Dark Night, Book I, is titled "a treatise on the passive night of the senses." John says, "this dark night signifies . . . purgative contemplation.''l The memory, understanding, and will are dark and empty. That is, just as actual night leaves our eyes dark and unable to func- 177 66.2 2007 Kinn ¯ Beginning Contemplation according to John of the Cross tion, so dark contemplation leaves our memory, under-standing, and will dark and unable to function. And John calls this the night of the senses because "at this time God does not communicate himself through the senses as he did before . . . but begins to communicate himself through pure spirit by an act of simple contemplation, in which there is no discursive succession of thought.''2 This night of the senses consists essentially in our inability to meditate, becaus~.e all our natural faculties (memory, intellect, wi!l.,.-affections) are now darkened. This very inabilityAs'the necessary condition for the new form of prayer that God is beginning to bestow. John insists that this new way of prayer is properly called con-templation: A person should not mind if the operations of his fac-ulties are being lost to him; he ought to desire rather that this be done quickly so that he may be no obstacle to the operation of the infused contemplation which God is bestowing., and make room in his spirit for the enkindling and burning of love that this dark and secret contemplation bears and communicates to his soul. For contemplation is .nothing else than a secret and peaceful and loving inflow of God) John wants us to know that this dark prayer is actually the beginning of contemplation: This food is the beginning of a contemplation that is dark and dry to the senses . Now in this state of contemplation, when the soul has left discursive medi-tation and entered the state of proficients, it is God who works in it .At this time a person's own efforts are of no avail.4 That is, this prayer is not just a period of transition between meditation and contemplation nor a proximate prepara-tion for contemplation; rather it is the very beginning of contemplation: "At the time of the aridities of this sensory night, God [withdraws] the soul from the life of the senses Review for Religious and [places] it in that of the spirit that is, he brings it from meditation to contemplation--where the soul no longer has the power to work or meditate with its faculties on the things of God.''s He teaches that this is actually something new in the soul, a new experience; it is not simply a deep-ening of what has gone before, not just a continuation and further simplifying of meditation. We have seen our own personal activity in meditation become more simple and even reduced to nothing. The old world of our senses and intellectual ideas is now remote and useless. We no lon-ger meditate by means of ideas, images, or affections. Now God begins to act, though darkly. God almost impercepti-bly infuses himself into our soul and awakens a new level of awareness. This is the actual beginning of contemplation. We experience this night of contemplation as darkness, because we have only an undefined intimation of God's presence. The experience itself is ineffable, for it is void of any intermediary of sense or image. The critical point, which John of the Cross often repeats, is that this dark, pas-sive, and simple form of prayer is truly contemplation: In this state of contemplation, when the soul has left discursive meditation and entered the state of profi-cients, it is God who works in it. He therefore binds the interior faculties and leaves no support in the intel-lect, nor satisfaction in the will, nor remembrance in the memory. At this time God does not communi-cate himself through the senses as he did before., but begins to communicate himself through pure spirit by an act of simple contemplation, in which there is no discursive succession of thought. John takes great care in repeating just what this begin-ning of contemplation consists in, because it is not what most people understand it to be. They hear about more advanced forms of contemplation such as raptures, ecsta-sies, and visions. They do not understand that those are not at all the experiences at the beginning of contempla- 179 66.2 2007 Kinn ¯ Beginning Contemplation according to John of the Cross tion. They do not realize that their natural progression of prayer from meditation to affective prayer to simpler prayer leads them to this very next step. They see their own personal activity reduced to nothing; their reflec-tions, personal affections, and quiet insights have mostly disappeared; God no longer seems to touch them through ideas, images, or affections. They find themselves in front of a wall without any satisfying thoughts and they wonder, "Where did I go wrong?" John wants us to know that this troubling development is not a dead end, not a wall at all. It is actually the natural development of our prayer and the necessary condition for God to act in us in a new way.7 As long as we filled our minds with all our rational ideas, images, reasoning, . and affections, there was no room for a new and infused way of experiencing God. Only when we admit that all our rational efforts can take us no farther do we willingly let God take over and let ourselves be peaceful and atten-tive in that dark night. Then God begins to act and show his presence, though obscurely. God almost imperceptibly infuses himself into our soul and awakens us to a new level of awareness. God opens a new door for us. At first we experience this as darkness because the experience itself is so subtle and elusive. In addition, we have no words to describe it; we use words such as "know, see, feel, sense, perceive, touch," but they are not adequate to express how we experience God now; they are only metaphors or analogies. The experience itself is ineffable, for it is void of any intermediaries of sense or image. But this direct inflow of God is actually the beginning of contemplation. Over a period of time, this new way of experiencing God will gradually reach some degree of clarity. Only little by little does this gleam in the night seem closer and some-what distinct. God only increases his light according to our ability and our faithfulness in this way. Review for Religious How to Pray in the Beginning of Contemplation What is John of the Cross's advice for those who can no longer meditate and are beginning contemplation? Fortunately, he is entirely clear and simple: The attitude necessary in the night of sense is to pay no attention to discursive meditation, since this is not the time for it. They should allow the soul to remain in rest and quietude, even though it may seem very obvious to them that they are doing nothing and wasting time. ¯. Through patience and perseverance in prayer, they will be doing a great deal without activity on their part. All that is required of them here is freedom of soul, that they liberate themselves from the impediment and fatigue of ideas and thoughts and care not about think-ing and meditating. They must be content simply with a loving andpeaceful attentiveness to God and live without the concern, without the effort, and without the desire to taste or feel him. These desires disquiet the soul and distract it from the peaceful quiet and sweet idleness of the contemplation which is being communicated to it.s John teaches here that, once we can no longer meditate with sensible images, imaginations, rational thoughts, and affections, we should not continue to struggle with our natural faculties but "remain in rest and quietude" with "a loving and peaceful attentiveness to God." Very simply, we should remain peaceful and attentive in God's presence. Again and again he assures us that the primary agent in this contemplative prayer is God:. The principal agent [now] is God, who secretly and quietly inserts in the soul loving wisdom and knowl-edge, without specific acts . Thus the individual also should proceed only with a loving attention to God, without making specific acts. He .should conduct him-self passively . . . without efforts of his own but with simple, loving awareness.9 That is, all our activity can be summed up in this one 181 66.2 2007 Kinn ¯ Beginning Contemplation according to John of the Cross 182]. word: attentive. Since the natural operations of our intel-lect and will are helpless to attain the direct knowledge of God, all we can do is put them at rest. Only when we put to rest all our sensible ways of knowing will there be room for this direct, infused experience of God. Our whole effort is to remain quiet, peaceful, open, and recep-tive to this new experience. Various metaphors might help to describe our situ-ation in this beginning of contemplation: (1) There is nothing we can do to water this garden; we can no longer even bring up buckets from the well of meditation. We have no control over the rainwater that comes from God's infused contemplation. (2) We need a new way of breath-ing in this rarefied air; only the pure oxygen of God will sustain us at this altitude. (3) We are beyond our ability to swim any more; all we can do is float in the water and wait for God to carry us along. (4) All our efforts cannot open this door to the new experience of God; the most we can do is remove all the obstacles of our mental images and rational thoughts. (5) God is the sun ever shining; he will certainly shine in our soul once it is empty of the clutter of sensible images and natural reasoning. And these same metaphors may help us to be patient in this passive form of prayer--content to be peaceful and atten-tive in God's presence. John wants us to know that, once we no longer have the power to work or meditate with our faculties, God will soon bring us from meditation to contemplation: "As soon as natural things are driven out of the enamored soul, the divine are naturally and supernaturally infused, since there can be no void in nature.''1° Again he repeats his assurance: "Little by little and very soon the divine calm and peace with a wondrous, sublime knowledge of God . . . will be infused into his soul . Learn to be empty of all things--interiorly and exteriorly--and you Review for Religious will behold that I am God.''~1 John's words, "there can be no void in nature," remind us of the familiar experience of opening a can of vacuum-packed coffee; as soon as we puncture the can, the air fills the void with a hiss of air rushing in. The image suggested by John, then, is that, once we have learned to remain in the presence of God peacefully and attentively, God will soon fill this void with an infused sense of his presence and love. Now, if this dark and passive prayer is really the beginning of contemplation, then what is the source of that infused grace? John answers clearly: "The principal agent and guide and mover of souls in this mat-ter [at the beginning of contemplation] is . ¯ . the Holy Spirit. ¯ When the soul frees itself of all things . . . it is impossible that God should fail to do his part by communicating himself to it, at least silently and secretly.''12 That is, instead of relying on our own rational faculties and efforts, John tells us to rely on the infused wisdom of the Holy Spirit, who is "the principal agent and guide and mover" in all of contempla-tive prayer¯ Throughout this dark night, the Holy Spirit continues to infuse this contemplative prayer in our soul: "This communication [of dark contemPlation] is secret and dark to the work of the intellect and the other fac-ulties insofar as these faculties do not acquire it but the Holy Spirit infuses it and puts it in order in the soul." Finally, throughout The Living Flame of Love, John identi-fies the source of further union and transformation of the soul as the Holy Spirit: "This flame of love is the Spirit of its Bridegroom, which is the Holy Spirit.''~4 We have no control over the rainwater that comes from God's infused contemplation. 183 66.2 2007 Kinn ¯ Beginning Contemplation according to John of the Cross I84 So, in this beginning stage of contemplation and in all the stages of contemplation, our singular effort will be to be quiet and attentive. At first, our usual sense of God's presence will be dark and unsatisfying; we will feel weak and empty. Yet this is the only way we can learn not to rely on our rational faculties but only on the Spirit of Jesus. In Scripture, Jesus promised us this "Spirit of Truth" who will "be with you always" (Jn 14:16-17); "he will teach you everything" (Jn 14:26) and "will guide you-to all truth" (Jn !6:13). Certainly this "everything" and "all truth" include this wonderful infused contemplation. We can trust in Jesus' assurance: "How much more will the Father in heaven give the holy Spirit to those who ask him?" (Lk 11:13). One Example of Contemplative Prayer V~hen we reach this dark night of the senses, we can feel lost in our prayer because all our faculties, are dark and all our efforts are useless. Despite the guidance of John of the Cross, we would like to have some example of just how to proceed in this beginning of contemplative prayer. Here is one example. Receive, 0 Lord, my whole freedom--my senses, my imagination, my affections, my reasonings. All these faculties l have received from you. I renounce the use of all of them during this prayer, unless it be according to your will. Grant me only the inspiration of your Spirit, nothing more. Lord, I am content to dwell in this dark night in which all. my faculties are helpless. This dark-ness is my friend, for on!y in this night can your new light become visible; this silence is the.way to wisdom, for only in complete quiet can the gentle voice of

Issue 64.4 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Praying Calling Rehgious Life Perspectives The Spirit QUARTERLY 64.4 2O05 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we ~y to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. 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See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2005 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 hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Catholic S~iri~uali~ eli Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster 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 Steve Erspamer SM Kaddeen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishoi~ Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukerifis CSJ QUARTERLY 64.4 2005 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 355 praying Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation James A. Rafferty details the unique participation of Mary in the Eucharistic sacrifice of Jesus, a proximity to Eucharistic presence that envelops her entire being. Personal Prayer and Group Reflection From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation Ernest E. Larkin OCarm provides a personal account of his study and experience of centering prayer and contemplation and Christian Meditation. Reflection Questions 369 380 calling Rekindling the Fire: Vocation Efforts Sefin D. Sammon FMS writes a letter to his own brothers to encourage practical measures to be adopted for encouraging vocations to religious life. Reflection Questions Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth Leo J. Heriot SDB shares the dream of the young John Bosco that continues to shape the Salesian apostolate and system of education. Review for Religious 386 405 r Oi ious p rspe ivss The Council as Catalyst Elizabeth McDonough OP gives a snapshot picture from her own experience of living religious life in the light of the happening of Vatican Council II. Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney Christian Raab OSB suggests that a monk's vow of stability offers the opportunity to transform one's life instead of becoming stuck in the repetition of daily life. 410 spirit Led by the Spirit: St. Augustine Andrew Ryder SCJ presents the three movements in Augustine's life that are key to understanding his doctrine on the Holy Spirit. 424 429 436 443 Scripture Scope: Mark's Gospel and Jesus' Radical Humanity Canonical Counsel: Canonical Federation Book Reviews Indexes 64.4 200Y prisms Te main character in a popu-lar TV show called "Joan of Arcadia" finds that God speaks to her. God is always surprising her by speaking through quite different people-- sometimes young and at other times old or in-between, sometimes male and at other times female. This young woman is portrayed as a very ordinary person, but her experiences of God seem to set her apart. If we were to be asked where most consistently we experience God, I doubt that many of us would say that we hear God speaking to us. In fact, we tend to be wary of people who hear "voices" or God speaking to them. Yet the God of the Old and New Testaments is a communicator. We identify the scriptures as the word of God. Christian prayer has always been understood as a dialogue, with both God and ourselves speaking and listening to each other. What we are sometimes slow to recog-nize is that God communicates not just in words. In the whole world of creation, God is speaking. Our personal talents, our gifts, our traits tell us that God has loved us personally into existence. People have always found the majesty of God in the surging of the ocean's Review for Religious waves, in the soaring heights of mountain peaks, and in the rosy-fingered morning sun. Certain people coming into our lives make real to us the call, the concern, the compassion of God. Their very presence makes us feel touched by God. We Catholics have always held our saints in great esteem and affection. They continue to touch us with God's presence. We remember our dead because they too, strikingly holy or not, have spoken to us of God's care. We ask for their help because they relate us to God. And so God speaks to us not only in the sacred words of Scripture, but also through people and things and events of our everyday environment. Modern psychology has made us aware that we com-municate through body language. God, too, uses body language to talk to us. Every time we celebrate Christmas we can "hear" what God is saying to us through the baby Jesus. No one is frightened by a baby--seeing no stern judge or a wrathful and punishing monarch. The baby Jesus reaches out and hands himself over to us in great freedom and trust and love. This baby in a manger-- Jesus--is God speaking. The wonder of Christmas brings home to us how, first among all .the other ways of com-municating, God's incarnate Word speaks to us. What we need to observe in a more daily way is the silence of a Christmas night so that we can watch and listen. Perhaps that is our New Year's resolution. David L. Fleming SJ ES. The Review for Religious staff and board mem-bers pray for a holy and blessed Advent and Christmas seasons for all of our readers. 64.4 2005 JAMES A. RAFFERTY Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation praying This reflection looks at the relationship between Mary and the Eucharistic Lord. It attempts to show, in particular, Mary's intimate presence to the Eucharist. As a woman at the center of God's love for all humanity, Mary may properly be identified as Woman of the Eucharist, the title both reverential and affectionate that Pope John Paul employs in his encyclical Ecclesia de Eucharistia. This title is not merely a clever the-ological phrase about Mary symbolizing the entire church by her faith and receptive coop-eration. The title is about Mary's profound spir-itual relationship with her Son. Attuned as no other to the intimate communion deep within the Trinity, Mary singularly understands Jesus' Eucharistic heart as it embraces all humanity in choosing Calvary, where self-surrendering love is displayed in shocking degree. James A. Rafferty, a priest of the Diocese of Scranton, is chaplain and a campus minister at Marywood University; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious More than a theological category or doctrinal for-mulation, Mary, Woman of Eucharist, sings the hymn of one woman's surrender to the divine Love that gently invites people to become more like itself. The sacra-mental Eucharist we celebrate today has its peak expres-sion in the Last Supper that opens the original drama of the paschal mystery, but Jesus' Eucharistic offering is not limited to those hours of his life. Rather, his entire being may be described as Eucharist--sacrificial self-offering emboldened by an enormous gratitude. Mary's life, too, chants her Son's Eucharistic hymn of praise and self-gift long before she accompanies him to the moment when he hands over all that he is on the cross. Eucharistic tones reverberate in Mary's immaculate con-ception, in the annunciation, in her hearing her Son pro-claim the kingdom, in her presence at Calvary, and in her sharing in the Easter glory. The first Eucharistic moment in Mary's life, as in everyone's, is the moment of conception. Like everyone else, Mary receives her unique and unrepeatable iden-tity as nothing other than gift, gift to herself and to the world. Births celebrate the overflowing of love from the Trinity's heart into time and space, letting itself be known in the life of another. Life itself means receiving what we cannot give or produce on our own. This divine gift is always more splendid than cellular interactions and anatomical functions. The Spirit of God breathing into clay sacramentalizes the loving communion of the Creator with the created. Physical existence, even veiled in the womb, announces the divine creative imagination that renders each life sacred by bearing the image and likeness of the Triune God. While every new human life arouses awe and thank-fulness in the presence of this loving gift from God, the humble daughter of Israel has an unprecedented 343 64.4 2005 Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation God creates Mary as one ready to welcome, grace without resistance, Eucharistic glow from her immaculate conception. The child of Anne and Joachim receives from her first instant the totally unmerited gift of being preserved by God from all stain of original sin. God creates Mary as one ready to welcome grace without resistance. Her very dis-position is to seek always what is the delight of her Creator and Lord. In her immaculate heart Mary bows before the tender stirrings of the Spirit of Yahweh. She never lurches away from the Lord in willful-ness. Her submission to God is like the strings of a peerless violin at the touch of a skilled violinist. The instrument exists precisely to give resonance to the master's melody and fill the air with music. The violinist's touch is not subjugation. It frees the instrument to be its fullest self. Mary cooperates wholly in all that God desires for her. We pray during the liturgy for something of her receptivity when we say, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed." Although these words originate in Jesus' encounter with a centurion concerned for his servant's health, the litur-gical context may suggest Zacchaeus, delighted to wel-come Jesus to his home and almost happy at not concealing how much his soul has needed tidying up. As we approach the altar to receive the gift of Jesus' Body and Blood, it seems that Jesus wishes to evoke within us Peter's change of heart: first refusing to let Jesus wash his feet and then eagerly conceding at Jesus' insistence. Again, the Immaculate Conception is a permanent stance of receptivity. We seek that disposition in our own prepa-ration for Communion. Review for Religious The Eucharistic motif appears in Mary's life also in her obscurity and poverty. Her simple, humble existence in a tiny village reflects the Eucharist. There Mary depends utterly on God. Mary experiences a real, not just a romantic, poverty. She feels with all who are poor the realities of hunger, cold, and powerlessness. For her the cry of the poor is not a hypothetical, poetic verse; it echoes her authentic abandonment to the Lord's provi-dence in situations where human efforts do not accom-plish much. There is more here than a passive resolve to endure difficulty and want. Mary finds comfort and assur-ance in a faithful God who has pledged never to aban-don the people he has chosen to be his own. As a woman of actual poverty, Mary relates to God as the provider of her daily needs. She carries within her a practiced confi-dence that God attends to her hunger and thirst, a heart-felt trust that breaks into the praise of the Magnificat. She lives out of the consciousness that it is God who feeds, nourishes, and sustains. Her poverty expresses sol-idarity with every child of the Covenant who awaits God's saving action. Such indomitable hope, passed on across centuries, has been planted deep in Mary's heart. Mary's Eucharistic living is evident in the moment when divinity unites with human flesh at her consent, "Let it be done to me according to your word." The Lord instituted the sacramental Eucharist for us to con-sume and thereby have the divine life pulsing strongly within us. Mary's "yes" to the invitation of God fore-shadows our "amen" at being offered the Eucharist. Amen here means "Yes, I believe it is the Body of Christ, and, yes, I wish to receive it." It is implicitly a consent that the Body of Christ broken, offered, received, and consumed may effect a change in us who partake.of it. As believers we surrender before the mystery in a way similar to Mary's "Let it be done to me." Like Mary at the annun- 64.4 2005 Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation 346 ciation, in the Eucharist we implicitly desire that the Trinity take over our life so that our identity, fused with Jesus himself, lets itself be guided by God the Father. When the angel appears to Mary with the message that she will conceive and bear a son who will be called Son of the Most High, she perceives the compassion radiating from the heart of God. This radiance accom-panies the self-surrender of the God who comes to dwell in flesh. By the grace of the Holy Spirit, Mary is drawn into God's plan, which includes Calvary. In the powerful current of paschal love, she more than anyone else glimpses the yearning of God to heal the rift that sin causes in the relationship between Creator and creature. Every act of God in the salvific economy bears a paschal orientation, and Mary intuits the paschal horizon of God's project. That is, she senses the truth of what she meets in the annunciation--a self-offering Love that knows no limitation. Lacking the vocabulary of Trinitarian theology, Mary nonetheless encounters the Father offering his Son in the power of the Holy Spirit. She experiences deep within her the distinct energies of the Trinitarian per-sons, as if eavesdropping on the dialogue of the Trinity's plan for her. Mary knows, then, a Father sharing his Son with her, and she knows this contemplatively in the depths of her being. Mary's pregnancy does not begin as a mere procedural accomplishment, as valued posses-sions are handed over to faithful friends for safekeeping. Because the Spirit of God fills her, Mary senses the meaning of this act for the Father. The Father is hand-ing over to her, and through her to all humanity, that which is most precious to him, his beloved Son. Mary knows this with her whole being. She knows, too, the Son's active participation in this gift-giving. Before the throne of the Father in heaven, Review for Religious the Son exercises the characteristic obedience that he will manifest in the world even to death. Mary'sfiat opens the path for the eternal Word to enact his incarnation in space and time. The Son exchanges the omnipotence of divine majesty for confinement in the womb of a young woman. The Second Person of the Trinity assumes human nature in its meekest form and progresses accord-ing to the physiological laws of the human condi-tion. Mary, of course, does not, by virtue of her experience of the annun-ciation, have unrestricted access to the mind of God. She remains thor-oughly finite. Like every other human being, she knows only what she can experience. There pre-cisely do we find the glory in the incarnation, the splendid miracle that Mary is the first to perceive--God revealed in human frailty. Mary is present to the moment when the Son clothes himself in the frailty, dependence, poverty, and even death that mark every human life. The words of consecration so familiar in the Eucharistic Prayer are already subtly present at the annunciation. "You will conceive and bear a son." "How can this be?" "The power of the Most High will over-shadow you." It is as if all of creation--a suffering world yearning for the healing that it is helpless to achieve on its own--has been imploring the Holy Spirit, in one great wordless epidesis, to fill the virginal womb with life. And God responds by making himself present in history for children and adults to see, hear, and touch--and be Mary is present to the moment when the Son clothes himself in the ~ailty, dependence, poverty, and even death that mark every human life. 347 64.4 200Y Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation touched by. Mary's response is personal and collective. She speaks on behalf of a wounded race. Generation after generation of messianic hope permeates the Jewish faith. In Mary and others like Anna and Simeon, this hope is not merely a passive waiting and watching. More than that, it is an ever intensifying desire, calling upon God fervently and ceaselessly from amid the welter of the human condition. Here is the imploring epiclesis to which the Father answers in the incarnation of his Son. To this intensification of Jewish prayer may be added the human hearts all over the world humbly defenseless under the weight and the stings of evil. Moved by their sobs and their silence, God intervenes decisively. Through the Holy Spirit and Mary's yes, God's Son becomes present in her womb. This is similar to what occurs in the liturgy. Mary offers herself in conjunction with the cries of a people lost in darkness, and the Holy Spirit completes her offering infinitely by bringing about the presence of Jesus in her womb. The divine love in this human form is Light itself amid earth's darkness. Surrendering himself to the human condition, the Son of God encompasses the human race's sad history in himself. He submits himself to the force of evil that pummels, confuses, and obliterates. At the first moment made possible by Mary's assent, the world begins to hear the Son whisper, "Take this, all of you, and eat it, this is my body; take and drink, this is my blood, given up for you." Mary silently possesses more than an inkling of the self-surrender that God envi-sions. The Son empties himself by taking on human nature, and Mary nourishes humanity's self-sacrificing Savior towards his birth. She and he both anticipate his self-offering on the cross, the offering that rises from burial into resurrection a~l is present each time the Eucharist is celebrated. Mary's praying heart delights in Review for Religious the wonder, adoration, and gratitude with which she accompanies the Child she carries. With maternal love she worships thankfully the Presence within her in a unique Communion. The proclamation of the kingdom of God, too, is redolent of the F~ucharistic. In the Spirit, all grace of whatever form moves human hearts to Communion. People's gifts or fruits of prayer come to naught unless they seek and find some externalization in unity, in Communion. The Spirit is Communio, and all grace drives toward perfect fulfillment in the heavenly ban-quet, the wedding feast of the Lamb, for which the litur-gical sacrifice prepares us. No wonder, then, that the New Testament's Eucharistic imagery appears in the ear-liest moments of Jesus' public ministry. At the Jordan, Jesus, who is without sin, does not accept John's baptism as a gesture of solidarity with weaker brothers and sisters. He is maturely aware of his right relationship with Yahweh. His decision to approach the Baptist, like his acceptance of the cross, manifests publicly the full sur-render to the Father's will that he has made in prayer many times. Here at the Jordan, Jesus offers himself unreservedly to his Father's plan. He pledges himself to the kingdom that John has heralded. In sublime intimacy the Son prays, "Take this, Father, it is yours." He hands over to the Father all that he receives: his body, his energy, his desire, his relationships; his future. At the Jordan, at the proper time, the Son relives on earth his own unseen choice in eternity to become incarnate. His Father accepts his self-offering and blesses it with the epiphany that confirms the beloved Son's identity. As Jesus undertakes his public ministry, right from the beginning he gathers a community from people who have little in common other than their friendship with Jesus and the willingness to risk being in his company. 