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Issue 52.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1993. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-535-3048 ° FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 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. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus ~nailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Ass#tant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ 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 NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents 806 feature Religious Life and Conversion Language Dennis J. Billy CSSR provides a language of conversion so that religious might more readily integrate their individual lives with their corporate existences. 817 828 835 842 spirituality Are We Relating to God in a New Way? Gerald M. Fagin SJ proposes five polarities which are always present in our spiritual lives. Desire, Asking, and Answers A. Paul Dominic SJ emphasizes the importance of praying from our desires by exampleg from the Bible. Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Judette A. Gallares RC explores covenantal faith through the symbol of companionship portrayed between Ruth and Naomi. The Spirituality of Surrender John P. Mossi SJ proposes three models of a spiritual surrender-ing as a means of coming home to God. 849 865 ecumenism The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious Jeffrey Gros FSC highlights the importance of ecumenical for-mation and collaboration for women and men religious. The Religious Call of Ecumenism Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS suggests ways in which the needs of the ecumenical movement can well be met by the resources of religious communities. 802 Reviezv for Religious 870 875 ministry Frustrations--Jesus' Ministry and Ours James Martin SJ seeks a fresh perspective on dealing with frustra-tions arising from ministry to the poor. Jesuit Spirituality and Catholic Higher Education Claude N. Pavur SJ stresses the importance of an Ignatian spiritu-ality, invigorating the efforts of educators in the Jesuit tradition. poverty 886 Option for the Poor: God's Pedagogy Marcello Azevedo SJ analyzes the meaning and life-applications of the phrase "option for the poor" in terms of our faith. 893 Who Evangelizes Whom? The Poor Evangelizers John F. Talbot SJ explores the evangelizing potential of the poor. 898 a life of promise Two Cheers for Celibacy William McDonough clarifies the meaning of prie, stly celibacy by combining Robert Bellah's use of institution and Thomas Aquinas's moral vision. 911 Charismatic Renewal and Consecrated Life 920 Susan Rakoczy IHM reflects from a r~ligious-life experience of twenty-five years on the blessings of the charismatic renewal in regard to consecrated life. Death as a Community Event Annette Frey SC shares the stqry of a friend's illness and death as an integrating factor in community life. departments 804 Prisms 927 Canonical Counsel: Lumen Gentium's Chapter 6: Religious 933 Book Reviews 951 Indexes to Volume 52 November-December 1993 803 prisms ~oho are the people by whom you have been most influenced? Many of us must at one time or another have tried to answer this question for ourselves or at the inquiry of others: Precisely which people have strongly influenced my life? Some may quickly name their fathers and mothers; others go on to name favorite teachers or special friends. Still others may name people in world affairs or in the worlds of sports, the arts, or medicine. Probably not very many of us spontaneously turn to the men and women whom the church has declared holy and named as outstanding members of the communion of saints. Yet the reason why the church calls our attention to these people is to allow us to see in other followers of Christ what we hope to become. Just as the church of the Eastern rites emphasizes icons that give us a glimpse of the world of the holy, so the Latin-rite church proposes the study of the lives of ~aints so that we may be inspired by them and formed and then moved along a path of holiness as Jesus' apostles. Perhaps at one time many of us did not appreciate how the more medieval theology of mediators needed updating like so many timebound ways of expressing our faith and its practices--the process mandated by Vatican II. Now it seems that we stand more ready for and in need of the kind of influence which our fellow Christians, can-onized and otherwise esteemed, can exercise in ore: lives. No longer do we, almost superstitiously, look to Mary or other chosen saints for special favors. Instead we take our direction from the Vatican II understanding and descrip-tion of Mary's place in the communion of saints under the 804 Review for Religious specially privileged titles of mother and first disciple. And so we look to our favorite men and women saints particularly in their relationship to us as brothers and sisters and as our fellow disci-ples. If Christians in general are exhibiting a greater need for this kind of influence in their devotional lives, even more might men and women religious look to the holy ones special to their con-gregations for living the kind of discipleship charismatically appro-priate to their following of Christ. ~;Vhether it be the contemporary retelling of saints' lives or recapturing their spirit in new artistic portrayals or recovering prayers of theirs that are appropriate to our times--there still are ways for holy men and women to touch us in our daily living. We may more readily find light coming to us in dark moments of our experience from the uncovered lamp of these human lives than from any theoretical studies or documents. We may also find ourselves more energized for entering into the evangelizing mission of Jesus through the radiance of their inspiration and example. Probably even more surprising than our slowness in naming saints as major influences in our lives is the not infrequent omis-sion of even the name Jesus. As we enter into the Advent and Christmas seasons, maybe more fully than Jesus being "the reason for the season," we might say that the reason for the season is for us to remind ourselves that Jesus is the unique influence upon our lives all year long. Jesus is the one who has influenced how we live, how we pray, how we interact, how we die. Jesus is the one who calls us to a way of following; Jesus is the Teacher, and we all remain the lifelong learners, the ones in continuing formation. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves another question. Is it true that for us not to name Jesus as the great influence of our lives is more than just a memory slip? Does our answer uncover for us that our everyday, busy lives are being spent on behalf of lesser gods than the God Incarnate? The question is worth more than a Christmastime reflection. That the peace and grace of God, Emmanuel, be richly yours is the wish of all the staff of Review for Religious. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1993 805 DENNIS J. BILLY Religious Life and Conversion Language The crisis faced by many of today's religious goes beyond the breakdown of their founding myths and the resulting lack of purpose in their corporate existences. While many (I daresay most) are at least peripherally aware of having lost in recent years something of great importance for their lives as professed religious, they usually have no idea whatsoever of how to retrieve it or what to put in its place. Nor are they very articulate about just what it is they have lost and why precisely they want it back. Confronted by their own aging, a steady flow of ygunger members from their ranks, and fewer and fewer vocational prospects, many have become disillusioned and desire some sort of immediate respite from their mount-ing misfortunes. They pursue it in any number of ways. Some display a nostalgic desire for the not too distant past--"the good old days," as.they are called, which were probably never quite so good as they now seem. Others resign themselves passively to their "inevitable corporate extinction," an increasingly attractive choice for many. Still others sink deeper and deeper into the quagmire of confusion and doubt about the relevance of religious life in the postmodern world--which does nothing but com-pound an already complex and. difficult situation. Regardless of the motivations behind them or their point Dennis J. Billy CSSR is author of the recently published Evangelical Kernels: A Theological Spirituality of Religious Life (Mba House, 1993). His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome; Italy. 806 Review for Religious of origin, none of these responses are adequate to the crisis at hand. In order to move forward, today's religious must choose a path other than that of denial and escape. At this critical point of their history, what they need is a language of conversion that will enable them to give an honest account of themselves, will help them to integrate their private lives with their corporate existences, and will show them how they, as a group, can con-front the cynical doubts that writhe beneath the surface of their professional respectability. Conversion Language A language of conversion must speak to both the mind and the heart. It must make sense to.people in a way that will satisfy their intellectual longings. It must also motivate them to exanaine their situation in life with renewed strength and vigor--as if with dif-ferent eyes. More importantly, it must reshape their interpretation of experience so that, through the action of divine grace, they see their denial for what it is and then find it possible to realign their personal powers of commitment with those of the religious insti-tute to which they belong. Only from such a realignment will dusty and creaky institu-tional structures and the people who stubbornly inhabit and main-tain them have any hope of being refurbished for a brighter future. Failure to achieve this renewal of human heart and human social structure will result only in more of the same problem: individ-ualism amid corrosive social ills; continuing loss of confidence in and commitment to one's religious community; the persistence of the "double life" syndrome that has plagued so many first-world congregations since the Second Vatican Council. By most assessments, the very future of religiou~ life is at stake. The thesis is clear: the circular relationship between individ-ual and corporate change must come to the fore in any further dis-cussions about authentic conversion, particularly with respect to those who have dedicated their lives to following the evangelical counsels. "The whole cannot be understood without its parts; nor the parts without the whole." This fundamental problem of inter-pretation-- the so-called hermeneutical problem--lies at the root of the present crisis in religious life. To deal with it effectively, a language of conversion must address both the individual and the November-December 1993 807 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language group, as well as their ongoing mutual relationship. It can do so, however, only if it encompasses (1) a sound Christian anthropol-ogy that stresses the dignity of human persons on every level of their existence, (2) a persuasive philosophical link between the personal and the corporate wholes, and (3) a recognition of its own inherent limitations with a corresponding openness to the re-creative presence of God. Without these important ingredi-ents of change, no language of conversion, regardless of how elo-quent or comprehensive it may appear, will be adequate to the enormous task at hand. A Sound Christian Anthropology The connotations of the phrase "a sound Christian anthro-pology" need some explaining. An "anthropology" may be described as a specific and coordinated assessment of human exis-tence. It is "Christian" insofar as it receives its inspiration from the insights of Christian traditions. To the extent that there are numerous interpretations of the meaning of Christianity, there are also varying Christian anthropologies. In this essay, a "sound" Christian anthropology is understood as one which integrates four fundamental dimensions of human existence: the physical, the rational (or mental), the spiritual, and the social. All of these are found ih the teaching of St. Paul and are made explicit in the juxtaposition of his doctrine of the Body of Christ (1 Cor 12:12- 31) and the tripartite understanding of the person found in such verses as this: "May the God of peace make you perfect in holi-ness. May he preserve you whole and entire, spirit (pneuma), soul (psyche), and body (soma), irreproachable at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Th 5:23). Together these verses express the Pauline understanding of the complexity of human existence and qualify as a solid basis for further theological reflection. Of what do these basic dimensions consist? People's spirit (pneuma) is the deepest part of their being. It yearns for God with unutterabl.e groanings (Rm 8:23) and has the potential to be lifted up into intimate communion with the very Spirit of God. Ever elusive and difficult to describe, it is that aspect of human exis-tence which affirms each human person as capax Dei, that is, capa-ble of God. People's soul (psyche), by contrast, is their animating principle of life. It encompasses, not only the rational, but also the emotive, nutritive, and reproductive sides of human existence. 808 Review for Religious Rational activity, the soul's highest and noblest function, enables people to wonder about the meaning of life and to think criti-cally about its problems. People's bodies (somata) are the material extension of their existence. Unlike the Pauline term for "flesh" (sarx), which has close associations with a life of sin leading to death, soma can be used for good or for ill and is hence a morally neutral concept. Finally, people's social dimension is a constituent part of their anthropological makeup. A human per-son. arises out of and exists in a social context and cannot be understood apart from it. For Christians, the primary social arena in which they live out their lives is that of the Body of Christ as it exists in its various expressions such as the family, the parish, the diocese, and the church universal. The interrelated nature of these various dimensions of human existence cannot be stressed highly enough. Spirit does not exist apart from a person's body, soul, and social relationships-- nor vice versa. Not one of them can be separated and treated in isolation from the others, as if a person were an arti-ficial composite of four disparate parts. A continuous and unbroken anthropo- For Christians, the primary social arena in which they live out their lives is that of the Body of Christ as it exists in its various expressions such as the family, the parish, the diocese, and the church universal. logical relationship exists among all of them. So strong are these bonds that not even death can sever them completely and pre-vent their ongoing functioning. To do so would mean the ulti-mate dissolution of the human person and the corresponding passage from being to nonbeing which the Christian faith so strongly rejects as a possibility of human destiny. That is not to say that a certain priority of relationships does not exist among these various anthropological factors: spirit relates to soul as soul to body. Balanced and healthy relationships among these affect the way in which a person interacts with others. A sound social environment, in turn, produces profound healing effects on a per-son's bodily, spiritual, and mental well-being. This circular rela-tionship is important for understanding the present crisis of religious life, which now can be understood as involving not only November-Deconber 1993 809 Billy ¯ Reli~ous Life and Conversion Language the vast array of dysfunctional social structures, but also a deeper relational imbalance operative on the most basic levels of human existence. Linking the Personal and the Corporate Social structures are both products of the mind and a means through which human intelligence and human spirit are shaped. ' When functioning according to justice, they give all people their due and educate them in virtue. At other times they work to the benefit of a privileged elite at the expense of an oppressed under-class. The interests of justice are not adequately served when existing social structures help to perpetuate a mentality of control that legitimizes the unjust treatment of other human beings. Such structures are sinful and need to be changed. When they are not (as can be the case in religious life), it may very well be simply because those involved feel overwhelmed by the immensity of the task before them. Such feelings can easily lead people to a sense of helplessness or even indifference about their ability to influence their surrounding social structures. An implicit dualism then arises in the private and social spheres of religious life: individuals grad-ually lose ownership of their ruling structures; the latter go on unchallenged more out of a paralyzing lack of interest than any-one's stubborn resistance to change. One way to overcome this implicit dualism is to introduce the related concepts of microcosm and macrocosm into the cur-rent vocabulary of religious life. Rooted in the primitive Greek idea of the human person as a small-scale model of the cosmos, this distinction was eventually adapted by Plato as a way of describing the relationship of individuals to the society (see Republic, 441c). According to this adjusted version, the underlying structure of human society is nearly the same as that of the human soul. The rational element corresponds to the republic's govern-ing class; the irascible (or spirited), to its martial orders; the con-cupiscible, to its productive masses. As "the human soul writ large," society offers individuals not only a particular place in the " social hierarchy, but also the opportunity of seeing themselves projected onto the collective whole. Individuals find their reflec-tion in the whole; the whole, in the individual. Plato's application of the microcosm/macrocosm distinction is not relevant in all its details to religious life in its contemporary 810 Review for Religious ¯ Western setting. His assertion, however, of an underlying struc-tural continuity between individuals and the society to which they belong has much to its credit: (1) it preserves the circular rela-tionship between individual and social functions; (2) it allows for certain structural similarities between human beings and their primary social environment; and (3) it maintains the distinctive-ness of individuals in the face of the larger community. When combined with the Christian anthropology outlined in the pre-vious section (as opposed to the Platonic one with which it is nor-mally associated), this seminal idea can help individuals in today's religious communities to regain their sense of identity with the larger whole. The analogy would go something like this: both the human person and the religious community possess spiritual, mental, physical, and social dimensions. The relationships among the various dimensions within the human person are proportion-ate to those in the religious community (for example, human spirit / human soul = community spirit / community soul, and so forth). Cross references also remain proportionate, but only with regard to corresponding terms (that is, human spirit /communal spirit = human soul / community soul, and so forth). In all cases the rule of proper proportionality applies (a/b = a'/b'). The strength of this approach is that it maintains a fundamental continuity between the underlying anthropological structure of individuals and that of their religious community. And it is able to do so even when taking into account the limitations of the language it uses to describe the quiet, abiding presence of God in the life of the . community. The Silent Presence of Grace One of the underlying dangers in the current discussion about the future of religious life is the tendency to substitute lengthy theories for the simplicity of God's intervening grace. Uneasiness about their present situation in life has led many religious into a quest for the perfect plan that will explain in fine detail (1) why they find themselves in their present situation, (2) how they can get themselves out of it, and (3) where they should be going. Search as they may, they will inevitably end up frustrated. No magic elixir of man-made theories can satisfy expectations of such exalted heights. To achieve its ends, a theory of refounding or revitalization must place God, not itself, atthe center of attention. November-Deconber 1993 811 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language To do so, it must first recognize that conversion on any level--the personal, the communal, the societal--comes directly from God's own initiative. And since God is not limited to the narrow confines of human theorizing, the theory in question can propose nothing but one of many possibilities of how God's transforming action may occur. By placing itself on the periphery (not at the center) of divine action, such a theory acknowledges its inherent limita-tions and places itself more readily at the disposal of God's re-creative activity. "The wind blows where it wills" (Jn 3:8). The movement of God's grace is capable of transforming both individuals and the social structures they inhabit. What God does or how is not always discernible to the human eye. What is important in any of life's sit-uations-- and, in this case, in the present crisis facing many reli-gious communities--is that people (both as individuals and as a group) expand their awareness of God working quietly in the cir-cumstances of their daily lives. Where is God in the present cri-sis facing religious life? What is God saying in the graying of once thriving religious communities, in their steady loss of younger members, in their failure to attract vocations, and in their overall decline in numbers? Why does God permit the cur-rent lack of identity and firmness of purpose which characterizes so many of today's religious communities? Where is God lead-ing them--if at all? And to serve what purpose? When sincerely reflected upon, such questions lead people either to affirm or deny God's active involvement in their own life and in the life of " their religious community. The answer, however, may not end up in the shape of a simple yes or no. In a matter of faith, a believer's response must involve more than a facile determination of whether God is with this particular community or has abandoned it. Such a reply may evade the issue altogether. An authentic outpouring of God's grace will foster a deep sense of listening in the life of a religious community. Most peo-ple, religious included, are more ready to give their own opinion than to hear that of another. They are usually so heavily interested in what they themselves have to say that they talk past those around them or, at best, tolerate what is said until the next oppor-tunity arises for them to speak. What passes for conversation is often nothing more than a continuous chain of vaguely connected monologues. Such is not the case with God, the preeminent lis-tener, nor should it be the case of those stirr.ed by the free gift of 812 Review for Religious grace. Those who listen carefully--to their own hearts, to those around them, to the needs of the community, and to those outside the community--are able to discern more clearly the voice of God in their own lives. When they nurture this quiet witness of faith, religious create a space in their community where others know that their presence will be gratefully recognized and their stories listened to with interest. To empty oneself so that others may be heard is an important quality in authentic Christian living. The language of conversion cannot be spoken, let alone heard, apart from the re-creative silence of God's transforming grace. R.eligious and the Language of Conversion The rudiments of an authentic language of conversion are now in place: a sound Christian anthropology, a way of bringing together individuals and corporate wholes, and a recognition of God's creative initiative in the process of conversion. The inte-gration of these elements and their use as an active, functioning language will enable religious to find greater insight into their present difficulties and will lead them to a deeper awareness of the proper course of action to be taken. To further advance this claim, a number of observations are in order: 1. A language of conversion such as the one suggested above will challenge religious to remove the "problem solving" glasses that regularly color their current outlook. Rather than poring over "what must we change in order to secure our institutional viability," they will focus on questions about the authenticity of their reli-gious lives. A religious community, in other words, turns its life more completely over to God, not out of any ulterior motives (for example, to get more vocations, to stem the exodus of disenchanted members), but simply because that is what God asks of them. 2. Religious need to examine, in their common spiritual out-look, the relationship they maintain between "being" and "action." Informed by an anthropology that draws strong bonds between the bodily, mental, spiritual, and social dimensions of human exis-tence, they will be more apt to be sensitive to how their actions-- both private and corporate--are expressions of who they are and sensitive as well to how their actions affect their being as human persons. 3. Religious must articulate in their daily lives a deeper appre-ciation of the basic human elements of community living. November-December 1993 813 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language Membership in a religious congregation involves more than mere physical presence. It also entails a shared commitment to common goals and values, a general sense of how these ends are to be achieved, the fostering of community spirit, and a network of sound spiritual and social ties. Since these elements are them-selves all intimately related, care must be taken that members manage to relate well on all of them. Structures must be set in place to facilitate this process. 4. Particular emphasis should be given to the community's spiritual well-being. Just as the spirit is the deepest part of the human person--that part which yearns for God and which affirms oneself as capax Dei--so too is it the truest, most authentic part of the religious community. When the spirit of a religious commu-nity suffers, the other dimensions cannot help being affected. Efforts must be made to heal the wounded spirit of religious com-munity life. Among other things, this will mean working through such difficult issues as human intimacy, vocational crises, mourn-ing the loss of members, and dealing constructively with members who display dysfunctional and addictive behaviors. Only through healing of the spirit of religious community life is there any hope of recovery. 5. One way of healing a community's wounded spirit is for its members to reserve time and community space for genuine listening. By being attentive to the words of others--the stories they tell, the experiences they wish to share--people enter into the thick of life and allow for the possibility of God's presence to break into ordinary daily events. When a religious community fosters this attitude of respect for the need of people to share themselves openly without feeling threatened, it begins to go beneath the superficial ways of relating by which its members all too often relate hardly at all. One of the great sins of religious life is that people can live together for years and barely know each other. 6. It is also sad that a person can live the religious life for yea~rs without ever developing a close relationship with God. Addressing this problem, the language of conversion places God at the center of attention. The whole purpose of life, and of reli-gious life especially, is for a person to enter into a deep and last-ing friendship with God. This purpose must not be lost sight of in discussions about the future of religious life. Religious vow to live the evangelical counsels in order to walk more closely along 814 Revie~ for Religious the way of the Lord Jesus. They do so, if for no other reason, in order to enter more closely into union with him and the One who sent him. 7. People cannot know God, however, if their spirit (or the spirit of the community, for that matter) does not commune with the Spirit of God in the quiet groves of contemplation. Many religious, unfortunately, have forgotten all about what it means to seek the Lord in prayer. Having lost the incentive to pray, they merely go through the motions of living out their evangelical commitments; their lives, as a result, can easily become devoid of all meaning. Religious need to see through the self-deceptions that have gradually led them to compromise their vows. To retrieve the meaning of their religious life, they must return to a balanced regimen of prayer whereby they can gather in God's name and continually invoke the divine presence. 