64.4 200~ Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation Mary playsa role in , this formation of Christ's followers inlto a Eucharistic coinmunityi Jesus does not announce the kingdom as some exhila-rating new ideology or political vision. Rather, he forms relationships and then sees to it that they form rela-tionships with one another. And he gets them sharing in his own relationship, his own communion, with the Father. Today the Eucharistic table is the special place where the Father reaches out to his sons and daughters and where they seek the deep unity among themselves that they find occurs only when God is in their midst. In celebrating the Eucharist, Christians accompany Jesus and attend to his words and actions, and he forms the church in his paschal love just as he did with his first disciples. Mary, Woman of the Eucharist, plays a role in this formation of Christ's followers into a Eucharistic com-munity. Here this does not mean intuitions of their rit-ual participation in the Mass. Rather, it means learning a new way of being loved by God. Their souls are being awakened to tolerate and then to rejoice that Jesus comes not to be served but to serve. The Spirit is slowly instructing them in the language of God's heart, which speaks most eloquently in the silence of Good Friday. But, preparing for that day, Jesus brings his friends and coworkers home with him to Nazareth and to Mary. They have left home and livelihood to stay with him. They are good people, but they carry the soot of the world with them. Their hands and their hearts are stained with the grime of laboring in a world pol-luted by greed, prejudice, dishonesty, violence, and cynicism. Review for Religious As if in a retreat in preparation for the work of the kingdom, the disciples notice the warmth of pure love between Jesus and his mother. The home at Nazareth serves as a chapel of adoration, of deep devotion, where the love that the graced human spirit is capable of becomes visible. In Jesus' relating with Mary, there is no hardness of heart, no defensiveness, no secrecy, no inse-curity. The disciples could not have resisted being affected by the goodness of this mother and this Son. Long before Mary and John's presence on Calvary, Jesus is already drawing his friends into Mary's universal moth-erhood. At the same time, Mary quietly rejoices as she watches the glow of Trinitarian communion dawn in the lives of others. As the church begins to form, Mary joy-fully waits at the center to share what she has received. Eucharistic nuances continue to pervade Mary's dis-cipleship of her Son, especially in her loyal, fearless par-ticipation in his death and resurrection. The full meaning of the Via Crucis opens up before people who contem-plate it with Mary's eyes. Mary's consent to the angel at the annunciation reaches its climax in her yes beneath the cross, where her heart, united with her Son's, is in perfect obedience to the Father. Mary's obedience is not a horrified resignation to the inevitable, nor a resentful passivity in the face of something she desperately wants to alter. Mary cooperates in the sacrifice of Jesus. Indeed, as Jesus struggles toward the altar of the cross, Mary's spirit accompanies him with the prayer that nothing dis-suade him from his g0al. Whatever dark lies, taunts, or tortuous subtleties the tempter hurled at him in Gethsemane, Mary, in luminous contrast, gently urges him not to give up. Her intense love for Jesus cannot wish him to be other than who he is. In her Son's selfless desire to give himself away out of love, amid the hor-rific brutality of Calvary, Mary gazes upon the heart of 64.4 200Y Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation the Trinity revealed in human history. Wondrously graced, she embraces both the incomparable grief of a woman who witnesses her son's execution and the awe of one who witnesses a compassion as vast as God him-self. Jesus gives forth his last breath, every last spark of energy in his being. For humaniv ~'s sake he surrenders to Mary embraces both the incomparable grief of a woman who Witnesses her son's execution and the awe of one: who witnesses a compassion as vast as God himself. the Father all that he has and is, and Mary watches the birth of a New Covenant. In her excruciating sorrow there is an unshak-able joy. What can possibly convey the significance of her tears shed that day? Hers are tears of pain and also over-whelming delight at a mystery so profound it takes an eternity to contemplate it. Mary does not impede or resist the cross of her Son. She lives and moves in the Spirit of the Father who hands over his beloved Son. Mary deeply comprehends the Trinity's sacrificial love. She is the first human being to understand all that the Eucharistic sacrifice entails. Even more incredible, she prays for everyone to have the courage to approach the sacrifice of Jesus and with her to desire its fulfill-ment in a personal assent to Jesus' self-offering. The Eucharist derives its meaning and power from Jesus' pas-sion, death, and resurrection. Mary teaches the church how to adore the Lord at the foot of the cross, where blood and water flowed from the Savior's pierced side. Jesus' disciples, even his closest friends, had to learn of Review for Religious the empty tomb before their despair turned to hope, but Mary is deeply consoled even as she cradles Jesus' lifeless body in her arms. The resurrection and Pentecost show the redeeming power of the paschal mystery. So do present-day Eucharists. They do it not simply because Christ died on the cross, but because he lives now and forever, some-thing our faith knows. Through her deep faith Mary is already disposed for Easter before her risen Son ever appears. For the faithful woman who can see more than loss and emptiness at Calvary, there is more than the silence of the grave. There is a confident communion with the Father, whose unwavering love Mary knows well. Her soul has felt the tender power of the Spirit bringing to birth what human imagination cannot fathom. Mary has learned well to trust in more than what her senses reveal. She is the authentic contemplative, familiar with the Spirit's movement, and it is not a spirit of despair. She remains a mother in those dark hours. She consoles and encourages the confused, disheartened disciples until the Paraclete fills their hearts with the light of Truth and with Pentecostal fire. Deep faith in the Risen One sees more than any eyes can see. It sees that death itself is not the tragic loss it appears to be, but is the last measure of the prelude to the divine oratorio of eternal life. In the Eucharist, too, participants see and hear more than their senses per-ceive. The bread is no longer bread, the wine no longer wine, but the living presence of Jesus Christ, who makes of his members a living communion. It is Mary who leads the church to the Eucharistic Lord. Hers is no mere external presence or observance or performance. She is intimately involved in her Son's love for the world. Her heart comes to us with the Love that overflows the heart of God. 64.4 2005' Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation Sources Pope John Paul II. Encyclical Letter Ecclesia de Eucbaristia. 17 April 2003. Corbon, Jean. Tbe Wellspring of V~ord~ip, trans. Matthew J. O'Connell. New York: Paulist Press, 1988. Reprinted by Wipf and Stock Publishers. Personal Prayer In the context of the Eucharistic celebration, we might take up the following scripture passages for contemplation: Luke 1:26-38 John 19:25-37 Group Reflection In what ways has this article on "Mary, Woman of the Eucharist" opened up new insights and apprecia-tion for the Mass in our daily living? Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation T~nPaper is a bit of narrative theology, something y personal journey over the last twenty-five or thirty years trying to practice meditation and contem-plation. My account begins in midstream of my religious life, in the mid 1970s, with my introduction to centering prayer. Basically the journey has been from centering and centering prayer to Christian Meditation, the prayer discipline of John Main (+1982). Three Ways to the Center First, the point of departure. What do I mean by cen-tering and centering prayer? These .terms have become familiar and clearly defined today. It was not always so. Centering and centering prayer meant different things to different people in the 1960s and 1970s. An example is the article by Thomas E. Clarke sJ in the British journal The Way titled "Finding Grace at the Centre.''1 The title may be familiar, because it named a collection of Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote for us last in July-August 2003. His address is St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation essays on centering prayer published by the Trappists in 1978 and again by Skylight Paths Publishing in 2002. The whole article was reprinted except for the last two pages, which at the time represented one of the chief contributions of the article. So I have a quarrel with the editors for deleting the pages and not indicating they did so. Apparently they wanted to highlight the one form of centering prayer they were espousing in the booklet, and so dropped two other prayer forms that Clarke was presenting as ways to the center. In the article Clarke presented a philo-sophical exposition of centering and then posed the ques-tion: How does one make the journey to the center? His answer was threefold. The first way was classical center-ing prayer, the way of dark faith, which proceeds beyond images and concepts and seeks to rest in the indwelling God. The other two ways to the center used imagination and feelings; they were the prayer of images and fantasy and the practice of the examen of consciousness. All three were ways to the center, ways to dispose the soul for the great gift of contemplation. Together they offered a rich and broadly based prayer life. Teachers of centering prayer should have applauded the connecting of centering prayer with other forms of active prayer. Centering prayer is contemplative in intent, but active in method, as are all forms of meditation. Centering prayer was not supposed to replace lectio div-ina, nor to become one's total prayer life. Centering prayer is a spiritual exercise to deepen one's whole spir-itual life, animating, for example, the liturgy and one's devotions. Connecting the three ways put flesh and blood on centering prayer by acknowledging that imagination and human effort can help in the process of centering. Clarke's paper stated a simple and even obvious fact, Review for Religious namely, that the search for contemplation, especially in beginnings, is not an abstract act; it invokes images and thoughts even while it strives to get beyond them. All three ways converge to the center. This was a welcome reminder in the early days of centering prayer. I remember how the insight thrilled me. I talked about the distinctions with Father John Kane, a Redemptorist, who founded a contemplative house of prayer in Tucson, Arizona. We both agreed that the article was a breakthrough because it made room for the imagination at least in the beginnings of con-templative prayer. The search for contemplation was not restricted to forced abstract search; one did not have to empty the mind. Centering prayer was one way to contemplation and a good way, but it was not the only way. Clarke's article contextualized the search for contemplation and freed it from a one-track pursuit based on theoretical textbook definitions. Before this time I had a philosophically correct but pastorally deficient understanding of contemplation as imageless prayer. I thought "Ignatian contemplation," for example, which consists in reliving a gospel story, was a misnomer; the process was meditation, not con-templation. I did not cotton to Morton Kelsey's thesis that the imagination ruled the prayer practice in the church in the first millennium, and that abstract con-templation in the mode of John of the Cross was Johnny-come- lately in the second millennium. Kelsey argued this position in his popular The Other Side of Silence. To my mind, contemplation had no room for images; they Have we had a philosophically correct but pastorally deficient understanding of contemplation as imageless prayer? 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation belonged to discursive prayer, the way of meditation, which was a lesser species of mental prayer. But here was Tom Clarke connecting the imagination with centering, thereby broadening horizons in contemplative prayer. The three ways of centering were a significant help to me. Two years earlier, in 1975, I had made a thirty-day Ignatian retreat and came away with the resolution to spend an hour each morning in mental prayer. I was faithful to the hour, but I lacked method. My prayer was amorphous. I read and reflected, I pondered, mused, stirred affections, and made resolutions. I also centered and sat for long periods of silence. But there was no particular order in my pondering. After two years of struggle to be faithful to the hour without a clear methodology, my prayer had became dry and difficult. I "white-knuckled" my prayer, holding on to the bench to fill out the hour. All this may have been a species of the determinada determinacion of Teresa of Avila, but it was probably closer to the "zelus sine scientia corruit" of St. Bernard: "Zeal without knowledge destroys." How long could I hold on? Only the grace of God kept me from giving up on the hour. My efforts in the hour were the same as my practice in the two daily periods of formal meditation in my Carmelite community over the years. These two peri-ods were shorter, usually a half hour each, and I was able to handle them, though somewhat haphazardly. Because they were amorphous, I subsequently looked on them disparagingly. I thought I had wasted a lot of time in my mental prayer. I do not think that way now. I have come to take a more benign view. I realize with Woody Allen that ninety-five percent of life as well as of prayer is showing up. If we are there, putting in time with the Lord, the Lord will do the rest. We should not exag-gerate the role of method. Review for Retigious But method helps. The three ways of Tom Clarke supplied a format for my contemplative prayer. I would do twenty minutes of classical centering prayer, twenty minutes of reflection on the day's readings, and then after Mass twenty minutes ofjournaling. I did not char-acterize the imaginative parts of my prayer--the biblical meditation and consciousness examen--as contempla-tive, but I saw them as part of my pursuit of contempla-tion. Moreover, the active prayers gave permission for elements of imagination to enter my centering prayer. At this time I made a study of the prayer of St. Teresa of Avila in her early premystical years to determine how she employed the imagination in her beginning con-templative prayer.2 She later called this "practice of prayer" active recollection. In the paper I argued that the imagination played a significant role in her practice. Her prayer was her own making, hence active in form; but it was contemplative since her whole effort was to rest in the deep personal realization of the Divine Indwelling. This was her whole prayer. Teresa called it "re-presenting Christ within." Commentators sometimes incorrectly interpret this phrase to mean the imagina-tive recall of some mystery in Christ's life, such as of his being scourged at the pillar. The imaginative recall is part of the prayer, but not its heart, since the recall is only the refocusing of the person in moments of wan-dering. The remembrance of an image from the passion serves the same function as the holy word in centering prayer. The holy word does not detract from the con-templative character of centering prayer any more than the image in active recollection. I concluded my paper on Teresa by saying that her prayer was a mixture of imageless and imaged centering prayer. Today I agree that the term centering prayer should be reserved to the prayer of imageless dark faith. 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 3,60 This primary thrust, however, leaves room for some imagination in the practice of this prayer. Teresa's active recollection, which can rightly be called centering prayer, was both apophatic, that is, beyond imagining and thinking, and kataphatic, that is, with a role for the imagination. These insights into Teresa's prayer confirmed Clarke's suggestion and allowed me to accept a minor but real role for the imag-ination in my own practice and theorizing about con-templative prayer. As late as the year 2000, I was still experimenting with a role for the imagination in my contemplative prayer. I was on another long retreat at the Camaldolese monastery at Big Sur in California. For five weeks I prac-ticed Christian Meditation several times each day. I described three different experiences of my contempla-tive prayer in an article in Review for Religious in 2001.3 Two of the patterns I reported engaged the imagination to a small extent. These points about the imagination and contemplation are not irrelevant; they continue to occupy the attention of writers.4 The Move to Christian Meditation The centering and centering prayer so far described were the focus of my efforts at daily mental prayer for some fifteen years. I did not, however, practice it twice daily as was specified by Contemplative Outreach under the leadership of Thomas Keating. The two periods of twenty to thirty minutes, morning and evening, are essential for the discipline of centering prayer. These periods are catalysts for one's prayer life. They are like workouts in a physical-health regimen, and their role is to bring one's life to a deeper level in one's spirit. The outcome is the goal of contemplation in Carmelite terminology. Review for Religious In the mid 1990s I switched my prayer practice to Christian Meditation, a similar but different form of cen-tering developed by John Main, an Irish Benedictine from England. I did so mainly because I was not satisfied with my practice of classical centering prayer. Christian Meditation is promoted by the World Community for Christian Meditation, headed by Laurence Freeman OSB. The major difference between centering prayer and Christian Meditation is the holy word versus the mantra. "Holy word" and "mantra" are not synonyms. Their dif-ference specifies the two forms of contemplative prayer. Christian Meditation repeats the mantra, usually the biblical prayer "ma-ra-na-tha," which means "Come, Lord," from the begin-ning to the end of the prayer. The holy word, on the other hand, is not repeated continu-ously, but only as needed to renew the consent to the Divine Presence. The holy word expresses the will of the person to rest quietly, silently, in the Lord. The mantra, on the other hand, carries the prayer. John Main does not tire of saying that the mantra is the prayer. It creates the silence that is emptiness and open-ness before God, the silence that invites the Divine Presence. The mantra nurtures the beatitude "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). Purity of heart and contemplation are the two hinges of the door of the mantra. The mantra is not magic, but a simple device to shut down ordinary rational activity in favor of silence. How would we explain the major difference between centering prayer and Christian Meditation as the holy word versus the mantra? 361 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 362 Since I switched my daily practice to Christian Meditation ten years ago, I have been faithful to the two times each day. My personal preference for Christian Meditation is not a condemnation of centering prayer; the same fruits and benefits are available in both forms. The choice of one or other of the two disciplines is a personal matter. I feel that centering prayer has a closer affinity with Teresa of Avila than with John of the Cross and that Christian Meditation has a closer affinity with John than with Teresa. I base these opinions on the sim-ilarity between active recollection and centering prayer, and a similarity of absolutes between the nada and the todo in John and the call to kenosis or self-emptying in Christian Meditation. In the final analysis the two approaches are more alike than different. For this reason I have studied them together and emphasized what is common to them. I have published several articles on the two forms, which I hope to gather into a book. The leaders in the two movements work closely together and see their ministries as parallel. One example of this close collaboration is a prayer center in Phoenix called the Cornerstone. It is sponsored by both movements, which share the same space in a former convent in the Carmelite parish of St. Agnes. The Cornerstone offers programs that are sometimes common to both groups and sometimes specific to one of them. It is lay orga-nized and lay directed. The Genius of Christian Meditation I have come to see Christian Meditation as a com-panion piece, a "how to" addition to the teaching of St. John of the Cross on the passage from meditation to contemplation. This area is one of his specialties. He defines in precise terms both meditation and contem-plation and why the transition from one state to the other Review for Religious can be difficult if not traumatic. Meditation for him is a rational activity, the work of the imagination and the discursive reason; it is active and self-directed. Contemplation is passive and receptive of the gift of the love and presence of God. The transition from one state to the other can be disturbing. Beginning contempla-tion may look like a step backward, even total loss. The old way of meditation is no longer appealing or even possible, and the new way of contemplation is not self-evident. The experience is the passive dark night of the senses. It is a great grace, but easily mistaken and open to misunderstanding. John gives his famous three signs to authenticate the state as well as detailed instruction on the conduct to be followed. In discursive meditation one deals with concrete indi-vidual acts, striving to remove the bad ones and to pro-mote good ones. So meditation is analyzing, evaluating, making choices and resolutions. The soul is like a win-dowpane, St. John says, and the work of meditation is to remove the smudges of bad habits and replace them with acts and habits that are bright with the light of Christ. The light of Christ is faith. The window pane is lighted up by faith-motivated activity. Over time the win-dow becomes clear and the soul purified in the matter of concrete choices. The light of faith shines through with fullness, simplicity, and wholeness. This is the light of contemplation. The light is always there, John of the Cross says. It is part of the state of grace. The perception of the light, however, is dependent on being rid of delib-erate sinful habits. John writes as follows: This light is never lacking to the soul, but, because of creature forms and veils that weigh on it and cover it, the light is never infused. If individuals would elimi-nate these impediments and veils and live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit, as we will explain 64.4 200~ Larkin * From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 364 later, their soul in its simplicity and purity would be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom, the Son of God. (Ascent 2.15.4) Thus these graces, when received, are "infused light and love," that is, infused contemplation. The way of con-templation is self-awareness of this new state of being. One simply opens one's eyes and sees and basks in the love and presence of God. At first there will be a going back and forth between meditation and contemplation. John of the Cross gives detailed advice on how to recognize the times for the one or the other, that is, when to continue to meditate and when to rest in the contemplative light and love. His teaching is renowned for its clarity and effectiveness for spiritual direction and retains its place in the life of every budding contemplative. But it is a complicated teaching. Along comes John Main who sees meditation and contemplation in conti-nuity with each other and as one process. The prayer or discipline of Christian Meditation is one dynamic that begins with the mantra and stays with it through multi-ple experiences of God's love. Contemplation is the awareness of Abba's love for me, who am bonded with the Son in the love of the Holy Spirit. The contemplative grows in the appreciation of this love and gets ever more deeply in touch with the knowledge and love that the Tr!nity showers on the world. There is communio, koinonia, participation in the reality of God and his cre-ation. This communion is unitive knowledge, of subject and subject inhering in each other. It is not dualistic knowledge, from the outside, leaving subject and object apart from one another. It is not any particular psycho-logical experience. There is at-oneness, a "common union" or communion, in which the Trinity and the human being enter into what Teresa of Avila called Review for Religious union, namely, "two things becoming one." Communion is the ontological reality; contemplation adds awareness and attention. Not every experience of Christian Meditation is infused contemplation such as John of the Cross has in mind. But every experience is communion and eventually will bring the fullness of contemplation. The commitment to Christian Meditation is a com-mitment to a way of life. The way is always the same; it is the way of the mantra from beginning to end. The goal of the prayer is without limits. One stops saying the mantra only when one is reduced to silence. These are moments of special grace that John of the Cross calls "oblivion" (Living Flame 3.3 5). One resumes saying the mantra as soon as the silence is recognized, because that is the sign that the special mystical grace has passed. John Main's program is one of utter simplicity. He does not stress, though he may acknowledge in theory, the abstract differences between meditation and con-templation or the different degrees of contemplation. But he treats them as one spiritual practice and says explicitly that meditation, meditative prayer, contem-plation, and contemplative prayer are all synonyms. No need to be concerned about essences, he seems to say; the important thing is to grow in purity of heart and recep-tivity to divine grace. The journey is the same in both John of the Cross and John Main, but it is described from different viewpoints. The older John presents objective theology in the manner of the scholastics; the younger John has made the turn to the subject, and his exposition is experiential and practical. Laurence Freeman remarks that John Main's purpose was to start people on the journey and let experience of the prayer teach the rest. The one task proposed is the mantra. The mantra does not deal with obstacles one by one or even supply building blocks for a spiritual edi- 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 566 rice. It silences the mind, emptying it of its contents. The silence makes room for the Spirit to take over. "Be," says John Main," and you are in the Spirit."s The Spirit is already there with Father and Son in the Divine Indwelling. If the soul is silent and receptive, the Spirit will pray there beyond images and thoughts, in sighs too deep for words (Rm 8:26). The Spirit will do this because the soul is open and ready and God wants that mutual indwelling even more than the soul does who is sincerely seeking God. John Main's simple method frees the person so that the presence of the Trinity can come alive and be actualized. When there is space and freedom, the meditator is caught up in the prayer of Jesus. That prayer is the one and only prayer in the world since the Incarnation, because it is the love between Father and Son and envelops all of creation. Faithful meditators are woven into that salvit]c love. The journey with the Son to the Father will traverse the stages of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross. Christian Meditation will be the vehicle, the discipline to get one going and to help one stay on the path. These are astounding claims for Christian Meditation. Their jus-tification is the beatitude "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). The silence of the mantra produces the purity of heart, and the reward of purity of heart is the love of God, of people, and of the world found in the gift of contemplation. How does silence accomplish this twofold task? By allowing one to escape from the false self by placing one beyond the toils of ego and the world it creates, by free-ing one from the imprisonment of false desires. This healing produces purity of heart. The new freedom allows one to go deeper into the spirit, the domain of the Trinity. The reality of this state is primary and comes before awareness and appreciation. The reality is called Review for Religious communio or participation in the life of God; the aware-ness is contemplation. The Spirit will give us contem-plation when we are ready. Contemplation is thus the outcome of faithful prac-tice of the mantra. Contemplation is the life of God received, the backdrop and engine of one's whole spiri-tual life. It is the life that animates one's community rela-tionships, one's ministry, and one's prayer. The short definition is the realization of God's love for us, "the love of God poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who is given us" (Rm 5:5). Contemplation is the outcome of a faithful life. It means claiming what was there from the beginning. It is the Abba experience of Jesus. In his human life Jesus was filled with the Father's presence and love. Certain events like the baptism or the transfiguration were climactic experiences of that love, but Jesus abided in that love always. He looked out upon the world bathed in the Father's love. He was the "beloved Son," and in him the reign of God was estab-lished on the earth. That reign is the kingdom of God's presence and love. It is the resurrection experience. It fills the world with the grandeur of God. Christian Meditation promises this contemplation. Each practice will not necessarily bring forth a recog-nizable, reflexive experience of that love. But every exer-cise will put one a little more in touch with it and will be an experience of communion, of koinonia, of participation in that love. Transformation is taking place, slowly, incre-mentally, and the Christian is being formed in the Wisdom of God, the Son of God, in whom we live and move and have our being. Christian Meditation can indeed be one practical response of meditation and con-templation in our troubled times. 64.4 200Y Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation Notes 1 Way 17 (1977): 12-22. 2 "Teresa of Avila and Centering Prayer," in Carmelite Studies 3 (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1984), pp. 203-209. 3 "An Experience of Christian Meditation," Review for Religious 60 (2001): 419-431. 4 See, for example, Brian V. Johnstone CSSR, "Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation," Review for Religious 63 (2004): 118-133. s John Main: Essential Writings, ed. Laurence Freeman (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2002), p. 105. Reflection Questions 1. In the light of Father Larkin's prayer journey, how would I describe some major moments in my own prayer growth? 2. "The commitment to Christian Meditation is a commit-ment to a way of life." What meaning do I give to this statement? 3. Let Larkin's story elicit a group's sharing about the joys and difficulties of praying. Review for Religious SEAN D. SAMMON Rekindling the Fire: Vocation Efforts Dear Brothers and all who cherish the charism of Marcellin Champagnat, It is early morning here in Rome. The last guests from Saturday evening's vigil celebration of the founder's feast have departed, the house is quiet, and the first hours of a new day are just beginning to unfold. What better time than the dawn of St. Marcellin's day to begin a letter to you about the awakening of vocations to his Little Brothers of Mary. Please join me in this continuing effort, this continuing prayer. Like so many of you, I believe that God continues to move the hearts of young people and call them to a variety of voca-tions within our church. So let us pledge to do our best to foster their generous response, while concentrating our efforts on those called to our way of life and mission as Little Brothers of Mary. After all, our Marist Constitutions and Sefin D. Sammon FMS, superior general of the Marist Brothers, writes again in epistolary form. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. calling 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire Statutes reminds us that to do so is a sign of our vitality as an institute. 3:70 Awakening Vocations Well-designed publications, attractive posters, lively and thoughtful presentations that deal with our life and ministry are all ways of cultivating vocations. They all help young people, their parents, and our church to have a better sense of who we are and what we do, and espe-cially to learn something about what we cherish and hold dear. When all is said and done, however, isn't it actually the lives of thousands of brothers over the almost two-hundred- year history of our institute that are our most effective means to awaken vocations? And so your voca-tional tale and mine are good places to start if we want to understand more fully just what we are trying to do. It does no harm to ask ourselves from time to time what first brought us to the life of a Little Brother of Mary and what keeps us here. My own story began when I met the small group of brothers who staffed the high school I attended in the heart of New York City. Even with the distance of years, I can still remember what it was about those men that captured my imagination and my heart. They were obvi-ously religious people, and they appeared happy in their work together and in their commitment to it. There was a spirit of sacrifice among them that somehow appealed to my adolescent soul. And there was passion. This element is at the heart of any vocation worth its salt. Though I may not have rec-ognized it at the time, I realize now that there were some very passionate men in that small group of brothers. In retrospect I can see that, in their love for Jesus Christ and his Good News and for us their students, they shared with us some of the very qualities that our founder Review for Religious inspired in the young men we know today as Francois, Laurent, Jean-Baptiste, Dominique, and Louis-Marie. Even now I find myself surprised at how subtly God was at work in my life, though I surely would never have used that language when I was fourteen. I have to say that I was blessed early in life to meet those men who took delight in helping a rather uncivi-lized crowd of young men to grow up and grow closer to God. These men--many were young themselves--were willing to waste time on us. Time, it was their only currency, and they shared it with us freely and gen-erously. During the years since then, perhaps in imitation or through the mystery of grace, some of my happiest moments have been with young people, sharing their world, their hopes and dreams, their fears and concerns, their ques-tions of faith. Vocation promotion :should neVer be undertaken solely for survival. Vocations for Mission and Not Survival Vocation promotion should never be .undertaken solely for survival. Nor is it simply a matter of numbers. Numbers are not necessarily a sign of viability, nor is age the best measure of vitality. Our zeal for mission, then, rather than a desire to survive "come what may," must be our reason for awakening vocations. This tradition goes back to Father Champagnat. The ever unfolding tale of our institute records that Marcellin's visit to the bedside of a dying teenager is what persuaded him to found a com-munity of brothers with this aim: to proclaim God's Good News to poor children and young people. We know the story well. Discovering that Jean-Baptiste Mongagne knew ¯ " 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire nothing about his faith, Marcellin instructed him, admin-istered what were then called "the last sacraments," and went on his way. Returning a short while later, he dis-covered that the lad had died. I have often wondered about our founder's thoughts and feelings as he returned home to Lavalla that evening. We can imagine his pace quickening. We know that almost immediately upon his arrival he met Jean-Marie Granjon, who had been a grenadier in Napoleon's army. Picture their conversation taking place on the bridge near what today is the Hermitage. For Marcellin the mission was clear, the reasons for founding a commu-nity of brothers evident. As they talked on that bridge, our founder's passion convinced the former soldier to join him and give his heart to a corporate adventure soon to be known as the Little Brothers of Mary. Marcellin loved the children and young people of his day. More than once he said, "l cannot see children with-out wanting to tell them how much Jesus Christ loves them, and how much I love them." In today's world many children and young people are the victims of war, human trafficking, and the streets. Denied an education and other basic human rights, they are in desperate need of hearing God's Good News. And so, I ask you, do you believe as I do that the mission of our institute is as urgent today as it was in Marcellin's day, and that it will remain so for the foreseeable future? If you do, then let us agree that the awakening of new vocations can no longer be a sideline attraction for you or for me. Instead, we need to develop a plan for promoting vocations and then put that plan into action. A First Set of Challenges A few challenges before we go on. First, a challenge to my brothers in the institute. If you and I want to make Review for Religious vocation promotion a top priority, most if not all of us will need to arrange our other commitments so as to free up twenty percent of our best time for that work. Why twenty percent? Because there is a lot to learn and a great deal of work to be done. We can all beg off, citing good reasons not to get involved. Lack of time, the demands of ministry, age--who among us has not heard that litany before? But, if you and I want a future for the mission and life of our institute, we need to avoid making excuses and, instead, commit ourselves enthusi-astically to promoting vocations. And now a word to my lay partners. I ask you to join us in our efforts to educate parents, the young people in your care and ours, and the church at large about who we Little Brothers of Mary are, what our life is, and what our ministries are. You know us and know what we cher-ish and hold dear. Help others come to know us as you do. And help us, too, by inviting young people to con-sider making our way of life their own. I have no hesi-tation in asking you to give these efforts top priority. All who share our founder's charism should eagerly promote vocations to the brotherhood he established. God's Good News remains to be proclaimed to more children and young people than we might imagine. And what happens if all of us--brothers and lay part-ners alike--decide not to make vocation promotion a major concern and not to give enough time to this impor-tant ministry? What are the consequences? Some would say that a failure to act and act decisively would dimin-ish the probability of a vital and vibrant future for our way of life and ministry. Others would be harsher. If we fail to act, they would tell us, we probably do not deserve a future. In 1822 Marcellin Champagnat faced a vocation cri-sis, the first in the history of our institute. And how did 373 64.4 200~ Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire he respond? By taking action, beginning with his pil-grimage to the chapel of Our Lady of Pity. We do well today to follow his example. Today more than a few peo-ple use the term vocation culture to describe an environ-ment in which a call or vocation can take root and flourish. You and I can foster such a culture by believing that vocations to Marcellin's Little Brothers of Mary exist today and that with God's grace and our human efforts we can find and cultivate them. A Pastoral Plan for Awakening Vocations A pastoral plan to awaken vocations can help us awaken vocations to our way of life and ministry. A num-ber of provinces and districts already have a well- A ,pastoral: p!an to awaken vocations can help Us awaken, vocations to our way of life and ministry: designed plan in place. Time will tell of its effec-tiveness. Other provinces and districts can take time or make time to develop a plan. The plan should be comprehensive and include in its details the province or district, all the mem-bers, each community, and every ministry--and, of course, all the others who share Marcellin's charism and want to help promote vocations. In drawing up any plan, you and I are better off con-centrating on what can be done rather than lamenting things we cannot change. In some parts of the world, for example, families are smaller than in the past, young people have far more vocational options to consider, and they may make their life commitments at a later age. Neither you nor I can do much to alter these realities. We can, though, invite young men to our way of life and ministry once again, and we can open our homes and Review for Religious hearts to them. We can also help them and others to understand all that has happened in religious life and in our institute during the forty years since Vatican Council II. Let us do what we can, and not keep wringing our hands about what we cannot change. In making plans we must be sure they are adapted to the culture in which we live. A universal pastoral plan for vocations is unrealistic. Differences exist between regions, and customs vary. What is quite acceptable in one part of our world is looked upon with suspicion in another. And so I offer below just a few ideas to get your thinking started. Be as creative as you can. And do not forget to include in the plan exactly whatyou plan to do personally. a. Province or District Provinces and districts should have at least one full-time vocation promoter, but everyone should promote vocations. The full-time promoter should help the oth-ers to do what they can. There should be a well-designed program that explains contemporary religious life to lay men and women. Some of our brothers will tell you that they feel shaken by the changes in our way of life during the last four decades. In that case, just imagine how shaken the average Catholic may be. In some countries, for example, people feel betrayed and confused about why we no longer staff the local school and do not live in the brothers' house next to the church. A good program could clarify the reasons behind such changes. It could also show that everyone--the laity, bishops and priests, and men and women religious themselves--has a respon-sibility for recruiting new members for religious con-gregations. Some among these groups appear reluctant to do so. I cannot help believing that such reluctance may stem from a lack of understanding about our life today. Catholic parents deserve special attention. At one 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire 376[ time they were great allies of ours in awakening voca-tions. Today many parents are confused about religious life, about why and how people are still living it. Where their trust has been eroded, we must work to restore it and enlist their aid once again. Our program could include offering an adult educa-tioncourse in a local parish, or as in-service training for faculties in our schools, or as part of parent-teacher con-ferences, or as an Advent or Lenten series. Some could write articles for their parish bulletin or diocesan news-paper. Others could say a few words during or at the end of Mass on Sunday. The means are not quite as impor-tant as the message: our life and mission as brothers is alive and well and ready to receive new members. The work described above could be coordinated by the full-time province vocation promoter. He should not, however, take on these tasks for a local community sim-ply because its members do not want to. His time is bet-ter spent persuading them that the tasks mentioned are rightly theirs and that they have the resources to accom-plish them. Finally, the media and the internet, where avai]able, have great potential to awaken vocations. Where a province web page exists, the vocation pro-moter should make sure that the topic of vocations appears on it and is effectively presented. b. Local Communities Local communities have many opportunities to pro-mote vocations. First of all, though, they should as a group agree to a common plan that ensures that their work will be effective and that nothing will be uselessly duplicated. Prayer must be part of any community's plan. Along with this, three or four times a year a community might invite groups of young people from their school or parish to an open house that is focused on religious life. Such a visit, particularly if it is well planned, can com- Review for Religious municate more about religious life than a series of lec-tures would. Another community might invite parishioners of all ages for a time of prayer, some refreshments, and some friendly conversation, particularly about religious voca-tions. Many people are willing and ready to participate and help, but they need to be asked. A brother's involve-ment in a parish's youth ministry program can be the occasion for young people to learn more about broth-ers and their life. Lay people involved in youth ministry, especially if they know us well, can also raise the topic or answer questions the young may have about religious life. A community might also arrange to print a pamphlet describing our life and mission and place it in the vestibule of the local parish church. In places where the local newspaper or television station does human-inter-est pieces, one or two members of the community could commit themselves to write an article or be interviewed about our life and ministry. c. Our Works Visibility! That should be the yardstick for measur-ing efforts to promote vocations in the institutions where we serve. Posters, pamphlets, days set aside to present the history, life, and mission of the Little Brothers of Mary--all these should be regular fare in any school or social-service project in which we are involved. Our col-leagues and those whom we serve should know clearly just what it means to be one of Marcellin's brothers. While being happily aware that our schools, parishes, and agencies touch others' lives well beyond themselves, we must not overlook those with whom we share min-istry. There may, for example, be lay faculty members in our schools who have given thought, to religious life and our life in particular, but just do not know how to [377 64.4 200Y Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire 378 bring up the subject. We should make sure that oppor-tunities exist to discuss the matter, and that they exist in abundance. d. Each Brother and Lay Partner If you asked me to suggest one thing that you as indi-viduals could do to promote vocations, I would answer immediately: Invite young men that you know to think about making our life and ministry their own. Such an invitation by a brother is the factor mentioned most often by young persons and by those further along in years as well. So I say to my brothers: Awaken vocations, find persons who in good time can replace yourselves. And to my lay partners I say: Awaken vocations so as to ensure a vibrant partnership between brothers and yourselves. Without enough brothers, partnership with you is not possible. To all, I offer this reminder: Personal prayer is most important. So pray for those who have religious life on their minds. Pray for them daily. Pray for them by name. If writing is your gift, put it to good use by writing about our life and mission. And if music, or art, or the media world is your passion, use it to awaken vocations. Teach about our life if teaching is your talent; encourage vocations if your gift is to motivate people. Above all, be creative in planning to awaken vocations. Keep asking yourselves how to use your God-given skills to promote vocations. Give twenty percent of your best time to the effort, and do not forget to invite. Blessings and affection, Se~in D. Sammon FMS Superior General Review for Religious Reflection Questions 1) Spend some time thinking about young people that you know. They might be members of your family, the children of friends, students, those with whom you work in ministry, young people in the parish, or elsewhere. Once you have spent some time thinking about the young people in your life, please turn your attention to the questions below. 1. What is it that you most admire about the emerging generation? Take a moment to explain your answer more fully. 2. What is it about the young people you know that most baffles you? Once again, please take a moment to explain. 3. What qualities do you look for in a young man today when considering candidates for our Marist brother-hood? 2) Spend some time thinking about what you might do individually to awaken vocations during this year ahead. What skills can you bring to the task, what will be helpful to young people, particularly those with an interest in our Institute, how can you best convey the many dimensions of our life rather than one or another? Yes, take some time to pray, seek to understand what God is asking of you this year in terms of awakening vocations, and then turn your attention to the ques-tions below. 1. As you look ahead to the coming year, what steps will you take personally to awaken Vocations? 2. What will you do the first month, during the first three months, during the first half of the year? 3. Is there a way you can combine your efforts with oth-ers to have even greater .influence awakening vocations during this time of grace? Please explain. 64.4 2005 LEO J. HERIOT Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth 380[ Jr~hn Paul II's apostolic exhortation on religious life minded us religious of our founders' charisms and what they offer to us, their followers: "Consecrated per-sons live Jbr God and from God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tenden-cies present in the human heart and in society" (Vita con-secrata 41). And in the same vein we have words that mean much to persons consecrated to a mission: "In the image of Jesus, the beloved Son 'whom the Father con-secrated and sent into the world,' those whom God calls to follow him are also consecrated and sent into the world to imitate his example and to continue his mis-sion" (VC 72). The young John Bosco, the son of Francis and Margherita Bosco of Becchi in Turin, had a unique expe-rience at the age of nine, and we can think his mission Leo J. Heriot SDB lectures in Salesian history and also teaches pas-toral psychology and Scripture in Moamoa Theological College; P.O. Box 9226; Apia, Western Samoa. Review for Religious took root at this very time. He had a strange but com-pelling dream, and this dream would return to him often and remind him of this mission of his. Each vocation is unique, and each calling is special, but for God to call a boy of nine and show him his mission in symbolic form is very special. He told about his dream in his own terms, couched in his own plain language, but it seems that the Lord was surely present in it: When I was about nine years old I had a dream that left a profound impression on me for the rest of my life. I dreamed that I was near my home, in a very large playing field where a crowd of children were having fun. Some were laughing, some playing, and not a few cursing. I was so shocked at their language that I jumped into their midst, swinging wildly with my arms and shouting at them to stop. At that moment a man appeared, nobly dressed, with an imposing appearance. He was dressed in white, and his face radi-ated such light that I could not look directly at him. He called me by name. "John," he said, "you will have to win over these boys of yours not with punches, but with gentleness and kindness. So now begin to show them that sin is ugly and virtue is attractive." At this stage John said, "I am still only a boy. How can I influence these children for the better?" But the man of his dream told him that he was to change these boys by acquiring knowledg~ and being obedient to the Lord. As the young John watched, he saw these boys change into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and a variety of other animals. The person of his dream told him, "This is your field where you must work, and to carry out your task you must become humble, steadfast, and strong!" As he looked again, he saw these wild animals change into lambs. In his confusion John Bosco asked the majestic lady who appeared next to him to explain the meaning of this strange thing in his life. She told him, "In time 381 64.4 200~ Heriot ¯ Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth When he was ordained a priest on 5 June 1841, he wondered what his future work would be. 382 everything will be made clear to you, and you will under-stand your apostolate." The next morning during breakfast John told his dream. His brothers scoffed at his simplicity, and every-one, including his mother and grandmother, had differ-ent explanations for this dream. Joseph, his older brother, said he would become a sheep farmer, and Anthony, his step-brother, told him he would probably become the leader of gang of robbers. His mother suggested that he might become a priest, and his wise old grandmother told him not to take any notice of dreams!. This dream when he was nine influenced John Bosco all his life. His apostolate and his system of education would be based on the reflections of this dream. When he was ordained a priest on 5 June 1841, with little or no fuss about the ordination, he wondered what his future work would be and how he was supposed to achieve the mission planned for him when he was a little boy. He was offered one or another parish or chaplaincy in Turin. Uncertain of his choice, he went to his spiritual director, Father Joseph Cafasso, and placed before him the various proposals. Strange as it may seem, his guide told him to go to the Convitto Ecdesiastico, a residential center where priests studied spirituality and moral the-ology according to the teaching of St. Alphonsus Liguori. It was not an academic institute so much as a pastoral center w.here a lecture was given morning and evening and the rest of the day was taken up with priestly min-istrations to people in prison, to families in their neigh-borhoods, and to patients in hospitals, especially the Review for Religious hospice founded by Canon Cottolengo (now St. Joseph Benedict Cottolengo). Later on, Don Bosco would write about his experience in this clerical convitto: "Here I learned what it means to be a priest." Turin in the 1840s was a town filled with young per-sons looking for work. There had been a drought for a number of years, and poverty in the villages had forced many boys and young men into the town seeking employment. Employment was limited, and before long many of them were stealing food or money to survive. They were coming from Lombardy, Savoy, and as far away as Switzerland. Needless to say, with the influx of these young men, the prisons became full. In Turin there were four main prisons, and they were crowded with boys from thirteen to eighteen. Their crimes were more from necessity than malice. Don Bosco made it a point to visit these prisons, tak-ing with him bread, sweets, and tobacco. The conditions were appalling: overcrowded, unsanitary. Loudmouths and foulmouths aired their hatred when these priests came to visit. Many priests from the Convitto Ecclesiastico found it hard to visit the prisoners living in such sub-standard conditions. One described the boys in prison as caged animals, often aggressive and impervious to the kindness of friendship. In his first visit to the prison, where the juveniles were mixed together with the hard-ened men, Don Bosco was treated with disdain. Just after Easter in 1842, however, he invited some prisoners to make a retreat. His friendly concern was slowly seeping into the hearts of the detainees. Some came around, but the going remained difficult. Still, he persevered with his plans, even with the comings and goings. Boys in one prison might be released all of a sudden, perhaps only to be apprehended again and given a sentence in another prison. 383 64.4 2005 Heriot ¯ Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth 384] The success of this retreat becomes evident in what Don Bosco managed to obtain for the boys. After the retreat he asked the official in charge, Urban Rattazzi, whether he could take the prison's juveniles to Stupingi for a picnic. Rattazzi agreed, provided that some police-men went along. Don Bosco bargained with him for another arrangement, no policemen. At eight o'clock, .:when the prison gates opened, the guards said to one another, "Well, this is the last we will see of some of these 260 wretches!" But, at the roll call at the end of the day, all had returned--showing that a little bit of kindness brings out the best in the worst of children. Another of Don Bosco's apostolates was in the neigh-borhoods of Turin. Industries were growing there, and on the building sites boys as young as ten or twelve were often seen lugging heavy loads of bricks and mortar on poorly erected scaffolding. Don Bosco would argue with the contractors, appealing for the boys' safety. When he first went to the building sites, he would hear the boys sneering and snickering as he passed: Ecco lo prete, "Look at the [good~for-nothing] churchman!" He would reply, No, un sacerdote, "No, a priest [who sacrifices and blesses]." He would invite these young boys to his house on Sunday, and many would come for the meal and the instruction he offered them. As a matter of fact, many of these boys became his first Salesians. Don Bosco had enormous persuasive power with the young. Don Bosco's third apostolate in these early years of his priesthood was in Canon Cottolengo's hospice, the Little House of Divine Providence. True love was found there. Don Bosco's special interest was in the section dedicated to the young. Many young persons coming from villages had become the victims of syphilis and gon-orrhea. As a result of these sexually transmitted diseases, young sufferers often finished their lives in this hospice. Review for Religious Don Bosco would often put his head in his hands and say in humble prayer, "What can I do to help these young people avoid these diseases that are symptoms of a loose society?" One wonders whether the spirit that in the 19th cen-tury motivated St. John Bosco--founder of the Salesians and, as Pope John Paul II called him, the Father and Teacher of Youth--can be found once again in a world that seems to have forgotten the importance of heart for educating hearts. Education without love is incomplete and can only end in frustration. Compensation Foliage fallen from its color's weight leaves emptiness in the treetops. I look up through gaps in their circuitry and see more of heaven than I could in June. And now at night as I lie in bed. the highest branches are abloom with stars. Patricia L. Schnapp RSM 64.4 2005 religious life ELIZABETH McDONOUGH The Council as Catalyst perspective W-hen I entered the convent, John xxIII was pope, and John E Kennedy was president of the United States. He was the first Catholic to be elected president. The USSR's Nikita Khrushchev had already been on the cover of Time maga-zine holding Sputnik, the first successful unmanned spacecraft. Vatican Council II had completed its first session, but no documents had yet been issued. The city of Berlin in what was East Germany was divided by a massive and formidable wall that could be breached only at the risk of one's life. The French had recently withdrawn from Vietnam, and some of my high school classmates had already fled to Canada to avoid the military draft as American involve-ment in that war began to escalate. JFK had already experienced the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and Elizabeth McDonough OP, our Canonical Counsel colum-nist, has written a number of articles for us. She holds the Bishop Griffin Chair of Canon Law at the Pontifical College Josephinum; 7625 North High Street; Columbus, Ohio 43235. Revie'w for Religious the Cuban missile crisis had been concluded without a nuclear war. Martin Luther King Jr. had very recendy delivered his now famous "I have a Dream" speech at the Lincoln Memorial. Elvis Presley had appeared on the Ed Sullivan show, the Beatles had finished their first frenzied foray into the USA, and Betty Friedan's Feminine Mystique had iust been published. Within ten weeks of my entering the convent, our nearly one hundred postulants and novices were at choir practice early on a Friday afternoon in November when we heard that JFK had been critically wounded in an assassination attempt in Dallas. We said a prayer and continued singing, unaware that he was already dead. Of the thirty-four postulants who entered the same time I did, twenty-two received the habit almost a year later. No one seemed to think it unusual that so many of the postulants who had entered nearly a year before had now departed. By the time Vatican Council II had concluded in December 1965, Malcolm X had been gunned down, and the Watts riots in Los Angeles were a matter of history. Less than two and a half years later, Martin Luther King was assassinated in Memphis. Riots immediately left burnt-out buildings, mounds of rubble, and shattered lives in much of the nation's capital as well as in other major cities across the country. Two months after that, in June 1968, Robert Kennedy was assassinated while cam-paigning in Los Angeles. Later that summer, antiwar riots disrupted the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. That same year, Mary Daly of Boston College published The Church and the Second Sex, and Richard Nixon, who had lost the election to JFK in 1960, became president of the United States. By July 1969, when America placed a man on the 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 388 moon, only a dozen of the original thirty-four postu-lants were still members of my religious community. One month later, on the weekend in August when I professed first vows, a three-day "Music and Arts Festival" was held on a rural farm in upstate New York near the small town of Woodstock. The admission price was $6 a day. The following spring, in May 1970, students at Kent State University protesting the Vietnam War were shot and killed by National Guardsmen. In that same year, for the first time in anyone's memory of our commu-nity's hundred and forty years of existence, no one pro-fessed first vows. The decade of the 1960s was considered by some as possibly the best of times, and by others as positively the worst of times. For American Catholic sisters, it may simply have been, on the whole, the least auspicious of times for the church to suggest that we reassess every aspect of our lives. From the vantage point of nearly half a century, it seems that Pope John's basic intent in convoking the Second Vatican Council in 1959 may have been to initi-ate a radical renewal of all of Christian life. In other words, he may have envisioned a total conversion of mind and heart on the part of all Catholics and even all Christians. It seems he may have intended to sow the seeds of a personal and collective, intellectual and voli-tional metanoia in all believers, so that what Jesus Christ bequeathed to the church might further the salvation of humanity more effectively than it had the first two thou-sand years. Recall that by January 1959, when the council was first announced, the world had just witnessed the most continuously violent, humanly devastating half century in recorded history. From his vantage point, Pope John possibly considered it high time--or time well overdue-- Review for Religious for the whole church to reassess its meaning and role and self-understanding in face of the crying needs of humanity. Recall that Vatican II was convoked before the Berlin Wall appeared almost overnight, before the Cuban mis-sile crisis, before America's seventeen-year involvement in the Vietnam War, before the multiple assassinations and urban violence of the 1960s, before humanity first looked at the world from the moon, before the first ter-rorist attack at the 1972 Olympics, and before the suc-cessful cloning of animals. The council was convoked before the resolution of South African apartheid, before Sarajevo, before Rwanda, before Pol Pot in Cambodia, before Tiananmen Square in China, before the Lockerbie crash in Scotland, before Somalia, before the Gulf War, before Oklahoma City, before Columbine, and long before 9/11. It was convoked before the Iraq War, before Darfur, before the Beslan grade school massacre, before the impact of global warming, and before the global impact of AIDS. What, indeed, we might ask, would John xxIII pos-sibly think now? Perhaps much the same as he was think-ing in 1959, namely, that the church still needs to take a genuinely new look at itself and at the rest of reality in light of the salvation wrought by Christ's life-death-res-urrection- ascension. Whatever any of us may think, say, hope, or regret regarding the Second Vatican Council, few even suspect that the positive potential of its origi-nal intent has yet been realized. This is in part because much more time is needed theologically and practically to assess and to internalize what it said and did. But the council's unrealized potential is also, at least in part, the result, of widely divergent interpretations of its content and meaning which have been categorically co-opted and systematically disseminated by clearly dichotomous seg- 64.4 2005 McDonougb * The Coundl as Catalyst A catalyst initiates a reaction and enables to,proceed under milder conditions than otherwise possible. 