8. Finally, no one undergoes conversion outside a specific community environment. Religious must develop a keen sense of boundary definition that will enable them to distribute their time appropriately between their own religious community and the people they serve in the apostolate. While benefiting from the authentic sharing that goes on within their communities (an essential priority of a well functioning community), they must take care not to become inordinately introspective and so lose all desire to reach beyond their immediate circle. The apostolic orientation of all religious communities (even those with a strictly contem-plative lifestyle) must always remain a primary concern. With this orientation religious supported and energized by their communi-ties will be able--both individually and together--to do great work for both the church and for society at large. Just as the spirit is the deepest part of the human person-- that part which yearns for God and which affirms oneself as capax Dei--so too is it the truest, most authentic part of the religious community. Conclusion The present crisis in religious life is largely a lack of balance between the individual and the community. In many respects the November-December 1993 815 Billy ¯ ReIigious Life and Conversion Language crisis is a scaled-down version of the age-old philosophical prob-lem of the one and the many, an issue which has always lurked behind the scenes of Western philosophical thought and which remains, even today, largely unresolved. In recent years the pen-dulum has swung from one extreme to the other, with the indi-vidual being either submerged in the collective (as was often the case before Vatican II) or much removed from it (as has often occurred since the council). While nearly everyone agrees that a healthy balance needs to be struck, there is little consensus con-cerning just what must be done to achieve it. These pages have used certain categories from the Western religious and philosophical traditions in an effort to nudge reli-gious communities gently toward a prudent--even though pre-carious- balance. The categories include (1) a Pauline anthropology that emphasizes the four basic dimensions of human existence (spiritual, mental, bodily, and social), (2) a philosophi-cal link between individual and corporate wholes (the micro-cosm/ macrocosm distinction of the ancient Greek philosophers), and (3) a deepened awareness of the inherent limitations of lan-guage (and by extension all theories) with a corresponding focus on the creative initiative of divine grace. While none of these cat-egories are entirely disregarded in current discourse about reli-gious life, rarely have they been used in conjunction with one another and certainly not in what has been termed "a language of conversion." By assimilating these categories of conversion, religious can begin to change some of their dysfunctional ways of relating and nurse some of the open wounds that their communities now endure. First of all, they must get beyond claiming that the call to conversion extends only to individuals and not to the social struc-tures they inhabit. An awareness of the circular relationship between the human heart and the human social structure is ~un-damental to any serious discussion of religious life's future. Without it the dissatisfaction of many of today's religious with their institutional structures will continue to grow. 816 Review for Religious GERALD M. FAGIN Are We Relating to God in a New Way? When I entered a Jesuit novitiate thirty-five years ago, I was introduced to a way of relating to God deeply rooted in the tradition of the church and in the Society of Jesus. It was a way of experiencing God and of responding to God that was shaped by a clearly defined theological understanding of God, the church, and the human per-son. What characterized that spirituality was what char-acterized the spirituality of most Catholics, both lay and religious, in the years before Vatican Council II. What has emerged in the last twenty-five years is a new way of relating to God, a spirituality rooted in a plurality of the-ological understandings of God, the church, and the human person. We might describe it as a shift in model or simply as a shift from one pole of the necessary tension in our spiritual lives to the other. What is important is that we describe and understand what has happened, for too often a lack of understanding has led to confusion, guilt, and quarreling among Christians. I offer five tensions or polarities that are always pres-ent in our spiritual lives. What has happened in lived Christian spirituality can be described in terms of these tensions. spirituality From Objective to Subject-Centered The spirituality of thirty-five years ago was an objec- Gerald M. Fagin sJ, professor of theology, can be addressed at Loyola University; 6363 St. Charles Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. Noven~ber-Decen~ber 1993 817 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? tive spirituality measured in terms of laws kept, mortifications and virtues and devotions practiced, prayers said, and Masses attended. A typical day in a novitiate was structured around an early morning Latin Mass, an hour of meditation, the rosary, the stations of the cross, examination of conscience, spiritual read-ing, and an instruction on religious life. The spiritual life of the Catholic laity was measured and identified by similar norms and practices. This way of life was supported by a clearly defined Catholic culture that gave Catholics a sense of identity rooted in unambiguous doctrinal and moral teaching and distinct rituals and practices. It was the world of the Baltimore catechism, Friday abstinence, fasting in Lent, First Friday and First Saturday devo-tions, benediction, indulgences, and St. Jude devotions. It demanded discipline and obedience and self-sacrifice, but it offered clear expectations and a structured and measurable way of living out a committed Christian life that led to sanctity. Such objectivity is an essential element in any relationship .to God. Rituals, practices, and devotions are at the heart of a gen-uine experience of God and a faithful response to God. We need clear guidelines and traditional structures if we are to be account-able and if we are to guard against the kind of subjectivity that is open to deception and divisiveness. What has emerged, then, is not a total rejection of this way of relating to God, but a new emphasis on the human person as a free and developing subject in the spiritual life. This subject-centered spirituality is a spirituality measured in terms of people's inner growth and actualization, the quality of their prayer and personal affective development. The spiritual life is described in terms'of a growth in trust and love and openness and freedom and sensi-tivity to the Spirit. Religious experience rather than religious practice is central to this approach. The focus is growth in peo-ple's personal relationship with God and on God's call addressed ¯ uniquely to individuals in their specific life circumstances. In con-sidering fidelity to God, the language of conformity and obedience to rules gives way to discernment and dialogue. Prayer becomes less a meditation on the truths of Christianity and more a lan-guage of the heart, an affective prayer that centers on God's ini-tiative more than our initiative. The role of the spiritual director puts less emphasis on teaching and guidance and more emphasis on facilitating the directee's relationship with God. The didactic gifts of the director become less important than a listening and 818 Review for Religious discerning heart that can clarify the movement of God in the directee's heart. Thirty-five years ago my spiritual director asked me about my fidelity to my spiritual exercises, the subject matter of my meditation, and the resolutions from my latest retreat. Today my spiritual director asks me about the movement of God in my heart and the consolation and desolation that are the signposts of my discernment. The presupposition is that God is at work in the individual soul and that this movement of God can be observed and discerned. The shift to a subject-centered spirituality is clearly seen in the rediscovery of the directed retreat. Conference-style or preached retreats focus on a common teaching or subject matter for reflec-tion. Everyone responds to and prays over the same material, often more doctrinal than scriptural, and not selected as a specific response to the needs and grace directions of the individuals. The subject matter of the directed retreat is each individual's experience of God, the movement of the Spirit within that person. Scripture is chosen to focus and highlight the graces of the retreatant. There is not one set program for everyone. It is pre-sumed that each person will experience and respond to God's grace in an individual way. Underlying this shift to the subject is a different under-standing of revelation. Revelation is imaged not primarily as propositions to be affirmed but as God's self-communication. Revelation is not first a series of statements about God and the human condition, but a series of experiences of God that reveal who God is and how God deals with us. Jesus is the fullness of God's revelation so that our faith life is a response to someone rather than an assent to propositions. God's self-revelation in Christ calls us to a new relationship with.God. Experience, both individual and communal, precedes articulation; and our rela- This subject-centered spirituality is a spirituality measured in terms of people's inner growth and actualization, the quality of their prayer and personal affective development. November-December 1993 819 Fagqn ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? tionship with God begins in an experience of God that then finds words in doctrines and expression in rituals. From Perfection to Process The novice of thirty-five years ago set out on the road to per-fection. Every imperfection was to be weeded out, every virtue practiced. The ideals were clear, even if unattainable. The goal was set: "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." The perfec-tion model envisioned our spiritual lives as a striving for an ideal, a state of perfection that was never attained. Too often our spir-itual lives were evaluated in terms of our failures to reach the ideal or the degree to which we had failed to attain perfection. As in the objective model, the focus was on an observance of laws and duties. Novices were told, "Keep the rule and the rule will keep you." This approach tended to be legalistic and Pelagian and to generate undue fear in our relationship with God. We were always aware that we were not measuring up to the ideal. No matter how fervent our spiritual lives and how detailed our obser-vance, we remained unworthy servants who had yet to reach per-fection. We placed much more emphasis on what we had failed to do or achieve than on the level of our desire and hope and love and our moments of fidelity. This perfection model focused on the goal, not the process to the goal. God's love and affirmation were often thought of as the reward for our completing the process, for our faithful observance. A corollary of the shift from objective to subject-centered is the shift from this perfection model to a process model in our relationship with God. The process model envisions our spiri-tual lives as a journey that can be measured not only in terms of how far we have to go, but especially in terms of how far we have come. Besides sorrow for our failure to attain perfection, there is gratitude for all that God has accomplished in us, the work of God's grace in our lives. Our spiritual lives are viewed as a rela-tionship with God that grows, not as a project that needs to be accomplished. Such a model is sensitive to the adult stages of growth in the human process. Conversion is emphasized as an ongoing process of discovering and purification and commitment. Creative fidelity in the midst of new challenges and opportunities replaces perseverance in a static commitment. The love of God is experienced in the midst of the process as an abiding source of 820 Review for Religious support and inspiration. God loves us where we are and invites us to a fuller life. We find God, then, where we are and not where we would like to be. We pray out of our present experience, not out of as-yet-unrealized goals. At the root of this shift from perfection to process is a renewed understanding of grace. Grace is defined not primarily in ontological terms and categories, certainly not as a quantity to be gained and lost by observance or lack of observance. Rather it is understood as a growth in a relationship of love with some-one, a growth into a richer and fuller life. Our relationship with God is an invitation to friendship and intimacy with God, a gift of new life. God's grace is the giving of Godself that transforms us and empowers us to live God's life. From Private to Communal The novitiate of thirty-five years ago was highly structured and programmed. With rare exceptions, everyone followed the same order of the day, listened to the same conferences and instructions, and even read many of the same books. The reality of large numbers of novices made personal attention less available, even though the novice master was concerned for the well-being of each novice. At the same time, the spirituality proposed was very individualistic. People's relation with God was private and expressed in personal devotions and practices. They found God in the solitude of their'own heart and gave little emphasis to a com-munity of shared faith and communal discernment. There was a strong sense of corporate identity, but one's own spiritual life was private and to be shared only with a spiritual director or supe-rior. The support came from the awareness that everyone was praying at the same time in private, not from any ~hared sense of what was happening in the prayer of individuals. This personal piety that privatized one's relationship with God followed upon an understanding of the church as an insti-tution from which grace flows from the top through a hierarchi-cal structure to the individual. God spoke through superiors and religious leaders, not through the members of the community. Sacraments too were privatized. They were channels of individ-ual grace and a personal relationship with God. Confession was an experience of forgiveness of my sins with little sense of reconcil-iation with the community. Eucharist focused on the offering of November-December 1993 821 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? Christ's sacrifice and my reception of Communion, followed by my private thanksgiving with .Jesus. Often Eucharist was a pri-vate Mass with a single server symbolizing a broader community that was not evidently there. All of this, of course, reflected a the-ology of church and sacrament that shaped and reinforced a sense of a private relationship with God. A communal model, on the other hand, emphasizes that we encounter God in community. It respects the personal and unique aspect of one's relationship with God and the areas of religious experience that are shared only with a spiritual guide or a close friend, but it images our relationship with God in the context of a community of faith. The Spirit speaks through all, and we grow in our faith life with, in, and through others. We are one body. We are branches on the same vine. Shared prayer and communal dis-cernment are important means of developing our relationship with God. This derives from an understanding of church as pri-marily a community of believers called together in faith. The church is an institution with visible structures and offices, but it is first the gathering of disciples that find and celebrate God's presence in their midst. Liturgy is experienced as ecclesial, as the coming together of God's people to hear the word in common and share the meal of the Reign of God. Jesus is present, not only in the consecrated bread and wine, but also in the assembly. We find Jesus in the community. Sacraments, then, are experienced as communal moments Of celebration that bind us together and deepen our corporate identity as the people of God. Christians share a common story of salvation and live out that story as mem-bers of the one body of Christ. That sense of a common story deepens our awareness of God's self-revelation to us in commu-nity and our need to listen and respond as God's people bound together by a covenant relationship. From Dualism to Wholeness From its earliest days Christianity has struggled with a dual-ism that put a wedge between the spiritual and the physical, the body and the soul. Gnosticism, Manicheanism, and Jansenism are only historical surfacings of a constant and strong undercurrent of thought that considers the physical to be evil and the source of temptation. Not surprisingly, the novitiate of thirty-five years ago put little emphasis on emotional growth and psychosexual devel- 822 Review for Religious opment. The prominent role of physical penances and the pro-hibition about novices touching one another dramatized not only a needed asceticism, but also a distrust of anything relating to the human body. Holiness was often identified with a flight from the body and from the emotions. The body was seen as a hin-drance to the spirit, and the emotions were dismissed or sup-pressed as irrelevant and debilitating. Reason and volition were the only reliable means of directing our spiritual lives. Discernment was reduced to a rational process or replaced by. logical analysis. Faith was seen primarily as an act of the intellect and holiness as an act of the will. In the end, the spiritual life was often per-ceived as set apart in a higher realm divorced from the growth of the whole person. Contemporary spirituality is more clearly holistic. It respects and encourages the growth of the whole person. The process of human-ization is an integral part of spiritual develop-ment. Spiritual maturity presupposes a certain psychological health as a foundation. The role of affectivity and an appreciation of our phys-icality become important elements of our growth to spiritual wholeness. Discernment is appreciated as noticing and evaluating the affective as well as the rational movements of God within the soul, sifting through experiences of consolation and desolation. Faith is the response of the whole person to God's self-revela-tion. A renewed value is given to human desire as a place where God touches and inspires the soul and calls a person to fuller life. Contemporary spiritua~ty knows well that something of this holis-tic approach can be found in a fresh reading of many of the mys-tics and spiritual classics, but modern awareness and appreciation of the complexities of the human person have insisted even more that holiness is a developmental process of integrating all aspects of the human person. The shift from dualism to wholeness is rooted in an under-standing of the human person as a unity rather than a duality of spirit and body. Psychology and religion can work together to transform and sanctify every dimension of the person. The Enneagram, Jungian personality types, dream analysis, Intensive Journaling--all these and more can enrich our appreciation and Christians share a common story of salvation and live out that story as members of the one body of Christ. November-December 1993 823 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? understanding of the human psyche and be positive helps to our spiritual growth. There is, of course, an element of truth in the dualistic approach. Physical and even psychological wholeness are not indispensable to Christian holiness. God can and does work through our brokenness. The ideal of self-actualization and human growth must always be relativized by the gospel call to self-emp-tying surrender. On the other hand, the dualistic approach, when taken to an extreme, can produce an impoverished human per-son insensitive to the riches of imagination and affect in relating to God and other people. In such a case, little or no value is given to the affective movements of the heart in the search for God. The ordering of affectivity is reduced to the suppression of affec-tivity, and an ascetic ideal is proposed that allows little room for human emotion. From Other-Worldly to This-Worldly "Just a little while and then eternity." These words attributed to St. John Berchmans set the tone for my novitiate experience thirty-five years ago. At the heart of the relationship with God was a call to renunciation of the material world. The world was a place of temptation and trial. We were pilgrims on a journey to salvation in the next life. Sanctity demanded detachment from the world. Matter was evil, the source of sin. Penance was a way to punish the flesh and control its appetites. The novitiate was in an isolated place far from the allurements of the world. There were no newspapers or magazines or movies or TV. The harshest judgment passed on any novice was that he was "worldly." At the root of this approach was a negative vision of the world as cor-rupted by sin. Flight from the world was the road to sanctity. Even apostolic religious orders tended to propose monastic ide-als that emphasized separation from the world. A special impor-tance was given to the words of Seneca (Letters, no. 7) quoted in the Imitation of Christ (I, 20): "As often as I have been among men, I have returned less a man." No one can deny the truth in this approach to the world. Growth in a relationship with God demands a radical detachment and renunciation. We live in a world of obscured values and dis-torted perceptions, a world infected with sin that stands in oppo-sition to the values of the reign of God. The world is groaning for 824 Review for Religious redemption, and Christianity must stand as a countercultural force in a broken and wounded world. Contemporary spirituality, however, takes a more positive view of the world, seeing it as the product of God's love and the locus of God's redemptive presence. The Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes (The Church in the Modern World) proposed a world-affirming vision that recognized the value and autonomy of human society and culture and that took responsibility for the world. A renewed theology of creation takes seriously Genesis's declaration of the goodness of creation and the dignity of humans as images of God. Such a creation-centered spirituality rejoices in the world as a gift.from the hands of a loving God. Our relationship with God is expressed in a concern for the earth and a sense of stew-ardship for the resources entrusted to us. The reign of God is already a reality "bud-ding forth," and our human efforts are an essential element in building the final reign of God. God, then, is found in human experience and human achievement, and this world becomes a sacred place for encountering God. A genuine apostolic spirituality recognizes that we work out our salvation by involvement in the human struggle for justice. The desert invades the marketplace and the monk speaks a prophetic word in the city. The reason for the shift to a this-worldly spiritua'lity is, then, a more positive view of the world and a renewed understanding of salvation. An important corollary of this new understanding and appre-ciation of the world is a reevaluation of the relation between reli-gious life and the lay vocation. In the other-worldly view of the Christian life, monastic spirituality was considered normative, and so the life of a single or a married person in the world was necessarily a less radical commitment to a relationship with God. Lay spirituality was at best a watered-down adaptation of the higher calling of religious life. Vatican II, by contrast, speaks of a universal call to holiness. All Christians are called to the per-fection of charity and commitment to Christ. Religious life and the A genuine apostolic spirituality recognizes that we work out our salvation by involvement in the human struggle for justice. November-December 1993 825 Fagin ¯ Are V~e Relating to God in a New tVay? lay vocation are two different ways of responding to the radical gospel call to discipleship. At best one can speak of religious life as a more explicit and unambiguous lifestyle that witnesses to the common vocation of all Christians. Conclusion The tensions just described are an enduring part of our rela-tionship with God. Our spirituality will always be a balance between objective and subjective, perfection and process, private and communal, dualism and wholeness, other-worldly and this-worldly. As Richard McBrien has pointed out frequently, Catholicism is not a matter of either/or but of both/and. There is no question of rejecting one way and replacing it completely with another, but rather of claiming a new richness that respects the older way and opens new ways of living our Christian lives. My novitiate experience of thirty-five ye~ars ago focused almost exclu-sively on the objective, perfection, private, dualistic, and other-worldly dimensions of our relationship with God. Contemporary spirituality has swung the pendulum dramatically to the other pole. The challenge is to move beyond a reactionary position and to integrate the truth of the previous way of relating to God with a new and rich experience of God and the human person. The swing of the pendulum, as we have seen, comes from a new under-standing of revelation, grace, and the church and of the human person, the world, and salvation. Developments in theology and new dimensions of religious experience continue to enrich one another and open new possibilities in our relationship with God. Each age in the life of the church struggles to define Christians' relationship with God. Christian spirituality is a lived experience shaped by life, culture, and theology, but above all by the graced invitation of God. I conclude by suggesting four char-acteristics of a Christian spirituality that is responsive to the invi-tation and challenge of the contemporary world. We need an incarnational spirituality that finds mystery and the sacred in the midst of a radical affirmation of the giftedness of the world, that finds God not only above us but also with us. We need a holistic spirituality that integrates more fully into our spiritual growth the nonrational dimensions of our person, fostering a healthy sense of sin and forgiveness and respecting the human psyche's limitations and possibilities for growth in God's life. We need a 826 Review for Religious prophet# spirituality that integrates the mystical and the political and sees a passion for justice and solidarity with the poor as inte-gral to contemplative union with God. We need an ecdesial spir-ituality that lives out our relationship with God in the community of disciples, harmonizes discernment and religious authority, and responds to the call to ministry that baptismal grace enables us to hear. In the end, Christian spirituality will always remain a response to the gospel call to conversion and discipleship. In every age it promises a growth in a personal relationship with God and demands a commitment in the context of a community of faith, but in the midst 6f these constant elements Christians will con-tinue to be attentive to the movements of the Spirit in their lives and to explore new ways of relating to God. Holofrosts The offerings to God this winter's morning Are holofrosts, not burnt but frozen;fruit Of the vine hangs shriveled as nuggets of ice, The works of human hands .are noughted out By whiteness of snow. Offering God of his own From the elements given us, we lift up As gifts at his altar: his earth, air, Water, hard-touched by December, challenging Us to be devout in our changing seasons Of spring-weather faith, frost-withered doubt. Nancy G. Westerfield November-December 1993 827 A. PAUL DOMINIC Desire, Asking, and Answers porayer, as St. Thomas Aquinas said, is the articulation of ur desire before God.~ That is the way we teach our chil-dren their first practical lesson in religion: we teach them to ask God for what they want. As people grow in spiritual life, they can never outgrow the spirit of their beginnings, if for no other reason than that the highest reaches cannot exist without the low-est attainments. There is reason, then, not to abandon altogether the early, petitionary stage of spiritual life, but to continue to experience its varying moods and movements. Here biblical personages at once spiritual and earthy can be illustrative and illuminative. The recorded experiences of Hannah, David, and Job are relevant. They are all apparently of marked spirituality, notably above the ordinary. Yet in their dealings with God they do not remain always ethereal. Possessed of human desires, too, as down-to-earth people, they approach God openly with the desires of their heart. That is to say, they are simple enough not to be shatmning but to move with the tide of their life. Spiritually oriented people will neglect this basic lesson only to their cost. Not much is known of Hannah, surely; but the little that is known of her reveals her womanly spiritual fiber. Her husband, Elkanah, less known than herself, is religious too, but in the usual way, performing the regular practices like yearly pilgrimage. Perhaps part of his routine spirituality is his seeming resignation A. Paul Dominic SJ, author of God of Justice (Bombay: St. Paul Publications), is well known to our readers. His address is Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. 828 Review for Religious to God's disposition regarding Hannah's barrenness. But Hannah herself would not be resigned to her situation. She burns with desire for a son as much as, or even more than, she is resentful and in distress because of the taunts of the other wife, who is not bar-ren. All this compounded desire of her heart she pours out to her God, completely oblivious of her surroundings, and she keeps on beseeching him for a son till--that is the important point here-- she is assured that she will get what she has painfully longed for. She has not supplicated in vain. No wonder she knows peace in her heart. David is great in every way, in particular in his spiritual gifts. He attains spiritual heights on certain occasions when God sur-prises him with choice favors. But he also knows low spirits and even falls. Then he prays, staying where he is. One such occa-sion is when he realizes that he has to pay for his adultery by the death of the child of adultery. Though he owns his sin, still he wants the son his sin produced. How he prays for the life of the child, struck by God with a grave illness! He pleads with God for his child, fasting and lying on the ground for days together. He prays with all his energies, hoping against hope till he realizes that the child has died. He has supplicated in vain and still, sur-prisingly enough, seems to find unusual peace in his heart. Job is an exceptional figure who manages a happy blend of his wealth in the world with his godly life. If he has enjoyed all the prosperity in the world, still he seeks and humbly keeps his integrity before his God. Such a man, however, meets with one disaster after another. Even then he allows no curse to cross his mind or lips; on the contrary, he walks humbly with God, bless-ing him still. However, in the prolonged anguish of his final dis-aster, made worse by his three friends preachifying to the effect that every sufferer must be necessarily a sinner, he is stung to the quick and so driven to defend his honor. He argues with them point by point, personally convinced that there is no sin that would explain his suffering. In between he puts the matter before God, too, quite unafraid, now lamenting his plight, now com-plaining to him, now appealing to him, now reasoning with him, now challenging him, then yearning to reach him, all the while wanting to vindicate his stand that he is innocent, whatever the traditional doctrine of retribution may be. He has supplicated alone and in company, aloud and in silence, passing through the struggle of it all, only to be surprised at the end by the mysteri- Nove~nber-Decen;ber 1993 829 Dontinic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers ous and yet overwhelmingly peaceful vision of God clearing up all the aggnizing questions and difficulties. The three biblical episodes ~nay be compared to one another as regards three elements common to them. First, the three pro-tagonists experience an urgent desire. Second, they take it up in their prayer, making it indeed their whole prayer, however long drawn out it may be. Third, they attain something positive. First, then, they are alike in experiencing desires, however various the desires may be. Hannah desires a son. Her desire is natural, normal, proper, appropriate, and worthy inasmuch as she wants only the full enjoyment of her marriage as willed by God right from the beginning. David desires that the son of his passion, born of another man's wife, should live and not die. His desire, too, is natural and normal and yet perhaps not especially worthy, if only because the circumstantial will of God is for the child of adultery to die. Job desires an answer to the puzzle of his unde-served suffering. His desire, too, is nor~nal and natural and yet only dubiously proper against the background of the common traditional belief that every suffering implies some sin in the suf-ferer. While Hannah's desire is in every way agreeable, David's and Job's are not particularly so. David resists the apparent mind of God regarding the fruit of his sin, and Job's honest and frank desire is naively bold because it seems to put God in the wrong. Second, however one evaluates the three desires, they are nevertheless real and candid; the persons know and feel their desire as only they can. They find it so urgent that they do not fight shy of voicing it before other "people and even before God. They do not simply pray about it, but make it their sole and con-stant prayer. Without any distracting self-consciousness, they sim-ply present themselves before God as they experience their desire consuming them, not minding or caring whether they might come across to casual observers as strange or surprising or suspect. Possessed by their sole burning desire, they beseech God persis-tently without any thought of circumspection or shame or seem-ing propriety till something good happens to them--which leads to my third point. In Hannah's case, what happens is just what she has desired and prayed for. She gets a son and calls him Samuel since, as she says, "I asked Yahweh iCor him" (i S 1:20). In David's case, what happens is just the opposite:of his lingering desire and prayer. His ill-gotten child whom he wants to see saved dies of illness. But 830 Re'view for Religious David--note well--comes alive after the whole ordeal of pray-ing, pining, and fasting. He bathes, anoints himself, dresses up, goes to the sanctuary, then sits down to a meal, and finally even consoles his forlorn Bathsheba. In Job's case, what happens is not just what he agonizingly wanted to find, for he finds far more than he has dared ask. He has asked only for a vindicating proof of his undeserved suffering, but he is given to see God himself, the answer of all possible problems and puzzles. It may appear at first sight that the prayer arising from and suffused with unquenchable desire turns out to be a success for Hannah, a fail-ure for David, and a mere struggle for Job. But further reflection would show that the reality or radicality of their experience is not that simple. The feverish desires of David and Job may not have ended in natural, ordinary, and expected satisfaction as in the case of Hannah. But they too have their definite, unmistakable denouement, with their desires set at rest. Indeed, they attain what may be called the res-olution of their desires, a positive ending to their experience of desire in and through and by means of prayer. Here is a lesson for life. Despite the obvious differences in their desires, Hannah, David, and Job all end up with positive experiences through prayer. Their prayer experience has some-thing in common: making their desire transparent to God or, bet-ter, living their desire before God in all its urgency. The experience of any urgent desire is itself a sort of struggle till its ful-fillment. This is only accentuated when the fulfillment of desire depends, not on oneself, but on the good pleasure of another--in the present context, God. So Hannah prays in an unusual manner, speaking under her breath, giving room for suspicion that she is drunk. So too does David, to the surprise of his officials, covering himself with sack-ing, lying on the bare ground and keeping a strict fast. So too does Job, confounding and shocking his onlookers by his unortho-dox stand that, though he has been afflicted with the worst of Despite the obvious differences in their desires, Hannah, David, and Job all end up with positive experiences through prayer. November-December 1993 831 Dominic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers sufferings, he cannot be accused of having really sinned. Even if he occasionally concedes, for the sake of argument, that he has sinned, he challenges God outright: "Suppose I have sinned, what have I done to you?" (Jb 7:20). But the burden of his prayer runs now and again in such words as these: "I shall say to God, 'Do not condemn me, but tell me the reason for your assault. Is it right for you to injure me, cheapening the work of your own hands and abetting the schemes of the wicked?'" (Jb 10:2-3). He ends his apologia daringly with no apology whatever: "I have had my say, from A to Z; now let Shaddai answer me" (Jb 31:35). How acute must be the struggle of the man who, in his dire straits, makes bold to speak to God without mincing words about what he wants. If Hannah and David, too, definitely pass through quite a struggle in their prayer seeking what they want, theirs would seem to be nothing compared with the struggle of Job for God's own vindication of his innocence. Generally speaking, the struggle experienced in prayer as peo-ple keep on imploring God for what they want is proportionate to the intensity of their desire. The surpassing struggle Job goes through in his prayer reveals how hard he desires. There is, if one may put it this way, truth in his desire. That is to say, his desire is so true and so truly possessing and consuming him that he needs must seek its fulfillment by every means possible, even if it should entail a gigantic struggle. Here may be raised a very important question concerning prayer. If people pray and complain that they do not get an answer to their prayer, it may be asked whether their prayer arises out of truth, the truth of their desire in the sense suggested above. People may be accustomed to and satisfied with bland preferences, with mere velleities, and thus ,nay not have true desire even if they know, or seem to know, what they desire. Certainly velleities are palt~ desires. It is worth noting in this context that Job with his ruling desire and passionate prayer is a fictitious figure, unlike Hannah and David. From this may one not infer that people like Job are seldom found in real life, that rarely are real people moved by strong, ardent, fervent, and in a word true desire? But without desire there can be no prayer, for desire is part and parcel of prayer. St. Thomas said so (as I have indicated above), and St. Augustine had said something similar much ear-lier. Writing to Proba on prayer, he pointed out that, if the Lord wants us to pray even though he certainly knows independently 832 Review for Religious our wants and needs, it is because "he wants our desire to be exer-cised in prayer, thus enabling us to grasp what he is preparing to give.''2 He added: "We pray always in faith, hope, and love, with uninterrupted desire. Btit at certain hours and seasons we also pray with words. We use these signs of realities to rouse our-selves, to become aware of the growth of our desire, and to strongly move ourselves to increase it . What do the Apostle's words, 'Pray constantly,' mean, if not that we must constantly desire. ?