390 ments of ecclesial society. For nearly four decades, both sides of this ecclesial dichotomy have consciously sus-tained their combative engagement at all levels of church life. And they have done so with an energy and efficiency that has left most Catholics exhausted and not really very much renewed at all. Meanwhile, any genuine intellectual and volitional conversion that might more effectively bring Christ's salvation to the complex human and spir-itual needs of our battered world has not been afforded a fair chance to begin in earnest. So it seems to me. The title of this article refers to the council as a cat-alyst. A catalyst initiates a reaction and enables it to pro-ceed under milder conditions than otherwise possible. The council did initiate a reaction. When the council began, sis-ters in my community were all known by the names given them when they entered the novitiate. This change initi-ated us into an ego-effacing formation deliberately created to foster an encompassing new way of life. All our sisters lived in convents with local superiors and did things in order of rank from old-est to youngest according to when we had made profes-sion. We all ate in silence while someone read an article or book judged by the superior to be of some signifi-cance (which was often unknown to us who listened as we ate). We all ate whatever was served, though exceptions were made for personal illness. Some sisters seemed to have some personal illness rather regularly. A few seemed to have some personal illness for as long as anyone could remember. We generally washed our own dishes "at table" in a large dishpan of initially clean, soapy water. Review for Religious With rare exception, we never ate at unscheduled times and never ate outside of our own refectory (our term for dining room). We all had three habits: one for Sunday, one for our everyday apostolate, and one for work. Unlike men's reli-gious communities, wherein a habit could often be con-veniently donned or doffed, our habits were the only clothes we had. They were worn at all times except when we went to bed. We were fully "habited" at prayer, at our apostolate, at table, when working in the garden, when doing heavy housecleaning, and even when occa-sionally sledding or playing basketball with sisters around our age during a school break. Depending on where we were stationed (that is, where we were assigned to live and work), the work we did could be teaching a class of fifty or more students, peeling bushels of fruit, running industrial laundry equip-ment, washing dishes for as many as five hundred people, using large, heavy, institutional machines to wax wooden floors that had already been waxed far too many times before, or cleaning with toothbrushes the metal grids on the edges of three flights of stairs. This kind of work was not punishment. It was simply the way we took good care of things. We did almost all of the work ourselves, and almost everything was in perfect condition most of the time. We never wasted anything. Wrapping paper and ribbons, boxes and jars, aluminum foil and plastic containers--all were saved to be used again and again. Our families would joke about our reusing everything and called it "nunny." Nowadays many people do it but they call it ecology. We ordinarily awakened to a bell shortly after four o'clock and almost every minute of every day was sched-uled with some event or responsibility. We all retired at a specified time, usually no later than nine-thirty. 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 392 Permission was needed for exceptions. After the "lights out" time, some sisters read books in bed under the cov-ers with a flashligl~t. Our rooms were rather small (about 8 x 14 ft.), but they usually had everything we really needed. Back then what we really needed were a bed, a bedside table, a desk, a bookcase, a chair, a lamp, a closet, and a small dresser. Every room had a crucifix on the wall and a little bottle of holy water on the dresser. We did not hang other things on the walls, and we did not have nicknacks. In some of our convents, a few sisters lived in dormitories with curtains separating generally equal spaces which contained mostly the same furniture. In some convents the rooms might have a small sink and a small easy chair. We had common bathroom facilities, but often the superior's room had a private bath. Superiors also had a small, separate office, and the house treasurer usually did too. We could write to our family once a week. Family members could visit occasionally, oftener and more briefly if they lived nearby, less often and longer if they lived farther away. On these visits we never had meals together. We ate in the refectory with the sisters, and our families ate in the guest dining room. Any gifts our family brought were given immediately to the superior, who transferred the best of everything to the chaplain or the pastor if they were things a priest could use. We all regularly asked permission from the superior for doing such things as opening our mail, using the books at our disposal, and having necessary personal toi-let articles. About once a month the superior conducted a meeting of all the sisters which was known as "chapter of faults." This had been a salutary monastic practice of publicly admitting to the sisters with whom you lived your own externally manifest foibles and failures and then asking forgiveness. But by the 1960s this practice Review for Religious had been truly trivialized into merely mentioning some fault from a previously prepared list of supposedly light or medium or serious ones. They ranged from leaving something out of place to talking during "times of silence." Things we actually did or failed to do that really annoyed one another were mostly not on the list. It did not matter much what a sister mentioned from the list, because the sisters you lived with were already very much aware of your external foibles and failures. Some were even aware of your internal ones. What we actually did or failed to do that really annoyed each other was seldom on the list, - - but these provided the ever-present, unrelenting, mutual sandpaper of our lives together. Every sister knew it, all too well. Most sisters in local-community convents had sev-eral jobs besides teaching. Shortly after first profession I taught five classes of math a day (algebra, geometry, trigonometry) at a co-ed high school of a thousand stu-dents, was in charge of the bookstore (textbooks, sta-tionery supplies), was responsible for the convent cars (keeping them clean, full of gas, and fixed when neces-sary), was convent treasurer ("qualified" because I taught math), and traveled a hundred miles each Saturday for M.A. studies financed by a National Science Foundation grant. What I was doing was not unusual, it seems to me. But we were much younger then. When Vatican II began, the religious community I entered had 720 members. It owned and operated two colleges for women, three highly successful high schools, and a small hospital. All of these had a sister as presi- Most sisters in local-community convents had several jobs besides teaching. 64.4 200~ McDonough ¯ The Coundl as Catalyst 3941 dent, principal, or CEO. All of these had at least a dozen sisters serving in various capacities. We also staffed sev-eral large Catholic high schools and more than three dozen Catholic grade schools in various dioceses in five different states. We were known for being quite good at what we did, and it seemed to me we were. We related professionally to the lay people with whom we worked, but we never really socialized with them. They were called "seculars," and the sisters greatly outnumbered them. By the time I entered, because learning and teach-ing were central to our heritage, it was rare for a sister to be assigned to teach without having at least a B.A. degree. Many sisters already had or were studying for master's or doctoral degrees. Except for those studying, we all came "home" to the motherhouse and worked there or nearby during the summer months. In mid August year after year, we received any new assignments by hearing a list read aloud to all of us assembled in the motherhouse chapel. We were not consulted about the assignments. The very next day we were all on our way to this or that convent in this or that town, each of us with all our belongings. Back then, those belongings always fitted into one large trunk plus, for some, a small suitcase. The convent in which you landed in those days might be subject to the occasional but dreadfully harmful tyranny of a superior who probably should never have had a position of authority. In those days the mother general--the sister in charge of the whole congregation, who herself was elected--appointed all the local superi-ors. It was only in the mid 1970s that sisters in our local houses got to elect their own superior. The election of the mother general took place every four years at a for-mal, solemn gathering called the general chapter. All the sisters voted for delegates to the chapter, and the dele- Review for Religqous gates elected the mother general and the four councilors who assisted her. Besides the elections, these delegates also made decisions about other things that concerned the whole community. While the chapter was in progress, the rest of us usually did not know much about what was going on, although a few always seemed to know most of what was going on everywhere. In local communities, some superiors treated author-ity as a matter of control and more or less trampled on the sensibilities of others in the house, except for favorites of theirs (for whatever reason). In retrospect, it seems that the favorites were being groomed to become future superiors. Many of them did. The nonfavorites were thankful when they were assigned to another house or when the superior went "out of office." Some incom-petent superiors, recycled in a sort of "lateral arabesque," wreaked havoc again on sisters elsewhere. Such superi-ors were the exception, not the norm. But they were really notable exceptions if they were your own supe-rior. The convent in which you landed could also fall under the diplomatically gloved but predominantly iron hand of a local pastor who controlled everything, from the horarium (our daily schedule) to the purse strings. Back then, financial remuneration for sisters was a pittance. In the early 1970s I was among twenty-eight sisters in a city with one of the highest per capita incomes in the country. Two dozen of us had degrees, some even graduate degrees. We taught in a large diocesan high school or in a nearby parish grade school or worked in a diocesan office. One sister was a full-time cook for the convent. Though not many of us knew how to cook for twenty-eight people, we took turns helping to cook on weekends. Every sister in the convent received a salary of $1,800 per year. Of course, the convent and its mainte-nance were paid for by the parish or school, and we had 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 396 three cars for our use, paying only the cost of gas for community trips. At that time there was rarely any for-mal provision for sisters' healthcare, but most necessary medical services were donated by local doctors and den-fists. No one ever even thought of retiring, so no retire-ment funds were ever requested or received. It all "worked" fiscally because there were so many of us and we were so young and lived so frugally. I cannot say we went without necessities and must admit we also had occasional extra amenities that were probably unavailable to most of our own families. Remarkably--or perhaps not so remarkably--we usually sent a monthly surplus to the motherhouse. In that way, convents which had difficulties in making ends meet could be given sup-plements from the congregation's general fund. The gen-eral fund also supported our older sisters when they were no longer able to work, but every sister worked for as long as she could. In retrospect it seems that, if we had received higher stipends, we could have recycled much more of that town's wealth into poorer schools and parishes elsewhere through our sisters' donated services. Like most sisters' communities, we also operated schools where many parents simply could not pay any tuition at all. Wherever you lived back then, ever-present poten-tial pitfalls of our life together centered on the possible overemphasis on externals or a possibly excessive legalism in observing regulations as supposedly indicative of what constituted a "good sister." I label them potential pitfalls because, in retrospect, there may have been only three basic ways for us to deal constructively with the exter-nals and the legalism. These realities seemed to domi-nate the entire ethos of Catholicism in America before Vatican II, and they certainly fit all too comfortably into the total ambience of religious life. But, to be construc- Review for Religious tive about it, you could basically only comply with the externals or you could identify with them or you could try to internalize their meaning. Whether or not a sister was really prone to legalism was somehow related to which of the above options predominated for her. Back then, it seemed that just about any sister who wanted to stay in the convent could learn to comply with just about everything that was asked of her, and most did. Even if you did not like doing this or that, you could usually appear pretty good at doing it. Even novices could learn to comply externally most of the time, or at least enough of the time to be admitted to first profes-sion. At another level, back then it seemed to me that most sisters rather readily identified with the communal importance of what was expected of us for the sake of the bigger picture of who we were together. And most somehow sensed that who we were together was immensely greater than the sum of the parts. So the value of accepting certain externals of our collective identity, such as living and praying and working together or wear-ing the same habit or engaging in common practices, was eventually mostly integrated as part of the overall package that both strengthened and assuaged the ins and outs of the day-to-day reality of our lives. But, at still another level, back then it seemed to me that you could personally and spiritually internalize what-ever you did as fitting somehow in the adventure of hav-ing promised your whole life to God no matter what. It also seemed to me that some sisters, mostly older ones, had actually internalized what it might really mean to live our life within the ambience of all the externals but with a balance and healthiness that had no hint of legal-ism. They seemed to understand that none of the exter-nals were the essentials. They also seemed to understand 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 398 that all we did was intended to foster somehow the life we publicly professed and interiorly hoped to live. I think we all truly hoped to be good, maybe even holy. And I think we all truly wanted to do good, no matter what we actually happened to do. From the deeper, longer, wiser perspective of these seasoned sisters, the externals seemed to matter less, even though they were faithful in observ-ing them. For sure, very early on, I knew I definitely wanted to belong someday to the last group just described. In the midst of all this, it also seemed to me that most of us were happy and productive most of the time. We mostly tried to be prayerful women as best we knew how and to be responsively obedient in sometimes diffi-cult circumstances. For the most part, we had fun with one another, good clean fun, much more often than onlookers may ever have suspected. For the most part, we were quite competent at what we did in significant areas of education, study, and learning. And the regimenta-tion of much of our life even afforded some sisters the opportunity of serving others much more effectively than they might have done on their own. Somehow, in com-munities of women religious forty years ago, in some real way, we really were family to one another, warts and all. And through it all, perhaps in spite of it all, we were definitely not all alike, and we knew it. We knew that no visible similarities rendered us actually similar. But we knew, too, that in many ways all was not well with the way we lived and that much could or should be effec-tively changed for the better. From the moment conciliar documents were avail-able in English, the sisters in my community enthusias-tically read and studied them. The promulgation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy in December 1963 had enormous positive consequences for American Review for Religious Catholic sisters. Until then, other than Mass, prayer in common for sisters in communities with post- Reformation origins often consisted entirely of medita-tion in common, various litanies~ multiple rosaries, and numerous devotional prayers composed by whoever had founded them. In these communities the meditation topic was usually chosen by the superior, announced the evening before, and had an obligatory format usually fol-lowing standard steps adapted from Ignatian spiritual-ity or from a variation of the 17th-century French school of spirituality. Sisters in communities tracing their her-itage to before the Reformation usually prayed a short-ened "little office" consisting of psalms, with antiphons and responses in honor of the Sacred Heart, the Blessed Virgin Mary, or others. These communities also prayed the rosary in common, but usually had fewer litanies and devotional prayers. Meditation was always in chapel together at an early hour, but a common meditation topic or specific method set by the superior would not usu-ally have been obligatory. Before the council, for the most part, only clergy were considered as officially praying the official Divine Office in the name of the church and as part of its offi-cial worship. Indeed, even if nonclergy prayed the same Divine Office from the same books, it was not considered participation in the church's liturgical prayer. Very soon, however, sisters in communities of any heritage began chorally praying the psalms of the breviary and finding this practice to be immensely more meaningful than their previous devotions. The promulgation of the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation in November 1965 also proved particularly significant for American Catholic sisters, who responded instantly and enthusiastically to new or renewed biblical studies. But no conciliar document altered the reality of reli- 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Ca~alys~ gious life for sisters in apostolic congregations in the United States more than the Decree on the "Accommodata Renovatione" of Religious Life promulgated in October 1965. The Latin phrase accommodata renovatione is delib-erately retained here, not to be pedantic, but because this cryptic description of what was apparently intended for religious life is not easily translated and because one common translation--"adaptation and renewal"--is sim-ply not correct. This erroneous translation, however, was at first used so frequently that dichotomous expla-nations arose describing "adaptation" as pertaining to external elements of religious life and "renewal" as per-taining to internal, spiritual matters of religious life. The title actually called for the entire reality of religious life to be renewed or restored or refreshed or revived in a suitable or fitting manner. This was quite in keeping with John xxIII'S intention that the church more effec-tively bring the riches of salvation in Christ to bear on humanity's immediate and ultimate needs. To this end, article 2 of Perfectae caritatis made clear that effective renewal should occur under the influence of the Holy Spirit and with church guidance. It would involve returning to both the sources of Christian life and the initial inspiration of religious communities as adapted to the altered conditions of current times. PC (Perfectae caritatis, not personal computer!) affirmed fol-lowing Christ in the Gospels as the supreme rule of life for every religious, while urging acceptance and retention of the community's original spirit and aims and sound traditions. It encouraged religious institutes to foster church initiatives in keeping with their own proper char-acter. It mandated that communities should help their members to better understand human realities, world conditions, and the needs of the church. It strongly reaf-firmed the profession of the evangelical counsels and Review for Religious clearly emphasized the importance of spiritual renewal. Article 3 of PC asked every religious community to harmonize its life, prayer, and work with the physical and psychological condition of its members, and it asked us to do likewise in relation to the apostolate, the sur-rounding culture, and overall economic circumstances. It mandated examination of the community's mode of gov-ernment and called for proper revision of constitutions, directories, customs, prayers, and ceremonies in order to bring them into sync with changes promulgated in other conciliar documents. Article 4 of Perfectae caritatis urged the cooperation of all community members in the renewal effort, which it particularly entrusted to competent internal authorities such as general chapters and legitimate superiors. At the same time, it required superiors to consult with com-munity members and to actually listen to them. So it seemed to most of us that someone somewhere who had worked on the formulation of PC must have known that many things might need changing from the way they were back then. All this was prescribed in the context of our individ-ual response to a divine call to express our baptismal consecration more fully by living solely for God with an apostolic orientation in service of the church (articles 5 and 8). Not surprisingly, PC reaffirmed that the three evangelical counsels commonly professed by religious are spiritually and humanly efficacious for fostering maturity, responsible interaction with authority, and con-structive life together. The reordering of the traditional vow sequence from poverty-chastity-obedience to chastity-poverty-obedience was noted, though there was no evident reason for it (articles 12-15). PC also mandated alteration of religious habits inso-far as they were not conducive to hygiene or were no 401 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst Women religious in the Unl,ted States took these conciliar mandates)~,~- and challengers quite.seriously,; responding to them with astounding interest and concerted action. 402 [ longer simple or were not genuinely attuned to apos-tolic needs (article 17). It initiated longer and more com-prehensive formation (article 18) and urged maintenance of current ministries while simultaneously calling for a renewed missionary spirit (article 20). And it pointedly reminded religious everywhere that the "example of their own lives" was the best invitation for others to join them in this way of witness in the church (article 23). Without a doubt, women religious in the United States took these conciliar mandates and challenges quite seriously, responding to them with astounding interest and concerted action. And, without a doubt, Vatican II was a catalyst for renewal. It initi-ated a genuine, whole-hearted, enthusiastic response on the part of American Catholic sis-ters regarding who they were, how they lived and prayed, what they did, and what they were being called to do. On the other hand, from the vantage point of hindsight, it is now rather clear that many changes in religious life catalyzed by the coun-cil did not proceed under the milder conditions that cat-alytic conversions are supposed to make possible. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, experimentation in living and praying and working seems never to have ended, while in some communities their living and praying and working seems never to have changed. In most communities of American Catholic sis-ters, constitutional revisions seem never to have found Review for Religious the last, best way of expressing what sisters really want to say, while in some communities only grammar and syn-tax seem to have been altered, and only minimally. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, corporate apostolates have almost completely disappeared, while in some communities apostolic endeavors seem to have remained exactly the same as they were forty years ago. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, many members wear completely secular attire, while in some communities the sisters' only attire remains a Sunday or weekday or work habit, one of which is worn at all times. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, many members live alone in rented apartments, are responsible to no internal superior below the gen-eral council (now commonly known as a leadership team), find their own jobs, visit relatives at their own convenience, organize their own work schedules, and are basically responsible for maintaining their own well-being. In stark contrast, in some communities life is very much the same as it was forty years ago: all sisters live in convents, are assigned to ministry with little consulta-tion, have local superiors, follow a standard horarium, eat in common, wash dishes at table, never visit their families overnight, and--among a plethora of other per-sonal human constraints--may still be permitted to shower or bathe only once a week. This article refers to the council as a catalyst. In ret-rospect, it is clear that the catalytic impulse of the coun-cil occurred during a decade of rapid and sweeping cultural upheavals in the world. In retrospect, it is also clear that in the United States the catalytic impulse of Vatican lI coincided with conditions of extreme social turbulence. Ostensibly genuine responses to the man-dates of Vatican II during a time of great and ongoing social unrest seem to have resulted forty years later in a 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst far more than minimal divergence in the ways various communities of sisters in America live and pray and work. From what appear to be the result of forces in play forty years ago, in merely human terms the 1960s may have been the least auspicious time for the church to have sug-gested that American Catholic sisters should reassess every aspect of their lives. Indeed, it seems that strongly affirmed good inten-tions and long-sustained earnest efforts have actually brought American Catholic sisters to diametrically opposed positions of immense disparity in spirituality, theology, apostolic endeavors, internal structures, and overall functioning. In four decades of trying to achieve an accommodata renovatio, many communities of American Catholic sisters appear to have unconsciously but enthu-siastically adapted themselves into impending oblivion, while some other communities of American Catholic sis-ters appear to have consciously and steadfastly remained basically unrenewed. And, in this ongoing process, the genuine challenge of Vatican Council II for religious life as a gift to the church--and to the waiting world-- remains as yet overwhelmingly unrealized. Or so it seems to me. His Smile Radiant goodness broke out from ear to ear a would-be down of pain turned up a smile ingratiating, inviting a welcome sign to an open heart; a home. I stepped in and stayed awhile. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious CHRISTIAN RAAB Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney Toe 1993 Harold Ramis film Groundhog Day is the ry of a television weatherman named Phil, played by Bill Murray, who soon finds himself in a time warp. As the film begins, Phil is cocky, sarcastic, and self-important and resents being sent to the small town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to cover the Groundhog Day festival. He spends the day ridiculing the provin-cialisms of the people, bragging about his chances of becoming an anchorman, and trying, rather rudely, to charm his attractive ~producer, Rita, played by Andie MacDowell. At day's end Phil's TV crew gets snowed in. Phil awakens the next day to discover that it is February 2 once again, though he is the only one who seems to notice. He relives the whole day, encounter by encounter, no more gracefully and with even more frustration than he had the day before. He finally goes to bed, hoping that he has gotten over the world's worst case of d4j~ vu. He awakens, however, to find that it is February 2 for Christian Raab OSB is a newly professed Benedictine monk at St. Meinrad Archabbey; 100 Hill Drive; St. Meinrad, Indiana 47577. 64.4 200Y Raab ¯ Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney the third time. These repetitions continue for the rest of the movie. Phil quite clearly has become stuck in Groundhog Day. As he keeps reliving this day and reencountering the people in it, Phil's reactions change--from utter frus-tration and angry outbursts to something else. He real-izes that a life without consequences beyond one day can be used for unbounded pleasure seeking. When he tires of this, he turns his attention toward winning the heart of Rita. He spends days figuring out who the perfect man is in Rita's eyes, and then he pretends to be this person. Needless to say, it does not work. Phil responds with despair and, believing it is the only way out of his private hell, tries again and again to end his life. After each attempt, however, he awakens to the same song on the radio and sees that it is still February 2. Finally Phil recognizes that his selfishness is getting him nowhere. He begins to live for others. He gets to know people and responds to their needs. He feeds a homeless man. He is kind to an annoying character. He helps counsel a young couple. He knows what time every day several old ladies get a flat tire and hurries there to fix it for them. He knows what time each day a young boy falls from a tree, and he rushes there to catch him. Discovering that he has a gift for music, he develops and shares it. He becomes part of the community he once ridiculed, and at last, by forgetting himself, he escapes his fate and reaches February 3. There is something about Phil's Groundhog Day that living as a novice in a Benedictine monastery resonates with. Benedictine iife, especially in the novitiate, is very structured and repetitive. Every day begins the same. At 5:15 a.m., the bells announce Morning Prayer. After Morning Prayer is breakfast, then private spiritual read-ing. At 7:30 a.m. we return to church for Mass. When Review for Religious this is over, we may grab a quick cup of coffee before the workday begins at 8:30 a.m. Coffee break is at 10 a.m. At noon comes Midday Prayer and then lunch, fol-lowed by work or class again at 1 p.m. At 4:30 p.m. the workday ends. The monks go back to church at 5 p.m. for Vespers. After this we have another period of private spiritual reading, and then at 6 p.m. we meet for the evening meal. After dinner, monks are usually free to recreate, study, or go to bed, as the case may be. The monk ends his day, goes to sleep, awakens again the next day to the ring-ing of the bells, and the cycle begins again. It is - - a structured, repetitive, and somewhat predictable life. In some ways, every day feels the same. Of course, this structured life is not just a repetition of practices. More important, it is a repetition of encoun-ters with people. It is easy to know that a particular brother can be expected to sit at a particular place in the refectory during breakfast. A certain father will be arriv-ing at the coffeemaker at 7 a.m. Some monks will sit on this side of the calefactory during coffee, break, and oth-ers will sit on the other side. We expect to see certain monks in the computer lab before we open the door. We know who will almost surely be playing cards after supper. We become familiar with the sounds of monks' breathing and walking. We begin to know who will like a book and who will hate it, who will take a joke and who won't, who likes hugs and who doesn't, who prefers the mornings and who prefers the evenings. In the way that monastic life provides a series of repeat encounters This structured life is not just a repetition of practices; it is a repetition of encounters with people. 