-3 Of course, one may remark quite correctly that in the context Augustine had in his mind a constant desire for the blessedness of eternal life. One may observe just as correctly, however, that what we do in prayer--namely, exercise our desire--may reach out not only to eternal life, but to present life as well, with aH that we want here and now. Anyhow, the very prayer that Jesus taught explicitly is not confined to holy desires connected with God and his kingdom, but, in the phrase "daily bread," makes mention of ordinary human desires and material needs. The Lord's Prayer certainly includes the gamut of human desires, from the lofty to the lowly. Other teachings of Jesus on prayer also focus on desire expe-rienced and expressed before God. The parables of the importu-nate friend and the widow (Lk 11:5-8; 18:1-8), for instance, emphasize the keenness of desire without which prayer would flag and falter. Apart from desire there can be no meaning in prayer of peti.tion; and it is this sort of simple, straightforward prayer that Jesus mostly speaks of. His injunction regarding effec-tive, infallible prayer is to "ask. search., knock" (Mr 7:7); and this really means that one should go on asking and searching and knocking with the growing impulse of intense desire. This real-ity of glowing desire may throw light even on the basic require-ment-- namely, belief or faith--in all such prayer. For instance, in the saying of Jesus that "everything you ask and pray for, believe that );ou have it already, and it will be yours" (Mk 11:24), the action of belief is as much an activity of desire as it is anything else.4 When belief comes into play in prayer, it invariably brings desire into the foreground, the desire which was already there in the prayer right from the start. All this is not a matter of theory but of practice, as may be seen in dealings of Jesus wifla people to whom he grants favors. In the case of the Syrophoenician woman, Jesus senses right from November-Decentber 1993 833 Dominic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers the beginning how badly she desires the healing of her daughter. His apparent reluctance to accede to her request only brings out all the more her desire, at once insistent and persistent, regard-ing her daughter's welfare. He takes note of it and refers to it with pleasant surprise when he finally' gives his word of favor to her request (see Mk 7:24-30).s Just the opposite is the story of the sick man at the Pool of Bethzatha (Jn 5:1-6). When Jesus sees him and knows how long he has been ill, he asks him, "Do you want to be well again?" It is a surprising question at first, but on reflection very revealing. Jesus cannot heal the sick man unless he first desires it. As the man had been ill for so long, perhaps he no longer has any desire for healing. It is precisely to awaken this desire that Jesus puts the question to him. Today, too, neither Jesus nor his Father can hear any prayer unless it arises in real desire and is poured out in ardent desire and sustained in unabated desire. It matters how much and how far we desire whatever we desire. As I conclude, I find myself won-derii~ g if social activists have an idea how much they can effect by prayer that is sharpened by the "violence" of desire. When I say violence here, I am thinking of that intriguing logion: "The king-dom of God has been subjected to violence and the violent are tak-ing it by storm" (Mt 11:12). Notes ~ See Simon Tugwell, Prayer in Practice (Springfield, Illinois, 1974), p. 75. 2 See The Divine Office, vol. 3 (London, Glasgow, Sydney, Dublin, 1974), p. 662. 3 Letters of Saint Augustine, ed. and trans. John Leinenweber (Liguori, Missouri: Triumph Books, 1992), p. 172. 4 The Markan version lends itself to such an interpretation, unlike the Matthean parallel 21:22 with its connotation of faith as a matter of not doubting about what is prayed for. s Here again Mark is different from Matthew. Mark tells the plain story of the woman with her heart's desire whereas Matthew stylizes it in terms of faith (Mt 15:21-28). 834 Review for Religious JUDETTE A. GALLARES Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Te Book of Ruth is one of the immortal love stories in the ble. It takes as its characters and events ordinary people and mundane life situations to which we can easily find parallels in our world today. The book's primary purpose, however, is not to entertain and delight its audience with plot complications, sus-pense, and a satisfying denouement, but to hold up to its readers and listeners authentic models of covenantal faith? What is this covenantal faith, and how does companionship enter into its perspective? What does the spirituality of compan-ionship teach us in our experiences of change, life transitions, and emptiness? To glean some answers to these questions, it is beneficial to allow to sink into our consciousness Ruth's words to Naomi, her mother-in-law, which have become an immortal prayer of companionship. Let us look at her words within their context as summarized here. During the time of the judges, Elimelech of Bethlehem, together with his wife Naomi and his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, migrated to Moab to escape a famine in Judah. Elimelech died in Moab. His sons married two Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. The two sons also died, however, leaving two childless wid-ows with their widowed mother-in-law. Naomi decided to return to Bethlehem, and her daughters-in-law, set off with her. While they were on the road, she urged her daughters-in-law each to return to her mother's house, for she was unsure of what future Judette A. Gallares RC is involved in spiritual direction and retreat work in the Philippines and conducts courses on biblical spirituality and spiritual direction for lay and religious formators. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 217-G.D. Jakosalem Street; Cebu City 6000; Philippines. Novetnber-Deconber 1993 835 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth they would have with her. Orpah sorrowfully returned to her fam-ily, but Ruth clung to her mother-in-law in spite of Naomi's prod-ding that she follow Orpah's decision. Instead, she responded in these words: Do not press me to leave you and to stop going with you, for wherever you go, I shall go, wherever you live, I shall live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Where you die, I shall die and there I shall be buried. Let Yahweh bring unnameable ills on me and worse ills, too, if anything but death should part me from you! (Rt 1:16-17). Realizing that Ruth was determined to go with her, Naomi stopped urging her. Both went on their journey until they reached Bethlehem. Migration was rather typical of ancient Palestine. Families often migrated because of the frequent occurrence of famine in the area. The country of Moab, with a narrow strip of well-watered and fertile land running north and south in its center, was an attractive refuge, and so Elimelech, Naomi, and their two sons migrated there. This scenario is familiar even today. To escape economic dif-ficulties caused by drought or increased militarization in third-world rural areas, people flock to the cities and towns seeking either the pot of gold or refuge from military oppression. Professionals continually migrate from third-world to first-world countries in search of better opportunities even though, regret-tably, this slows down socioeconomic development in their own countries. Migration for the sake of survival and a better life is an undei'- standable occurrence in any generation and culture. Biblical lit-erature records a number of such departures. We recall Joseph and his famil)) moving to Goshen (Gn 47:27) and a widow fol-lowing Elisha's advice and moving to the land of the Philistines (2 K 8). So Elimelech's decision to leave Bethlehem of Judah together with his family is understandable. To alert us immediately to the development and historical probability of the story, the author also gives the characters names which in Hebrew have symbolic meanings. Elimelech means "my God is king"; Naomi means "pleasant"; the two sons' names, Mahlon and Chilion, .mean "sickness" and "wasting," respectively.2 After they have settled in Moab, death strikes the male members 836 Review for Religious of Naomi's family. Elimelech dies first. Naomi is left with her two sons, who later marry native women. But after ten years the sons also die without leaving any sons. Naomi, a widow of advanced age with no sons but only non-Jewish and childless daughters-in-law, is therefore destined for a life of destitution and social oppression. In her emptiness and poverty, Naomi decides to return to the land of her birth because the famine there is over. Perhaps she thinks her own townspeople will be kinder to her in her poverty than if she were to remain in Moab as a widowed foreigner. Her two widowed daughters-in-law initially go with her, but she urges them to return to their own families. She just cannot impose her desire and longing for her own land and people on her already suffering daughters-in-law, nor can she deprive them of the small consolation that their own homeland would provide them. Besides, she knows that it would be much more dif-ficult for them, being foreigners, to remarry in her homeland than in theirs because Hebrew laws discourage marriage with foreigners.3 Here Naomi is projected as a practical person. She uses the time, not for grieving, but for doing something in a situation that needs a practical solution. Naomi's use of the unusual phrase "mother's house" is to be noted, for a house is usually designated as one's father's.4 Some com-mentators believe it is used to symbolize or to emphasize the absence of men in the women's lives.5 From another perspective it can also be seen as words of consolation to the suffering women, for the word "mother" evokes images of the love, care, and nur-turance one would long for in a time of brokenness. Orpah heeds Naomi's advice and returns to her people: Ruth refuses. Mthough the motif of ~mptiness is strongly accentuated here, by Naomi's saying that her womb will have no more sons, we see that she is not totally bereft, for Ruth would cling to her and not allow her to return to her homeland alone. Responding to her mother-in-law's pleading send-off with words of loyalty and devotion, Ruth vows to accompany Naomi through a per-ilous journey into an uncertain future. Migration for the sake of survival and a better life is an understandable occurrence in any generation and culture. Novevnber-Dece~nber 1993 837 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Ruth pledges covenant fidelity and claims as her own Naomi's place, people, and God.6 In her beautiful and moving response, Ruth clings not to a past but to a present--not to a male through whom she may achieve power and access, but to a female, one who needs her, one for whom she will provide protection, care, and access.7 Ruth thus gives to her mother-in-law the only thing she possesses, her very self. Even if society destines both of them to a life of extreme poverty as widows, they still have each other. We can still see this kind of attitude among simple poor families. They are extremely loyal to their own members and sacrifice for and protect one another in good times and in bad. Together the two widows now turn their faces resolutely toward Palestine and the city of Bethlehem. The distance between Moab and Bethlehem is only about 120 miles, but this stretch represents a long, fatiguing, and dangerous trek in this period, especially for two women who have neither money beyond their barest needs nor protector.8 It is this journey through barren places that will perhaps bring them closer to each other and cause them to cling more closely together for protection, comfort, and support. Covenantal Faith amid Emptiness in Life Transitions The contrast between emptiness and fullness runs through the entire book. This is seen, not only in the setting itself, but also in the lives of the women characters. The famine or the emptiness of the land that sets the story in motion drives Naomi's family to seek greener fields. Leaving one's country and culture as Naomi did is an experience of emptying, an experience of loss: food, rela-tionships, property, land. It is a recurring motif in the life of Israel and throughout salvation history, beginning with God inviting Abraham to leave his clan and his ancestral home for a promised land. In Abraham we see that God's promise and blessing are indissolubly bound up with a departure, an emptying of anything that prevents one from setting out on an adventure with God. For Naomi, however, Moab turned out to be a place of empti-ness, not a land of promise. There she lost not only her husband but her two sons as well. Her emptiness seemed irreparable, her life hollow deep within. These words of the psalmist could have echoed in her heai't: "How could we sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land?" (Ps 137:4 NAB).)It would be difficult indeed for 838 Review for Religious anyone in Naomi's predicament to sing a song to God amid feel-ings of alienation from God, life, others, and even self. Grief has a way of devouring our spiritual life, leaving us in the desert to feel parched, empty, depleted, lonely, and alienated. Naomi could attribute the cause of her incurable emptiness only to God: "Yahweh's hand has been raised against me." Thus, only God also could fill it. Beyond her empty feeling and sense of God's absence is perhaps a fragile hope that God will also cause her misery to cease. Perhaps this was in her mind and heart when, "having heard that Yahweh had come to help his people by giving them food, Naomi prepared to return home." Her poverty and her emptiness are so basic that they can be intimated by an unadorned reference to food. Beyond a need to fill her physical hunger, she perhaps has a keen desire to reconcile herself with the past, to catch a glimpse of home and of who she is meant to be. John Dunne once wrote9: At every turn in the road a new illuminating is needed to find the way and a new kindling is needed to follow the way. Dunne seems to speak here of moments of transition in one's life when one needs to search within to find illumination or guid-ance to continue going forward on the road to life. This search involves returning to the past, to one's home and roots and being reconciled with them. Naomi, in her poverty and emptiness, thinks of home not only as a place where she could experience God's blessing again' (having heard that Yahweh had come to help his people), but also as a place where she can find peace and acceptance of her painful situation ("Do not call me Naomi. Call me Mara, for God has made life bitter for me"). Her words reflect a deep longing that is present in every human heart. A part in us is always yearning and quietly crying out for the true homeland where life is no longer painful and unfair,l° Undoubtedly Naomi's two Moabite daughters-in-law are also experiencing emptiness and grief at losing their husbands. In their loss their initial response is to cling to what is familiar (to continue living with Naomi and to remain in her clan) even if it does not seem to give them any kind of future. Orpah is practical minded in dealing with her emptiness. In spite of the pain of saying good-bye to Naomi and Ruth and to matters that have become famil-iar to her, she heeds Naomi's advice and returns to her mother's November-December 199~ 839 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth house. Perhaps she feels hopeful that life can still offer her a future in her own homeland, and perhaps she, like Naomi, has a renewed glimpse of home and the possibility of who she can still become. Companionship in Time of Transition On the other hand, Ruth clings to her mother-in-law and takes the risk of embracing, her, her land, and her God even if the future is uncertain and seemingly bleak. Although she too is going through ~ransition, she offers Naomi her presence and com-panionship. She feels for her mother-in-law because she too knows the pain of loss and the difficulty of adjusting to a new reality. But, unlike Naomi, she is not allowing this life transition to dis-courage her or to embitter her. For her a return to her mother's house has seemed to be a movement away from what and who she is meant to be. Instead, she follows the movement of Israel's first patriarch by leaving her homeland and venturing into the unknown. Like Abraham she departs from her homeland and empties herself of anything that prevents her from setting out on an adventure with Abraham's and Naomi's God. But, unlike Abraham, she does not perceive the God of Israel as giving her a promise and a blessing. She has none of these assurances. She leaves relying only on Naomi's God and the strength of her love for her mother-in-law. She deals with her emptiness by further emptying herself s~ she can embrace totally the God of Abraham, of Naomi, and of Israel. She lets go of the past in order to embrace the future with great faithfulness. And in these b~autiful words which have become an immortal prayer of fidelity, ~he accompa-nies Naomi through her life transition: Wherever you go, I shill go, wherever you live, I shall live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I shall die and there I shall be buried. Let Yahweh bring unnameable ills on me and worse ills, too, if anything but death should part me from you! (1:16-17 NJB). As we have seen, biblical fidelity recalls the faith of Israel that began with the departure of Abraham and led to the Mosaic covenant with God. It remembers the unique friendship estab-lished between God and Israel that is echoed in the entire Book of.Ruth and is exemplified by Ruth and other people in the story. 840 Review for Religiot~s At the heart of this covenant fidelity is the people's faith that Yahweh is the God of life who calls them to greater life. In the language and setting of today, faith calls us to face the light and to choose life. It enables us to look upon each letting go with optimism and prepares us to face other more painful relin-quishments that commit us more fully to God's service. It enables us to catch a glimpse of who we are meant to be. As with Ruth and Naomi, faith urges us to move forward and embrace the God of life. Notes L Alice L. Laffey, "Ruth," in the New Jerome Biblical Commentary (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1990), p. 553. 2 Ibid. 3 Intermarriage was prohibited, not on ethnic grounds, but to avoid religious syncretism and to foster the worship of Yahweh (see Ex 34:15ff). See Madeleine S. Miller and J. Lane Miller, Harper's Bible Dictiona,7 (New York: Harper and Row Publishers, 1973), p. 422. 4 Ibid. s Ibid. 6 See Laffey, p. 555. 7 Ibid. 8 Edith Deen, All of the Women of the Bible (San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1983), p. 84. 9 Quoted byJoyce Rupp OSM in Praying Our Goodbyes (Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1988), p. 77. ~0 Ibid, p. 24. Novonber-Decentber 1993 841 JOHN P. MOSSI The Spirituality of Surrender Losing, whether it is losing a friendly bet, an important argument, or a business contract, is a difficult pill to swal-low. We detest losing. The same is true for tiny diehard sports fan who endures a hometown rout. We walk away replaying the game, blaming the unfair referees, or creating strategies that "would have" favorably altered the score. When the defeat entails greater stakes, there is higher resis-tance to a surrender. To address a serious problem like addiction is personally painful. Implicit in such reality is a pervasive sense of failure. One has lost control over life's direction. The only way to regain control is to surrender what has not worked and seek a new way. This process is replete with difficulty. This article will examine the spirituality of surrender as a means of comin.g home to God? Surrendering to God will be looked at in three ways. The first involves an understanding of how surrender is operative in twelve-step recovery programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. The second involves a look at the life of Ignatius of Loyola and the surrender components of the final prayer of the Spiritual Exercises, the "Suscipe," or "Take and Receive." The third considers Jesus' act of surrender on the cross in Luke 23:46. Each of these three different "ways" of surren-dering involves putting our ultimate identity and confidence in God. John P. Mossi SJ, a member of the Religious Studies Department at Gonzaga University, facilitates courses in pastoral counseling, spiritual mentoring, addiction and pastoral approaches to recovery, and Catholicism. His address is Gonzaga University; Jesuit Residence; Spokane, Washington 99258. 842 Review for Religious Let Go, Let God At Alcoholics Anonymous meetings or twelve-step recovery retreats, the expression "Let go, let God" is often used. These four important words constitute the core spirituality of A.A. and similar recovery programs that have adapted the twelve steps to their particular addiction. "Let go, let God" is an invitation to surrender one's umnanageable life to God. "Let go, let God" is a gentle conversion reminder, a kind of mantra, which assists us both to admit the addiction and to hand it over along with its various forms of com-pulsions to God. The long form of the prayer would be something like "Let go of alcohol (or whatever the specific substance or non-substance addiction might be) and let the hand and grace of God guide my life." The prayer is not magic. Saying "Let go, let God" does not instantaneously bring about recovery. Its first purpose is to assist the recov-ering addict to keep to the daily partnership task of surrendering the addiction to God. The second purpose of "Let go, let God" is. to be a prayer of liberation, to call on the greater power of God to help one escape from destructive lifestyle patterns. In this way the creative resources of the individual and the action of God are focused on together. The prayer also serves to silence those addic-tion- related inner-committee tapes and voices of doubt, loneli-ness, fear, and caustic shame that can interfere with a person's slow recovery. These, too, need to be handed over to God. I have the greatest admiration for all who enter the surrender process of a twelve-step program. For many, it is the difference between death and life, the difference between barely existing as a human and participating in community, between dysfunction-alism and experiencing the serenity that only God gives with amazing grace. The first three steps of Anonymous programs set up this "Let go, let God" dynamic. The language of the twelve steps is straight-forward and simple. This is part of their wisdom and wide appeal. The steps make sense to a lot of people. Since A.A. began in 1935 at Akron, Ohio, Anonymous recovery programs have multiplied to treat various forms of addiction.2 These include Narcotics "Let go, let God" is an invitation to surrender one's unmanageable life to God. November-December 1993 843 Mossi ¯ The Spirituality of Surrender Anonymous, Overeaters Anonymous, Gamblers Anonymous, Emotions Anonymous, Workaholics Anonymous, Sexaholics Anonymous, M-Anon, and Adult Children of Mcoholics. Let us examine these first three steps. 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol [or the other specific addiction], that our lives had become unmanageable) The first step is crucial. You admit you have a serious prob-lem. There is no denial of the fact. The blunt reality is your life is out of control, in fact, unmanageable. Furthermore, you are powerless to do anything about it. At Anonymous meetings, this first step is handled in an up-front manner. When members speak, they state their first name and their addictiveness: "I'm John. I'm an alcoholic." "I'm Susan. I'm a recovering overeater." In formal religion we might refer to this acknowledgment as group confession. In recovery programs it is simply admitting what can no longer be denied. Step one is an honest, vulnerable beginning place. Owning and naming the unmanageable addiction is essential to the surrendering process. When one is aware o£ a specific uncontrollable disease, one can effectively pray "Let go." But to whom does one surrender? Steps two and three look at the second part of the mantra: "Let God." God is the significant associate in restoring harmony. To appreciate the spirituality of the twelve steps, it is important to reflect that the existence and action of God are mentioned seven times in the twelve steps. The par-ticular addiction is only mentioned once, and that is in the first step. The activity of surrendering one's addiction and life to God becomes the spirituality cornerstone of the remaining steps. 2. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.4 Step two admits the need of an outside corrective authority, a Higher Power, to bring about a stability in one's life. This is the first glimpse of light that invites God in as the restorer of sanity. There are two other important spirituality elements opera-tire in the second step: (i) the belief that a Higher Wisdom exists and (2) a disposition of humility on the part of the believer. These two qualities counterculturally work against the arrogance of the ego that craves to cling to the addiction. Step two indicates that the recovery process entails an attentive listening to a new Teacher, which means that the addict has to take on the attitude 844 Review for Religious of learner. There is a major shift in trust: from addiction to God. 3. We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him.s Step three is where the capitulation actually occurs. First, a concrete decision to surrender has to be made. Second, this deci-sion is total. It includes the will making conscious choices, and it affects one's entire being and journey. Third, the whole person is placed in the care of God according to the individual's faith back-ground. The spirituality of "Let go, let God" is a conversion process. Conversion of its nature has two basic movements: the surren-dering of the compulsion, shame, and destructive addictive pat-terns which reduce freedom; the turning to the care of God and the Holy Spirit to be one's permanent resource of wisdom and identity. Matthew 11:28-30 speaks of a "letting go, letting God" pro-cess: "Come to me, all you who labor and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.''6 These three verses contain the confirmation signs that accompany a true surrender. A learning will occur, the process will be gentle and humble. Rest will be experienced. A new relationship arises, a companionship with the Master, which will be nonaddictive, easy, and light. The Surrender of Ignatius of Loyola Another way of surrendering one's life to God comes from the spirituality of Ignatius's surrender as expressed in his prayer the "Suscipe," or "Take and Receive." On his pilgrim journey Ignatius was called to surrender on several notable occasions. The first was during the defense of the city of Pamplona, Spain. In 1521 Ignatius, wounded by cannon shrapnel, reviewed the illusions of his life as sober death approached. But he did not die. His long convalescence became a conversion process. He gradually yielded up his stubborn self-preoccupation, bravado, and ambition and began to discover a new self in God.7 The spirituality record of Ignatius's surrender to God is found in his classic work, the Spiritual Exercises. Today, 450 years after its first published edition, it is still considered a significant theo-logical work noted for its integration of Scripture, guidelines for Nove~nber-Dece'mber 1993 845 Mossi ¯ The Spirituality of Surrender discernment, sense of mission, and themes of justice. The Exercises' developmental stages of growth in discipleship and intimacy enable a person to come home to God. The last prayer of the Exercises is called the "Suscipe" or "Take and Receive." I invite you to spend some time contemplating the components of this prayer. What is Ignatius, the once vain soldier-at- arms, now a mystic, asking us to do? Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will-- all that I have and call my own. You have given it all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace. That is enough for me.8 The "Suscipe" is a deceptively profound prayer. It invites us to acknowledge the primacy of God in our totality; it answers the humbling question "What aspect of our being is not a gift of God?" In the light of this answer, Ignatius invites us to surrender all to God. The last part of the prayer is a seeking of the purer gifts: "Give me only your love and grace. That is enough for me." Ignatius does not compromise in the process of "letting go of self and letting God in." I recall a forceful experience in praying the "Suscipe." It hap-pened fifteen years ago during a retreat. I attempted to pray and could not. I realized I had not surrendered anything, certainly not my liberty, memory, understanding, and will to anyone, much less to God. I told my director that I could not pray this prayer at all. As a consequence, I seriously questioned remaining a Jesuit. The director gave sage advice. He invited me to return to the chapel and pray the "Suscipe" with my own words in my own way. I prayed, "Lord, I give you my sins which I know so well, those many areas of my life where I am not obedient, poor, and chaste. I give you my pride, my negativity, my hatred and vin-dictiveness, my compulsive rebellion and addictiveness to self. I am overly familiar with these dark recesses. And I truly need to sur-render these to you. Send forth your Holy Spirit to guide, anoint, ¯ and heal with a love that I am most in need of, your grace." 