407 64.4 2005 Raab ¯ Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney 408 and practices, it is not much different from Groundhog Day. The monk, unlike Phil, voluntarily chooses this life of repetitive practices and encounters in connection with the vow of stability. The vow is a monk's promise to stay in the same place with the same people and engage in the same monastic practices for the rest of his life. Like all the vows, stability is a means toward the end of con-version. Our Brother John Mark explains that stability aids conversion by providing a sure and solid context in which the human will may conform to the will of the loving God. He compares the human will to a steel rod that, in conversion, is bent into conformity with the divine will. One cannot bend a rod without having something strong and solid to hold it in place. This is what stabil-ity does. It provides the strong and solid foundation that makes conversion--the bending of the rod--possible. Stability means the monk stays put. He commits to repeat his day over and over again in the same place with the same people doing the same things. And so the monk, in a very real way, is choosing to do what Phil did invol-untarily, to stay in one place, to relive and reencounter while being transformed. Repetition can help us with this transformation, not merely by keeping us surefooted, but by supplying and resupplying opportunities for loving choices. For exam-ple, because I am in this repetitive life, each day I have the opportunity to be more attentive in liturgy, and to be more open in prayer, than I was earlier. As I live and work each day alongside some people who annoy me, I have the opportunity to "love my enemies," to set aside grievances, to practice patience, to exercise charity. Each day I have the opportunity to anticipate needs in the elderly monks, to clean things with more care than I did Review for Religious the day before, to listen with more receptivity to the lonely and the needy. Because so many of our experiences and encounters repeat themselves, I am, each day and always, given the opportunity to be humble where I was proud, to be chaste where I was lustful, to be calm where I was angry, to be forgiving where I was unforgiving, to be assertive where I was a pushover. In this way, stability, by its rep-etition, can be accepted as a great gift on the path to holiness. The monk who perseveres can, like Phil, be trans-formed. Like Phil, we may come to this life with prob-lems of self-centeredness, sarcasm, conceit, anger, despair, or lust. But, if we are open to the grace that comes with living, out stability in a monastic community, we, like Phil, may be transformed into persons of char-ity. In the last scene of Groundhog Day, Phil has finally "gotten it right" and the morrow has finally come. On the morning of February 3, the now-transformed Phil says to Rita with joyful single-mindedness, "Is there any-thing I can do for you today?" It is this monk's hope that he may be able to start his own day, each day, with the same happy singularity of purpose, saying to my broth-ers and to God, "Is there anything I can do for you today?" ZPlease:note that the phone and fax number for the editorial offices of Review for Religious :have changed. The new numbers are: PHONE 31'4-633-4610 :and FAX 314-633-4611. 409 64.4 2005 the ANDREW RYDER Led by the Spirit: St. Augustine spirit 4101 St. Augustine's reflections on Christianity were very original and also much influenced by the facts of his own life. He forged his ideas 6n the hard anvil of his own conversion and his need, as a bishop, to defend the teaching of the Catholic Church. This combination of speculation and experience gives his writings a unique ongoing relevance. Their blending of the theoretical and the practical is nowhere more evident than in his teaching on the Holy Spirit. His Spirit doc-trine develops through three movements: his agonizing effort leading to his conversion, his need as a pastor to explain the church's doc-trines, and his awareness that the action of grace is the love of the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts. Fortunately, the key to understanding these three movements, and indeed all of Augustine's theology, is his most popular com- Andrew Ryder scJ presents the second of his four arti-cles on the Holy Spirit. His address is St. Joseph's Retreat Centre; Malpas; Cheshire SY14 7DD; United Kingdom. Review for Religious position, the Confessions. This work records his long-drawn- out struggle to find God. The Confessions The opening words of the Confessions set the tone. Augustine's masterpiece is not a sorrowful account of past misdeeds. It is not a lurid description of a misspent youth, but rather a joyful poem praising the God who has delivered him from sin and error: "Can any praise be worthy of the Lord's majesty? How magnificent his strength! How inscrutable his wisdom! Man is one of your creatures, Lord, and his instinct is to praise you. He bears about him the mark of death, the sign of his own sin, to remind him that you thwart the proud. But still, since he is a part of your creation, he wishes to praise you" (Conf 1.1).' The Confessions are not an autobiography in the mod-ern sense, but rather a profession of faith in the majest

Issue 43.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1984. ; REvll!w I:OR RE~.lt;~Ot~S (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. R~=.vlt.'.w FOR RE~.~t3~ot~s is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis, MO. @ 1984 by Rl~vll:.w FOR RE~.mlot;s. 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 sub~ripfion orders or change of address, write Rt:v~t:w ~,oR Rt:l.w,~ot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Sept./Oct., 1984 Volume 43 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR R~-:tAGtOOS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~-:v~.:w ~'oR Rt-:t.t~;~oos; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Oul of print" issues and articles not published as reprints arc available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. "On the Strength of His Word": A Meditation on Priestly Spirituality Joseph Ratzinger Oh the occasion of the golden jubilee celebration of Joseph Cardinal H~Sffner, Archbishop of Cologne (October 30, 1982), Cardinal RatTJng~r offered this meditation on the priesthood which many have found helpful. The text is based on the translation which appeared in L'Osservatore Romano, 2 April, 1984, pp. 13ft. Cardinal Ratzinger is presently Prefect of the S. Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, where he may be addressed: 1 -- 00120 Vatican City The past twenty years have witnessed a great deal of reflection and much heated discussion about the priesthood. But in spite of everything, the priest-hood proves to be longer-lived thari anticipated by many of the premature arguments put forward by certain persons who would want to abandori it as a sacred misunderstanding, replacing it with an understanding based on the concept of a merely functional "temporary service." We are gradually°coming to comprehend the presuppositions which at one time allowed such arguments to appear almost incontrovertible. Overcoming these prejudices also enables "us to understand more profoundly the biblical witness in its inner unity--of Old and New Testament, of Bible and Church. We are thus no longer forced to rest content with stale water from cisterns that sometimes trickles away amid conflicting h3ipotheses and sometimes collects in brackish little pools. Instead, we have accessto the living fountains of the faith of the Church of all ages. As far as I can see, the future will have to face precisely this question: How are we supposed to read the Scriptures? During the years when the canon of the Scriptures was being formed--which were also the years when the Church and her catholicity were taking shape--it was primarily Irenaeus of Lyons who had to deal with this question, whose answer decided whether ecclesiasti-cal life was possible or not. In his day, Irenaeus saw clearly that to divide the 641 649 / Review for Religious~; Sept.-Oct., 1984 Bible in itself, and to separate Bible and Church from each other was the basic principle of a Christianity of conformism and rationalism, the so-called Gnosis, which threatened the very foundations of the Church at that time. This basic twofold division was preceded by an inner division of the Church itself into communities which created their own ad hoc legitimacy by a selec-tion of sources. The disintegration of the sources of faith calls forth the disintegration of fellowship or communio--and vice versa. Gnosis attempts to put forth such a division or separation as being the epitome of rationality--divide the two Testaments, separate Scripture from Tradition, distinguish between educated and uneducated Christians--but in truth, Gnosis is a sign of decay. On the contrary, the unity of the Church renders visible the unity of that whence she lives: the Church lives only when she draws upon the Whole, upon the multiform unity of Old and New Testa-ments, of scriptural tradition and the realization of the Word in faith. Once one has bowed to this other logic of disintegration, then nothing can really be put together properly any more.~ It would be inappropriate to the solemn joy of this day were we to enter more deeply into the scholarly disputation just h!nted at--though this dispute must be settled before one can discuss details of the biblical testimony, for instance on the subject of the priesthood. The very joy of this day is itself something of a locus theologicus. The fifty years of priesthood that we celebrate is a reality which speaks for itself, and which gives a concrete context to these reflections. On this occasion, then," ! thought it better not to attempt a scholarly lecture upon the priesthood, but instead to offer a spiritual reflection, one in which 1 should like to explain a few scriptural passages which have come to be important to me personally, and to do this in a meditative way, without any special system or claim to scholarship. The Priestly Image in Lk 5:1-11 and Jn 1:35-42 The first text I have chosen is Luke 5:!-11. This is the wonderful "voca-tion" account which tells how Peter and his friends, after a night of fruitless labor, on the strength of the Lord's word put out to sea once more. They catch a shoal of fish so great that the nets almost break, whereupon :Jesus utters his "call": ~'You shall become a fisher of men!" I have a very special affection for this passage because above it there shines the dawning light of a first love, of a beginning full of hope and readiness. Every time 1 recall these verses 1 remember the fresh brightness of my own beginnings, of that joy in the Lord of which we spoke in the phrase from the old psalter with which we began Mass: "I will go unto the altar of God, to the God who giveth joy to my youth" (Ps 42:4)--to the God in whose nearness the joy oI~ being young is constantly renewed because he is life itself, and hence the source of genuine youth. But let us return to our text which reports that the people pressed upon On the Strength of His Word / 643 Jesus because they wanted to hear the word of God. He is standing on the seashore, the fishermen are washing their nets, and Jesus gets into one of the two boats beached there--it was Peter's boat. Jesus asks him to put out a little from the land; he sits down and teaches the people from the boat. Simon's boat thus becomes the cathedra of Jesus Christ. Afterwards he says to Simon: "Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch." The fishermen have spent all night toiling in vain. To them it seems quite pointless to lower the nets again in the early morning hours. But for Peter, Jesus has already become so important, indeed so decisive, that he replies: On the strength of your word--"At your word I will let down the nets." The word of Jesus has already become more substantial than what is apparently real and empirically certain. That Galilean morning, whose fresh scent we can almost breathe in this account, becomes an image of the new dawn of the Gospel after the nights of fruitles~ness into which our own actions and: desires repeatedly lead us. And when Peter and his companions return with their heavy cargo-- which required the help of their partners because the abundance of the gift threatened to break their nets--Peter had completed not merely an outward journey, a work of merely human hands. For Peter, this had become an interior journey whose extent is framed by Luke in just two words. The Evangelist reports that before the great catch of fish, Peter addressed the Savior as Epistata, which means "teacher," "professor," or "master." Upon his return, however, Peter, falls on his knees before Jesus and no longer addresses him as Rabbi but as Kyrie--"Lord." In other words, Peter now addresses Jegus as God. Peter had. traveled the road from "Rabbi,' to "Lord," from "Teacher" to "Son." At the completion of this interior journey he is capable of receiving a vocation. At this point the parallels to the first "vocation" account in Jn 1:35-42, practically force themselves upon us.2 There we read that the first two disci-ples, Andrew and an unnamed companion, ~follow Jesus after hearing the Baptist exclaim, ".Behold, the Lamb of God !" They are struck on the one hand by the consciousness of their own sinfulness evoked by this exclamation, on the other hand by the hope which the Lamb of God represents for the sinner. One senses that both of them. are still uncertain; their discipleship is still hesitant.~ Without saying any more, they follow him discreetly, apparently not yet daring to address him directly. And so he turns to them and says, "What do you seek?" Although the reply sounds awkward, a bit shy and embar-rassed, still it comes directly to the. point: "Rabbi, where do you live?" Or, more acurately translated, "Where are you staying?"--where is your abode, your shelter, your real residence, that we too may arrive there?" Here, we must remind ourselves that the idea of "abiding" or "residing" is one of the key concepts of St. John's Gospel. The Savior's reply is normally translated "Come and see!" This corres-ponds with the conclusion of John's second "vocation" account involving 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 Nathanael, to whom Jesus says, "You shall see greater things than these!" (Jn 1:50). The meaning of this "coming," in other, words, is becoming perceptive; "coming" means to be seen by him--and to begin seeing with him. As a matter of fact, above his abode the heavens, the hidden sphere of God, are open (Jn 1:51); there man stands in God's own radiance. "Come, and you shall see!" also accords with the Church's "communion psalm": "O taste and see that the Lord is god!" (Ps 34:8). It is only the approach, the "coming," which leads to seeing. Tasting allows the eyes to be opened. Just as the tasting of the forbidden fruit in Paradise once "opened the eyes" in a fateful manner, so too it is true here in the opposite sense that tasting what is true also "opens the eyes," so that one realizes and "sees" God's goodness. Seeing takes place only in coming into Jesus' abode. There can be no vision without the hazard of approaching, of "coming." St. Johweven notes that "it was about the tenth hour" (1:39), in other words very lat~, a time at which one would think it no longer possible to make a beginning--and yet an hour at which urgent and decisive events do take place. According to some apocalyp-tic calculations, the tenth hour is considered the hour of the "last days."3 He who comes to Jesus enters the definitively final age; he makes contact with the already present reality of the Resurrection and of the kingdom of God. "Seeing," therefore, takes place when one '~approaches," and John the Evangelist makes this clear in the same fashion that we noted in St. Luke's account. When Jesus addressed them, the two responded by calling him "Rabbi." But when they return from staying with him, Andrew tells his brother Simon, "We have found the Messiah, the Christ" (Jn 1:14). In approaching Jesus ~and remaining with him, Andrew had traveled the path from "Rabbi" to "ChriSt," he had learned to see the Christ in the te~icher--and this is somethingwhich can only be learned in "abiding." Thus does the inner unity of the third and fourth Gospels become evident: both times the experi-ment of living "on'the strength of his Word" is undertaken, and both times the interior pilgrimage follows a course which permits vision, "seeing," to arise out of "coming." All of us began our joul-ney with the Church's full profession of faith in God's Son. But such an approach "~n the strength of his word," such an entering into his abode, is in our own case, too, the precondition for our vision or "seeing." And he alone is capable of calling others who is himself able to see cleai'ly, instead of merely believing at second hand. This coming or approach, this venturing out "on the strength of his Word" is, today and always, the indispensable prerequisite of the apostolate of priestly ministry. Again and again we shall find it necessary to ask him: "Where are you staying?" Over and over again it will be necessary to approach Jesus' abode from within. Again and again we shail have to let down the nets on the strength of his woi'd, even when it seems quite pointless. It is constantly necessary to regard his Word as more real than all that we otherwise would consider valid: statistics, technol-ogy, public opinion. Often it will seem as though the tenth hour had already On the Strength of His Word / 645 struck, and we shall have to postpone the hour of Jesus. But in precisely this way it can become the hour of his nearness. The two Gospel accounts have some other traits in common. St. John depicts the two disciples as being struck by the Baptist's proclamation of the Lamb. They obviously know from experience that they are sinners. For them this is not some sort of alien religious phraseology, but rather something that stirs them from within, something that is very real to them. Since they realize this about themselves, the Lamb becomes a sign of hope for them, and this is why they begin to follow him. Something quite unexpected occurs when Peter returns to shore with his great catch of fish. We might have expected him to embrace Jesus because of the successful fishing operation, but instead Peter falls on his knees. He does not hold fast to (he Savior in order to possess a future guarantee of success, but actually tries to drive him away because he fears the power of God: "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man!" (Lk 5:8). Where man experiences God, there he recognizes his own sinfulness, and it is. only when he really knows that he is sinful--and has grasped the malice of sin--that he.also .comprehends the call to "repent,~ and believe the Gospel!" (Mk 1:15). Without conversion, it is not possible to press forward to Jesus and to the. Gospel. There is a paradox of Chesterton's which expresses this rela-tionship quite accurately: one can recognize a saint by the fact that he knows he is a sinner.4 The fact that our experience of God has grown pale is evident today in the disappearance of our experiential awareness of our sin; and vice versa: the disappearance of this knowledge alienates us all the more from God. Without falling into a false anxiety, we should once again learn the wisdom of the psalmist's word: lnitium sapientiae timor DorninL Wisdom, genuine under-standing, begins with the correct fear of the Lord. We must once more learn this fear in order to acquire true love and to grasp what it means to be able to love him--and to grasp as well .that he loves us. Hence this experience of Peter, of Andrew and of John is a basic prerequisite for the apostolate and thus also for the priesthood. Conversion--the very first word of Christian-ity-- can be preached only by one who has himself been touched by its neces-sity and therefore has grasped the greatness of grace. In these fundamental elements of the spiritual path of the apostolate which are becoming evident here, are the outlines of the basic sacramental structure of the Church, and indeed of the priestly ministry itself, also becoming clearer. If the sacraments of baptism and penance correspond to the experience of sin, then the mystery of the Eucharist corresponds to "coming" and "becoming perceptive," to entering into the abode of Jesus. Indeed, in a sense which we could previously not even imagine, the Eucharist is Jesus' abiding with us. "There you shall see"---the Eucharist is the place where the promise to Natha-nael applies, where we can see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending (Jn 1:51). Jesus dwells and "abides" in his sacrifice, in that act 646 / Review for Religious, Sept:-Oct., 1984 of love with which he conveys himself to the Father, and through his vicarious love he also gives us back to the Father. The communion psalm whi~:h speaks about tasting and seeing also says: "Come ye to him and be enlightened" ([Douay] Ps 33:6). Communion with Christ means communication with the true light that enlightens every man who comes into this world (see Jn l:9)P Let us consider another point common to both gospel accounts. The superabundant catch of fish begins to burst the nets. Peter and his crew cannot master the situation. Thus we read in Luke 5:7 that they signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. "And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink." The call of Jesus is simultaneously a calling together, a call to syllabbsthai, as the Greek text puts it: "to take hold of together," to stick together and assist one another, to combine the efforts of both boats. St. John's Gospel expresses the same idea. Returning from his hour with Jesus, Andrew cannot remain silent about what he has found. He calls his brother Simon to Jesus, and the very same thing happens to Philip, who in his turn calls Nathanael (Jn 1:41-5). Vocation tends toward together-ness. Vocation makes disciples of us, and cries out to be passed on. Every vocation has a human element as well: the element of brotherliness, of being stimulated by another person. When we think back over our own lives, each of us knows that he was not struck by a thunderbolt direct from heaven, but that at some point he had to be spoken to by a person of faith, to be borne up or carried by.others. Of course a vocation cannot persevere if we believe only at second hand, "because So-and-So. says so." Perseverance is possible only if, led by our brethren, we ourselves find Jesus (see Jn 4:42). Both aspects necessarily belong together: being led, being spoken to, being ¯ carried, just as much as our own "coming and seeing." It therefore seems to me that we ghould once again develop much more courage to address one another, to speak to one another, and not ,to deprecate positive reactions to the testimony of others. As one of faith's components, "neighborliness" belongs to ihe humaneness of believing, and within this framework one's own encounter with Jesus must mature. Hence it is not only "taking along" and "leading toward" which are important, but release as well, abandonment to the distinctive aspects of a special call--even when these special aspects turn out to be different from what we had intended for the person concerned. In St. Luke's account, these insights are broadened out into a complete vision of the Church. James and John, the sons of Zebedee, are there called koinonoi of Simon, which here must be translated as "partners?' In other words, these three are described as a fishing partnership or cooperative, with Peter as head and principal owner.6 And it is first of all this group which Jesus calls, the koinonia (fellowship or communio), the partners in Peter's coopera-tive. In Simon's call, however, his profane vocation is reformed into an image of the new which is to come. The fishing partnership becomes the communio On the Strength of His Word or fellowship of Jesus, and Christians will form the eommunio of this new fishing boat, united by the call of Jesus and by the miracle of grace, which bestows the riches of the sea after long and hopeless nights. Just as they are united in the gift, they are also united in their joint mission. St. Jerome gives a beautiful interpretation of the title "fishers of men" which actually be~longs in the context of an inner transformation of Peter's profession into a vision of what is to come.7 Jerome says that to draw fish out of the water.means to tear them away from the n~tural element in which they live and thus to deliver them up to death. But to draw men out of the water of this world means to withdraw them from deadly surroundings and from a starless night, giving them instead air to breathe and the light of heaven. It means transferring men into the natural environment in which they can live and which is simultaneously light, enabling them to see the truth. Eight is life, because the natural element or environment from which man lives at the very deepest level is truth, which is simultaneously love. Of course, the man who swims in the waters of the world does not know this. Hence he resists being drawn up out of the water. It is as though he believes he were an ordinary fish which must die when pulled up out of the depths. And as a matter of fact. it ~s indeed a death sentence. But this death leads into the true life in which a man really arrives at being himself. To be a disciple means to let oneself be "caught" by Jesus, by the mysterious fish which descended into the water of this world, indeed, into the water of death; who himself,became a fish in order to allow himself first to be caught by us, so as to become the Bread of Eife for us. He allows himself to be caught so that we can be caught by him, and find the courage to let ourselves be pulled along with him out of the waters of our habits and comforts. Jesus became a fisher of men by taking the night of the sea upon himself, by himself descending into the Passion of its depths. One can only become a fisher of men when one applies oneself to the task the way Jesus did. And furthermore, one can only become a fisher of men when one trusts in the bark of Peter, when one has entered into fellowship or communio with,Peter. A vocation is not a private matter, merely taking up the cause of Jesus at one's own expense. The field of a vocation is the entire Church, which can exist only in f~llowship with Peter and thus with the apostles of Jesus Christ. Priestly Spirituality~ in Psalm 16 (15) Since I want to stress the unity of both Testaments in'Scripture, the second passage I wish to discuss is taken from the Old Testament, from Psalm 16 (or 15, according to the Greek enumeration). We older priests once used the fifth verse of this psalm almost like a motto for what we had undertaken when we were made clerics in the rite of tonsure. Every time this psalm recurs (it is now part of Compline on Thursdays) 1 am reminded how I tried at that time to comprehend the rite of tonsure itself by imderstanding this text, so that, once 6tll~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct. 1984 understood, I could carry out and live the rite. Thus, this verse became a precious beacon for me, and it remains today a symbol of what it means to be a priest, and of how priestly existence is realized. The Vulgate text reads: Dominus pars hereditatis meae et calicis rnei. ~ Tu es qui restitues hereditatern meam rnihi. The Lord is the portion of my inheritance and of my cup: It is thou that wilt restore my inheritance to me. This sentence makes Concrete what had been said earlier in verse 2: "I have no good beyond Thee!" and it do+s so in a very worldly turn Of phrase, in a pragmatic context that does not appear to be theological at all--in the lan-guage of the occupation and distribution of land in Israel as this is described in the book of Joshua and in the Pentateuch.s The priestly tribe of Levi was not a party to the distribution of the land among the tribes of Israel. The Levite ¯ received no land because "the Lord himself is his possession" (Dt 10:9; see also Jos 13:14) and "I [Yahweh] am thy portion and inheritance" (Nb 18:20). In this passage it is primarily the concrete matter of sustenance which is being dealt with: the Israelites live from the land which is assigned them. The land forms the physical basis of their existence. Through the possession of land, therefore, each individual has, so to speak, his very life apportioned to him. It is only the priests who receive their livelihood, not from tilling their own soil, but from Yahweh himself who is their sole source of life, even of physical life. To put it concretely, the priests live from their portion of the sacrificial victims.and the other cult offerings, in other words from that which has been given over'to God and in which they, as ritual ministers, are entitled to share. Thus two different types of physical livelihood are first of all expressed hire, but both of them neces~sarily lead to a deeper level when viewed from the standpoint of Israel's typical thinking in terms of totality. For the individual Israelite, the land is not merely a guarantee of support. It is his way of participating in the promise which God gave to Abraham and thus his inti-mate involvement in the God-given context in which the Chosen People live their lives. It thus simultaneously becomes the warrant of sharing in God's own vital power. The Levite, in contrast, possesses no land, and in that sense remains without security because he is excluded from earthly guarantees. He is directly and immediately "cast upon Yahweh" and upon him alone, as Psalm 22 says (verse 10). Although in the case of the occupation of the land the guarantee of life can somehow be disconnected from God--at least in the superficial sense of offering an independent type .of security, so to speak--this is impossible in the Levitical form of life: There, God alone is quite directly the warrant of life-- even one's earthly, physica! life depends upon him. If worship were to cease, the very basis of physical life would also disappear. And thus .the life of the Levite isat once p~-ivilege and hazard. Proximity to God in the sanctuary is the sole and direct source and focus of life. On the Strength of His Word / 649 At this point, I think a digression is in order. The terminology of verses five and six is plainly that of the occupation of the land and the different type of sustenance allotted to the tribe of Levi. This means that our psalm' is the song of a priest who expresses therein the physical and spiritual center of his life. The person praying here has not merely interpreted the legal stipula-tions- the external lack of properly, and the living from and for worship in the sense of a certain type of guaranteed livelihood--but has lived all of this in the direction of its real foundation. He has spiritualized the law, gone beyond it toward Christ, precisely by realizing its true content. For us, two things are important about this psalm. First of all, it is a priestly prayer, and secondly, we can here clearly observe how the" Old Testa-ment internally surpasses itself in the direction of Christ, how the Old Cove-nant approaches the New and thus renders visible the unity of salvation history~ To live, not from possessions but from the cult, means for this wor-shipper to live in God's presence, .to locate his existence in the interior approach to him. In this regard, Hans-Joachim Kraus quite rightly points out ¯ that in thiS text the Old Testament reveals the beginnings of a mystical com-munion with God which develops out of the special nature of the Levitical prerogatives? And so Yahweh himse]-f~aa~ becpme the "land" of the worshipper praying this psalm. The next verses clarify what this means in terms of concrete, everyday life. Verse 8 says: "I have set the Lord. always before me." Accord-ingly, the suppliant lives in God's presence; he keeps the Lord constantly before himself. The next phrase varies the same idea by saying: "For he is on my right hand." The core content of these Levitical prerogatives thus proves to be the bei.ng in God's company, the knowing that God is at one's side, asso-ciatirig with him, contemplating him and beipg contemplated by him. Thus God .actually becomes the "land" or the "landscape" of one's own life; thus we dwell and "abide" with him. And at this point the psalm makes contact with what we discovered earlier in .St. John's Gospel. Accordingly, to be a priest means to come to him, to his abode, and thus to learn how to see; to abide in his abode. The precise manner in which this occurs becomes more tangible in the verses which follow. Here, the priest praying the psalm praises the Lord for having "given him counsel," and he thanks the Lord because he has "inst_ructed him:in the night season." With this turn of phrase, both Septuagint and Vulgate texts are plainly thinking of the physical pain which "instructs" men. Education or "instruction" is conceived as a person "being bent into the proper shape" for a truly human existence, and this cannot take place without suffering, In this context, the term "instruction" is intended to be a compre-hensive expression .for leading man to salvation, for that series of transforma, tions ~by which we are changed from clay into the image of God, and thus become capable of eternal union with him. The external rod of the disciplinar-ian is here replaced by the sufferings of life in which God leads us and brings 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 us to dwell with him. All of this recalls that great psalm, of:God's Word, Ps. 119, which we now pray during the week in the hora media. It is actually constructed around the basic statement of the Levite'sexistence: "The Lord is my portion" (v. 57; see also v. 14). Thus we find in abundant variety the basic ideas in which Psalm 16 expounds this reality: "Thy testimor~ies., are my counselors" ( 119: v. 24); "it is good :forme that 1 was afflicted, that 1 might learn thy statutes" (.v. 71); "I know, O Lord, that thyjudgments are right, and that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me" (v. 75). Only then can one grasp the profundity of that petition which recurs like a refrain throughout the psalm: "O teach me thy statutes!" (vv. 12, 26, 29, 33, 64). Wherever life is so truly centered upon God's Word, there it comes about that the Lord "counsels" us. The words of' Scripture are no longer some remote generalities,~but speak quite directly into my life. The Scriptur.es step out of the distance of history and become words addressed to me in person. "The Lord is my counselor"i my very life becomes a word of his. And thus Psalm 16:11 comes true: "Thou dost show me the path of life." Life ceases to bea dark m'ystery. We begin to grasp what it means "to live?' Life opens itself up, and in the midst of all the tribulation of "being instructed," it becomes a joy. "Thy Statutes are.my songs," says Psalm i 19:54, and here in Psalm 16 the situation is not different: "Therefore my heart is glad and my soul rejoices" (v. 9); "In thy presence there is fullness of joy, in thy right hand are pleasures for evermore" (v. II). When we succeed in reading the Old Testament in the light of its central core, and accept God's Word as the landscape of life, then we touch upon him whom we believe to be God'siliving Word. To me it seems~no mere accident that in the ancient Church this psalm became the great prophecy of the Resurrection, a description of the new David and of the definitive priest Jesu~ Christ. To learn to li~,e does not mean to inaster some sort of technique, but rather it ineans to pass beyond death. The mystery of Jesus Christ, his death and his resurrection rise resplendent wherever the suffering of the word and its indestructible 61an vital are experienced. It is therefore unnecessary to make any more applications to our own spirituality. A fundamental component of priestly existence is something resembling the Levite's "apartness," his lack of land, his being ci~st exclusively upon God. The vocation account in St. Luke which we considered earlier closes with the pointed words: "They forsook fill and followed him" (Lk 5:! I). There is no priesthood without such an act of abandonment. Without this sign of uncompromising freedom, the call to imitation is impossible. l think that this point of view renders highly significant, Jindeed makes indispensable, celibacy as being the abandonmerit of an earthly land of future promise, of life in one's own family, so that the basic state of being delivered up to God alone remains intact and becomes quite concrete. This, of course, implies that celibacy m]akes demands on one's entire lifestyle. Celibacy cannot On (he Strength of His Word / 651 fulfill its purpose if, in all other areas, we simply follow the rules of possession and procedure customary in life today. And above all, celibacy cannot last if we do not positively make "settling down with God" to be the center of our lives. Both Psalm 16 and Psalm 119 strongly.emphasize the need for constant meditative association with the Word of God, which cannot become our "homestead" in any other way. The community aspect of liturgical piety which necessarily belongs here is suggested by the reference in Psalm 16 to the Lord as "my cup" (v. 5). In Old Testament diction, this surely refers either to the cup of wine which went r~und at cultic meals, or to the cup of fate, the cup of anger or, of salvation.J0 In this prayer, the priest of the New Testament can find a sp~ci,al reference to that chalice through which the Lord has become our "land" in the most profound sense: the eucharistic chalice in which he distributes himself as our life. Priestly life in God's presence is thus concretized as life in the eucharistic mystery. At bottom the Eucharist is the "land" which has become our portion and of which we may weffsay: "The lines have fallen for ine in pleasant places; yea I have a goodly heritage" (v. 6). And here, two remarks, of fundamental importance emerge. Two Basic Conclusions from th~ Scriptural Texts The Unity of the Two Testaments ~. In my view, aparticularly important aspect of this priestly prayer of the Old and the New Covenant is the fact that here the. inner unity of the two Testaments, the unity of biblical spirituality and its basic manifestations in life, become visible, indeed capable of being lived out in practice. This is so signifi-cant because one of the principal reasons for the exegetically and theologically motivated crisis of the priest's image in recent~times has been precisely the separation of the. Old Testament from the New: Their relationship was seen only in the dialectical tension of opposites, namely "Law" and "Gospel." It was generally agreed that the New Testament ministries had nothing at all to do with the offices in the Old Testament. The fact that one would[ portray the Catholic concept of priesthood as a reversion to the Old Testament was itself regarded as an ironclad refutation of the Catholic idea. It was claimed that Christology meant the definitive abolition of all kinds, of priesthood, the destruction of the boundaries between the Sacred and ~he Profane, and the renunciation of the significance of any history of religions and their ideas of priesthood. Wherever it was possible to point out links between the Church's concept ofothe priest and the OJd Testament, or ideas borrowed from the history of religions, this was done as a sign that Christianity had gone astray in.the ecclesiastical ai'ea; it was urged as proof against the Church's doctrine on the priesthood. But this in fact meant that we were cut off from an entire stream of sources, from biblical piety and indeed from human experience itself. It meant that we were banished into a worldliness whose rigid "Christo-monism" 659 / Review for ReligiousI Sept.-Oct., 1984 actually dissolved 'the biblical image of Christ. This .in .turn is related to the fact that the Old Testament itself had been falsely construed as ~etting forth an opposition between "Law" and "Prophets," whereby "Law" was identified with the cultic and the priestly, while the "Prophetic" element was equated with criticism of cult; and with a pure ethics of humanitarianism that finds God in one's neighbor, not in the Temple. On this basis it was of course possible to refer to thi~ cultic element as "legalism" in contrast to prophetic piety, which was characterized ~is "faith in grace." The result was that the New Testam+nt was relegated to the realm of the anti-cultic, of the purely'humanitarian. In view of this basic attitude, every approach to priesthood :ffas condemned to remain fruitless and unconvincing. The real discussion with this entire~ complex of ideas has not yet taken place. He who prays°the priestlyPsalm 16 along with the other related psalms, especially Psalm 119, will become quite aware of the factthat the supposed ,opposition in principle between priesthood and prophecy of Christology simply collapses upon itself~ This psalm is in fact both fi priestly and a pro-phetic prayer, in which the purest and most profound elements of prophetic piety come to the fore~-but as priestly piety. Since this is so, the psalm is a Christological text. Since this is so, Christianity has since its earliest days regarded this psalm as a prayer of Jesus Christ, which he dedicates anew to us so that we may be permitted to pray it anew with him(see Rv 2:25-29). In this psalm, the new priesthood of Jesus Christ expresses itself prophetically, and in this psalm we can see how in the New Covenant the priesthood, proceeding from Christ, continues to exist in the unity of all salvation history, and indeed must continue to exist~ On the basis of this psalm we can understand that the Lord does not abolish the Law but fulfills it and conveys it anew to the Church, truly "storing it away" in the Church as an expression of grace. The Old Testament belongs to Christ, and in Christ, to us. The faith can live only in the Unity of the Testaments. The Sacred' and th~ Profane And that brings me tO my secofid remark. Once we regain the Old Testament, we must also overcome the disparagement of the Sacred and the mys-tique of the Profane. Naturally Christianity is a l~aven, and the Sacred is not something closed and final but something dynamic. Every priest has been commissioned to "Go, the~refore, and make-disciples of all nations!" (Mt ¯ 28:19). But this dynamism of being sent out, this inner openness and breadth of the Gospel cannot be transposed into the slogan: "Go ye therefore and yourselves become part of the world! Go ye into the world and confirm it in its worldliness!" The contrhry is the.case. The~:e is a sacred mystery of God, the mustard seed of the Gospel, which is not identical with the world but is rather destined to penetrate the whole world. Hence we'must Once more find the courage to acknowledge the Sacred, the courage to distinguish what is Chris-tian-- and that, not in order to separate or to differentiate, but to transform, to On the Strength of His Word /653, be truly dynamic. In an interview given in 1975, Eugene lonescu, a founder of the "Theatre of the Absurd," expressed this with the total passion typical 6f the thirsty, seeking men of our day. 1 quote a few sentences: The Church does not want to lose her customers, she wants to gain new ones. That results in a type of secularization, which is really miserable . The~world is losing itself and the Church loses itself in the world, the parish priests ate stupid and mediocre, leftist petty bourgeois. I have heard a parish priest say in chu.rch, "Let's be happy, let's all shake hands . Jesus wishes each of you a very good day!" It will not be long until someone sets up a bar for communion of bread and wine, and servessandwiches-and Boujolais. To me, that seems unbelievable stupidity and com-pletely non-spiritual. Brotherliness is neither mediocrity nor fraternization. We need the Supra-Temporal, because what is religion or the Sacred? All that remains is nothing; nothing solid, everything is in motion. What we really need, though, is a rock;" In this connection I recall some of the stimulating sentences to be found in Peter Handke's new work, Over the Villages. For example: "Nobody wants us, and nobody ever wanted us. Our houses are trellises of despair standing in emptin~:ss . . . We are not on the wrong road, we are not on any road at all. How forsaken mankind is."~2 I believe that when one hears these voices--voices of men who quite consciously live in the world of today, living, suffering; singing--then it becomes clear that one cannot serve this world with banal officiousness. Such a world does not need corroboration, it needs transformation--the radicality~ of the Gospel. A Concluding Thought: Giving and Receiving (Mk 10:28-31) By way of conclusion, 1 would like to touch briefly upon one more text: Mk 10:28-31. There, Peter says to' Jesus, "Lo, we have left everything and followed you." St. Matthew makes explicit what was obviously the point of the question: "What then shall we have?" (19:27)~ We have already spoken about relinquishing or abandoning, which is an indispensable element of apostolic, priestly spirituality. Let us therefore turn at once to Jesus' astonishi'ng reply. He does not rejrct Peter's question out of hand, as one might expect~ He does not reproach Peter because he expects a reward, but rather admits that Peter is right: "Truly, 1 say to you, there is no one who has left house, or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the Gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life" (Mk 10:29-30). God is magnanimous, and if we look at our lives honestly, then we know that he has indeed repaid every abandonment a hundredfold. He will not allow us to surpass him in generosity. He does not wait for. the world to come in order to repay, but even now gives in return a hundred to one, though in spite of this the world remains the scene of persecutions, sufferings and tribu- 654 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 lations. St. Teresa of Avila expressed this statement of Jesus in the simple formula: "Even in this life, God repays a hundredfold,"~3 All we need is the courage to b~gin by giving our "one,"as Peter did when, on the strength of the Lord's word, he put out once again in the morning--he gave one, and received back a hundred. And so I think that in all our pusillanimity we should constantly beg our Lord for this same courage, and for the faith and confidence that lie therein. And we should thank him for those upon whom he has bestowed this courage, those whom he gives to us as signs of encouragemefit, in Order to invite us to make ouy own leap into the hands of his mercy. NOTES ~From the vast literature on "lrenaeus and Gnosis" see most recently H. J. J~schke, Irenaeus yon Lyon "Die ungeschminkte Wahrheit"(Roma, 1980). 2For the following remarks concerning John 1:35-42. 1 am indebted to the fundamental sugges-tions of C. M. Martini, "Damit ihr Frieden habt. Geistliches Leben nach dem Johannesevange-lium" (Freiburg 1982), pp. 204-9. 31bid, p. 207. 4Cited by ,,Cardinal Suenens "Renouveau et puissance des t~n~bres," Document de Marines 4 (1982), p. 60. On this subject see pp. 37-61 in Suenens" book as well as K. Hemmerle, ~Das Haus des barmherzigen Vaters" (Freiburg. 1982), pp. 17-25. 5The standard translation renders Ps 33:6 (34:5), in light of the Hebrew text, as "look tohim and be radiant," whereas the Lalin Vulgate, following the Septuagint, renders it "Come ye to him and be enlightened." It was precisely the phrase "ye shall be enlightened" which called forth a very strong echo in the philosophy and theology of the Church Fathers, and we are quite justified in regarding this verse in the Septuagint version as one of the key phrases of Christian liturgy and theology. We are of course confronted here with the question of the specific rank to be attributed to the Greek Old Testament. This problem must be reflected upon anew. Noteworthy in this regard is H. Gese, 'tZur biblischen Theologic" (MLinchen 1977), pp. 9-30, esp. 27 ft., and see also P. Benoit, "Exegese und Theol0gie" (Dfisseldorf 1965), pp. 15-22. ~On this see F. Hauck, Koinon~s Ktl.: TWNT 3(1938), pp. 798-810, here especially pp 799, 802, 804. 7JerOme, "In Ps 141," ad neophytos. CChr 78, p. 544. sOn what follows, see H. J. Kraus, "Psalmen I" (Neukirchen-Vluyn 1960), pp. 118-27. '~lbid. p. 123: ~°See H. Gross-H. Reinelt, "Das Buch der Psalmen I" (Diisseldorf 1978)~ pp. 88 ft. ~E. Ionescu, ~Gegengiffe~ (Miinchen, 1979), pp. 158,159. ~2P. Handke, "~lber die Drrfer (Frankfurt, 1981), p~. 94 ft. ~3"Libro de vida," 22/I~ and see U.M. Schiffers, ~Gott liebt beherzte Seelen," Pastoralblat! 34 (1982), p. 294. We Priests Are More Necessary Than Ever John Paul H In the month of February, Pope John Paul twice took up themes of priesthood. Frorfi Februa.ry 13-16, some four hundred priests attended a national convention addressed to the theme, "The Eucharist and the Problems of the Life of Priests Today," spofisored by the Italian Episcopal Conference's Commission for the Clergy, on the last day of which the Holy Father addressed the cqngregants. , ~ ~ Then, on February 23, 1984, to conclude a special Holy Year celebration with priests, the Holy Faiher ¢oncelebrated Mass in St. Peter's Basilica with more than four thousand priests and bishops from, all over the world. This Mass was also marked by a renewal of commitment on the part of all present. The texts of these addresses appeared originally in L'Osservatore Romano, 5 March, 1984. pp. 6 and 8. Beloved Priests: Among the satisfactions that I have been granted to experience during the course of this Jubilee Year, one of the greatest is to be able to meet with the members of the ;clergy, with my confreres.in the priesthood. Very gladly, therefore, in welcoming the request of the organizers of your convention, I am here among you to let you know in a tangible way that the pope is near you, follows you in your work, shares your joys, your anxieties, your fears, at such a significant time for the life of the Church. Your meeting in Rome has taken, place in the deeply spiritual climate of this year of grace that is now approaching its end, and I sincerely rejoice in knowing that you have been engaged during these days in reflection on a theme of such great common interest, "The Eucharist and the Problems of the Life of Priests Today," a theme intended to foster that ever greater commu- ,656/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct, 1984 nion of sentiments and works, that spreading of ideas, that ,exchange and comparison of experiences, which today especially are indispensable for adapting, the exercise of the priestly ministry to the needs, the aspirations, and the development of the ecclesial community. To you, therefore, my greeting, my encouragement and my blessing. But you ce~rtainly are expecting also a word about the specific Subject of your reflections in order to know, through the pope's voice what the Church expects of you today, that you might live ever more effectively and authenti-cally the gift of yourse.lves to the Lord and to souls. This I will very gladly do, expressing to you above all my appreciation for "the objective of your conventiori, which very opportunely coincides with the aim of the Jubilee Year, whose goal, namely, to profit in a more intense way from the benefits of ~he Redemption, is none other than a new, urgent appeal to conversion addressed to all the faithful, and in. particular to priests. If conversion for a priest means returning to the grace of his vocation it-self' in order continually to rediscover the dimensions of the priesthood and to acquire new thrust in his evangelical dynamism,, what greater theme for ~eflection can be offered than the one which makes us bet'ter understand the vital and pr~ofound relationship that unites the priesthood to the Eucharist and the Eucharist to the priesthood? The priest cannot be understood without the Eucharist. The Eucharist is the reaSon for our priesthood. We are born priests in" the eucharistic celebra~.t~on. Our principal ministry and power is oi'dered to the E~cha~:ist. The Eucharist could not exist without us; but without the Eucharist we do not exist, or we are r.educed to lifeless shadows. The priest therefore can never r.e~ach complete fulfillment if the Eucharist does not become the center and root of his .life, so that all his activity is nothing but an,irradiation of the Eucharist. It is important to recall these truths at a time when we hear insidious voices that tend to disregard the primacy of God and of spiritual values in the life and activity 6f the priest. And this happens in the name of adjusting to.the times--which instead is conforming to the spirit of the world, sowing doubts and uncertainties about the true nature of the priesthood, its primary func-tions, its right place, in society. ,Beloved brothers, never let yourselves be influenced'by these theories. Never believe that the yearning for intimate conversation with the eucharistic Je.sus, the hours spent on your knees before the tabernacle, will halt or slow down the dynamism of your ministry. The exact opposite is true.What is given to God is never lost for man. The profound demands of spirituality and the priestly ministry remain substantially unchanged throughout the centuries, and tomorrow, just as today, they will have their fulcrum and their reference point in the eucharistic mystery. It is the grace of ordination that gives the priest the sense Of spiritual fatherhood, through which he presents himself to souls as a father and leads Priests are Necessary / 657 them along the path to heaven. But it is eucharistic love that daily renews his fatherhood and makes it fruitful, transforming him ever more into Christ and like Christ, makes him become the bread of souls, their priest, yes, but also their victim, because for them he is gladly consumed in imitation of him who gave his life for the salvation of the world. In other words, a priest is as good as his eucharistic life, his Mass above all. A Mass without love, a sterile priest. A fervent Mass, a priest who wins souls. Eucharistic devotion neglected and estranged,a priesthood that is in danger and fading. But the centrality of the Eucharist in the life of the priest goes well beyond the sphbre of personal devotion. It constitutes the directing criterion, the permanent dimension of all his pastoral activity, the indispensable means for the authentic renewal of the Christian people. The Second Vatican Council wisely reminds us: "No Christian community can be built up unless it has its basis and center in the celebration of the Most Holy Eucharist. Here, there-fore, all education in the spirit ofcommunity must originate" (Decree Presby-terorum Ordinis, 6): Therefore, if we want Christian love to be a reality in life;,if we want Christians to be a community united in the apostolate and in,the common attitude of resistance to the powers of evil; if we want ecclesial communion to become .an authentic place of encounter, of hearing the Word of God, of .revision of life, of becoming aware of the problems of the Church, every effort must ,be made to give the eucharistic celebration its entire power to express, the event of the salvation of the community. This involves a pastoral program-mingthat will'incorporate the Eucharist into.the dynamics proper to human life, to .personal land communal living: A good catechesis would certainly render the ecclesial community a great service by shedding light on and exter-nalizing the lifestream that exists between the Mass celebrated in Church and the Mass lived out in one's daily commitments,. This is how the eucharistic celebration will be the expression of the living faith of a community that discovers and relives ithe experience of the disciples on the way to Emmaus who recognize their LoCd and master in the breaking of bread (Lk 24:3 I). This is the witness that the Church demands of you today; beloved priests. Always offer this witness readily and generously, in serenity and happiness. It is a beautiful thing.that this commitment is reaffirmed by -you here before the pope, in response to the common expectations of the Jubilee Year, so fruitful in graces. I encourage you to resume your work in the sacred ministry with a spirit of faith and sacrifice: I will pray for you to Mary most holy, Queen of Apostles, that she will help you to persevere in your holy .resolutions, and as she proclaimed the greatness of the Lord through the gift of the Savior and kept every word in her heart and served him with love and complete dedication, so may you also beable to express your joy in thanksgiving for the Eucharist you celebrate by ever.more deeply rooting your life andyour apostolate in it. With my apostolic Blessing. 658 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 II The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good tidings to the afflicted; He has sent meto bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captivesr and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor (Is 61:1-2). Dear, brothers in the grace of the Sacrament of the Priesthood: A year ago I addressed to you the letter for Holy Thursday (1983), asking you to proclaim, together with myself and all the bishops of the Chu. rch, the Year of the R(demption: the extraordinary Jubilee, the Year of the Lord's Favor. Today I wish to thank you for what you have done in order to ensure that this Year, which recalls to us the 1950th anniversary of the Redemption should really be "the Year of the Lord's Favor," the Holy Year. At the same time, as I meet you.at this concelebration, the climax of your Jubilee pilgrim-age to Rome, 1 wish to renew.with you and make still more vivid the aware-ness of.the mystery of the Redemption. the livingand life-giving source of the sacramental priesthood in which each one of us shar~es. In you who have gathered here, no.t only from Italy but also from other countries and continents, I see all priests: the entire presbyterate of the univer, sal Church. And I address myself to all with the words of encouragementoand exhortation of the Letter to the Ephesians: Brothers, "I. beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called" (Ep 4:1): We too--who have been called to serve others in the spiritual renewal of the Year of the Redemption, need to be renewed, throfigh the grace of the Year, in our blessed vocation. I will sing of your steadfast love, 0 Lord, forever (89:1). This verse of the responsorial psalm of today's liturgy reminds us that we are in a special way "servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God" (1 Co 4:!), that we are men of the divine economy of salvation, that we are conscious "instruments" of grace, that is of the Holy Spirit's action in the power of Chri.st's Cross and Resurrection. : . What is this divine economy, what is the grace, of our Lord Jesus. Christ-- the grace which it was his wish to link sacramentally to our priestly life and to our priestly service, even though it is performed by men who are so poor, unworthy? Grace, as the psalm of today's liturgy proclaims, is a proof of the fidelity of God himself to that eternal Love with,which he has loved creation, and in particular man, in his eternal Son. The psalm says: "For your steadfast love was established forever, your faithfulness is firm as the heavens" (Ps 89:2). This faithfulness of his love--his merciful love--is also faithfulness to the Covenant that God made from the beginning with man, and which he renewed many times, even though man so many times was not faithful to it. Priests are Necessary / 659 Grace is thus a .pure gift .of,Love, which only in Love itself, and in nothing else, finds its reason and motivation. The psalm exalts the Covenant which God made with David, and at the same time, through its messianic content, it shows how that historical Cove-nant is only a stage and a foretelling of the perfect Covenant in Jesus Christ: "He shall Cry to me, 'You are my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation~'" (Ps 89:26). Grace, as a gift, is the foundation of the elevation of man to the dignity of an adopted child of God in Christ, the only-begotten Son. "My faithfulness and my steadfast love shall be with him and in my name shall his power be exalted" (Ps 89:24). Precisely this power that makes us become children of God, as is spoken of in the Prologue to Saint John's Gospel--the enti~:e salvific powder--is con-ferred upon humanity in Christ, in the Redemption, in the Cross and Resurrection. And we--Christ's servants--are its stewards. The priest: the man of the economy of salvation. The priest: the man formed by grace. The priest: the steward of grace! I will sing of your steadfaJt love, 0 Lord, forever. Our vocation is precisely this. In this consists the specific nature, the originality of the priestly vocation. It is in a special wayrooted in the mission of Christ himself, Christ the Messiah. "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; he has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound., to comfort all who mourn~' (Is 61:!-2). In the very heart of this messianic mission of Christ the Priest is rooted in our vocation and mission too: the vocation and mission of.the priests of the New and Eternal Covenant, It is. the vocation and mission of the proclaimers of the Good News: - of those who must bind up the wounds of human hearts; - of those who must proclaim liberation in the midst of all the many afflictions, in the .rriidst of the evil that in so many ways "holds" man prisoner; , - of those who must console. This is our vocation and mission as servants. Our vocation, dear brothers, includes a great and fundamental service to be offered to every human being.t Nobody can take our place. With the Sacrament of the New and Eternal Covenant we must go to the very roots of human existence on earth. Day by day, we must bring into that existence the dimension of the Redemption and the Eucharist. We must strengthen awareness of divine filiation through grace. And what higher prospect, what finer destiny could there be for man than this? 661~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct,. 