846 Review for Religious Like an ambush, the opportunity to surrender can appear at unlikely moments. Do not let the occasion pass by. The benefit of letting God in always outweighs whatever is surrendered. Jesus on the Cross We turn to the spirituality of Jesus and the particular way he has taught us to surrender. He, too, had to face a special moment of surrender. His prayer in Luke 23:46 is a powerful expression of letting go: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.''9 Here on the cross Jesus is still the master teacher. He models for us how to pray and hand over our daily experiences and our life to God. Notice the key elements: (1) The prayer is addressed to the Father; (2)Jesus urges us to surrender, to commend, to let go; (3) Jesus specifies what is to be handed over. He gives what little is left, his spirit and last breath. In the daily minor or major surrenders of our own pilgrimage, we can pray in the spirituality of either the twelve steps, Ignatius, or Jesus. Specify in the "Let go, let God" mantra and the "Suscipe" whatever needs to be named and yielded: "Let go of addiction and manipulation. Let God in." "Take, Lord, my dis-honesty, my hurts, my doubts and sinfulness." God can handle and work with these blighted areas quite well. Adapt the prayer of Jesus to your immediate concerns: "Father, into your hands I commit my grief, my sense of failure, my disappointment, my pettiness and vulnerability." Commend these regions of brokenness to the higher compassion and under-standing of God. It is clear that not only our joys but also our sorrows must be offered to God. Our ability to be powerless allows God to meet us and tenderly heal us on our journey, embracing us as we truly are. Moreover, the art 6f surrendering involves a lifelong process. Some days we succeed better than others. If we post-pone learning the spirituality of surrender, we will face it unpre-pared at death, when .the surrender is sudden. Perhaps we can learn to surrender to the care, to the heart, of God in advance. Notes ~ For more information on this topic, see Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991), pp. 162-181. Nove'mber-December 1993 847 Mossi * The Spirituality of Surrender 2 Ernest Kurtz, Not-God: A Histo~7 of Alcoholics Anonymous (Center City, Minn.: Hazeldon, 1991), pp. 37-57. 3 Anonymous, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, 1952), p. 21. 4 Ibid, p. 25. ~ Ibid, p. 34. 6 The New Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday, 1985). 7 St. Ignatius' Own Story, trans. William J. Young sJ (Chicago: Henry Regnery Co., 1956), pp. 7-27. 8 David L. Fleming SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1980), p. 141. 9 The New Jerusalem Bible. Retreat: A Flight The gulls are going wild over the waters; dipping, zooming, swirling over the wild waters. Far away, at horizon's edge, two ships imperceptibly inch against a purpling sky. I look up and see clouds playing charades before my eyes; straight out, the waves, wind-tossed, chase the dunes relentlessly. It is December at Mantoloking, and my Advent prayer has taken off with the clouds and the winds and the waves. I surrender, like a Maid of long ago to a time of begetting: in Mary, a Word made Flesh. in me, a sign become Faith. each a way of holding Beauty as a born-for-us Savior in a free-for-all world where the gulls (and my heart) go dipping, zooming, swirling with the wild of wonder. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 848 Review for Religious JEFFREY GROS The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious When Pope John emphasized the unity of the church and its openness to the world in inaugurating Vatican Council II, few realized the cost that such conversion would exact. Some felt euphoria, expecting the whole Roman Catholic Church to be zealous for reunion among Christians and hoping for a quick resolution of the theological, sacra-mental, and historical problems dividing the churches. Others, even some receptive to conciliar reform, had the superficial expectation that ecumenical openness would settle for a warm but noncommittal outreach, diminishing hostilities but not calling for the radical conversion and institutional reform outlined in the conciliar decree on ecumenism. The last twenty-five years have been a reward-ing and challenging pilgrimage for the Roman Catholic Church and for its Christian partners on the road toward full visible unity. Those who would consider the ecu-menical movement dead have not been following the lit-erature nor have they felt spiritual bonds of communion becoming stronger as many ofhers have. The Holy Spirit has been very much at work, but not all have yet been vis-ited with the gift of conversion. It is small wonder that, as the Roman Catholic Church assesses its ecumenical involvement and charts its course for the future, its Directory for the Application of Principles Jeffrey Gros FSC works in the Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs. His address is 3211 4th Street N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017-1194. ecurnenJsrn November-December 1993 849 Coos * The Ecumenical Vocation of Reli#ous and Norms on Ecumenism (June 1993) gives special emphasis to ecumenical formation.~ Indeed, the ecumenical movement has been so successful that a whole genre of literature has emerged, resulting from the ecumenical dialogue, that calls for both spe-cialized study and incorporation into the spiritual life of all Catholics, including religious. Twenty-five years ago it was pos-sible to be ecumenical merely by being open to and supportive of the general conciliar position and by praying for the unity of the church. Today ecumenical commitments have become a richer and more complex spectrum. Most religious-formation programs gave emphasis to ecumenism a decade or two ago. They need evaluation today to see if they continue faithful to the develop-ments of this part of Catholic identity. In the new Directory there is for the first time a specific section devoted to institutes of con-secrated life and societies of apostolic life, not only laying out principles, but also proposing delegates and commissions for ecu-menism at the highest levels in religious institutes.2 This Directory is a help towards renewal. It covers such top-ics as the basis in Catholic theology for ecumenical commitment; the structures in the Catholic Church--including religious com-munities- to support the ecumenical commitment; ecumenical formation of the laity and the clergy, and within specialized min-istries and institutions; spirituality as it pertains to common bap-tism, marriage, and sacramental sharing; and cooperation and common witness. After a short introduction this essay will be lim-ited to some rather general comments on two issues: ecumenical formation and collaboration. Religious have been instrumental in Roman Catholic ecu-menism- such pioneers as Congar, Tavard, Rahner, and Dulles. Some religious communities have prayer and work for the unity of the church as their charism, like the Graymoor friars and sis-ters and the Paulist fathers? Others have set up special supports for the ecumenical movement, like the Jesuit Society of Ecumenists and the Benedictine centers at Collegeville, Chevetogne, Turvey, and Niederaltaich. Outreach programs to incorporate lay people in, for example, Jesuit, Mercy, or Lasallian spirituality and apostolates have been thoroughly ecumenical in their membership and formation. Schools, hospitals, and other institutions animated by religious in leadership positions have pioneered the ecumenical program of the Catholic Church. Among diocesan ecumenical officers are many religious. Where 850 Review for Religious shared mission is a priority, the baptismal basis and commitment to full ecclesial communion are central to the common forma-tion of the fellow Christians who are brought into collaboration with Roman Catholic religious according to their particular charisms. These developments, like the other elements of renewal, have been adapted according to cultural context and the quality of vision provided by ecclesiastical and religious leadership. The Context Certainly many bishops and religious superiors will use the occasion of the publication of the Directory as an opportunity to train specialists in ecumenical leadership, much as retraining in canon law developed after the publication of the 1983 Code.4 As in biblical, social, and liturgical renewal, expertise is necessary in ecumenism. It is essential, however, that all religious, lay, and clerical members of the church be formed ecumenically as part of their spiritual and apostolic life. The Second Vatican Council clearly asked Catholics to reach out in love to all other Christians with a charity that desires and works actively to overcome in truth whatever divides them from one another. For the council, Catholics are to act in hope and in prayer to promote Christian unity. They will be prompted and instructed by their faith in the mystery of the church, and their ecumenical activity will be inspired and guided by a true understanding of the church as "sacrament or iristrumental sign of intimate union with God, and of unity of the whole human race.''s In this sho~'t essay attention will be called to the ecumenical dimension of Roman Catholic spirituality and identity in its pres-ent challenges. Among the institutional supports to religious involved in the ecumenical movement is the National Ecumenical Consultation of Men and Women Religious. This .group's publication of Religious for Christian Unity as an ecumenical resource and direc-tory and its sponsorship of a national ecumenical conference under the theme "Toward a Communion in Faith Life and Witness" are indications of a certain maturity.6 Although there has been an international ecumenical consultation for twenty years, the United States consultation is only nine years old. It is sponsored in part by the Conference of Major Superiors of Men and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. With the publication and the November-December 1993 851 Gros ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Reh~ous May 1993 conference, the specific ecumenical contribution of religious begins to have a higher profile. For the first time, the Directory proposes a structure within religious congregations to assist in the ecumenical activity of com-munities at all levels: It is very opportune that the various institutes of conse-crated life and societies of apostolic life establish, on the level of their central authorities, a delegate or a commis-sion charged with promoting and assisting their ecumenical engagement. The function of these delegates or commis-sions will be to encourage the ecumenical formation of all the members, aid the specific ecumenical formation of those who have particular offices, and act as advisors for ecu-menical affairs to the various general and local authorities of the institutes and societies, especially for initiating or carrying forward the activities described [in the Directory].7 This initiative will elicit considerable work on the part of major superiors, general councils, and chapters. The implications of this proposal will need to be developed in writing for the var-ious institutes. For this project the Directory will be useful. Elements of the Ecumenical Spirituality At the root of loyalty to Christ's will for the church and for church unity is the process of conversion, personal and institu-tional, s There are cultural dispositions that make the formation for such a conversion more or less easy. Of course, a prayerful open-ness to the Holy Spirit's action in the church, in other churches, and in fellow Christians is foundational. Because ecumenism with all its human and moral require-ments is rooted so profoundly in the mysterious working out of the providence of the Father, through the Son and the Spirit, it reaches into the depths of Christian spirituality. It calls for [a] "change of heart and holiness of life, along with public and private prayer for the unity of Christians. ¯ ." Those who identify deeply with Christ must identify with his prayer, and especially with his prayer for unity; . . ¯ those whose lives are marked by repentance will be espe-cially sensitive to the sinfulness of divisions and will pray for forgiveness and con, version. Those who seek holiness will be able to recognize its fruits also outside the visible boundaries of their own church.9 However, studies of seminary formation that were made by 852 Review for Religious diocesan ecumenical officers demonstrate that the most effective ecumenical formative experience is growing up in an interchurch family. Other elements that contributed most to the ecumenical dimension of priestly formation in the United States are (I) internship with an ecumenically effective priest, (2) ecumenically effective spiritual directors, (3) internships with an ecumenically informed non-Catholic minister, and (4) experiences in ecu-menically mixed clinical pastoral education programs. All of the seminaries report that the ecumenical dimension is fully inte-grated into the curriculum. The Directory will be helpful for eval-uating these claims. As sketched out by the council, the elements of Roman Catholic participation in the ecumenical movement include (1) the ecumenical dimension of spirituality, (2) theological dialogues leading to deeper understanding and toward full church unity, (3) collaboration in common witness and service, and (4) internal renewal of the members and structures of the church in response to ecumenical commitments. Attention needs to be given to each of these dimensions in initial and continuing formation and in the ongoing life of a religious community or parish. Ecumenical Spirituality for the Church An ecumenical spirituality is at the center of every aspect of the renewal of religious and lay life in the church. Without con-version to Christ's will for the church--in this case its visible unity and Roman Catholic contributions thereto--any theologi-cal, institutional, or educational progress towards full commu-nion will be superficial. If, on the other hand, Catholics are fully committed to all to whom they are bound by real, if imperfect, communion in baptism and to Christ's will for the visible unity of the church, then no setbacks on the road toward that unity will discourage them or make them complacent about divisions: The ecumenical movement is a grace of God, given by the Father in answer to the prayer of Jesus and the supplica-tion of the church inspired by the Holy Spirit. While it is carried out within the general mission of the church to unite humanity in Christ, its own specific field is the restoration of unity among Christians. Those who are baptized in the name of Christ are, by that very fact, called to commit themselves to the search for unity?° Noventber-Decevnber 1993 853 Coos ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious While individual religious and some communities have given considerable leadership to church reform in general and ecu-menism in particular, identity problems also affect the relationship of religious and the church. The Nygren/Ukeritis studies show that United States religious have "a stronger ecclesiology than Christology." ii This is not surprising, given the Roman Catholic The vast amount of ecumenical literature that has emerged in the last thi'rty years can help people renew their understandings of sacramental faith together. understanding of spirituality. I would understand this conclusion to mean that Christ is experienced more sacramentally, communally, and in mission than in indi-vidualistic or contemplative encounters. Such a focus on community can mean two things, as a resource for Catholic ecu-menical commitment. In one instance it can mean a more closed and sectarian approach, where primary religious identity and meaning come from the proximate religious community, its institution~ and ministry, rather than from Christ's wider will for the church and the world. Needless to say, this provides a weaker basis for ecu-menical conversion and formation. On the other hand,this ecclesiocen-tric spirituality could indicate that the experience of Christ is primarily in the call to community in the church, in the wider Christian society, and in the whole human family. At this stage in the reporting of the data, "ecclesiology" is yet to be defined. Be that as it may, the fully Catholic religious sees his or her sacramental life as yet defi-cient, short of the full communion of all Christians around the eucharistic table. The data from the same study shows religious to be "clear in their lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in. general.''12 These words, negative as they sound, may however be interpreted as a critical fidelity to the Holy Spirit's call to the church for its renewal. A higher ideal for the church, its renewal, its leadership, and its eventual unity may not be so much "lowered respect" as elevated expectation and longer-range vision. The movement toward Christ's will for a united church is a critical fidelity for all of the churches involved in the ecumenical movement. 854 Review for Religious The vast amount of ecumenical literature that has emerged in 'the last thirty years can help people renew their understandings of sacramental faith together. The agreements on "justification by grace through faith" with the Lutherans, for example, provide an important contribution to faith development, self-under-standing, and spiritual direction?3 These documents will not reach their full fruitfulness unless they transform the prayer life, litur-gical celebration, and community understanding of the churches that produced them: Catholics should also give value to certain elements and goods, sources of spiritual life, which are found in other churches and ecclesial communities, and which belong to the one church of Christ: Holy Scripture, the sacraments and other sacred actibns, faith, hope, charity and other gifts of the Spirit. These goods have borne fruit for example in the mystical tradition of the Christian East and the spiritual treasures of the monastic life, in the worship and piety of Anglicans, in the Evangelical prayer and the diverse forms of Protestant spirituality. This appreciation should not remain merely theoreti-cal; in suitable particular conditions, it should be completed by the practical knowledge of other traditions of spiritual-ity. Therefore, sharing prayer and participating in some form of public worship or in devotional acts of other Christians can have a formative value when in accord with existing directives.14 Religious have a unique role in translating these intellectual con-tributions into popular piety. Indeed, several ecumenical books on the Blessed Virgin have already provided an invaluable resource, as can be noted by the many languages into which they have been translated,is The lives of ecumenical figures from Luther to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., from John WeslEy to C.S. Lewis, have enr.iched the spiritual reading of a generation and made the divisions both more clear and more subject to the healing power of the Holy Spirit. The modern availability of the spiritual classics from the full range of ecumenical sources, Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, and Anglican has enabled all to be enriched. The living presence of fellow Christians with whom we share Christ--in a variety of traditions, but with a common will to be obedient to Christ's call to visible unity--is a rich complement to the liturgical, bio-graphical, and literary gifts we receive from one another. Like the charisms of the various religious communities and their November-December 1993 855 Gros ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Religlous founders, each church brings to a united church gifts we dare not lose as we reconcile our divisions. More particularly, giveR the legitimate variety of charisms and of the work of monasteries, institutes of consecrated life, and societies of apostolic life, it is very important that "all communities should participate in the life of the church. According to its individual character, each should make its own and foster in every possible way the enterprises and objectives of the church," including the "ecumenical field.''~6 In addition to personal and communal ecumenical spirituality, an "ecumenical hermeneutics of piety" will need to be developed as we move forward towards full communion?7 Indeed, as the "lineamenta" document for the 1994 synod notes, the baptismal consecration, beyond the narrow borders of the Roman Catholic Church, is the criterion for our communi-tarian outreach: As a reflection of church communion, the community is not a unit closed in.upon itself. Rather, it is open to the multiplicity of relationships with others which are provided by prayer, apostolic service, and collaboration with other members of the church, all of whom share in the same bap-tismal consecration and are called to holiness and mission in the variety and complementarity of each vocation. In its communitarian aspect, the role of the consecrated life is to offer to all members of the people of God the supreme value of the charity of Christ's disciples, lived in perseverance in fraternal communion.~8 Likewise, the agenda of the synod is very explicit about the spe.cificity of the spiritual calling: Those in the consecrated life have a special role in this ecu-menical task, in dialogue with the spiritual experiences akin to those of other churches and Christian confessions, in a spiritual ecumenism of conversion, prayer, dialogue and mutual edification, always in kedping with their proper iden-tity in the faith and their charism?9 Formation for an Ecumenical Spirituality While prayer and ecumenical openness are central to the ecu-menical vocation of Catholics, including the religious communi-ties, this spirituality also has specific intellectual content. It is a truism that one cannot be an effective ecumenist from any tradi- 856 Review for Religious tion without being firmly grounded in one's own faith and iden-tity. 2° However, 'the intellectual content of the ecumenical move-ment, including Roman Catholic principles and history within that movement, is an essential component for the formation of any ministry in the church, lay, clerical, or religious. In addition to the foundational principles enunciated in the conciliar and postconciliar docu-ments, 21 there has been a rich harvest of dialogue agreements.~ All of these texts are resources for spiritual and intellectual " renewal, requiring the same level of delib-erate systematic effort as did the early days of the biblical and liturgical renewal. Until leaders in our institutions, dioceses, and religious communities become well formed in these matters, their spirit will not be able to come alive in our Catholic life. Indeed, these dialogues and the researches and methodologies that stand behind them transform not only our appreciation of our own Catholic faith, but also of the changes necessary if our insti-tutions and practices are to be converted to reach the ideal we outline with our ecumenical partners. As was noted above, the curricula of seminaries have been transformed by the ecumenical movement. Those who receive their training in ecumenical con-sortia are probably the most sensitive to the ecumenical dimen-sion, but no one taking a Catholic scripture course can be ignorant of the full integration of Catholic and Protestant biblical schol-arship since the council. Similarly, any competent liturgy or sacramental-theology course will be informed by the vast literature that has come from the World Council's "Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry" processz3 over the last decade and from the bilateral agreements of a wide variety of churches. Soteriology, spiritual development, and eccle-siology are all informed by the Lutheran/Catholic work on grace cited above. Ecclesiology will include not only the principles of Catholic ecumenism, but also the work done in the World Council and in various dialogues on such topics as the local and the uni-versal church, religious liberty and proselytism, and papal pri- One cannot be an effective ecumenist from any tradition without being firmly grounded in one's own faith and identity. November-December 1993 857 Coos * The Ecumenical Vocation of Relig4ous macy and infallibility. The Directory gives helpful detail for plan-ning both clerical and nonclerical religious formation.24 For the first time a section in this Directory sets the stage for the work of ecumenical formation among religious: While the concern for restoring Christian unity involves the whole church, clergy and laity alike, relig

Issue 51.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1992. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review fl)r Religious (ISSN 0034-630X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535 3048. Manuscripts, books fi)r reviexv, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious. 3601 l,indellBoulevard. St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" departmeut: Elizabeth McDonough ()P ¯ 5001 Eastcrn Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, I).C. 20017. P()S'I'M~XSTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid a~ S~. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBS(~RIPTI()N RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. ()he-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover fl~r subscription infl~rmation and mailing costs. ©1992 Revieu for Religious review fre° [gii ous Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor . Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Michael G. Harter sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden $SND Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY / FEBRUARY 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 18 24 church and ministry Ecclesial Burnout: Old Demon, New Form Richard Sparks CSP suggests some remedies for overcoming a new strain of burnout which tends to afflict church ministers. Vincent Pallotti vs. Polarization Erik Riechers SAC shares some practical steps suggested by Vincent Pallotti for spiritual regeneration in a polarized church. The Ecumenical Kernel Dennis Billy CSSR explains how church unity involves a process of committed encounter between religious traditions whose very existence implies a relationship of concrete mutual dependence. 34 46 56 direction and discernment Elements and Dynamics of a Spiritual-Direction Practicum James Keegan SJ presents a successful way of putting together a spiritual-direction practicum and the personal and clinical issues involved. On Becoming a Discerning Person Charles Reutemann FSC describes in practical terms the meaning of spiritual direction, the person of the director, and the process of the direction session. Discernment and Decision Making Brian O'Leary SJ outlines elements for a pedagogy of discernment so necessary for our contemporary human and Christian situations. 2 Revie~ for Religious religious life 64 Making Sense of a Revolution Se~in Sammon FMS assesses the present state of religious life and sets an agenda for the process of renewal. 78 The Past Is Prologue Elizabeth McDonough OP identifies three interrelated phenomena which have significant influence on the direction of religious life. 98 An Experiment in Hope Mary Carty CND and MaryJo Leddy NDS report on a carefully planned intercongregational exploration in revitalizing religious life. 109 community and missien Internationality--At What Price? Janet Malone CND challenges any community which identifies itself as international to realize the concrete demands made on every aspect of their life together. 118 The Perils of Polarity Julia Upton RSM focuses upon the common roots from which both monastic and apostolic religious life take their growth. 134 Evangelizing Community William F. Hogan CSC suggests that religious who share faith in community are the best evangelizers. 140 4 144 149 Vocation as a Journey Brother Andrew shares a personal reflection on vocation as a crucifying walk in intimate union with Jesus. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Clerical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1992 3 prisms As you page through this issue, you cannot help but notice the new appearance of Review for Religious. The development of this new look involved the staff, the members of the advisory board, and the Jesuit design group called Studio J in a critical assessment of everything from the important areas of content and edi-torial policies to the nitpicking aspects of the letterspac-ing of our new typeface. Our entire effort was to launch into our second half century of publication by enhancing our traditionally fine content and presenting it in a way that is truly "reader friendly." When Review for Religious began to be published in 1942, its very title gave evidence of its intended audi-ence- women and men consecrated in a special lifeform in the Catholic Church commonly called religious life. Yet even the first editors encouraged diocesan priests to use the journal articles as helps both for growing in their spir-ituality and ministry and for appreciating the various reli-gious- life traditions. Early on, too, lay women and men, especially those identified with third-order and sodality movements, were regular subscribers. With the burgeoning of lay ministries after Vatican II, there have been a growing number of lay readers, inter-ested particularly in developing their prayer life, under-standing their own roles as ministers of Christ, and even searching for better community models for family and parish, inspired by the internal efforts of religious com-munities. Our journal's contributors, too, illustrate the wide range of our readership--women, men, lay, religious, priests, even a bishop now and then. The question arose: Should the very name Review for Religious be changed to reflect its wider audience? 