1984 Finally, we must administer the sacramental reality of reconciliation with God, and the sacramental reality of Holy Communion, in which the deepest longing of the "insatiable" human heart is met. Truly, our priestly anointing isdeeply rooted in the very messianic anoint-ing of Christ. Our priesthobd is ministerial. Yes, we must serve. And "to serve" means to bring man to the very foundations of his humanity, to the deepest essence of his dignity. It is precisely there .that--through our service--the song "of praise instead of a faint spirit" must ring out,'to use once more the~words of the text of Isaiah (61:3). We Act with the Power of Christ Dearly beloved brothers! Day after day, year after year, we discover the content and substance which are truly inexpressible of our priesthood in the depths of the mystery of the Redemption. And I hope that the present Year of the extraordinary Jubilee will serve this purpose in a special way! Let us open our eyes ever wider--the eyes of our soul--in order to under-stand better what it means to celebrate the Eucharist, the sacrifice of Christ himself, entrusted to our priestly lips and hands in the community of the Church. Let us open our eyes ever wider--the eyes of our soul--in order to under-stand better what it means to forgive sins and reconcile human consciences with the infinite Holy God, with the God of Truth and Love. Let us open our eyes,ever wider--the eye~ of our soul--in order'to under-stand better what it means to act in persona Christi in the name of Christ: to act with his powers-with the power which, in a word, is rooted in the salvific ground .of the Redemption. Let us open our eyes ever ~wider--the eyes of our soul--in order to under-stand better what the mystery of the Church is. We are men of the Church! "There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the One hope that belongs to your call, one Lord,'one faith, one baptism,one 15od and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all" (Eph 4:4-6). Therefore: seek "to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace" (Eph 4:3). Yes. Precisely this in a special way depends on you: "to maintain the unity of the Spirit." At a time of great tensions that affect.,the earthly body of humanity, the Church's most important service springs frbm the ':unity of the Spirit," so that not only she herself will not suffer division coming from outside but she will also reconcile and unite people in the midst of the adversities 'that increase around them andwithin themselves in today's world. My brothers! To each of us "grace was given. ~ according to the measure of Christ's gift., for building up the body of Christ'~ (Ep 4:7-12). May we be faithful to this grace! May we be heroically faithful to this Priests are NecessaO, / ~ grace! My brothers! It is a great gift that°God has given to us, to each of us! So great that every priest can discover in himself the signs of a divine predilection. Let each one of us basically preserve his gift in all the wealth of its expressions: including the magnificent gift of celibacy voluntarily consecrated to the Lord--and received from him~for our sanctification and for the build-ing up of the Church. Christ is More Necessary Than Ever! Jesus Christ is in our midst and he says to us: "1 am the good shepherd" (Jn I0:I 1-14). It is precisely he who has "made" shepherds oLus too. And it is he who goes about all the cities and villages (see Mt 9:35), wherever we are sent in order to perform our priestly and pastoral service. It is he, Jesus Christ, who teaches ~!. : preaches the' Gospel of the kingdom and heals every human disease and infirmit3~'(see ibid), wherever we are sent for the service of the Gospel and the admihistration of the sacraments. It is precisely he, Jesus Christ, who ,continually feels compassion for the crowds and for every tired ahd exhaiasted person, like "sheep without a shep-herd" (see Mt 9:36). Dear brothers! In this. !liturgical assembly of ours let us ask Christ for just one thing: that each of' us may learn to serve better, more clearly and more effectively, his presence as Shepherd in the midst of the people of today's world! This is also most importan~t., for ourselves, ,so that~we may not be ensnared by ttie temptation of "uselessness," that is to :s0y.the temptation to feel that we are not needed. Because it is not true. We,~are more necessary than ever because Christ is more necessary than ever! We have in our hands--precisely in our "empty hands"---the power of the means of action that the Lord has given to us. Think of the~word of God, sharper than a twg-edged sword (see Heb 4:12); think of liturgical prayer, especially the Prayer of the. Hours, in which Christ himself prays with us and for us;' and think of the sacraments, in particular the sacrament of penance, the true life buoy for so many cofisciences, the haven towards which so many people also of our own time are striving. Priests should once more give great importance to,this sacrament, for the sake of their own spiritua.l life and that of the faithful. There is no doubt about it, dear br6thers: with the good use of these "poor means" (~bu! divinely powerful ones) you will see blossoming along your path the wonders of the infinite Mercy. And also the gift of new vocations! With this awareness, in this shared prayer, let us listen once more to the words which the Master addressed to his disciples: "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; pray therefore the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest" (Mr 9!37,38)~ 669 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 How relevant these words are in our time, too! So let us pray! And let the whole Church :pray with us! And in this pra.yer may there be manifested awareness, renewed by the Jubilee, of the mystery of the Redemption. Renewal of Priestly Promises During the concelebrated Holy Year Mass for priests, after the Pope's homily, the Hol.v Father led the priests in the renewal_of their priestly promises. Following is the form that was used. Dearly beloved brothers: Through a most special gift of Christ, teacher, priest and shepherd, you have been called to the Order of Priesthood. Every day you must make yourselves more worthy of this vocation of yours and renew your commit-ment to the service of the People of God. May the Spirit of Holiness always assist you, that you may be able .to fulfill with his help what through his gift you have promised with joy . Therefore, during this Jubilee celebration of the Holy YeAr of the Redemption, do you, ministers of Christ and administrators of the mysteries of God, recalling the day of youro,priestly ordination, intend to renew the promises you made before the bishop and the People of God? Priests: 1 do. Do you intend to unite yourselves intimately to the Lord Jesus, model of our priesthood, denying yofirselves and strengtfiening the commitments which,, urged by the love of Christ, you have freely assumed toward his Church? Priests: I do. Do you intend,, in particular, to strengthen the holy commitment of celi-bacy, as a testimony of iovb for Christ with an undivided heart .and as a guarantee of interior freedom for a fuller ecclesial service, in joyful e~xpectation of the kingdom promised? Priests: ! do. Do you intend to be faithful dispensers of the mysteries of God ihrough the celebration of the Eucharist and the other liturgical actions, and to fulfill the ministry of the Word of Salvation after the example of Christ, head and shepherd, letting yourselves be guided not by human interests, but by love for your brothers and sisters? Priests: 1 do. Then addressing the deacons and seminarians, the Holy Father asked: And you deacons and seminarians, who have generously accepted Christ's call to follow him more closely in order to become ministers of the New and Priests are Necessary/663 Everlasting Covenant. do you intend to persevere, with his help along the path you have undertaken? Deacons and Seminarians: 1 do. And the Holy Father asked the faithful present: And do you, dear faithful, do you intend to pray always for your priests, that the Lord may shower upon them the abundance of his gifts, that they may be faithful ministers of Christ the High Priest and lead you to him, the only source of salvation? Faithful: 1 do. Then to the whole assembly, the Holy Father said." Do you also intend to pray for me that I may be faithful to the apostolic service entrusted to my lowly person, and become among you more everyday a living and authentic image of Christ the High Priest and lead you to him, the only source of salvation? All: 1 do. The Holy Father then concluded: May the Lord keep us in his love and lead all us, shepherds and flock, to eternal life. All solemnly sang: Amen! Amen! Amen! Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantielio Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Room 428 6301 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Cruciform Obedience Boniface Ramsey, O.P. This is the third of Father Ramsey's articles on the vows of religious perceived through a Christocentric focus. These three articles will be brought together and offered as a single reprint, the details of which are given elsewhereSn this issue. ~ , Father Ramsey continues to reside in the Dominican House of Studies; 487 Michigan Avenue~ N.E.: Washington, DC 20017~ n two previous issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I discussed the vows of poverty and celibacy from a Christocentric perspective.~ In this issue I would like to complete a trilogy by speaking of obedience from very much the same~ perspective. Of the three great vows, there is little doubt that obedience is the most difficult both to execute and to reflect upon. Probably it has caused more suffering than either poverty or celibacy. For whereas th6 Struggle attendant upon poverty and celibacy may be waged complet~!.y withiia the person of the religious who is fighting to subdue his or her passions, ob~lience is the vow that, so to speak, intrudes another person (the superior) in(o the life of the religious--a person who, at least in times pa~t~ was understood to have a quasi-universal control over one's life. How often this control was abused, and on what flimsy pretexts! Even.the superior:s own sanctity was no guarantee that he or she might not act in the most arbitrary fashion. And from this arbitrariness there was usually little recourse. Small wonder that a desire to escape out from under the excessive "demands of obedience and to regain a sense of one's own independence has been the primary cause for many choosing to leave religious life. This is the case, moreover, even where obedience, is not objectively abusive, or even p~rceived as such, for obedience can hardly be perceived as not touching upon human autonomy, a strong rei~lization of which is absolutely necessary to proper human behavior and to self-respect. 664 Cruciform Obedience / 665 Frequently it happens that, when no other means of expression seems possible, this independence or autonomy is asserted by the religious through acts contrary to poverty or celibacy, which are then mistakenly understood to be the person's problem area. This suggests that obedience is the most basic of the vows, and indeed maybe it is. It is a classical teaching, in any event, that poverty and celibacy in fact touch upon rather narrower aspects of the human personality than does obedience? Whether this remains true even when poverty and celibacy are construed as broadly as 1 have tried to construe them in my two previous articles is a moot point. What is certain is that poverty and celibacy deal with relatively easily recognizable specifics, whereas obedience is occupied with something far less tangible, or at least with an area of our nature with which we are much less familiar--or are much more hesitant to face. It must be said from the start that the reason why obedience is so difficult is that human life is so radically marked by disobedience. "1 find it to be a law," Paul writes in Romans (7:2 i-23), "that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members." In The Oty of God Augustine ~emarks that the original sin was one of disobedience impelled by pride. The result of this-original diSobedience, he goes on to say, is a terrible disharmony within the human person: In a word. what is the punishment for that sin of disobedience but disobedience? For what other human misery is there but the disobedience of a person to himself--so that, because he did not wish what he was able to do. now he wishes what he is unable to do? For in paradise, even if he was unable to doall things before the sin. y~t he did'not wish to do whatever he was unable to do: and therefore he was able to do everything that he wished to do. But now, as we recognize in his offspring~ and as Holy Scripture testifies, a human being is like vanity. For who can count how many things he wishes to do that he cannot do, since he is not obedient to himself--that is, since his very mind and his flesh (which is inferior to it) do not obey his will? For. despite himself, his mind is greatly afflicted, and his flesh suffers and grows old and dies. And we would not be suffering unwillingly whatever else we suffe.r if our nature completely and every respect obeyed our will.3 Whoever has not lived this conflict, to a greater or lesser degree, has not lived reflectively. Disobedience, then, is part of human nature. According to Augustine, the very illimitable desires that contribute to human transcendence and that set the human being apart from other earthly creatures~ are, on their shadow side, stumbling blocks and provocations to overweening demands that cannot be satisfied and that must qualify as the urgings of disobedience, of sin. Sad to say, as tragic as this disharmony is, we nevertheless learn to live with it. It is a disharmony that is, after all, part of us and familiar to us. We could hardly imagine living with those overweening demands, not stifled (which would render us inhuman), but under control--in that state of tense 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 and watchful virtue that the Greek Fathers referred to as apatheia. So radi-cated in our nature is this disharmony that we purposefully and self-right, eously pursue the wrong things as though they were good for us. So radicated is it that--the upshot is--to correct it is to act contrary to our nature, a process that causes intense pain. We are like a man whose broken leg has been set improperly. The man learns to walk with a limp and can, indeed, go about with relative ease, yet the limp in turn becomes responsible for 'a gradual deterioration in other areas of the body. For health to be restored, to the extent possible, the leg must be broken again and reset. Learning obedience is like breaking and setting a limb that has already been broken and set once before. This is surely the insight of the Desert Fathers, e~pecially as it is,implied in a narrative such as the following, which dates from the fourth or fifth century: It was said of the abba John the Dwarf that, having gone off to Scet~ to an old man of Thebes, he remained in the desert. His abba took a dry stick and planted it and told him: "Water this every day with a flask of water until it bears fruit." But the water was so far away that he would leave in the evening and return in the morning. After three years, though, it came to life and bore fruit. And the old man took the fruit, carried it to " the church'~ahd said to the brethren: "Take and cat the fruit of obedience."4 The story of the dry stick is a famous one, perhaps even a frightening one, for it seems to smack more than a little of the arbitrary exercise of authority that we mentioned earlier. The distinction betWeen the old/nan of Thebes and a neurotic novice-master or novice-mistress might be hard to discern from the outside, but presumably the motivation is different. Whatever goal the latter may be pursuing, the old man of Thebes was concerned with the painful restoration of human nature, the resetting of a once broken limb, and John was his willing disciple. The story of the 'dry stick compels us to confront the mysterious and unavoidable link there is between obedience and suffering. What we hear of John the Dwarf and his three years of toil imposed by his abba is no more than what we hear of Jesus himself, whose own suffering and death are so frequently ex'pressed in terms of obedience. Jesus' agony in Gethsemane is nothing other than the struggle to be obedient to his Father: "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Mt 26:39). So it is also characterized in the great hymn of Philippians: "And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Ph 2:8). It appears likewise in the Letter to the Hebrews: "Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered" (Heb 5:8). The difference, of course, between Jesus and John the Dwarf or any other human being is that Jesus' obedience was not therapeutic or restorative, since he was without sin and its tragic effects, whereas our obedience is precisely for the sake of our sinfulness. Yet even for Jesus to drink deeply of the cup of human nature, his obedience had to entail suffering, as ours does. Based upon the model of Jesus himself, we may say that to be obedient is Cruciform Obedience / 667 to submit to the cross, with all its mystery and suffering. We may also say that the cross is the thing outside of us, the thing which is representative of God's will and which intrudes disturbingly upon us. Inasmuch as it is identical with God's will it is an objective good, the objective good. It is, indeed, the great objectivity that we refuse because of our own self-centeredness. It is the great objectivity to which we must conform ourselves and which we must put within ourselves if we are ever to have peace, as expressed in the words of Dante: "In his will is our peace.'~ And it is the process of interiorizing what is presently exterior to us that does us violence and causes us pain. This means shoulder-ing the cross--not the cross of our own choosing (which, after all, would be the product of our subjectivity) but the ineluctable cross of God's choosing, for only in that cross is his will, and hence our peace, certain. In the case of John the Dwarf the cross was an adherence to the absurd demand of the old man of Thebes. In the case of Jesus it was a willingness to set his face to go to Jerusalem (see Lk 9:51), with what that implied of suffering and death, because this was the Father's destiny for him. Perhaps religious men :and women today, in contrast to religious men and women of twenty or more years ago, think of obedience for the most part as a vow that is rarely exercised. Itcomes up when a person is transferred from one assignment to another, and even that is usually done with consultation. Oth-erwise superiors make demands with relative infrequency, and they hardly dream of asking the very difficult, never mind the absurd or the impossible. Obedience is invoked almost exclusively as a functional necessity, and so it has come to be seen: it is required for the smooth operation of a religious house or an apostolate--entities that ordinarily run themselves'without the intervention of a "higher authority." But the view that religious obedience is an occasional or a functional thing is as erroneous as the view that poverty and celibacy are occasional or functional. Obedience, instead, like poverty and celibacy, is a constant disposition. In my previous articles 1 suggested that poverty and celibacy represented an attachment to Christ as human and as desirable respectively; consequently they are dispositions that have a quality of permanence and that are always operative. Obedience too is a constant and always operative disposition, spe-cifically with regard to the will of the Father, which in turn implies the cross. For, in Jesus' own experience, the cross was not merely at the end of his life but rather was the end to which his whole life was directed; it colored his life and, we might even say, gave it its meaning. If.we think of the Father's will as something constantly set before us to be accomplished---because therein consists the only restoration of our dishar- " mony and thus the only possibility of our happiness--we shall no longer conceive of oi~edience as a sporadic or occasional thing. Where do we discern this will? The traditional answer, of course, is that we discern it in the laws and customs of the Church, in Scripture as it is properly interpreted, in the constitutions and customs of one's particular religious con- 661~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 gregation, in the daily schedule or horarium, in the demands of one's assign7 ments, in the will of the superior as that is legitimately expressed, in the promptings of one's own conscience, in requests that are made of us and that it is possible for us to fulfill without difficulty. Similar things could be added along these lines. But these are by no means the only instances of the divine will, as though it were concerned only with some things and not others. The divine will is expressed in every aspect of reality, in every objective thing that occurs, that it behooves us to accept and somehow take into ourselves. Thus we must hearken to and obey the reality of other people's personalities, which are not our own and hence are often h~rd to appreciate; the outcome of elections and other such processes in which we may have taken positions opposed to the prevailing view; accidents that could not be avoided; the weaknesses that burden us as we get sick or grow old; the vagaries of the weather and of other natural phenomena. These things too are manifestations of God's will that are proper subjects of our obedience, that it profits us nothing to complain about or rail against. In them, indeed, there is a loving design for us. Although the "objectivities" mentioned are all unpleasant or at least diffi-cult, and one or two even tragic, we could as well say that God's will is also expressed in the many good things that befall us--in friendships and successes of various sorts, for example. Yet since these are so often things that we ourselves have had a hand in bringing about, or that we would gladly have brought about if we could, they do not have the same quality.of objectivity as do the others. Nor is there question of bending our will to them, and for that reason there is perhaps no question of obedience either. According to this way of thinking, then, we could characterize obedience in terms of "patient endurance." It is the vow by which the religious person promises to accept the reality that can be identified with the divine will, and that inevitably brings with it the cross. Moreover, the religious makes this promise in the firm conviction that in enduring or accepting this total reality, he or she will find the peace that the world cannot give (see John 14:27). All of reality, the whole of the universe, is in fact permeated with the mystery of the cross: This is a theme common in the earliest Church, and expressed strikingly by lrenaeus at the end of the second century when he writes: And because [Christ] is himself the Word of God almighty, who, in his invisible form, pervades us universally in the whole world, and encompasses both its length and breadth and height and depth--for by God's Word everything is disposed and adminis-tered- the Son of God was also crucified in these, imprinted in the form of a cross on the universe: for he had necessarily, in becoming visible~ to bring to light the universal-ity of his cross in order to show openly through his visible form that activity of his: that it is he who makes bright the height, that is, what is in heaven, and holds the deep, which is in the bowels of the earth, and stretches'forth and extends the length from east to west, navigating also the northern parts and the breadth of the south, and calling in all the dispersed from all sides to the knowledge of the Father.6 Cruciform Obedience / 669 Where Christ is, there is the cross: it cannot be avoided; it is wriften even across the face of our joys. Do we not acknowledge the dominance of the cross in our lives, do we not symbolically submit ourselves to it when we sign ourselves with it from forehead to breast and from shoulder to shoulder? The principal .objection to what has been said thus far must surely be that it appears to foster passivity--a kind of mindless, heedless acceptance of and submission to Whatever comes one's way. It must be added, then, that Jesus' own obedience to his destipy, which was the reality of the cross that constantly intruded into his life, was not mindless or fatalistic. We know from the gospels that Jesus was always aware of what he was doing and that he approached this painful destiny in complete freedom. He offered himself freely to the Father, although not without a struggle, as the episode in Gethsemane tells us, to conform his will to the Father's. The sovereignty of Jesus' obedience is wonderfully manifested in the most ancient depictions of the'crucifixion, dating from the fifth century, where he is shown on the cross as a figure in.complete possession of himself--not hanging in agony but erect, and with a noble and peaceful countenance. Yet it is important to realize, asthe gospels inform us, that Jesus endured suffering on the cross. The ancient artists only stressed, one aspect of the crucified one. Moreover, it was Jesus' custom to make his disciples conscious of the sufferings that lay before them, so that they too might be free to accept the cross or not. It is clear from his example, therefore, that Jesus did not consider obedience to be an abdication of self. That Christian obedience is not passivity is still more clearly illustrated from the fact that, in numerous instances, Jesus actually resisted what other-wise might have been construed as his "destiny." That is, he often spoke against those who opposed him rather than simply bear their provocations in silence. This resistance on Jesus' part introduces an element of complexity into the practice of obedience. It suggests that there are times when religious obedience may be modified by some sort of resistance. When this may legiti-mately occur is problematic; it is a classic instance of the conflict between conscience and authority, particularly inasmuch as the authority here con-cerns the subject of areligious vow. This is, nonetheless, in keeping with the doctrine of the divine permissive will, which teaches that God permits evil to occur and to run its course, evenif he does not countenance it. This pe.rmissive will, to the extent that we may call it a will at all, may in many circumstances be resisted--although if Matthew 5:39 is to be taken seriously, it ought not always to be resisted. One thing, however, is certain in this regard: one may not resist an author-ity merely because it imposes something that is difficult or painful upon the one who is expected to obey. Suffering in and of itself, unless it is qualified in some significant way (if it were seen to be unbearable, for example, or if it would somehow radiate out to others who ought not to be affected by it), is insufficient reason for opposing an authority. If one were to resist an authority 6711 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 merely on account of the foreseen suffering (assuming its bearability and so forth), one would in effect be seeking to empty obedience of its content, and one may no more seek to do this than to empty Christianity of the cross. In fact, Jesus' own resistance, his refusal to endure certain unjust situa-tions, hastened his destiny rather than delayed it, and Jesus himself seems to have known this~ What this suggests, while not condoning passivity, is that the authority has the benefit of the doubt vis-a-vis the person placed under obedience. The-presumption on the part of the one who obeys should be that the assignment imposed is to be carried out except under certain unusual circumstances. On the other hand, the person in authority ought not to misperceive the desire to talk about an, assignment, or about any other imposed obedience, as a sheer unwillingness to obey. For the superior is also obliged to obedience, and specifically to the obedience of ministry--which includes listening. In sum, we are left with this, that religious obedience partakes of the mystery of the cross--"mystery" at least in part because it is so often absurd and inexplicable. Although human insight may show us that there is in each of us a terrible disharmony that causes us suffering, nothing but faith can tell us that the divine plan which includes the cross is a plan for our good, and one that will :ultimately bring us peace and harmonY. Indeed, only faith tells us that the things to which we must submit are from God, since we ~would often just as soon avoid them by asserting that they have nothing to do with God at all--that they come from superiors who do not understand "us, or that ~they represent situations that ought to be~changed instead of endured. Only this kind of faith will make obedience work. For the truth is that we must be obedient anyway to objectivity and reality as these have been under-stood in .this essay. We cannot control other people's personalities, or the weather, or our own health and well-being. We cannot avoid the cross, which is omnipresent, unless we choose to retreat into an imaginary world of our own making; and even then it is doubtful that we would succeed in our escape! The wisest thing that we can do is to set our faces to go to Jerusalem, for the cross is best borne willingly. Conclusion Two themes have been common to these three essays on poverty, celibacy, and obedience. The first theme is that of the Christocentric ~nature of the vows of religion. The person of Christ is the specific ;reason for a Christian and a religious to choose to do even what he or she might otherwise have decided to do--since poverty, celibacy, and obedience can make sense quite apart from the Christocentric context. But they make sense only to the extent that any-thing without Christ makes sense to the Christian--they cry out for comple-tion, for Christ is Alpha and Omega. In the case of obedience, we may translate "Christocentric" as "staurocen-tric'-- a word we have coined from stauros, meaning cross. The distinction Cruciform Obedience / 671 between Christo- and stauro-centric is a very fine one. In fact, the cross, thus understood, cannot be conceived apart from Christ. It is true that Christocentric seems to emphasize the person of Christ in a way ~hat staurocentric does not. In poverty and celibacy as I have written of them, we seem to touch Christ directly as the object of our love and desire, whereas in obedience it is the will of God, symbolized by the cross, which is the goal of our actions. In commenting on this, three observations must be made. Firstly, in embracing the cross we do the same thing that Jesus did and love the same divine will that he loved. We imitate him. Secondly, before Jesus was crucified it was possible, indeed proper, to think of the cross solely as something horrible. But since his crucifixion he has stamped this instrument of suffering ineradicably with his own personality. Finally, the divine will is not something abstract or impersonal, as though we were obeying a computer. Rather it is identified with God himself, who is personal, and whose personality is love (see ! .In 4:8). For these reasons, then, we can say that obedience, like poverty and celibacy, has its focus in a person--whether the person is seen as Christ, or as God.This focus is absolutely necessary for the religious, for it gives a meaning to life that nothing else can. We live ultimately for persons. The second theme common to these three essays and to the three vows discussed in them is that of mystery. In large part we are speaking here, not of a good that is fully able to be grasped by the intellect alone, but of one that must be perceived and pursued by the emotions as well. But when we speak of the emotions, and of things susceptible to the emotions, we are immediately in the realm of "mystery," as 1 Sugge'sted at the conclusion of the essay on celibacy.7 Because the intellect cannot grasp fully the divine mystery, love must make up--to the extent that this is possible--for what the intellect cannot seize. This divine mystery, in turn, has for its subject, not a project or an ideal, but rather the divine personality--for only a person has the infinite depth and infinite capacity for change that defines the mysterious. Projects and ideals, on the other hand, are soon exhausted. If this depth and inexhaustibility are central to the human personality, as anybody who has ever been in love realizes, how much more central are they to the divine personality! This is the truth that the vows must affirm and mirror: in the end, we do not commit ourselves to Christ or God for any other reason than himself. And this reason is inexplicable to anyone who does not love, who has not seen the mystery, and has not been seized by it.8 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 NOTES ~See "The Center of Religious Poverty," in 42 (1983) 534--544, and "Christocentric Celibacy," in 43 (1984) pp. 217-224. 2See; e.g. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae 2-'~, q. 186, a. 8. 3De cir. Dei 14.15. 4Apophthegmata Patrum. De abbate Joanne Colobo I (PG 65.203), 5One may also recall the motto of Pope John XXIlh "Obedience and peace." 6Proof of the Apostolic Preaching 34, trans~ by J. P. Smith, in Anciem Christian Writers 16 (Westminster, Md., 1952)pp. 69-70. 7See "Christocentric Celibacy," pp. 223-224. ~This essay, completed on the day of his ordination to the priesthood, is dedicated to Kevin Kraft, O.P, Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Renewal of Contemplative Orders Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O. Abbot Keating was formerly abbot of the Trappist monastery in Spencer, MA. His last article in our pages, "Cultivating the Centering Prayer" (January, 1978) was written while there. Presently he resides at St. Benedict's Monastery: Snowmass, CO 81654. Part I: Monastic World Views The monastic vocation is a personal intuition into the mystery of Christ's invitation to follow him along the radical lines proposed in the Gospel. One may not be able to articulate the reason why one wants to be a monk or nun and yet have a true call from Christ. Or again, two people may articulate entirely different motives for wanting to enter a monastery, and both may .have a true call from Christ. The reason for this,is the fact that monastic values can be articulatCd in more than one world view or conceptual frame of reference. Obviously, one's response to the monastic call has to be expressed in somoframe of reference, but it must always be kept in mind that no one set of structures fully expresses'the mystery of that call. It would be a mistake, therefore, to identify the mystery of the monastic vocation with any one particular set of symbols or structures. Many cloistered monks and nuns in monasteries of the contemplative lifestyle are unaware that a radical shift in Western thinking has taken place over the last fifty or sixty years. This shift is centered in the development of historical consciousness. In the words of David Tracy, "This phenomenon can be described as man's realization that individually he is responsible .for the life he leads, and collectively he is responsible for the world in which he leads it."~ A significant part of this change of perspective is due to the discoveries of modern science, the development of historical criticism, and the shift in philos-ophy and theology from a static world view to an evolutionary one. Paul Tillich has given the names heteronomic and autonomic to the two compre- 673 674 /~Reviewfor Religious; Sept.-Oct., 1984 hensive world views that are polarized in contemporarythinking. The tension arising from these opposing world views appears in the Church at large, but especially in religious and monastic life, where tensions within the Catholic world community tend to be emphasized. The conflict is not merely between liberal and conservative positions, but is much more profound. It arises from the unquestioned assumptions of two completely opposite ways of looking at the world and at oneself, each of which lays claim to one's deepest loyalties. The heteronomic world view, which was commonly held by the Catholic community until fifty or sixty years ago, is essentially a negative world view; or to be more exact, it is an other-worldly world view. It sees the sacred as opposed to the profane. Thus it seeks to reject the profane in order to find God, and as a consequence, emphasizes the value of renunciation. The present world is perceived as a sinful environment which has to be rejected. In a monastic milieu, this conviction translates into an attitude of determined separation from the world and the studied avoidance of any involvement in the society of one's time and in its problems. Since the primary focus of this world view is eternity, preparing for the life to come is conceived as the principal, or even the only, duty of a monk or nun. In either case, it follows that the legitimate pleasures of life must be renounced in order to find God. Thus, austerity of life and ascetical practices become the norm of spiritual progress and the touchstone of genuine dedication to God. This world view, developed and exemplified by the monks of the fourth century, had a significant influence on the spirituality of the Church as a whole. The formation of the liturgy; for instance, was influenced by this viewpoint. Catholic education was imparted and still, in large part, is imparted 'from this viewpoint. Most young people applying to monasteries today, however, are influ-. enced, at least in some degree, by the autonomic world view. The autonomic world view is the result of the gradual secularization of religious symbols, rituals, and institutions, together with the development of the historical con-sciousness. In this perspective, the profane is sacred. Renunciation of the good things of human .life is regarded as unrealistic or irrelevant. The positive aspects of the present world, rather than its evident evils, are emphasized. Time is the opportunity to change both ourselves and the society in which we live. Our personal decisions and actions make history and the future. Conse-quently, we have to assume personal responsibility for what happens to us and to the world. We are part of a process (evolution), and in order to reach true personal fulfillment, we have to take into account the well-being of the com-munity in which we live. Moreover, the community for which we are respon-sible is gradually extending itself, through mass communication and travel, to embrace the whole human family. The development and the shaping of the world community is, therefore, a profoundly religious and contemplative con-cern. Eternal life is not only in the future, but immanent in time. Moreover, there is a strong tendency to reject the patterns and lifestyles of the past as The Renewal of Contemplative Orders / 675 adequate paradigms for the future: Translated into a monastic milieu, this world view has a genuine attraction for the fundamental values of monastic life, but tends to distrust the tradi-tional structures in which they were enshrined. It rejects any kind of isolation, while esteeming the value of true solitude. Permanent commitment is a special problem for people~ with this perspective, because they feel a responsibility to adjust to the future as it becomes present. To commit oneself in advance to a single lifestyle or to one expression of monastic values seems to them a refusal to take,,responsibility for themselves and for what God might some day call them tO do. They want to be free to respond to the future in ways that may be new or even incompatible witha particular:monastic lifestyle that, in principle, can never be changed. Each of these world views has much to recommend it. Each sees the truth from a particular cultural perspective. Neither can claim to be a complete view of the mystery of the monastic vocation. Both have limitations which must be transcended in order to reach human integration and the fullness of the christian life. It is interesting to note that during his'monastic lifetime, Tho-mas Merton seems to have moved from a heteronomic to an autonomic world view, and then to have'transcended both. Such is the impression given by his. remarkable essay, "Final Integration," in Contemplation hi A World Of Action, Chapter 13. Elsewhere he writes, "Historical consciousness and con-templation are not incompatible, but. necessary." Father Raimundo Panikkar has discerned another world view in addition to the heteronomic and autonomic world views delineated by Tillich.2 He calls it the ontonomic world view or the contemplative dimension of life. It is a higher perspective, rather than a synthesis of the heteronomic and autonomic world views. It ~is a state of higher consciousness (faith) that integrates the sacred and profane by perceiving the presence of the sacred in ordinary events and .in the most secular of situations. It flows from the awareness of the universe as a unity. Its fundamental attitude is complete detachment--freedom from compulsions, prejudices, and preconceived ideas. The contemplative dimension is a vision of reality in which the "egoic" or false self is no more. The ultimate experience is non-duality. Panikkar characterizes it by the term "tempiternity,'.' which/he identifies as the experience of eternity-and-time in each passing momentand event. To find the eternal in time is the crux of the experience. ~ Translated into a monastic milieu, this experience of mature contemplation must lead to action, even if it is only to transform the local monastic environ-ment. The Contemplative monk seeks to discover what he is, not what he will become. He seeks to cultivate the core of his humanness, which is more than historical existence. Thus, the ontonomic world view is a form of transhistori-cal consciousness. It is outside and above political considerations and histori-cal concerns. At the same time, it does not take a merely negative posture toward institutionalized injustice or the whole evils of contemporary society, 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 but offers a positive alternative by establishing a lifestyle based on the con-templative dimension of, the Gospel. Thus, fuga mundi becomes, not flight from a world that is evil in itself, but flight from the "system" by refusing to be a part of a political or social establishment that supports institutionalized evil. Here is one example of how these world views operate in monastic com-munities. The contemporary monk, influenced consciously or unconsciously by the autonomic world view, feels that he cannot reach his own unique spiritual development without the well-being of the human community of which he is a part. F~or him, a strict, rule .of silence means isolation, not solitude. One of the older monks, having entered the monastery fifter a Catholic education that emphasized the heteronomic approach to life, may look upon him as one who has an exaggerated need for contact with others. For this older monk, picnics and community gatherings with. casual conversa-tion and banter are clearly mitigations of the rule of silence. He cannot wait to get back to his private room, to his books, or to his prayer, because his expectation is that he can attain union with God only through the renunciation of ordinary human society and its legitimate pleasures. The older monk believes in loving his brothers width his will. He may be embarrassed by feelings of affection, and even feel a du.ty to confess them as sins or imperfections. The new arrival, for his part, regards the older monk as simply incapable of relating. This polarization of attitudes becomes acute on the .occasion of commun-ity meetings. The older monks tend to make speeches while the younger, consumed with frustration, try in vain to engage them in genuine dialogue and interaction. These and similar situations can be poignant as well as just plain painful. Each monk, coming from his own respective world view, is completely sincere, motivated by loyalty to what he understands to be the structure enshrining the values that are to lead him to union with Christ. Consequently, the same community event or decision of the supe~rior will be interpreted positively or negatively according to one of these two basic monastic world views. Neither seems to beable to separate the religious symbol, ritual, or behavior pattern from the value wi~ich is being expressed in and through them. To be able to do so, of course, would require't,he kind of profound conversion that is presupposed by the ontonomic World view, or the contem-plative dimension of life. This perspective is able to express monastic values in different structures or with different symbols without being tipset. It recognizes intuitively that the value is what matters, not how it is expr~essed in particular circumstances. It can move ,from one symbol or set of symbols to another, and still express its total dedication to monastic values. Because it is not bound to ex.press these values in a particular way, it does not judge others or their observance critically. It can adjust to the signs of the time, recognizing with ease when iexceptions are called for, and acknowledging the primary impor-tance of flexibility in applying the common rule to individual circumstances, The Renewal of Contemplative Orders / 677 The contemplative dimension is the goal of monastic structures and obser-vances. Those who have espoused the heteronomic or autonomic world views in their early monastic experience may move beyond their own particular world view as life advances, and come finally to embrace, or at least tolerate, the other. Ultimately, those in the heteronomic or autonomic monastic world views are both calledto transcend the limitations of their respective world views and to reach the contemplative dimension. The contemplative dimension is to live not only in God's presence, but also out of that presence. In other words, the presence and movement of God become the source of one's moti-vation both in prayer and activity. The contemplative dimension can express itself inside of existing structures or create new structures when circumstances call for them. It is not so much the structures that are important, but the motivation which prompts them. In the Gospel~ motivation is everything. The contemplative dimension can infuse life into the most stagnant of structures. The question, however, may be asked whether this is always the best use of this incomparably creative energy. Perhaps enough has been said to see a fundamental root of the problem of mutual understanding and communion in communities of contemplative life today. It is not a question of persons in the community having a liberal or a conservative temperament, di.sposition, or set of convictions. That is to be expectedin every human grouping. It.is rather a question of two deeply held perspectives regarding the essential rfionastic values, based in large part on one's early religious training and cultural conditioning. It was possible in days gone by to enjoy the blessings of unity when everyone shared the heteronomic world view. It is impossible today to avoid or suppress the ideas and attitudes that are characteristic of the autonomic world view. 1 have seen monks enter the monastery with the heteronomic world view, pass a number of years living and articulating their monastic experience in that frame of reference, and then change radically, reacting against the heteronomic'world view with all the force that is characteristic of a profound conversion. Such change is all the more acute in those who have repressed their talents and legitimate feelings for the sake of the heteronomic world view. There is really no solution to this polarization as long as it remains on the level of conceptualization. The same events, directives of superiors, or deci-sions by the community will continue to be interpreted in two opposing wa~,s. The heteronomic world view sees as disaster what the autonomic world view perceives as a great step forward. Similarly, what the autonomic world view considers regression, is interpreted by the heteronomic mind-set as a retu,rn to fundamentals, or to "the good old days." Some might think that monks and nuns who are deeply committed to these world views should live in separate monasteries, at least as an experi-ment. Actually, though, if we could recognize our own conscious or uncons-cious commitment to one of these monastic world views, and accept the fact that the other is also legitimate, we could live together with a certain mutual 67~1 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1984 enrichment--provided, of course, that our objective was not to obliterate the other, but to transcend our own world view and attain to the higher perspective of the contemplative dimension of life. The superior in monasteries today has to be someone who has great sympathy for both the heteronon~ic and the autonomic world views and can see the values and the limitations of each. Unfortunately, the monks will judge the superior's decisions according to their own respective viewpoints, and thus everything the superior tries to do will be a source of dissatisfaction to one side or the other. There needs to be a massive re-education of the members of contemplative orders if they are to understand the dynamics that areat work in their communities today and which are really .outside anyone's control. These dynamics are what Pope John XXIII called the "signs of the time." The two opposing world views are not going to go away. We have either to adjust to them, separate, or tear each other apart. The formulation of new constitutions is not going to solve this problem. In fact, the efforts to stabilize constitutions could prudently be postponed until more fundamental issues are resolved. One. of these, of course, is how to train the young. If postulants and novices in contemplative orders are oriented toward the contemplative dimension from the beginning of their monastic lives, and can be persuaded that genuine monastic values can be incarnated in more than one way, it: will then be possil~ieto emphasize the right things in their formation and avoid diverting their energies with useless regulations or conceptual conflicts. There must be serious discipline. This consists primarily in perseverance in contemplative (non-conceptual) prayer. Neither liturgy nor any other practice can supply for this. Silence and solitude initiate the dynamic of self-knowledge and the purification of the psychological unconsciousness. This shotald be fully understood by those undertaking the contemplative way of life. Contemplative prayer will enable them to adjust to this dynamic, persevere in its difficulties, and benefit from its insiglits. Two hours of such prayer every day seems like a suitable norm for postulants and novices. In communities where the work is more demanding, the divine office--and not contemplative prayer--should be reduced. For contemplatives, liturgy can only be an effec-tive means of formation in dialogue with silence and prayer in secret. Part II: Principles Monastic formation is not an assembly line. ~Monks and nuns cannot be mass-produced. The monastic environment is a choice of means designed to facilitate growth in the contemplative dimension of the Gospel. It is aimed at self-transcendence and transformation in Christ. Each monk and nun in a particular monastery is in a different place in the spiritual journey. Only great sensitivity on the part of the community toward the spiritual and human growth of its members can adequately meet this situation. Newcomers to Renewal of Contemplative Orders / 679 monastic life, of course, must submit to the same rule for the first few years of their initiation. But to apply this principle to the whole of life, even into old age, is another matter. In contemplative orders right now, the big question is not new constitutions, but .whether the observances as we practice them lead the average monk and nun of our time to that level of spirituality which Father Merton called "final integration." Without a certain number of persons living on that level in a monastery, the Rule cannot be properly observed. Institutions have an uncanny ability to be blind to whatever challenges them to constructive change.: This tendency increases in proportion to one's close-ness to the center of administration. Survival is an instinct in every human institution, as it is in individual human beings. Only those who have expe-rienced deep purification are free of this compulsion. When the inspiration of a charismatic founder or group of founders is no longer present, the second generation tries to preserve their spirit and insight by means of rules and customs. These work well so long as the spiritual understanding of the observances perdures. But if this spiritual understanding peters out, observances begin to be practiced merely externally, and may come to be experienced as a straight jacket. In a lifestyle as severely restricted as a cloistered monastery, such an environment could even become neurosis-prone. This can occur when monks or nuns start keeping~the rule for the wrong reasons, or isolate themselves from the concerns of the local and world church and community. Monastic rules, including St. Benedict's, were composed without the knowledge we possess today of the psychological and sociological factors involved in human development and in the formation of community. Monastic founders had extraordinary insight into these matters, but they did not have at their disposal the experience and research of the last century in psychology and sociology. The renewal of the contemplative orders has to take these new insights into account., 0 The renewal also has to take seriously the work of historical criticism. To separate the essentials of monastic life from its cultural conditioning in the course of the centuries and to re-express these essentials today is no small task. Still, it has to be done if monastic life is to be a viable alternative for people in the twenty-first century. Moreover, these essential values have to be expressed not only in a con-temporary way, but in ways appropriate to different cultures. As new monas-teries spring up in. various parts of the world, great sensitivity must be shown to the culture in which they are inserted. Established monasteries also: need to develop a keen sensitivity to the particular cultu.res of which they are already a part because these are ev.olving at a constantly accelerating rate. Such sensitiv-ity requires a certain level of interior freedom and a capacity to evaluate the ¯ signs of the time. To ascertain where we stand in this regard, communities might ask them-selves such questions as these: 6~11~ / Review for Religibus, Sept.-Oct., 1984 i. Do we provide space for people to grow, to make mistakes, to relax, to get a different perspective, to relate normally with their peers, to grow in responsibility, and to respond to the needs of others? 2. Can damaged persons find healing and human growth in our community? 3. If in our community there is evident lack of healing and of human and ¯ spiritual growth, is there som~ething in our way of life that makes this happen? 4. Do we develop the human and spiritual gifts of the individual members of the community, and are they then used for the good of the community? 5. Does self-support require draining a certain number of people by over-work, excessive responsibility, or by leaving them in jobs which they expe-rience as drudgery without hope of relief?. 6. ls stability in the community an absolute ora relative value? Should there be more opportunity to serve in other houses or to,experience other forms ~of Christian service for a limited time? ~. 7. What do we perceive as the goal of our contemplative way of life? is it personal salvation, penance, intercession for others, contemplative prayer, eremiticism, strict observance, togetherness, or what? 8. Are the present structures of our order the right ones for our time, culture, and circumstances? In particular, does the liturgy as we do it truly express our prayer, or is it cast in a mold that is excessively dualistic and historically conditioned? ¯ 9. Why are there so few potential superiors in the average monastery of contemplative orders? More important than any answers we might come up with, is the level of honesty and openness to truth that would permit communities to raise such intimate and personal questions in the first place. James W. Fowler3 shows how the development of Christian faith corresponds to the various stages of human growth. Basing his reflections on the work of Piaget and Kohlberg, Fowler points out that the level of faith development in a particular commun-ity is normally dependent on the communal ideal which the majority have embraced. The community tends to raise its members to this level, but does not encourage them to grow beyond it. This is not a deliberate and explicit refusal, but a subtle coercion exercised on everyone to accept the approved level of development as the norm. This dynamic is evident in certain charismatic communities which tend to discourage their members from practicing con-templative prayer even. when the attraction of grace is clear. Fowler mentions that most of the Christian churches in the United States which he investigated were at the level of faith in which religious symbols were inseparable from their accepted meaning by the community. By'religious symbols, he means rituals, practices, and behavior patterns that give the group its identity and express its value system. In these communities, it is difficult for ~ individual members to separate religious symbols from the meaning give~n them by the group as the expression of their common values~ and to ri~-express these values in other forms. The Renewal of Contemplative Orders / ~1 It is easy to see how a monastic community, which has the responsibility of fostering the interior freedom of its members, would be greatly hindered by a hidden agenda which effectively prevented them from moving beyond the letter of the Rule or the common observances. The common good of a monastery is not the exercises of common life as such, but the growth of bach of the members toward self-transcendence and transformation in Christ. The martyrdom of conscience, which Anthony of Egypt identified with the monas-tic vocation, may require some monks and nhns to express common, values in other forms--for instance, as hermits, pilgrims, teachers of contemplative prayer. Monks and nuns in the Benedictine-Cistercian tradition often have hesita-tions about the principle of personal growth because of their conviction, based on their experience, that the complete surrender of oneself to the common life is a tremendous leap forward in the spiritual journey. This view of stability maintains that changes in attitudes and dispositions, considered as ascending levels of faith, will take place interiorly in the course of one's monastic lifetime, without having to make any significant modifications in one's external obser-vance or environment. The question may be asked, however, whether this is always true. ISertain external changes could facilitate interior growth during a period of crisis. If everyone in the community is really growing, periods of crisis for one or other member will not be exceptional, but of frequent occurrence. However, for appropriate modifications of observance on behalf of the particular needs of individuals to be fully accepted and supported by.the community, the superior ¯ has to be a person in. whose discernment the community has complete confi-dence. Alternatively, there must be a level of communication that is so well established and free-flowing that persons at different stages of growth can easily understand and accept each other. Whether a large community (more than twenty) can develop or maintain such a degree of communication is a question that should be studied by contemplative orders. Most s6ciologists would have serious doubts about it. As a. further consideration, it would.seem that leadership in monastic communities today has to be an "enabling" rather than a ,determining" kind of leadership. Members of the community have to be encouraged to function on their own initiative, taking responsibility for themselves and for the group: This level.~of regponsibility obviously requires effective communication. A superior should be one of the group as much as he can. He should be intelli-gent, but not someone who inspires either awe or dependency. He should be supportive, affirming, straightforward, and open to new ideas; not someone who prefers things to people, or good order to human needs. No one should exercise religious authority who has not first come to terms with °his own solitude and isolation, for only then can he understand and relate to the solitude and isolation that others may feel. The monastic milieu is not a place where people are to be changed, but where they can change themselves. 6112 / Review for Religious; Sept.-Oct., 1984 Two principles of renewal deserve special consideration in the formation of the young' in our time. These are: flexibility in regard to observances, and emphasis on the contemplative dimension of the Gospel. How the latter is to be carried out should be the subject of study and dialogue in each monastery becahse, without a plan and practice to foster this contemplative dimension, observances will be useless. There is a fairly widespread notion in monasteries that contemplative prayer and monastic observance~are somehow incompatible. Unless this mis-conception can be dispelled by adequate education and formation, the future of these communities is extremely uncertain. , Flexibility is the most practical means of approaching individual needs at different stages of the spiritual journey. By comparison, Fowler writes, the institutional approach to the good of individual members is a buckshot approach. It presumes thatthe same religious symbols are always going to be neci~ssary for ~everyone for the whole of each one's life. Experience, on the other hand, points to the fact that most persons need to,be detached from particular religious symbols at a certain point in their spiritual journey in order to make further progress. Opportunities for human growth should be provided in cloistered monas-tic life as a necessary foundation for spiritual growth. To begin with, the contemplativ.e dimension of the Gospel cannot develop normally without a certain spontaneity. It is necessary for the members of every community to get to know one another on the human level early in their monastic lives. If there are several no.vices or temporary professed, they should have the chance to discuss monastic;values among themselves, without the novice master or dean being present. For a limited :period of time they could benefit from a "gut-level" exchange of feelings about one another and the community, moderated by a qualified facilitator. The sense of belonging is indispensable for the health of every community. This is not easy in a large group. This is probably why Benedict, with his far-sighted wisdom, recommended deaneries (a community of communities) for expanding monasteries. Sub-group structures are not divisive if their pur-pose is well understood and accepted by the community. At the very least, the opportunity to speak with one's peers in small informal groups and one-to-one should be encouraged. Friendships, both within and outside the community, can be enriching, especially'when they are supportive of one's i;piritual journey. At the same time, periods of stricter silence, as during Advent and Lent, or for a week or two every few months, might be introduced to provide the experience of a deeper and°more extended silence. Intensive periods of silence and prayer open up new areas of insight and hasten the process of purification. The rules of enclosure could also benefit from greater flexibility. Work-shops can be stimulating and broadening for those who are interested in a particular subject or craft. With the introduction of cassette TV, programs of genuine value izould help to educate and bring the community together. Uni- 7he Renewal of Contemplative Orders versit'y life tends to be a special kind of environment, somewhat withdrawn from the real world, but the genuine need of training professors, completing a monk's education, or developing particular talents, justifies this experience. Besides educational motives for modifying the strict interpretation of the rules of enclosure, permission to go home for an annual family visit instead of having the. family come to the monastery could be beneficial for the monks and nuns--as well as easier on their families. To allow selected persons to live in the community as residents for a prolonged period of time is already being done in some monasteries with good results. Interaction with dedicated per-sons in other walks of life is stimulating as well as broadening. Retreats for both sexes and varying degrees of participation in the liturgy are presently common practices in a number of contemplative communities and should be encouraged. The need for physical exercise is obvious in our day when monasteries of men and women have had to replace manual work by machinery. Factory work and the sedentary employment that is forced upon a community by secretarial demands do not provide the kind of psychological space that used to be provided by labor in the fields or in the woods. Modern forms of earning a living are less simple and usually demand more in the way of mental concen-tration. New ways of providing for the balance of activities prescribed by the Rule of Benedict have to be found or invented. It may look strange for monks to be playing sports, running around in jogging shorts, or takirig'long hikes; but. if they do not get enough good exercise to replace the manual: work of the past, they are going to find themselves in a constant state of tension. Com-munity or small group picnics, celebrations, outings, and trips can also pro-vide useful relaxation and strengthen the bonds between the members of the group. A change of pace in the horarium would be helpful from time to time, like the opportunity for a day of solitude without any structure once or twice a month. The annual retreat c