4 Review for Religious After much discussion we agreed that the religious-life empha-sis retains its central place because it focuses so well the rich spir-ituality traditions within the church. A secondary title, now evident on our cover, clearly highlights this aspect. But the pur-pose of Review for Religious remains just as current and necessary after fifty years: a forum for shared reflection on the lived expe-rience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spiritu-ality- Augustinian, Benedictine, Dominican, Carmelite, Ignatian, Franciscan, Salesian, and many others--support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. For readers coming from whatever spiritual tradition, the articles in the journal are meant to be infor-mative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. The journal's look, then, is meant to reinforce its purpose. While you may miss the easily scanned backcover table of con-tents, we hope that you will find our Contents pages more infor-mative by their brief indication of an article's theme and by the grouping of various articles under sectional titles. The new sec-tional titles will keep changing from issue to issue, depending on the relationships among articles published in any one issue. Both the variety of sections and the variety of articles within a section are indicative of the vision and purpose of Review for Religious. In its 1942 beginnings this journal provided a com-munication forum which was almost nonexistent among various traditions represented by religious orders. Still today the mix of articles contributes to the ongoing understandings, critiques, and movements in our religious-life heritages so that we find new insight, expand our horizons, and collaborate more effectively for the good of our church life. I find a growing tendency among church people in the United States to read only the articles or books which reinforce their own views and to ignore or condemn out of hand an alternative or opposing approach. As an editor I find myself seldom (if ever) in total agreement with any one article--even in this iournal. For the healthiness of our life in Christ, we all need to appreciate and evaluate differences, changes, and developments in and among the various traditions which, contribute to the present makeup of the church. The articles in this iournal are like prisms which sub-tly nuance light into colorful and unexpected patterns. For exam-ple, some articles present contemporary ways of understanding our traditions; others probe new community forms, prayer prac- January-February 1992 5 Prisms tices, and models of ministering. You as reader may be inspired, surprised, or even annoyed by a particular theme or approach. For me the image of a prism suggests an application of the ministerial wisdom of St. Ignatius Loyola written at a time of church his-tory rife with excommunications and denunciations. Ignatius says: it should be presupposed that every good Christian ought to be more eager to put a good interpretation on a neighbor's statement than to condemn it. Further, if one cannot inter-pret it favorably, one should ask how the other means it. If that meaning is wrong, one should correct the person with love; and if this is not enough, one should search out every appropriate means through which, by understanding the statement in a good way, it may be saved. Sp Ex 22 (Ganss's translation) As the task of dialogue in the church takes on even greater importance, we want Review for Religious to remain a valued resource for people serious about their spiritual growth, for those involved in ministries, for members of religious congregations, and for spiritual directors and those seeking guidance. Review for Religious is privileged to play its role in that dialogue now as it has since its beginnings. Do let us know whether you find our newly designed journal "reader friendly." David L. Fleming sJ 6 Review for Relig4ous RICHARD C. SPARKS Ecclesial Burnout Old Demon, New Form cal, emotional, intellectual, social, and even spiritual energy--is reappearing among pastoral team members with alarming frequency. In those heady years immedi-ately following Vatican II, there appeared a strain of this self-induced dysfunction among zealous priests, sisters, brothers, and lay ministers who too literally tried to fol-low Paul's injunction "to be all things to all people." In their well-intentioned attempts to "be there" for the old and the young, the churched and the unchurched, parish-ioners and strangers alike, many in pastoral ministry "burned out." But it is not this "workaholic burnout''1 that I intend to discuss--though it still exists. I intend to discuss what I call ecclesial burnout. Most of us professed,, ordained, or hired in the last ten to fifteen years were schooled in a revised, more col-laborative model of ministry. This model is marked by job descriptions, staff meetings, attempts at collegial dia-logue, claiming one's personal needs and space, in short, Richard C. Sparks CSP is an editor at Paulist Press. He holds a doctorate in moral theology from Catholic University, with a specialty in biomedical ethics. He serves as an ethics consultant for several healthcare facilities and regularly offers professional and pastoral workshops on bioethics, sexuality, and moral deci-sion making. His address: Mount Paul Novitiate; Ridge Road; Oak Ridge, New Jersey 07438. church and ministry January-February 1992 7 a greater appreciation for the need of each minister to set limits and to nurture both professional and personal relationships. Ideally this leads to happier, healthier pastoral ministers, men and women who have found a better balance of work, play, prayer, exercise, rest, good nutrition habits, and so on. However, as most practitioners will admit, the team model in its all-too-human incarnations is no panacea. The lived experience of rule by com-mittee and collegial discernment does not always match the ideal. If the workshops I have given in various pastoral settings around the country are any indication, there is a new strain of ministerial burnout. It began in the early 1980s and seems to be immune to the simple correctives of prioritizing one's schedule, keeping in touch with friends, and religiously taking one's day off. The power of this ecclesial burnout to corrupt and to debil-itate formerly effective pastoral ministers (lay, clergy, and reli-gious alike) comes not from an overzealous commitment to work nor from an inflated sense of Lone Ranger ministry. Rather, I think, it is rooted in an erroneous, or at least inadequate, sense of church (that is, one's assumed ecclesiology). For the last five years I have been battling a mild-to-moderate case of it myself and am now slowly on the road to recovery. I feel it, I see it, others confide it, newcomers discern it, col-leagues transfer or leave church ministry altogether because of it--ecclesial burnout. No doubt much of it parallels other forms of psychological burnout. It certainly seems to fall within psy-chiatrist Herbert Freudenberger's classic definition: % state of fatigue or frustration brought about by devotion to a cause, way of life, or relationship that failed to produce the expected reward.''2 The symptoms are the same--long-term sullenness, a cynical edge, an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, dissipated energy, forgetfulness, and depression (clinical or the everyday variety). People who suffer from ecclesial burnout frequently cite the cases of Charles Curran and Archbishop Hunthausen or the recent Vatican treatment of Rembert Weakland as precipitating their low mood. The suppression of certain catechisms, the removal of longstanding imprimaturs from books, the influence of CUF (Catholics United for the Faith) in Vatican curial circles, and the decidedly juridical tone of some CDF (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith) documents contribute to a certain fear that "the party's over." For some, particular diocesan, chancery, or intracommunity ev~counters contribute to a general feeling of 8 Review for Religious malaise. It might sound like a simple case of the liberals' lament, revisionist Catholics being disheartened by what some see as a mid-course conservative correction following a quarter century of Vatican II experimentation.3 But many who placed great hopes in the church after Vatican II increasingly feel that aggiornamento (renewal) may be short-lived, that this era of church renewal may be the aberration and not the norm, and that we may soon be back to church history's "business as usual"--politics, legalism, inquisitions, and all. Those who suffer workaholic burnout are depressed that they personally did not measure up, could not be all things to all people, fell short of some impossible agapeic ideal. By contrast, among those who suffer ecclesial burnout, there is less a question of antipathy about personal imperfections and more of a sense of dis-illusionment with the church and its abil-ity to really be "the kingdom come." I hear story after story of frustration, that no-win Ecclesial burnout does not come from an overzealous commitment to work rlor from an inflated sense of Lone Ranger ministry. feeling of being the person caught in the middle--between the Vatican and people in the pew, between liberals and conserva-tives, between pro-school and pro-CCD proponents, between the "townies" and the university students, between right-to-lifers and everybody else, between the diocese (or one's generalate) and the parish, between Catholics and the wider society, between a pas-tor and other team or council members. Many feel drained, impo-tent, frustrated in their attempts to mediate, to get the church's act together, whether locally or in some larger arena of the church universal. While there are many contributing factors to this experience, I am convinced that one help toward navigating the shoals suc-cessfully is for each of us to reexamine our own ecclesial presup-positions and expectations. The insights that follow may be self-evident to some, but for me they have been eye-openers, a tremendous help on the road to recovery and reinvigoration. Much literature has been written expounding the theory that the dominant image of church in the decades, even centuries, pre-ceding Vatican II was the institutional model. In his often quoted January-February 1992 9 ~÷~s ¯ Ecclesial Burnout Models of the Church, Avery Dulles noted in 1974 that, while all five models--hierarchical institution, mystical communion, sacrament of Christ, herald of God's word, and servant of secular society-- coexist in the church, during any given era one or another tends to dominate.4 In the two major Vatican II documents on the church, as well as in the Final Report of the Synod of 1985, one can find all five models vying for central place,s Despite several decades of the-ologizing and deferential homiletic bows to the notions of church as people of God, mystical body, sacrament of Christ's ongoing presence, and herald of Gospel justice, it is my contention that our pastoral efforts after Vatican II expressed, for the most part, the same model fostered earlier, namely, the institutional model. Sure, we were going to do it better: more effective liturgy in the ver-nacular; more participatory parish, diocesan, and community gov-ernance; more developmental, story-laden religious education; more process-oriented evangelization (RCIA); more experiential approaches to reconciliation; and more social-justice-oriented ecumenism. But we were still about the task of running an insti-tution, making our little corner of the vineyard the best-struc-tured parish, Newman Center, diocesan office, or apostolate around. It seems to me that many of us made a subtle shift or trans-ference. After some initial flirtations with personal workaholism and its consequent form of burnout, we no longer expected our-selves to be supermen or superwomen, serving selflessly twenty-four hours a day, in season and out. But at the same time we did not reject the drive for perfectionism altogether. Rather, we trans-ferred it to our rejuvenated image of the church, expecting our post-Vatican II ecclesial structures to be or to become what we individually could not achieve. The church would or should become wholly Spirit-filled, renewed at all levels, from the Vatican curia, through the USCC, chancery, and intracommunity offices, right down to our own parish or center in Name-Your-City, USA (or Canada). If we all worked hard enough, whether as Lone Rangers or as collaborative partners, we could "pull this Vatican II thing off," making the Roman Catholic Church what some supposed it was intended to be, the kingdom of God incarnate on earth . . . as it is in heaven. "Oops," as one of my Catholic U. professors would have screamed, "you collapsed your eschaton." In such hopeful 10 Review for Religious expectation there seems to be no room for human sinfulness and finitude, too little room for well-intentioned visionaries, reform-ers, and sincere counterreformers to make mistakes. If we really can successfully create the reign of God on earth, then who needs redemption? We could cancel Christ's second coming. There would be no need for his break-through return at the end of time. In our newfound Camelot-like enthusiasm, I fear that we plotted a course destined to dis-appoint. Ask those priests, religious, and lay ministers who opted to leave. Ask those who had physical or emotional breakdowns. Ask those who are now recovering alcoholics, fooda-holics, adult children of alcoholics, or victims of other addictions and dysfunctions. Ask those who joined a religious order or diocese, only to be disillusioned when real life in community did not match vocation brochures or one's own idealistic expectations. Some of them are still searching for the diocesan, religious-order, or denominational "promised land." For the most part we seem to have faced the fact that none of us individually is Jesus Christ (and that even he faced his own doubts, fears, and temptations). By acknowledging that worka-holic perfectionism is wrong, some of us have conquered the demon of "works righteousness," allowing God's tender mercies to bathe us and to begin to heal our brokenness and wounds. Workaholic burnout seems to be waning, at least in the Catholic community.6 However, I do not think we have made great strides in grant-ing a similar benefit of the doubt and benevolent forgiveness to the church and its leaders (including ourselves) for not measuring up, for not ushering in the fullness of the kingdom of God. Hans Kiing, echoing the pioneering ecclesiology of Yves Congar, con-tinues to point out that the church is sinful as well as graced.7 Martin Luther, credited with coining the adage simuljustus etpec-cator, would hardly be surprised to hear that twentieth-century Roman Catholics are having trouble accepting that their church not only was, but is, and always will be sinful, in need of God's abiding assistance, patience, redemption, and frequent forgive-ness. If we really can successfully create the reign of God on earth, then who needs redemption ? January-February 1992 11 Sparks ¯ Ecclesia~Burnout Thus, the warning sign of ecclesial burnout is the sadness, bordering on depression, that has deeply affected many idealistic pastoral ministers upon their discovering that the church is not, and likely never will be, synonymous with the kingdom of God. But does not church teaching say that they are supposed to be one and the same, that the church (especially in its Roman Catholic incarnation) equals the kingdom of God? No, the bish-ops and theologians gathered at Vatican II rejected such a notion in an earlier draft for Lumen Gentium, in which the church in its fullest sense (that is, God's reign or kingdom) was to be equated with the Roman Catholic Church. In its place, the church's official magisters declared that the "church, established and ordained as a society in this world, sub-sists in the Catholic Church''8 (emphasis mine). Despite arguments to the contrary by some dissident conservatives, most ecclesiolo-gists take this to mean that, while the Roman Catholic Church manifests to some degree Christ's cosmic presence, it is not the sum and substance of church nor of the kingdom of God in their fullness. The visible church, at any point in its history, is never a spotless manifestation of the "mystical body," church in the ideal. Lumen Gentium goes on to propose that all Christians, the chil-dren of Israel, Islamic believers, other monotheists, as well as all who seek life's source and meaning with sincere hearts are some-how "related to the People of God," kin in some concentric sense in this family called church.9 The church then, in its most cosmic and echatological sense, is not synonymous with any denomination, though some churches--more than others, and in some historical eras more than others--better embody the call to be communion, sacra-ment, herald, servant, and institution. For those of us tempted to shrink the meaning of church to the institutional denomination or subset in which we have been professed, hired, or ordained, it is well to keep reminding ourselves that the kingdom to come, on earth and hereafter, is bigger. You might be tempted at this point to remark, "What you're saying is fine, but it doesn't apply to me. I already learned in ecclesiology class that the church is the imperfect pilgrim people of God and that it in some sense includes a wide variety of ecu-menically related brothers and sisters." My response is yes and no. I think most of us comprehend this broader ecclesial vision academically (in our heads) and even present it fairly effectively 12 Review for Religious in inquiry or RCIA programs. But I am not so convinced that we have let that broader vision of church, that benefit of the doubt about what can and cannot be accomplished in our lifetime, sink down into our souls, our intuitions, our feelings, our expectations about life as pastoral ministers in the real church of the 1980s and 1990s. I suggest that many of us could benefit from prayerful, per-sonal, and communal reflection on and attempts to incarnate a broader vision. The "kingdom of God" is not an institution, but a designation for any and all people of goodwill who are about God's business. Whether one views this in the language of Rahner's "Anonymous Christian" or in any of a number of more traditional categories (for example, mystical body, invincible ignorance), the community of believers, those who will share in the fullness of redemption, is not coterminous with card-carrying Roman Catholics or even avowed Christians more broadly considered.1° If I measure the coming of the kingdom with myopic vision, focused solely on institutional success or the extent to which my ministerial locus is perfectly fruitful and personally satisfying, I am destined to be disappointed--by my own impoverished "institu-tional" ecclesiology and by a graced but sinful church that always falls short of the ideal. In such a way, I think, many professional Catholic ministers (lay, religious, and clergy alike) are spinning their wheels, burning up psychic energy on form and parochial structures, not Gospel substance. Either we invest too much time and talent trying to create the perfect institutional program, or else we spend time bemoaning the fact that many of our best-laid parochial plans come to naught or go awry. In the process, frus-trations mount, leading to personal and ministerial dissatisfac-tion, depression, departures, and so on. Voile, ecclesial burnout, or maybe I should say burnout induced by unrealistic ecclesio-logical expectations. It seems to me that any proposal for recovery from this form of burnout entails an attitudinal shift. We can change our atti-tude in either of two ways. First, we can expand our definition of church in the light of Lumen Gentium, allowing that no denom-ination or institution can or will incarnate it fully. It takes a lot of The warning sign of ecclesial burnout is sadness, bordering on depression. January-February 1992 13 Sparks ¯ Ecclesial Burnout self-reminding to allow this ecclesiology to sink in, to become our true modus vivendi. We need to reconceive ourselves as min-isters not solely of the Vatican-based Roman Catholic denomi-nation, nor even of the Christian tradition explicitly professed, but of the elusive, ever evolving church of Pentecost, mindful that the fruit of our labor, though real, will be limited at best. Our whole identity as a church employee or minister ought not to be caught up in structural successes and programmatic gains. This broader view of church, if taken to heart, can free us to relish grace incarnate wherever we find it, being less obsessed with insti-tutional achievements and shortcomings. The second change of attitude, in some ways a semantic vari-ation on the first, involves constricting our definition of church, letting it be a referent for various institutional efforts to incarnate faithful and Christ-like living, while conceiving of our ministry more broadly, focused on the wider kingdom of God. Thus we see ourselves less as minions of the institutional church (though not denying our sacramental role and ecclesial responsibilities) and more as ministers or facilitators of the kingdom, God's reign in time and space in all its manifestations. As Patrick Brennan phrases it in his recent best-seller Re-Imagining the Parish: Is the church an end in itself?. No! In this more traditional view of church, the church as movement, as people in a sacred relational bond of faith, exists as servant and instru-ment of something larger, more important than itself--that is, the reign or kingdom of God.11 The kingdom comes in myriad ways, some explicitly religious, many only implicitly so. We can and do find God incarnate in Paschal Triduum liturgies as well as in rather routine daily Masses; in powerful sacramental moments as in exquisite sunsets or a deer crossing the road at some country retreat; in the warmth of old friends, comfortable clothes, and mellow music as well as in the discovery of new relationships and the unexplored terrain of new ideas; in the gathering of colleagues and friends for professions, ordinations, anniversaries, and even funerals; and in vacation times far away from community members and parish life. Wherever there is love, life, and hope (that is, resurrection) in the face of life's limits, including death, we who are Christian ministers should point and say, "There is God's kingdom at hand." When those life-giving moments are in church (liturgy, Scripture, religious education, a retreat weekend, social-justice ministry), 14 Review for Religious let us sing a full-throated alleluia. But when such moments are part of church in its more cosmic sense or beyond the church in a kingdom-coming sense (symphony orchestras, art, nature, Windham Hill albums, even in Leo Buscaglia tapes and some New Age con-cepts), there too we should point to God's incarnate grace and voice praise. Over a decade ago I heard Richard McBrien use the parable of the ten lepers (Lk 17:11-19) as a type for this broader concept of church vis-h-vis the kingdom of God. He noted that all ten lepers were made clean, that is, all ten were redeemed. All ten were made ready for the heavenly banquet. The tenth leper, the one who realized what had been done to and for him, returned to give thanks, to praise God, and to be a herald of this good news. That tenth leper, McBrien suggested, is the church in its institutional manifesta- The community of believers, those who will share in the fullness of redemption, is not coterminous with card-carrying Roman Catholics. tions. We avowed Christians realize God's mighty and merciful deeds. We give thanks (Eucharist) not only in our own name, but in behalf of all creation. We praise God not only for our own lot in life, but also for the blessings bestowed on all of creation and especially on the human family. We strive to live, to speak about, and to incarnate the good news of God's benevolent creation and offer of redemption in every time and place. But it is crucial to remember that the healing of the ten (that is, redemption of the whole) is not primarily dependent on our success. God's healing Spirit blows where it will. Christ's invitation, redemption, and healing touch are not limited by our personal or institutional efforts. In this motif, the kingdom of God is bigger than the church which participates in it and attempts, more and less suc-cessfully, to proclaim it. Whether one equates the kingdom of God with "the church" in its ideal form and uses the same word "church" for those graced but imperfect institutional efforts, or whether one conceives of the kingdom of God as a fuller reality and all institutional churches as more and less successful attempts to embody kingdom or Gospel values, the result seems to be the same. We approach our institutional church--with its papacy, curia, national conferences, January-February 1992 15 generalates, dioceses, parishes, centers, and committee struc-tures- with more realistic and modest expectations. Sin abounds, but grace abounds more. Successes mount up, but so do failures. We have peaks and valleys in our efforts to "do ministry," whether as rugged individuals or as team players. For those who are not intimately bound up with the institu-tional church, these reflections may seem self-evident. But for those of us so imbued with an institutional sense of church, pro-grammed by our own socioethnic heritages and an underlying, intuited, and almost infused Roman Catholic ethos, it may be lib-erating to be confronted by this challenge to broaden our hori-zons, to stretch either our image of church or our sense of ministry to be more kingdom-oriented, less ecclesially confined. As one minister phrased it, "only recently have I been able to proclaim honestly that I cannot save myself. My salvation [and the church's] is only in the gift of God's grace through Christ.''Jz Keep your chin up, your chest out, your personal and com-munal relationships nurtured, your prayer life deepened, and, for God's sake and your own, do not lose your sense of humor. Do not let worries and disappointments about church or parish or com-munity shortcomings dampen your hope. You are not perfect, we are not perfect, they are not perfect--and never will be. So lighten up. Take care of yourself physically, emotionally, intellectually, socially, and spiritually. No use getting "burned out" by unful-filled and unrealistic expectations, personally or ecclesially. "Do not collapse your eschaton." Notes I See, for example, Jerry Edelwich and Archie Brodsky, Burn-Out: Stages of Disillusionment in the Helping Professions (New York: Human Sciences Press, 1980). Recent theological studies into the meaning of genuine Christian love suggest that agape alone, wholly other-centered love, is not only a human impossibility, but most likely a mythical unreality. Not even God, despite treatises to the contrary, is wholly other-centered, sola agape. In the Trinity there seems to be some measure of philia, mutual love one for another, within the Godhead, as well as some degree of eros, personal satisfaction in eternal life and in relationship among each of the divine Persons. Add God's involvement with and seeming delight in creation and we profess a God who is love in all its dimensions--selfless, mutual, and personally fulfilling. The varied literature on ministerial burnout includes a classic text and 16 Review for Religious a new volume: John Sanford, Ministry Burnout (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1982); Robert R. Lutz and Bruce T. Taylor (eds.), Surviving in Ministry (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990). 2 Herbert J. Freudenberger, Burnout: The High Cost of High Achievement (Garden City: Anchor Press/Doubleday, 1980), p. 13. 3 Bernard Hiiring sadly labels this the curial process of "restoration." For further analysis of these trends and H~ring's insights, see Bernard H~iring, "The Role of the Catholic Moral Theologian," in Charles E. Curran (ed.), Moral Theology: Challenges for the Future (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990), pp. 32-47; "A Letter to the Pope," Tablet (30 June 1990); "The Church I Want," Tablet (28 July 1990); "Life in the Spirit," Tablet (4 August 1990). 4Avery Dulles SJ, Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday, 1974); A Church to Believe In (New York: Crossroad, 1982). s Vatican II, Lumen Gentium (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church); Gaudium et Spes (Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World). Synod of Bishops, "The Final Report," Origins 15 (19 December 1985): 444-450. The ecclesiology in each of these is discussed in Avery Dulles SJ, '% Half Century of Ecclesiology," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 419-442. 6 The 1990 Lutz/Taylor anthology, Surviving in Ministry (note 1 above), was written primarily for a Protestant audience, indicating that what I have called "workaholic burnout" is a current issue for many mainline Protestant ministers. The book, however, has application for religious, clergy, and especially lay ministers in the Catholic Church, people striving to balance ministerial work with a reasonable home and social life. 7 Dulles, "A Half Century of Ecclesiology," 423-425, 433-434; see also Hans Kiing, Reforming the Church Today: Keeping Hope Alive (New York: Crossroad, 1990). ~ Vatican II, Lumen Gentium (Dogmatic Constinltion on the Church), no. 8. 9Ibid, nos. 14-17. 10 Some more conservative readers might think that I am flirting with heresy. After all, there is an ancient patristic maxim that "outside the church there is no salvation." Seniors and church-history buffs may remember that Boston's Father Leonard Feeney tested the Catholic Church's interpretation of this in the 1940s by asserting that outside the Roman Catholic Church no one could be saved. He suffered excommunication for this ahistorical denominational overreaching of the definition of church, receiving reconciliation only after a nuanced recantation in later life. ** Patrick J. Brennan, Re-Imagining the Parish (New York: Crossroad, 1989), p. 12. 12 W. Benjamin Pratt, "Burnout: A Spiritual Pilgrimage," in Lutz/Taylor, Surviving in Ministry, p. 108. January-February 1992 17 ERIK RIECHERS Vincent Pallotti vs. Polarization o say that we live in a polarized church is to state the painfully obvious. The church is full of some very angry people, and this anger is dividing it into many factions. All around us we find examples of the growing polarization which is sepa-rating brothers and sisters in the Christian community. In our parishes we find different groups struggling for control over the direction of the community. In the dioceses different interest groups push their agenda without concern for the legitimate con-cerns and problems of segments of the local church. On the national and international levels, we can find the same struggle among opposing factions with only an increase in the amount of power and control that is being fought over. To be brief, polar-ization based on anger is a horrible and prevalent reality in our church. We are rapidly becoming people who fight for our ideo-logical causes and, therefore, are filled with an ideological anger towards those who disagree with us. Thus, liberation theologians are angry with classical theologians, classical theologians are angry with conservatives, conservatives are angry with progressives, the youth with the older generation, the laity with the clergy, and the clergy are angry and suspicious of the laity. Finally, there are those who are angry at everybody in the church. Our polarization often comes from anger that stems from ideology and not faith or theology. Ideological anger is based on real pain, be it mental, spiritual, or emotional. But it is an anger justified on ideological grounds. This anger feeds on itself, refuses to seek healing and reconciliation. It enjoys perpetuating itself, Erik Riechers SAC wrote "Love and Apostolate" for our November/ December 1988 issue. His address is 321 90th Avenue S.E.; Calgary, Alberta; Canada T2J 0A1. 18 Review for Religious enjoys no reflective moment. Instead, the knee-jerk reaction becomes the norm of response. Gradually our perception of the issue is clouded, and we replace individuals with neat stereotypes. Finally, we justify our anger by hiding it behind our "cause" and then declaring it righteous, when in fact, by this time, it is often pure hatred based on a gut reaction. Such a polarization, how-ever, has a price tag, and an expensive one at that. The first victim of polarization in the church is our sense of humor. When we are ideologically angry, we are no longer able to laugh at ourselves or with one another. The same humor which used to ease the tensions of our disagreements now adds to them. The foibles and weaknesses that once were laughed at because of their absurdity are no longer funny, for adherents of ideology tend to make no distinction between the allegiance they demand for their cause and that which they claim for themselves. This does not make for easy self-critical observation which is the root of humor. The seriousness which was once preserved for the issue itself is now extended to the proponents, so that not just the cause is on the line, but their very persons are at stake. Honesty is the second victim of polarization based on ideo-logical anger. As our anger grows, our honesty begins to shrivel. The real issues are soon forgotten and fall by the wayside. Personal animosities enter the arena once reserved for the matter at hand, and the issue has become a chance for us to vent our spleens. There is a willingness to see every form of evil in the others, but to ignore or justify the same attributes in ourselves. The best example is the parishioner who bemoans the stubborn-ness of another person in the parish, but describes his or her own intransigence as tenacity in the cause of justice. Sullenly we refuse to acknowledge even the smallest positive sign in the others, yet deem ourselves to be the last bastion of virtue and truth. Here the truth dies an ignominious death. Therefore, it becomes pos-sible for people in the parish to complain that their fellow parish-ioners do not listen to the authority of the pastor, but then refuse to follow the same authority when they themselves disagree with it. On the national church scene, there are some who decry the heavy-handed authority of those in positions of power, yet actu-ally advocate the same methods to further their own cause. In each case, the people who are caught up in the throes of ideo-logical anger have lost the ability to see and recognize the truth. But those who cannot recognize the truth cannot recognize Christ, ~anuary-February 1992 19 Riecbers ¯ Pallotti vs. Polarization the Truth. As a consequence it becomes easy enough to resort to stubbornness and call it fidelity, to savagely attack the integrity of another and call it defending the faith, or to speak with vitriolic cruelty and then label it righteous indignation. Charity is the final victim of our polarization; especially here we pay a heavy price. This is the devastating moment in which brothers and sisters refuse each other table fellowship. Parishioners will not associate with one another, and parish coun-cils replace dialogue with diatribe. Every motive is impugned as we expect the others to be as rotten and nasty as we have made them out to be. No longer is there a willingness to grant the ben-efit of the doubt or to assume the best. Distrust becomes the rule as the grip of our anger slowly squeezes our hearts dry. Yet the bleakness of the picture I have drawn is not a neces-sity and can be overcome. The dreariness of polarization can be lightened with the brilliance of the spiritual life. The polariza-tion of the church we live in can be seen as the result of our sin-ful brokenness, but it can also be seen as a call to a new fidelity. It is our spiritual lives which are suffering most from the atmo-sphere of poisoned debate and mistrust. Recognizing that we have strayed from the path of Jesus Christ, we always have the oppor-tunity to respond anew to the call of the Lord. There are cer-tainly many ways of achieving this, but I would like to suggest the way of a very special man, St. Vincent Pallotti (1795-1850). A man of incredible spiritual stature, he is to this day an effective and powerful teacher of the spiritual life for thousands of members of the Union of the Catholic Apostolate. It is my firm conviction that he has a great deal to offer all of us in the polarized church and that he can point out to us a way of spiritual regeneration. Pallotti's first response to a polarized church is to emphasize the need of putting our focus on God. He is a staunch proponent of such a focus. Repeatedly he calls upon his listeners to channel their energy and effort into God. In one of his most famous prayers, he lists the many things in life that people pursue, but then admonishes us to seek God alone. "Not the intellect, but God. Not the will, but God. Not the heart, but God . Not food and drink, but God .Not worldly goods, but God .God in all and forever." In another passage he writes, "I want nothing but God: nothing, nothing." It is in this God-centeredness that Pallotti offers us an antidote for the self-centeredness which is at the root of all our polarization. When we focus on God and the 20 Review for Religious magnificent work of redemption wrought for our sake, we see our causes and our self-interest for what they truly are: petty and insignificant. The God-centeredness of Pallotti would root us again in the essential mission of Christ and wean us from the pre-occupation with our own agenda. The more we fill our lives with God alone, the less room is left for our own narrow and selfish ideological causes. Pallotti goes on to offer us a second response to polarization in the church by emphasizing the Pauline challenge to become all things to all people. If in the first instance Pallotti prays for a focused heart, in the sec-ond he prays for a responsive heart. As Father Francesco Amoroso, a leading Pallotti scholar, points out, the closer Pallotti draws to God, the closer he draws to his creatures and the greater is his yearning to become responsive to the infinite love to which he has drawn close. "I want to help the poor as well as I can . I want to become food and drink and clothing in order to alleviate their need. I want to be transformed into light for the blind, hearing for the deaf, and health for the sick." In these touching words of prayer, Pallotti shows us the result of a heart aimed at responding to the need of our brothers and sisters, namely, a shattering of the bondage to egotistical and ideological anger. For Pallotti it is per-fectly clear that a heart made responsive by God's infinite love destroys polarization because it is more concerned with the need of the other than with the desire to be successful or right. Pallotti was a man who cherished the communion of the church. He saw our communion as something of an essentially sacred nature because it is rooted in love and built upon that love. Pallotti describes love as the substantial constituent of the church, without which all things decline. Thus, Pallotti challenges us to heed the call to live as church. The church is a communion of brothers and sisters united by their shared life with God and one another in the power of baptism. This shared existence is nour-ished by their participation in the one bread and one cup offered on the one altar of the Lord. They share a common calling in Christ and are led by the same word which calls them to com-munion and demands of them a common sharing in the fate and destiny of one another and of Christ. In God-centeredness Pallotti offers us an antidote for self-centeredness. ~anuary-February 1992 21 Riecbers ¯ Pallotti vs. Polarization We seem to have forgotten that there is no opposition party in the church. Yet we are rapidly losing this understanding of ourselves as church, a loss Pallotti considered intolerable. Instead, we have replaced the image of church as communion with the image of church as parliament. In parliament many parties fight for power, each interested in furthering its cause and hindering the policies of the other parties. Nothing binds individuals together save the desire to be the party in power. In the search for power and the realization of their cause, they constantly belittle, demean, and devalue the efforts and ideas of those they oppose. Above all, a par-liament does not have love as its substantial constituent. Sometimes we seem to have forgotten that there is rio opposition party in the church. We all belong to the community, we are all moving in the same direction. There are no enemies to beat off, only brothers and sisters we must struggle to understand. We belong to the same family, even when we are of dif-fering mind-set. Naturally, this does not deny the possibility of disagreement and differing opinions. Yet, when we disagree or differ, it is as parts of one community that we do so. The force of our differences must be balanced by the strength of our love for one another as brothers and sisters. If getting our own way, winning the argument, or being proven correct becomes more important than preserving our bond of love as community, then we no longer heed the call of Christ. Pallotti was a man of great humility, always struggling to rec-ognize the reality of his life as a sinner who was redeemed by infinite love. This too is part of Pallotti's challenge to us today: to heed the call to live in humility and reconciliation. Humility means that we are rooted in reality, that we perceive reality as it is and not as we would have it. Upon recognizing our reality we abandon exaggerated self-assertion, give up self-righteousness, allow the truth of our sinfulness to stand before our eyes, and we rid ourselves of the illusions of our grandeur, power, and perfec-tion. Only in humility do we find the ability to serve God and neighbor because it is in humility that we see them both as they truly are. Reconciliation becomes possible because we recognize both grace and sin in ourselves and in others. We can be a peo-ple that lives mutual complementarity in the Body of Christ 22 Review for Religious because with the clarity of humility we can acknowledge the charisms in the other members of the church, even if they should not agree with us in every question. Like Pallotti, we are in good shape when despite our differences we realize that we would be impoverished without the gifts and talents of the others. Finally, Pallotti can offer us the simple lesson of humor. If we possess humility, we can laugh at our vanity and pride. The positions we once defended with such venom remain important, but our actions often look as foolish as they actually were. The sweeping generalizations made in the heat of angry debate sud-denly bring a sheepish smile to our lips and a somewhat rueful laugh from our hearts. Thomas More put it well when he prayed for a sense of humor and the grace to understand a joke so that he would know a bit of joy in this life and pass it on to others. That gift of humor is very much a part of our calling, and it is a criti-cal part of the healing needed in a polarized church. For when we are able to laugh at ourselves and one another, we are able to leave behind the anger and the pain and to invest our energy, dedication, and commitment in the only cause that really mat-ters, the kingdom of God. Pallotti's sense of humor is not often described since the hagiographers had other interests in mind when writing about him. But there are subtle hints of a gentle humor in the man, and there is no doubt in my mind that his humor helped him to overcome the many daunting obstacles he faced in his lifetime. For, if Pallotti did not have a sense of humor, we would be hard pressed to explain the gentleness, patience, and kindness which marked his entire ministry and life. Martin Luther King Jr. once spoke with eloquence of his dream of a world without social injustice and racial hatred. Pallotti too had a dream of a new reality, a dream he called many to share with him. We dream of a church which has been swept clean of polarization and ideological anger by the refreshing wind of the Holy Spirit. We dream of a church of mutual complementarity where the ordained and the laity cooperate rather than compete; where young and old are fulfilled rather than frightened by each other; where women and men complement rather than contra-dict each other; where diversity does not mean division and learn-ing can replace lambasting. We dream of a church where the pure waters of coresponsibility will extinguish the burning flames of power, domination, and polarization. .~anuary-February 1992 23 DENNIS J. BILLY The Ecumenical Kernel call for Christian unity an authentic and wide enough theological basis for diverse doctrinal and moral opinion. Such a finding can be arrived at only through a close examination of the various assumptions of that call, not the least of which concerns the very meaning of the term "oneness" itself. This, in turn, must be inte-grated with the whole of theology and in such a way that the integrity of each of the Christian traditions is maintained. The Theological Basis of Ecumenism Theologically the call to Christian unity can be traced to a number of well-known New Testament texts. Jesus' priestly prayer for solidarity among those who believe (Jn 17:21), Paul's chal-lenging description of the oneness of those baptized in Christ (Ga 3:27-28), and the eloquent call to unity in faith, baptism, and Spirit expressed by the author of Ephesians (4:4-5) are but a few of the many texts which come to mind (for example, Jn 14:20, Ac 4:32, Rin 10:12, 1 Co 12:13, Col 3:11, Heb 6:12). When taken together with Irenaeus's understanding of the church's unity of faith in both heart and soul (Adversus haereses, 1.10.2), Cyprian's notion of the unity of the church as the source of salvation (De ecdesiae unitate, 6), and Nicea's definition of the signs of the church Dennis Billy CSSR, who has often contributed to our pages, continues to reside at Accademia Mfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. 24 Review for Religious as "one, holy, catholic, and apostolic" (italics mine), these texts support the classical theological claim of the church's indivisible nature. Such evidence, however, must not be taken at face value. Beneath it lies the question why the call for unity holds such a prominent place in the texts of Christian antiquity. Do these texts portray a historical reality or a theologized hope? Do they reveal a concrete picture of the ecclesial circumstances of their times? Or do they point instead to the discouraging and often embarrassing experience of disunity within the ranks of the early church com-munities? This latter possibility seems more than likely. To sup-port this claim, one need merely point to the first-century tensions between Jewish and Gentile Christians over the need to adhere to the letter of the Mosaic law (see Acts 15), or to the Gnostic threat within the early-second-century church of Antioch which led Ignatius to see the value of a strong monarchical episcopacy, or to the third-century controversy between Carthage and Rome over the rebaptism of the lapsed, or even to the hostile division between Catholic and Arian camps in the pre-Nicene church of the early fourth century. It must also be remembered that so-called hereti-cal ideas often develop within existing ecclesial structures and are labeled as such only when circumstances push the church's teach-ing authority to articulate for its members a more precise theo-logical doctrine. In this respect, heterodoxy occasions the historical context within which orthodoxy struggles continually to refine itself. This relation of codependence in the history of Christian thought needs much further study and clarification. It comes as no small surprise, then, that one of the greatest feats of the Second Vatican Council was its dogged attempt to invert the historical dynamics of ecumenical relations from neg-ative contrariety (that is, heterodox/orthodox codependence) to cooperative dialogue. While acknowledging that the one church of Christ subsists visibly in the Catholic Church (Lume~ Gentium, 8), the council fathers recognized varying degrees of incorpora-tion into Christ's Body and, for the first time ever, the existence of other churches or ecclesiastical communities (Lumen Gemium, 14-16). They also called for the restraint of prejudicial attitudes, dialogue between competent experts, more cooperation in work-ing for the good of humanity, prayer undertaken in common, and the ongoing task of renewal and reform (Unitatis Redintegratio, 4). The intention of these challenging doctrinal innovations was January-February 1992 25 Billy ¯ Ecumenical Kernel to foster within ecumenical relations: (1) a conciliatory attitude towards the divisions of the past, (2) a realistic attitude towards the possibilities of the present, and (3) a hopeful attitude for the future. The immediate result has been more than two decades of intense dialogue between the Catholic Church and virtually every major Christian denomination and non-Christian religion. The Meaning of Christian Unity From these discussions a number of questions about the nature of Christian unity have arisen. Is the sought-after unity something which exists in the transcendent, other-worldly dimen-sion of Christ's Mystical Body? Is it to have visible expressions in the world in which we live? Must these expressions be of a structural or institutional nature? Are these expressions neces-sary to the nature of the church? Is an absolute uniformity of doctrine and morals essential to the rule of faith? Is it something that people can and should experience in the concrete expres-sions of their daily lives? Is greater cooperation in social-justice issues enough? Is it sufficient for the Christian churches simply to agree to disagree? If so, then in what does the distinctive Christian witness to the world consist? Since the answers to these and sim-ilar questions vary as much as the theological starting points of the numerous denominations involved, it is no small wonder that, on almost every front, ecumenical dialogue is slowly moving towards (and, in some cases, has already arrived at) a discouraging and uneasy state of theological deadlock. What is the worth of present attempts to break through this apparent confessional impasse? Is the standstill itself a sign that the ecumenical process has been moving in the wrong direction? The latter seems worthy of exploration. Rather than being thought of as mutually exclusive, perhaps the relational models of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue can be juxtaposed--held in tension, if you will--in such a way as to enable the churches to understand the meaning of Christian unity in more dynamic and creative terms. Perhaps the Catholic Church needs to examine its tradition of dependence on the classical Protestant theologies (that is, Lutheranism, Anglicanism, Calvinism) as a means of refin-ing its insights into the richness of its own theological tradition. The various Protestant denominations, in turn, should do the same with Catholic theology and perhaps even with each other. 26 Review for Religious The point being made here is that a theological concept can be fully appreciated and understood only in relationship to those ideas it was originally meant to negate. The history of Catholic dogma, in other words, should be written in the context of its own "antihistory," that is, in relation to those who, ultimately, could not accept the consequences of its teaching. But how is this to be done? How is a balance between ecu-menical relations based on negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue to be maintained? Are they not mutually exclusive? Do they not stand in open contradiction to one another? How could they ever be reconciled? Plato's description of justice as well-tem-pered harmony of contrary forces (Republic, IV, 443) proves an invaluable guide in this respect. Unlike Aristotle's rather static rendering of virtue as the mean between the extremes of excess and deficiency (Ethics, 2.6), Plato's understanding allows for a dynamic yet creative interplay of wild and unwieldy forces. True, mistakes will be made from time to time: one horse may over-power the resistance of the charioteer, resulting in his loss of bal-ance and eventual fall. But with the perfection of the skill comes a mastery of these contrary forces; movement is eventually achieved with ease and grace. The point here is that, rather than struggling to reach a theological middle ground acceptable to all concerned, those working for Christian unity should be more involved in trying to help people acquire the skill of dialoguing in the midst of intense confessional conflict. In doing so, future ecu-menical efforts will be less threatened by those in the churches who, somewhere along the way, have let themselves be swayed by one or the other extreme. The Ecumenical Kernel From what has been said thus far, the fundamental principle of ecumenical theology (the ecumenical kernel) may be described as an acquired interior disposition of individual Christians and believing church communities who, seeking to understand the historical and theological significance of their oven religious tra-ditions, maintain an ongoing, balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue with traditions (both Christian and non-Christian; secular and nonsecular) other than their own. The goal of these relationships is to increase, on both personal and communal levels, a deeper appreci.ation of the mutual January-February 1992 27 Billy ¯ Ecumenical Ke~ ,~,,,~ dependence these traditions share in the historical dimensions of space and time. They are to determine as far as possible the extent to which their stated differences prevent them from remaining true to the most basic tenets of their respective faith traditions. Given the above formulation of the ecumenical kernel, a num-ber of observations arise: 1. As "an acquired interior disposition," the principle resides within individual members of the believing faith community. This habitual attitude of mind looks upon other faith traditions not as a threat, but as a challenge to question and, hopefully, to grow in the knowledge and love of one's own tradition. Acquired by human cooperation with the intricate working of God's grace, it repre-sents a level of maturity which cannot be presupposed for all members of a particular tradition. The principle must be thought of as existing in varying degrees among the members of the faith community. Numerous internal tensions are likely and are to be expected. 2. The principle contains an important social dimension. The above-mentioned interior disposition of mind is not confined to private piety, but is oriented, by its very nature, towards being shared with others and towards growth within groups--often across denominational boundaries--for the purpose of achieving its stated relational goals. A person's own interior disposition of mind is strengthened by the growth of this attitude within his or her community. The more this disposition grows in its social ori-entation, the more it will affect the doctrinal outcome of ecu-menical relations among the churches. 3. The principle asserts that the Christian search for self-understanding must be carried out in the context of the relation-ship a particular faith tradition has to those traditions outside of its official confines and which the thrust of its doctrine was orig-inally intended to negate. This "knowledge by negation" forces the believer to delve ever more deeply to the roots of his or her own theological tradition and to try to determine the precise histori-cal basis of church doctrinal statements. 4. From a doctrinal perspective, precedents for the theolog-ical balancing Of opposing extremes are found in both the classi-cal trinitarian doctrine established in the fourth- and fifth-century councils (that is, three Persons in one God) and in the way the divinity and humanity of Christ were balanced in the definition of Chalcedon (451). In each instance the orthodox position emerges 28 Review for Religious only in contrast to certain teachings encountered within the ranks of the church which the authorities ultimately sought to negate (that is, Arianism, Nestorianism, Monophysitism). In such a way the principle challenges the church to adapt its classical theolog-ical approach of balancing opposing extremes to the pressing ecu-menical concerns of the present. 5. The balancing of the relationships of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue also points to the capacity of an individual or group to maintain a steadfast internal equilibrium between two very different ways of dealing with the lack of religious unity in their lives (that is, polemics and irenics). Rather than seeking to compromise or to water down one doctrine with the other, the aim here is to develop within believers suffi-cient latitude of mind not only to chal-lenge and confront, but also to see the intrinsic worth of faith traditions other than their own. By helping believers to recognize the extent to which their own tradition is dependent upon and has, in fact, been enriched by various opposing ones, these relationships should evoke a unity of respect that will go a long way in the pursuit of further ecumenical exchanges. 6. Since various religious and secular traditions are likely to be involved, the extent and scope of these relationships will vary from place to place, even within local churches of the same tra-dition. Stronger and more fruitful relationships of negative con-trariety will exist between those traditions sharing a long history of doctrinal controversy. Relationships of cooperative dialogue are constrained only by the limits of constructive theological reflection and exchange. Since each tradition will obviously look within itself for its measure of orthodoxy, progress in ecumenical relations is to be measured not so much in terms of a movement towards doctrinal uniformity as in the mutual commitment of each tradition to keeping the balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue alive. 7. The goal of appreciating the mutual dependence of con-flicting religious traditions challenges the members of each com- Other faith traditions are not a threat, but a challenge to question and, hopefully, to grow in the knowledge and love of one's own tradition. January-February 1992 29 B~I~ ¯ Ecumenical Kernel munity to take the risk of letting go, if ever so briefly, of some of the most precious presuppositions of their faith. They do this, on the one hand, in order to look at their own tradition from outside its own self-limiting confines and, on the other hand, to experience the conflicting tradition from within its own framework of hermeneutical preconceptions. The result should be an inter-pretative turn back to their own tradition with eyes opened anew to both the strengths and weaknesses of their most basic doctri-nal positions. 8. From this deeper appreciation of mutual dependence, there arises a concern over the extent to which the differences now articulated between each opposing tradition prevent them from remaining faithful to even more basic tenets of their faith which each tradition may very well share with the other. The stated goal is and must always remain a person's faithfulness to his or her own theological tradition. Disagreement between mutually depen-dent religious traditions is to be expected and cannot be over-come in all instances. VC-hat is more important is (1) that these mutually dependent religious traditions support each other in the beliefs and values which they share and (2) that they remain com-mitted to maintaining an open relationship of contrariety, one which will insure that each will continue to refine its own positions and grow in a deeper understanding of their final consequences. These observations do not exhaust the richness of the fun-damental principle of ecumenical theology as set forth in this essay. They seek merely to draw out some of the implications of the principle and to provide a context within which the current efforts of ecumenism may be renewed. Religious have an impor-tant role to play in such a renewal. Religious and Ecumenism Characterized by a communal lifestyle dedicated to the evan-gelical counsels, the religious life provides an environment that can foster the interior disposition of the heart and mind needed to maintain a balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue. In their vow of poverty, religious seek to empty themselves not merely of an inordinate attachment to material goods, but even of those immaterial attachments of the mind and heart that may get in the way of their service of the Lord. In an ecumenical context, 30 Review for Religious this would mean a willingness to hold one's own theological opin-ions "in check" so as to cooperate with other faith traditions with a view towards experiencing them for their own intrinsic worth. Such an interior disposition should culminate in a deeper aware-ness of the various strengths and weaknesses of one's own theo-logical perspective. In their vow of obedience, religious choose to accept the will of their superiors as a con-crete sign of God's design for them in their lives. In an ecu-menical context, this would translate into a strong identifi-cation of one's own desire for church unity with the approved ecumenical directives of the Catholic Church. Religious would thus stand as staunch defenders of their church's theological tradition who are able and willing not only to confront other reli-gious traditions with challeng-ing questions and observations rooted in a sound knowledge of their own faith, but also to The risk of letting go of some of the most precious presuppositions of their faith to look at their own tradition from outside its self-limiting confines should open one's eyes anew to both the strengths and weaknesses of their most basic doctrinal positions. refine their own theological positions in the light of challenges and observations received from without. In their vow of chastity, religious forgo the goods of marriage in order to give witness to the existence of a life beyond the con-fines of the present earthly reality. In an ecumenical context, this translates into a constant reminder to the various proponents of church unity that the ultimate source of that unity cannot be human efforts alone, but is the trinitarian harmony of "unity in plurality" within the life of the Godhead itself. Religious thus urge their fellow Christians to be aware of the eschatological dimensions of their struggle for church unity. God's kingdom, in other words, is established on earth only to the extent that the oneness and peace found in the divinity's inner life manifests itself (1) within the communal assemblies of the faithful and (2) in the human society where these faithful assemblies gather. January-February 1992 31 Billy ¯ Ecumenical Kernel Even more important than the above considerations is the fact that the religious life asks its members to strive constantly towards achieving in many areas of their lives a delicate balance of opposing extremes, for example, action/contemplation; personal needs/community life; the ideals of the evangelical counsels/the experience of human weakness and the tendency to sin. Such a life of balanced extremes should make the balance of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue spoken of in this essay that much easier to incorporate within one's own spirituality and approach to life. This is not to say that a similar balance cannot be developed in other states of life within the church (for exam-ple, single, married, priestly lives), but only that the religious life is especially suited to it. To be sure, the eschatological orientation of the vows themselves moves the religious to maintain a contin-ually balanced perspective between life in the present and in the beyond. Realized eschatology refers not to a collapse of the latter into the former, but to the balanced and simultaneous movement of each, bringing the Christian to his or her ultimate end in God. Conclusion This essay deals with the present deadlock in ecumenical progress by reexamining some of the basic premises of the dis-cussion and by suggesting a redirection of many current efforts for Christian unity. As put forth in these pages, the fundamental prin-ciple of ecumenical theology (the ecumenical kernel) calls for the balancing of the opposing extremes of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue. While the former refers to the relationship of heterodox/orthodox codependence prevalent in the early church and in the Catholic Church's relation with dissident Christian traditions down through the centuries, the latter represents the more conciliatory, irenic approach employed since the time of the Second Vatican Council. The essay argues that the movement towards Christian unity lies not so much in a calculated agenda for doctrinal uniformity as in the commitment among the churches to maintain the balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue. The bonds resulting from such a relation-ship of opposing extremes give rise to a healthy respect for tra-ditions other than one's own and to a deeper consciousness of the mutual dependence which so many traditions share but so sel-dom advert to. 32 Review for Religious Religious can play an important role in maintaining this bal-ance of opposing extremes. Their commitment to the vows pro-vides them with a deep spiritual basis from which they can develop the necessary internal disposition of mind and heart required for the principle to take effect. Since their way of life already asks them to sustain a similar balance of opposing extremes in many areas of their lives, they give witness, on the one hand, to those who believe it cannot be done and set an example, on the other hand, for those seeking to embody the principle in their own lives. The faithful dedication of religious to their calling not only serves as a leaven for themselves and others (both within and without the Catholic tradition), but also can make those who are deaf to the call for church unity sit up and take notice. Religious should be in the forefront of the church's attempt to maintain with other religious traditions a balanced relationship of nega-tive contrariety and cooperative dialogue. In sum, then, the fundamental principle of ecumenical theol-ogy (the ecumenical kernel) states that church unity involves a pro-cess of committed encounter between religious traditions whose very existence implies a relationship of concrete mutual depen-dence. The goal of ecumenical theology is to highlight this rela-tionship and thus provide, for all concerned, a deeper understanding of the issues which unite and separate them. Since such under-standing will take place only in the context of the above-mentioned balance of opposing extremes, it would seem that the churches have much to do before the long-yearned-for unity "in faith and morals" becomes a reality for future Christian generations. January-February 1992 33 JAMES M. KEEGAN Elements and Dynamics of a Spiritual-Direction Practicum direction and discernment the West Coast to talk about their common concerns in training spiritual directors, has discovered itself large enough to form a separate East Coast "symposium." In the years of religious discovery after Vatican II, a num-ber of institutions in North America established them-selves as centers for the training or development of spiritual directors. This sudden evolution, or fission, into dozens of programs is startling. It seems the training of spiritual directors, almost without being noticed, is becom-ing a significant commitment of church-related institu-tions. While the methods and goals of these ventures are as diverse as the people who manage them, there is a signifi-cant difference between practicum programs and those which do not involve such an element. Even among practicums the variety of ways and means can be dizzy-ing. To stimulate and encourage those engaged in the adventure of developing spiritual directors--or thinking James M. Keegan sJ has been involved in the training of spir-itual directors for a dozen years, first in New England and now in Kentucky. His present work is in the Spirituality Office of the Archdiocese of Louisville: Flaget Center; 1935 Lewiston Place; Louisville, Kentucky 40216. 34 Review for Religious about it--this article will describe some of the facets of a suc-cessful practicum and then present two important issues which seem inevitably to arise in this kind of work. The Need for Practicums At the center of its pedagogy, a practicum program includes the actual doing of spiritual direction with directees over a period of time, plus staff supervision of that work. Under this definition falls a wide variety of actual plans, courses, and organizations ranging from year-long full-time programs to part-time one-to-four- year courses, as well as those shorter arrangements designed for one to four months which may include individually directed retreats as the practicum element. The abundance of programs answers a new demand for spir-itual directors, a demand arising from a felt need as well as from the increased visibility of spiritual direction as an attractive, pos-sibly even faddish, discovery in the current atmosphere of the churches. Increasingly, professional ministers are recognizing their spiritual hunger and lack of regular nourishment in the central relationship of their lives and opting to do something about it beyond an annual retreat. Furthermore, as lay men and women are encouraged and educated to claim their particular gifts of min-istry, many are realizing the concomitant need for stronger spir-itual grounding. So they seek out competent spiritual directors. The quality of training which those directors receive seems of paramount importance if they are to be accurately helpful to these men and women, as well as accountable for what they do. While a reading knowledge of spiritual direction or an understanding of some of its theoretical schemata can be important in preparing one to do the work and especially in reflecting on it later, such an approach without the practical element of working with individ-uals can be counterproductive and even dangerous. The theories of spiritual life that one reads have been developed from many an individual case over long periods of trial and error. They acknowledge, of course, the rough edges and ambiguities one meets when face-to-face with a directee, but they cannot predict how any one of us will react in that circumstance. For instance, one can understand that change and development in prayer are often signaled by inner darkness, and yet have no idea how to understand and respond to a directee's yearning pain. One may January-February 1992 35 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum have theories about the termination of spiritual direction, but be completely thrown when a particular directee wants to quit. A program involving a supervised practicum should be considered a sine qua non at some point in the development of a qualified spiritual director. Those who run successful programs usually have articulated their beliefs and pedagogy in a model of spiritual direction which they attempt to impart to the participants. For some, the heart of the model is conversion; for others, religious experience or the incorporation of social awareness into one's life and prayer. The strength of the practicum, however, comes not from a model of spiritual direction, but from the experience of God at work in the directee, the director, and the supervisor--and from their suc-cesses and mistakes. If it is genuinely at the service of its partic-ipants' experience of God, a successful practicum program is a continuous test of the model upon which it based. Change and development in spiritual life may look quite different from what is expected; God's action may outfox the supervisor as well as the director and demand that the staff reflect critically upon its assumptions in the light of its experience. Elements of a Practicum A practicum is composed of a staff and the participants. "Staff" here means supervisory staff, even though other staff persons may be vital to the functioning of the program. The staff oversees the participants in at least six basic and essential elements. 1. Active engagement in the work of spiritual direction. Nothing substitutes for each participant's seeing several directees on a reg-ular basis if the core of learning is to be the recognition of God's action in another's life. Other elements of the program are more or less useful as they help participants become better at recog-nizing and facilitating another person's relationship with God. Directees most often come through the sponsoring organization, with staff members conducting a first interview to determine their readiness for spiritual direction. In other instances, participants in the program bring their own directees. In any case the staff should determine its role in the admission of directees so as to insure that these persons' real needs may be met and that the practicum's participants may best learn from their experience. Their work with a number of directees regularly over an 36 Review for Religious extended period of time provides them with learning that cannot be acquired in briefer time or with only one or two individuals. They may learn from dealing with the slow development of one person's contemplative ability, or with people at different stages of spiritual life or in different socioeconomic conditions, or with various dynamics of change in people's relationship with God. Whereas some beginning directees may already be at home in their inner lives, others will need patient help in discovering an inner landscape, noticing and then articulating interior events, and continuing to pray when things get dark. The way in which such variety challenges or affirms assumptions that the partici-pants have provides an invaluable arena for their formation as spiritual directors. 2. Regular supervision of actual cases. Confidential supervision using verbatim reports (or taped interviews) is the central learn-ing arena. Supervision begins when the participant prepares a detailed ("verbatim") report of what actually occurred in a par-ticular spiritual-direction session, and is furthered in the encounter with a staff supervisor. The focus is on exploring the participant's responses and reactions rather than on diagnosing the directee, and the goal is twofold: assuring the welfare of the directee and promoting the personal and professional integration of the par-ticipant, the fledgling director. Many programs include group supervision to provide insight that may not come from a single supervisor, and to encourage participants in the program to think in a supervisory manner. Learning through supervision to reflect on the particulars of their work with a directee, participants can become aware of their particular strengths and weaknesses as spiritual directors. Rather than simply offering tools or techniques for the work, a super-vised practicum can help directors to discover their own distinc-tive style and abilities, taking as their goal the development of the person of the spiritual director as a director. Supervision helps to develop a discriminating mind-set, a love for criticism, and the healthy skepticism about one's own work which allows God to be the creative one in the lives of directees. 3. Regular personal spiritual direction. It is clear that one of the greatest helps or hindrances to growth in a practicum program is the participant's personal experience of receiving spiritual direc-tion. We shall see in the final section of this article that partici-pants' personal lives and prayer may hit rocky ground in the January-February 1992 37 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum course of this kind of program, and personal issues may cloud their ability to learn. At least during the practicum, participants should be encouraged to receive direction from directors whose practice is known by the staff to be based on principles similar to those being taught. Furthermore, without an experiential awareness of those principles active in their own life, participants may well find the focus of a particular program either intellectu-ally confusing or, worse, negligible. 4. Study: Courses, Workshops, Reading. A tragic flaw in many practicums is the attempt to accomplish so much that the essen-tials are lost; more material is covered at the expense of contem-plative depth and reflection on the work. No staff wants to certify ignorant or uninformed directors, but the body of knowledge with which a good spiritual director should be familiar is growing so rapidly that it could ease an experiential pedagogy into sec-ond place. Each staff will have to determine for itself how much time and energy should be given to at least these four areas: the-ology (Scripture study, Christology, moral theology), psychology (developmental theory, study of the unconscious, diagnostic cat-egories), spirituality (history, traditions of prayer and discern-ment), and culture (religiopolitical history, issues of social justice). Some will set certain prerequisites for entrance into their pro-grams while others will encourage concurrent workshops, courses, and reading. A rule of thumb might be that academic work in a practicum should illumine the participants' experience of doing spiritual direction and whet their appetite for further investigation rather than just provide familiarity with a broad range of material on spirituality. 5. Reflection. Development of spiritual directors demands con-templative time for participants to remember, think and pray about, and otherwise mull over with their directees. Reflection is a value that needs to be built into the program, or competing forces will eat it away. It is possible to design a course whose aca-demic elements unite around and illuminate the participants' experience doing the work of direction. While the goal of a grad-uate program might be the students' command of the history of spirituality and the works of its major authors, a practicum seeks to help its participants understand their experience in the light of the tradition. Reading assignments, for instance, will be differ-ent than in academic programs: participants may be asked to famil-iarize themselves with the cultural background of a spiritual classic 38 Review for Religious and then read only a few pages of the actual work, imagining the experience described, comparing it with what they have seen, noticing their reactions to it. Questions like the following might be pursued after a reading of the first three chapters of the Life of Teresa of Avila: What do you understand (or not) of her expe-rience of God? Have you seen anything like it in any of your directees? How is it different? What do you make of the cultural influences on Teresa? on your directee? What is God like for these people? Where does Teresa's experi-ence lead? your directee's? Some programs provide retreat week-ends for their participants, or other kinds of shared prayer. Journaling can be built into group time, along with some sharing of that journaling with the group. Finally, the staff's reflective lifestyle, or its absence, speaks most loudly of the values inherent in any program. 6. Evaluation. However it may make us cringe, a supervisory program is inescapably evaluative. Supervision, as described here, is a means of critical self-evaluation. Further, if participants are progressing toward some kind of certification, clear develop-mental criteria must be communicated and maintained. It is essen-tial that the staff have understood these criteria uniformly and agreed upon them and that it apply them equitably. Furthermore, the staff needs to talk at length with one another about their atti-tudes toward evaluation, both of participants' performance and of their own. The more clearly the staff understands the foundational phi-losophy and pedagogy of the program, the more clearly it will communicate the goals and objectives of each term or semester, and the more helpful the evaluations will be for those in the pro-gram. If, for instance, a goal of the first segment is a demon-strated ability to listen to a directee with empathy, acceptance, and genuineness, both the staff and those being evaluated would have to understand and recognize the working definitions of those terms and agree on their place in the work of spiritual direction. A positive evaluation would encourage participants by helping them to own their strengths and successes and would challenge them with specific directions for growth in the next segment of the Reflection is a value that needs to be built into the program, or competing forces will eat it away. ~anuary-Felrruary 1992 39 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum work. In deciding what constitutes a negative evaluation, how-ever, and what the next steps should be, a staff may run into ques-tions and disagreements rooted in the subjective nature of much of their work, and will need to fall back on their previous inter-action and their togetherness as a team. Evaluation is also a means by which a program can measure its own success in the short term. If the learning goals for each term or semester are not achieved by participants in a demon-strable way, evaluation time 1nay signal a need to rethink parts of the program. 7. Summary. As described here, a practicum program focuses its energies and its various elements on the concrete work of spir-itual direction and on its supervision for learning purposes. Study, reflection, group process, even individuals' own prayer and spir-itual direction are variously related to what happens when the participants engage with a directee. The supervisory staff need a shared understanding and experience of the basic elements of such engagement which they want to develop in those who come to them for training. Because the heart of the practicum is the meeting of persons--the directee, the director, and the supervi-sor, all carrying their own inner wounds and scars, and the supremely free person of God--the entire endeavor stands on precarious ground. The following section will discuss two events which, unlike earthquakes, may be predictable. Some Dynamics of a Supervisory Program. Although a practicum is a clinic for ministerial development, personal as well as clinical issues will inevitably arise among the participants and call for attention. V~hen strongly felt psycho-logical and spiritual change begins to happen to individuals in a group, the forces at play can be simultaneously shrill and very subtle, and a staff ought to be prepared to listen beneath the noise lest their program be derailed. Below I will discuss two issues, a personal issue which often has profound impact on the practicum as a whole and a clinical one which arises from the nature of a practicum. First, if the program presents a refined focus or a particular understanding of the nature of prayer or spirituality, it will prob-ably confront to some degree the spiritual lives of those enrolled in it. People will be challenged to confirm their own experience 40 Review for Religious anew, to look into it more deeply than before, or to criticize and possibly jettison their old assumptions about God, prayer, and spiritual life. They may expose the inadequacy of former spiri-tual directors or may encounter their need for counseling or ther-apy; anger may arise and get directed at staff, peers, friends, or directees. Because of new material about spiritual life or new experience of it, the participants themselves begin to change--some-times radically. This is usually an important and welcome development, signaling real engagement in the pro-gram. However, such personal expe-rience can be so strong and so generally felt that, unless a staff expects and understands it, the oper-ative goal of the program can subtly shift from ministerial to personal growth. A practicum can subtly change into a personal-growth rather than a ministerial endeavor if the staff does not keep the emphasis on the work to A practicum can subtly change into a personal-growth rather than a ministerial endeavor if the staff does not keep the emphasis on the work to be done. be done, always conscious of helping the participants to bring their personal growth to bear on their work with directees. Here the staff itself may well need supervision. Elements of the program can be imperceptibly skewed away from the ministerial issues cen-tral to it. Because the person of the director is the focus of super-vision, for instance, supervisory sessions may subtly become therapeutic rather than clinical and professional. If participants are consistently asked to consult their own experience of life or prayer in reflecting on their work, they may not develop the ability to remember and look critically at other people's experience, which will inevitably offer them a wider and more surprising range. Material can be presented in a way that favors the participants' personal application of it and neglects the further step of apply-ing what they have learned to what they have seen in their directees. Since participants often experience the "personal-conversion phenomenon," it can become a group issue which may be best addressed if there is in place some group function where they are encouraged to talk with one another about what is happening to January-February 1992 41 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum them personally. Further, the staff may need to be flexible enough to modify the syllabus or calendar, to adjust the presentation of material to the ability of individuals in the group to hear and absorb it. The second issue I intend to discuss, for which I borrow the term "narcissistic crisis,''l occurs in some form in most clinical programs and is complicated by the highly personal and value-laden religious material of spiritual direction. People tend to enter such programs with some infection from the cultural stereotype of the spiritual director as wise, holy, and powerful. Whether they measure themselves positively or negatively against this icon and its expectations, participants very often exhibit regressive behav-ior when a supervisor starts to look at the details of their work. Initial confidence or self-doubt may turn into their opposites when otherwise successful and competent people find themselves scrutinized as they assume their new roles. For our purposes it is important to notice that (1) participants may extraordinarily and unrealistically accept or challenge the foundational elements and philosophy of the program; (2) this is an expectable and wel-come development, rather than something to be avoided, and demands staff understanding, unity, and participation; and (3) this "narcissistic crisis" is primarily an individual issue (in that it will configure itself quite differently in each person's experience), but it can easily--and erroneously--be generalized into a broader dis-satisfaction with the program when it catches similar issues in other participants. The resistance of this phase of practicum training often sounds like rebellion or despair: "I have heard all this before." "I am never going to do this right." "There are lots of ways of doing spiritual direction that you're not giving us." "Tell me what I should have said to this directee." At heart these are often state-ments about the personal difficulties individuals are encountering as their self-esteem experiences some dismantling in supervision or in their comparing themselves with more polished perfor-mances from peers or the staff. So the staff must be keen not to mistake them either for genuine criticism or for signs of genuine understanding of the program's foundational elements. This resis-tance, when felt by a group (either the participants or the staff), can swamp and drown gentler voices of moderation and carries within itself strong "we versus them" projections that must be understood and treated as such by the staff lest they polarize the 42 Review for Religious program. Supervisors need to look beneath the manifest behavior to the personal and professional issues that are awakening. Successful negotiation of this "crisis" can be difficult for a staff, testing its team cohesiveness with urges to side with or against certain participants, and its willingness to recognize and respond flexibly to genuine criticism. Supervisors are idealized, identified with, then ignored or renounced--made into idols and then melted down! Erosion of his or her own self-esteem and professional identity can tempt a staff member to clear up a super-visee's anxiety and confusion rather than work with it as appropriate to this stage of learning, or perhaps to respond in anger, or to exaggerate or minimize the real demands of the program. The very survival of the supervisory staff may hinge upon its having done its work in the following two areas. First, a shared understanding of and desire to work with the foundational philosophy and pedagogy of the program is impera-tive and should not be taken for granted. While diversity of background and ideas can enrich a training program, all mem-bers of the staff will need to understand A participant who finds support, challenge, and growing peership in supervision will grow away from dependence on the supervisor and the institution represented in the practicum. the particular goals being sought when the going gets tough. New staffs need to put aside valuable time to discuss and haggle over what they mean by spiritual direction and training directors, and ongoing staffs could profit from a devil's advocate brought con-sciously into their midst. Second, it is of critical importance that the supervisory work of each staff member be open to the others, and in some detail. For the welfare of the program's participants and for the profes-sional development of the staff, the work they do with partici-pants needs itself to be supervised with the same focus on the presenting person as described earlier. They will need to know and trust each other's work when some of the dynamics detailed here begin to operate, or at least to have a forum in which to challenge and change one another. If the goal of a practicum is the integration of supervised January-February 1992 43 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum learning into one's own personal style of doing spiritual direc-tion, then the participants' success or failure in resolving this cri-sis could be crucial to their development as spiritual directors. If supervisors maintain only a mentor's stance and never allow their own mistakes and biases to be dealt with, or if the program appears inflexible, participants may perceive little room to blend what they have learned into their particular personalities. The result can be either a defensive posture against the program and its goals or a need to maintain one's connection with it in order to feel competent. On the other hand, a participant who finds support, challenge, and growing peership in supervision will grow away from dependence on the supervisor and the institution repre-sented in the practicum. Toward the end of a successful year, for instance, a supervisee said with some force, "I am going to park this whole damn program and get out and walk!" The remark, articulating his desire to integrate his learning with his own stride, would have told quite a different story--and been far less wel-come- at the beginning of the year. At some point any trained spiritual director will have to ques-tion the basic principles of his or her training, experiment with them, and integrate what is of substance into a personal, distinc-tive style of doing spiritual direction. A practicum can impart the skills and qualities needed in a spiritual director. A better practicum can aim to help qualified directors to be themselves in the practice of direction. Conclusion Inasmuch as we are heirs of the Judeo-Christian legacy, spir-itual directors are face-to-face with an extremely delicate task: to facilitate the self-revelation of the incomprehensible God. While we know that anything we assert about this unsearchable God must be taken back immediately as inadequate, human words and gestures are what we have to work with in the place of awed silence. The God who is omnipresent is also most concrete. The unknowable God has chosen to be known and has, in our Scriptures, revealed a personality, desires, and hopes. God has a divine Name and entrusts it to Moses and Israel (Ex 3). God is tender and caring as a mother or a father (Is 43, 49; Ho 11), pas-sionately angry (Am 5), or desperately sad (Jr 14). Able spiritual directors are women and men who have explored and become 44 Review for Religious responsible for their own personalities and have, to some degree, integrated that with the ministry to which they have been called. They can dare to approach the intimate experience of another person and, above all, the Person of God, with humility and expec-tation. Before them is the task of reverencing the mystery while exploring the everyday events in which the mysterious personal-ity of God becomes incarnate, in a sense continuing by that very work the loving thrust of God into even the smallest details of earthly life. Our tradition makes clear that such discernment arises from and is verified in the community of believers. A practicum in spir-itual direction, then, can be more than a training ground. At its best it can be a microcosm of the People of God, an instance of the kind of critical believing community without which we dare not claim to know in our own lives--nor to help others know-- what God is saying here and now. Note ~ See Baird K. Brightman PhD, "Narcissistic Issues in the Training Experience of the Psychotherapist," International Journal of Psychoanalytic Psychotherapy 12 (1983). Narcissism is discussed as a dynamic element in the struggle for psychic growth, involving "a positive libidinal feeling toward the self" or the maintenance of self-esteem in the face of the erosion of one's grandiose professional self and of one's pro-jection of perfection onto others, namely, the staff, the supervisor. Brightman sees a clinical program "as a developmental period of adult-hood with its own characteristic tasks and demands, and therefore the potential for evoking the conflicts, fixations, and defenses of the preced-ing life stages (as well as the potential for further growth)." January-February 1992 45 CHARLES REUTEMANN On Becoming a Discerning Person Through Spiritual Direction hese reflections are a practical commentary on a short passage from the prophet Jeremiah: "More tortuous than all else is the human heart, beyond remedy; who can understand it? I, the Lord, alone probe the mind and test the heart" (Jer 17:9). The image of "journey" as a way of describing day-to-day movement towards self-knowledge, towards intimacy with God, and towards a generous love and service of neighbor has been popular in most ages and many cultures. Among written descrip-tions are The Pilgrim's Progress, The Ascent of Mount Carmel, The Road Less Traveled, the journey into The Interior Castle, and the four-week journey of the Exercises of St. Ignatius. Even the life of Jesus is presented to us as a journey: with Mary and Joseph from Nazareth to Bethlehem; from Bethlehem to Egypt and then back to Nazareth; from Nazareth to other parts of Galilee and to Judea and Samaria; and finally that fatal last journey up to Jerusalem, and then out to the whole world. In particular, the Gospel of Luke-Acts is cast as a splendid journey story. In the Gospel it is like a great bus ride, with Jesus as driver, gathering up all the poor and the outcasts: smelly shepherds, tax collectors, prostitutes, fishermen, cripples, widows, the blind, the possessed-- all are gathered and brought on the journey to that symbolic holy Charles Reutemann FSC is on the staff of the Center for Spirituality and Justice, a training center in the Bronx for spiritual directors. For six-teen years he was director of Sangre de Cristo Renewal Center in Santa Fe, New Mexico. He resides at Manhattan College and his address is 5050 Fieldstone Road; Riverdale, New York 10471. 46 Review for Religious place Jerusalem. Then in Acts there is another bus ride, and the driver is the Holy Spirit sent by Jesus, gathering more outcasts: eunuchs, sailors, tent makers, prison guards, merchants--all on a bus ride leading to Rome, that symbol of the whole world. Life is a journey, and the most engrossing part is the interior journey of our soul. Our soul's journey--what is it like? Is it merely a random alternation of ups and downs, of going forward and falling back, and then more of the same? Or is there a pattern and a meaning to it? One major spiritual tradi-tion sees our journey as a line, a kind of one-direc-tional climbing of a hill with many slippings and risings. Another and perhaps better spiritual tra-dition sees the spiritual journey as a spiral, as something like the liturgical-year cycle in which we keep moving through the seasons, the seasons of the year, the seasons of our life, the seasons of the life of Jesus, ever moving deeper. With Jesus we move through his birth, early years, public life, conflict life, death, and resurrection. As we touch and live through the seasons of Jesus' life, never boring nor repetitious, we live through the sea-sons of our life, a kind of spiral journeying, touching the same places inside us, but never really the same, as we go deeper, ever trying to find the answers to those two great questions of all life: What does it all mean? and what shall I do with my love? No, we never remain the same on our soul journey, even though our days pass one after the other in twenty-four-hour regularity. This is our interior spiritual journey, fascinating and mysterious. Are there things that we notice as we circle slowly about, things that are happening to us, things that move us forward? and other things that seem to block our way? Of course! First of all, one of the things that all of us recognize and that spiritual guides are most attentive to is our freedom. How much inner freedom do we find in us as the years go by: freedom from our compul-sions, addictions, fixed ways of looking at things? And somehow we also recognize that we cannot will our freedom--it is some-thing that happens, like Topsy, or the Velveteen Rabbit. Another thing we may become aware of as we move along, and it is much akin to freedom, is detachment: Are we really beginning to lose our ego, to lose that self-regarding self?. I cannot forget some- Life is a journey, and the most engrossing part is the interior journey of our soul. January-February 1992 47 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person Our prayer shows us what road we are and what direction we are facing on that road. thing I heard many years ago from an English university profes-sor. We were doing a workshop in Dublin, and one day he casu-ally mentioned that he was teaching history to Mother Teresa's novices in a convent outside of London. "Oh," I said, "and what kind of woman is Mother Teresa?" He paused a moment and then slowly said, "She's a woman who has lost her ego." I have never forgotten that. What a marvelous achievement, and what a lifelong process! A third thing we might begin to notice as we move along on our journey is what motivates us. Are we really begin-ning to live more and more by faith, seeing things through Gospel values and truths, gradually find-ing ourselves more like St. Paul when he cries out, "I live! no, not I, but Christ is beginning to live in me"? There may be other signs that we notice about our inner selves: a certain simplicity, a movement towards integrity--but wait a minute! Are we aware of what we have been saying: ing freedom, noticing detachment, noticing living by faith? Now that is something to notice! Is it possible to become a more noticing person? And there we have the magic word, discernment! Noticing is discernment; a noticing heart is a discerning heart. Or is it a discerning head? Or is it both? Let us pause to look at the other expression in our reflection, "spiritual direction." We all need direction, especially if we find ourselves in an unknown land of many roads, like some parts of the Bronx, or downtown Boston, or Jersey City. And the same is true of our interior life, our spirit life. Most of us know exactly what St. Paul is talking about when he exclaims: "I don't know where I'm going. I don't do the good things I want to do; instead, I do the evil I don't want to do. My inner being delights in the law of God; but I am aware of a different law that is at work in me, that fights against the law that my mind approves of. It makes me a prisoner to the law of sin which is at work in me. What an unhappy person I am! Who will rescue me from this road that is taking me to death? Who will show me the way?" (Rm 7:15-24, adapted). Everyone on the spiritual journey of life needs direction, needs some guidance for the spirit. We know there are various maps to help us find this direction: spiritual books and magazines 48 Review for Religqous that we can study and learn by, especially that great map, the Holy Bible, which has directed more people in the whole world than any other--and still does. Another source of direction is our own prayer, our struggle to be quiet and to reflect, our crying out "Give me guidance today, O Lord!" Our prayer shows us what road we are on, and what direction we are facing on that road. And then there is another source, something that has been practiced in all cultures and religions, namely, the conversation between two people about the interior life and its ways. This con-versation is frequently called "spiritual direction." To a woman coming to me for such direction, I once said, as we faced each other in a relaxed setting, "And zvhy do you want spiritual direc-tion?" She was startled, but after a moment's silence she leaned forward and said, "I want to become more real." I was startled by the beauty of her response. Then I said: "And what would it mean for you to become more real?" Again she was thoughtful: "Well, I have this friend whose mother has Alzheimer's disease. Every time I see her when she's walking with her mother, she is smiling." So it is that some people seek spiritual direction, a conversa-tion with another adult about their values and their God, because they have seen something beautiful in another person and they want to be like that. They are challenged to fill up what is want-ing in themselves, to grow, to go deeper, to become more real. Other people, like myself when I first sought direction many years ago, recognize that, although they want God in their lives, they get careless and easily become distracted, even choked, by the anxieties and cares of the world. They need someone to talk with about their desire for God, someone to be accountable to--so that, in the very telling of their stow, they may be strengthened in their resolve and receive clarity about the paths to God. Others seek spiritual direction because they are troubled: there is a crisis in their lives. It may be a relationship, it may be a major decision about a vocational choice, it may be an addiction. But always this crisis is affecting the sense of God in their lives: Does God understand? Where is God? Am I on the right path? More tortuous than all else is the human heart. Where is the direction? They need the Lord to probe their mind and test their heart. For others, things are not all that clear. There is no crisis, but there seems to be something missing. The refrain "Is that all there is?" rings through their lives. They have had no other adult January-February 1992 49 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person with whom they can talk values. And so, finding themselves drift-ing, uncertain, lacking meaning, they seek direction. From all of this, can we now say that we have some sense of what spiritual direction looks like, at least in a Christian setting and in today's world? It is a conversation between two adults in which one is seeking some guidance on the path to God and the meaning of life. It is not idle chatter, nor even problem solving, though it is about the ordinary things of life: communication, liv-ing situation, working conditions, relationships. It takes time, honesty, and a spiritual sense. It is one of the gifts of the Spirit for forming the Christian and the Christian community. Can we say anything about the guide, the spiritual director? Like all guides, it would seem that the guide should have some training, some expertise, and that he or she should also be receiv-ing spiritual direction on the pilgrim road. We would want a knowledgeable person, someone familiar with the inner move-ments of the heart, the roadways, possessing some skills that might avoid pitfalls, especially the skill of listening to where the person wants to go--listening is so important, and it is a listening that goes beyond ideas and words and focuses on feelings and desires. Every pilgrim on the spiritual journey is best known by his or her desires and feelings, and the guide must be attentive to them. The director need not be a holy person, but he or she must be a seeker of God, one who prays regularly and who has a vision of faith. Lastly, the spiritual guide must really have the interests of the pilgrim at heart, and thus must be patient, humble, and under-standing. It is God who gives the increase, it is God who sends down the rain to water the paths. Can we say anything about what a spiritual-direction session would look like? Well, obviously, the directee would come pre-pared, that is, ask herself beforehand: Where has God been in my life since last we met? What have been some of my responses? As 1 reflect, what might I like from this session? Can I say any-thing about my prayer or about something that has struck me? The session itself can last forty-five minutes to an hour, but no longer than that and possibly shorter. When someone begins direction, it is helpful that the meetings be somewhat frequent: each week or every other week. Then, after three or four meet-ings, the space can be lengthened to three or four weeks. And, of course, to get the most benefit, the directee would take time to write down and even pray over what has been noteworthy in the 50 Review for Religious session. Let me illustrate this point. It is rare that I receive letters from my directees, but recently I did receive one that reads in part like this: "Mainly just want to tell you how much I have come to value our sessions. Thanks very much for your interest, atten-tion, and care in helping me to come to know the Lord better in my life. I believe it is also helping me to communicate that kind of experience to others whom I meet in the course of my own work and ministry, my own life. I guess what occasions this, in addition to the gratitude, is that I just wrote up for myself, as I usually do, a little summary of the points that we talked about . And I was surprised to see how wide-ranging it was, and the depth too, and the com-monalities among the points .Certain themes do begin to appear after a time . " Of course, a director or guide prepares too, by prayer, by reflection, and sometimes by written observations that help chart the inner movements on the directee's journey and the basic direction. Let me now say some more about "discernment" and then try to relate it to how spiritual direction ought to be helping us become more discerning persons. Frequently individuals and even whole groups, when faced with a major decision, will say, "You know, I (we) have to discern that"; and then they start some pro-cess to which they give the name "discernment." Is that what dis-cernment is, something we do when we have to make a big decision? Yes and no. I like to call decision making a "choosing" that gets into the will and into the feeling part of me. Of course, as I do that, I need to weigh things before I say yes to what I choose. I also like it when Karl Rahner says, "There are no big decisions; there are only bundles of little decisions." He seems to be suggesting that we are making little choices all along, choices coming from our feelings and our thinking, perhaps more from one than the other. So discernment is something we can practice in those little choices that might eventually get into a bundle for a big choice. And discernment therefore could become some kind of a habit of noticing my feelings and testing their reasonable-ness,~ that is, whether or not they are leading me to my better self and to my God or leading me away, down some primrose path to my ego self. We should try to become a discerning person in the ordinary times and in the little choices, for discernment is 'There are no big decisions; there are only bundles of little decisions.' January-February 1992 51 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person not the kind of thing we can start practicing when we need to make a big decision. When asked "Who is the holy person?" the Lord Buddha answered: "There are sixty minutes to the hour, and sixty seconds to each minute, and sixty fractions of a second to each second. If anyone could be fully present in each fraction of each second, that person would be a holy person." Awareness leading to rightmindedness. Noticing, testing, leading to choice. For most of us, growth in self-knowledge occurs when we take more notice of our feelings and name them. For, although we may be deeply feeling people, most of our conscious life is taken up with thought: making observations, giving our opinions, try-ing to figure out what we are to do. But does this get down to the deeper self, the desiring self, the hoping and choosing self?. Spiritual directors need to assess this so that they come to see the necessity of helping directees uncover feelings and name them. But it is equally necessary that people test with their heads the inner reasonableness of their feelings: W~here are they coming from? Are they leading to or away from God? Can we conclude then that in discernment it would be a mis-take to separate our feelings from our knowledge-insight? that it would be a mistake to consider our feelings as better criteria for discernment and decision making? and, finally, that we make a mistake when we overlook the possibility that, although operat-ing out of our heads can distort the spiritual journey, living only by feelings or feeling-insights, "spiritual hunches" if you will, can be equally distortive? ~ But perhaps we are getting too theoretical. Let me give some examples of how spiritual direction can help someone become a more discerning person. Peter is an ordained minister who is beginning spiritual direction. He says he is overburdened by the work of an inner-city parish. In several sessions he mentions his hope that the spiritual direction will give him an answer to his "burnout." The spiritual director can help Peter examine his day, note areas that might be curtailed, and perhaps even recommend that he change ministries. Another way to go is to examine with Peter his feelings about his situation: What are the feelings? anger? sadness? self-pity? feeling abandoned and alone? He might then be asked whether the different feelings (not his work nor the situation in general) are leading him to God or away from God. This question needs to be asked with careful nuances. It is here, too, that the exchange can become prayerful. Most people 52 Review for Religious never examine their feelings with God. They may mention them to God, but they never explore how God reacts or even feels about their feelings. It is almost as though God were "over there," observing things, but never really empathetic, never really involved in their feelings, especially "negative" ones like anger, sadness, and self-pity. Is it possible that, as Peter explores his feelings about his burnout, he might become more aware, more discerning about his inner movements and the direction in which they are taking him: to God? away from God? Is it possi-ble, too, that out of this awareness some clarity about practical decisions affecting his burnout might come to him? Can we see how some kind of disciplined willing-ness to look at our feelings and testing their reasonableness with God is central to dis-cernment? Can we also see that it is a chal-lenge to the spiritual director to encourage directees, especially those who operate out of their head (as most of us do), to take this route? It is indeed a real challenge, even hard work. Maria has been coming for direction for several years. She is energetic, has a sense of humor, and talks with verve and rapid-ity. She actively seeks God, even seems to wrestle with him in a verbal kind of way. One day she comes and blurts out: "Where am I in my relationship with God? I am becoming more and more clearly aware of my sinfulness--not vague sinfulness, but specific sins and definite sinfulness. I realize I can do nothing good. I wonder why he bothers with me. And yet I am at peace with this; I don't feel upset by this. And then, when I go into poor neigh-borhoods and see all the people and the poverty and suffering, I wonder if there is a God. I doubt that there can be a God. No, I just don't believe there is a God." She stops and looks at the direc-tor as though to say, "Now solve that!" Clearly, the spiritual director cannot solve anything, nor should she try. Yet there is a "way out." In listening to Maria, the director needs also to listen to herself, noting any movements that are taking place within herself as she listens to Maria. She notices a twinge in her heart when Maria says, "I wonder why he bothers with me." Acting on that, and by patient questioning, the All growth in the spiritual life is strongly rooted in desire, and it is from desire that commitment flows. January-February 1992 53 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person director explores: "Why do you wonder? What is that like? What are you feeling as you wonder that? And God, what might she be feeling as you realize within yourself that you can do nothing good by yourself?." Following this, there might be the opportunity to look closely at the poor, the suffering, and the abandoned and to wonder with Maria whether God bothers with them as she does with her. And then it might be possible to ask Maria: "Are you aware of God asking anything of you in all of this? Do you and God have anything in common here?" Helping a person sort out movements within, even seemingly contradictory movements like peace and sinfulness, compassion for the poor and disbelief in God, is exactly what spiritual direction and its discernment is all about. Other examples of this sorting-out process could be given; but perhaps it is time to make some summary observations about spiritual direction and becoming a discerning person. 1. Formal spiritual direction allows someone to articulate experiences. The central element in experiences, however, is feel-ings and, ultimately, the desires associated with those feelings. All growth in the spiritual life is strongly rooted in desire, and it is from desire that commitment flows. 2. When spiritual direction is focused on discerning the inner movements, then ordinarily connections can be made, themes and tendencies become apparent, and a sense of a desirable direc-tion becomes clear. When this occurs over time, a feeling of ener-gized peace develops on the journey. This becomes evident when remarks like these are made at the end of a direction session: "You're the only one I can talk with on this level--it means a lot to me." "This has been a very insightful session today--it hangs together." "My retreat experience has become more real to me after our talking about it. Things are working out." 3. When discernment is being practiced in spiritual direc-tion, there frequently occur corrections in judgments that directees make about themselves, especially negative judgments. In other words, a positive realistic outlook about the self develops. In addition, the Achilles' heel--that blocking, negative orientation which keeps recurring--generally gets discovered, and this allows for appropriate strategies to deal with it. 4. Practicing discernment with the assistance of a spiritual director encourages a disciplined willingness to check out feel-ings, name them, and test them against reality, that is, test their Review for Religious inner rationality. In this way we discover whether our feelings and what underlies them are leading us to God and our better self, or away from God into darkness and confusion. 5. Insight alone rarely changes people. Action, or commit-ment to trying to live differently, often does change people. Hence, it is not sufficient that our discerning be merely an aware-ness. Motivated desires and even specific tasks need to follow awareness, and so it can be said that discernment and decision making work together for growth in the spiritual life. 6. From all of the above, hopefully we can see that the goal of spiritual direction is to develop a discerning person who func-tions thus outside of the spiritual-direction relationship, some-one who moves with clarity in the direction of active love. Hopefully, too, those two basic questions of the life journey: What does it all mean? and what shall I do with my love? will find bet-ter, clearer answers. Note 1 See pp. 36-37 of Michael J. O'Sullivan sJ, "Trust Your Feelings, but Use Your Head: Discernment and the Psychology of Decision Making," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 22/4 (September 1990). I have been helped in my thinking about the interrelationship of feeling and thought in discernment by this article. The Light at the End of the Year Snow has fallen. Day is dark With the early coming on of night; December's darkness fin& its only spark Of brilliance in the Christmas light. Gray as our winter lives become, and stark With harshest turns of weather, bright Is the year's blessed ending. Mark! Now the starburst at earth's Eastward height. Nancy G. Westerfield January-February 1992 55 BRIAN O'LEARY Discernment and Decision Making Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing, and perfect will (Rm 12:2). exposing the influence that a projected course of action will have on one's relationship to God in Christ. It is not, therefore, some kind of generalized awareness of God or of his presence, but an insertion into a process--the process of finding and owning the will of God or, in other words, of Christian decision making. A dis-cernment which does not lead to a decision is incomplete, has been aborted at some point along the way. When a decision has been reached, it becomes a concrete expression, an incarnation of one's desire to respond to God's love and to serve his kingdom. Personal Freedom In spite of the laudable wishes of many Christians to move away from an

Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year: $20.00 for two years¯ Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail)¯ Airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~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. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual

Issue 44.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1985. ; Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" The Community Prayer of Religious Lay Associate Programs Volume 44 Number 2 ° March/April, 1985 R Evmw ~:OR R r:LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. R~:vl~:w FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EV~EW FOR R ELtG~OUS. Composed, printed and manufffctured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Editor Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Associate Editor Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. " Review Editor Richard A. Hill, S.J. Contributing Editor Jean Read Assistant Editor March/April, 1985 Volume 44 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REvl~:w voR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. " Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R EVlEW FOR R ELIG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 lAndeR Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Transformations in Religious Commitment .Patricia Wittberg, S. C. Sister Wittberg teaches sociology at The College of Woosier; Wooster, OH 44691. Her previous article in these pages was "Sociology and Religious Life: Call for a New Integration" (Novem-ber/ December, 1983). It has long been obvious that the post-Vatican II period of experimentation and renewal has been marked by .a precipitous decline in the numbers of religious men and women--reflected both in fewer entrants and in a massive exodus of current members. Some observers have attributed this to the perni-cious effects of the reforms themselves,t others to the failure 6f congregations to enact even more reforms, or to enact them more quickly.2 Which of these assessments is more accurate has recently resurfaced as a point of debate, for the shrinkage of communities and their increasing median age were specifically Cited by Pope John Paul II as reasons for the current study of American religious. In this article I hope to explore the role of group commitment mechanisms in the retention or loss of members in religious orders. Two concepts which will be useful in this endeavor are "intentional com-munity" and "association." An intentional community may be defined as a group of persons living together on a more or less permanent basis, who voluntarily surrender control Over some choices which are normally considered private (the focus and means of sexual expressio.n, choice and schedialing of. work, property ownership;and so forth) for the sake of establishing a whole new way of life. Intentional communities call for more commitment than do. other groups, demanding the investment of one's self as well as one's resources of time, money and talents. This investment, ideally, is not shared with other competing organizations, but belongs to the intentional community alone. In contrast, an association is a group of persons who have invested a certain 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 amount of their resources in the attainment of some common goal or Objec-tive, but who retain more personal autonomy and competing loyalties than would be possible in an intentional community.3 It is the contention of this article that some religious cong~regations--or at least a portion of their members--are moving from an intentional community model of group commitment to an associational one. This transition involves a fundamental change in the character of those religious orders that attempt it, and an examination of what this transformation entails is, therefore, essential. As an aid in our research, we might apply several very good sociological investigations of intentional communities such as the nineteenth-century Shakers and the Oneida Community, or the Bruderhof, a twentieth-century Hutterite group in New York.4 Which of these groups made similar transitions from intentional communities to associations? What happened to them after-ward? How did other intentional communities retain their original commitment structure, and what were the consequences of this retention? The Role of Common Ideology In her study of nine successful nineteenth-century communes (i.e. those that had lasted longer than one generation), Rosabeth Moss Kanter listed the problems that an intentional community must resolve in° order to survive. Steps have to be 'taken to insure that the work necessary for economic self-suf-ficiency (gr.owing food, making craft items for sale, and so forth) is done, that decisions are made to everyones' satisfaction, that close,.f~lfilling and non-ex-clusive relationships are established among members, that new members are recruited and socialized, and that individual uniqueness and autonomy are expressed in a way not destructive to the unity of the group. The self-renuncia-tion involved in these tasks raises the possibility that some individuals will be tempted to withdraw from the community if its demands get to be "too much." To avoid this danger, the members must be encouraged to share a common ideology or world myth that would make them want to subordinate their personal interests to those of the community as a whole.S Once internalized, the group's cosmic myth infuses all of a member's actions with meaning and directs them toward the common goals: I feel that if I have overcome my tendency to return an angry word when a Brother has spokento me, I have resisted the evil spirit. 1 have struck a blow for winning back part of the universe for God Almighty.6 In general, those who study intentional communities agree that groups which are able to maintain their common world view will survive, while those which fail to do so will disappear. The profusion of competing ideologies in twentieth-century America makes this especially difficu!t. As long as the .origi-nal founder of the group is ~alive, his or her charismatic presence, may be enough to maintain the cosmic myth. Howex~er, the founder may lose this charisma over the course of the years, or may die. Intentional communities that are successful in weathering the crisis of their founder's death or fall from Transformations in Religious Commitment / 163 grace are those which have evolved additional, supplementary techniques to foster their sustaining ideology. These usuall~ include common ritual and traditions, common work and recreational activities, boundary maintenance, self-renunciation and sacrifice. Common Ritual and Traditions Sociologists since Durkheim have recognized the importance of ritual celebrations in uniting a social group. As Kant'er expressed it: These rituals both express and reinforce jointly-held values, and represent ways ~f coming together as a group, of feeling closer to One another. For this reason, group rituals are often the most significant and important aspect of community life to members, for it is here that the higher, transcendent meaning of living in utopia is affirmed .7 Successful intentional communities evolved a set of rituals around almost every event: All important occasions in the Bruderhof are marked by a love meal .The dining room tables are arranged in a horseshoe, spread with white tablecloths and specially decorated; the dining room is lit by candles . Everyone gathers outside before the meal. TheY sing songs and walk into the room together.8 Pentecost. is especially important . A huge fire is lit which is the symbol of the burning up of the old and the hope of the coming of the new? These rituals ma~ enact the central aspects of the communal ideology, or they may have more seemingly trivial meanings. The important thing is that, by the regular and frequent group performance of the ritual, the underlying ideology which gives meaning to, the entirety of group life is reaffirmed. Togetherness in Work and Play It is also necessary that the members of an intentional community become emotionally attached to each other as though they were members of one family. Indeed, as Kanter remarks, family terminology such as "Brother" or "Sister" is Often deliberately used to refer to one's fellow group members,t° The development of this familial attachment is facilitated in many groups by requiring that everyone work together at the same limited number of tasks, rather than allowing members to leave daily for eight hours or' more of work outside the community. Common recreational activities also strengthen group family bonds: Perhaps the most memorable thing about the Bruderhof is the singing . There is a song for every mood, every event, every occasion. There are winter songs~ summer songs, morning songs, evening songs, folk songs, love sofi,,gs, birthday songs and wan-dering songs . The singing itself is beautiful and mowng, with effortless three- or four-part harmony on every song.t~ Eating the main meal, or all the meals, ~ogether can also serve a unifying purpose. As would be the case with any family, the more frequent and all-encom-passing the contact among group members, the more intense their mutual 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 attachment is likely to be. Intentional communities that are scattered over several locations must get together very often in order to keep their union alive, Zablocki remarks that the three American Bruderhofs both visited and inter-changed residents frequently, and also ran up large telephone bills in calls from one hof to another. A reverse side to this emphasis on family style unity ~equires that steps be taken to root out particularistic attachments which might otherwise lead to division within the group. Historically, monogamous marriage has been a barrier to the full unity of an intentional community, for it establishes compet-ing loyalties in the members. As both Kanter and Coser point out, intentional communities have usually encouraged either celibacy or promiscuity as alter-natives.~ 2 Another frequently used tactic is to discourage "too-close" friendships that shut out the rest of the members. Boundary Maintenance In addition to building up feelings ,of mutual attachment among members and ritualizing the group's unifying myth, care must also be taken to'isolate the community from those aspects of American society which embody competing ideas, attachments and values. Limitations are accordingly established on con-tacts with butsiders (including, especially, non-group parents and siblings of members). In the Bruderhof, most members rarely left the community, and even television watching was done infrequently:" ~ Great care is taken to see to it that the children never h.ear visitors, delivery men or other outsiders say a dirty word. Play with neighborhood children is discouraged. The adult members seldom retain membership in any outside organization, and at one time even their mail was censored and their newspapers and magazines were checked for objec-tionable material which was clipped out,t3 A sense of we/they is deliberately fostered, and the community is Often tbld that it represents a higher, purer way of life which must not be polluted by contact with the uninitiated. ~ An effective way of reinforcing the distinction between in-gro~]p and out-gi'oup is the wearing of distinctive clothes by community members?4 Still another is their development of a distinctive vocabulary to refer to particular activities or at'titudes?5 Finally, it is a good idea if the intentional community can become as "'institutionally complete'~ as possible, so that it depends very little on the outside world for goods and services. This is especially true in the area of education. Many intentional communities attempt to educate the children of their members in separate schools, in order to keep them from any polluting contact with the dutside world: Adult members who desire to add to their education may be forbidden to do so, or limited as to the institutions they are permitted to attend. The Death and Rebirth of the Self A powerful technique for internalizing the world view of an. intentional community is to die to one's old identity and to be "reborn" into anidentity Transformations in Religious Commitment conferred by the group. The Bruderhof novice is. isolated from his past and from his distinctive roles in the out-side world. A woman with psychological training was criticized every time she discussed Something in psychological terms: She was told that this was going to be a major barrier for her to overcome. She was also not allowed to have very much contact with a Sister who had gone to graduate school with her. A woman with an exceptionally beautiful voice was in the habit of bursting into song while sitting alone out of doors or at work. The community made her stop this in order to chastize her ego . Weakening the identity is furthered by the deprivation of choice . The commu-nity decides for [the member] what work he shall do. He has, at least after taking the novitiate, no money of his own. He must ask even for simple necessities like toothpa, ste =. or shampoo.!6 This loss of identity begins ~vith the new member's assumption of his/her guilt and individual worthlessness, often helped along by required self-criticism sessions. Once their old identities are renounced, the individuals receive their entire status and a new sense of worth through the group. A member may, in s6me groups, even receive a new name as a symbol of his/her'new self. With this new source of status and sense of self-worth; as Kanter states, one's self-esteem-depends on unswerving commitment to the norms and values of the gl'OUp.17 Sacrifice A final activity which can be used to deepen a group's commitment to its underlying ideology is to require some sort of sacrifice, When living out the intentional community's world view requires the renunciation of sex .or personal adornment and the adoption of a generally austere lifestyle, the value and sacredness of the cosmic myth is enhanced.18 Members actually find a great deal of joy in undergoing the privations, and often miss them when life becomes easier: That was one of my ti'oubles, giving up clothing. Certain skirts. One velvet skirt 1 had [laughing] oh, how 1 loved that velvet skirt! [Q~ Why did you have to give it up?] Well . we were made to feel., that you shouldn't want something particularly pretty and that looked well on you, that compliments you. This was pride . In order to belike God would wish you to be, you would give up these things. Well, 1 remember 1 struggled withthis and finally one day I was able to march over with a few of these things and my velvet skirt. And I just felt, when I expressed this to [the Housemothers] they rejoiced with me.~9 The Latent Danger in Successful Survival Mechanisms While the five~ mechanisms described above do strengthen the common ideology that had first drawn the members together, they can sometimes become so successful in themselves that the original vision becomes,secondary. The traumatic prospect of !osing all of one's friends may .be sufficient to persuade a doubting member to remain in the community even if he/she no longer ascribes to its worldview. The common pooling of economic goods may strongly discourage a member who has had no occasion for the personal use of money for years from leaving and having to find a self-supporting job.29 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 Others, who have not read a newspaper or watched television for several years, may remain in the community because they feel unable to, cope with the unfamiliar outside world.2! Thus, with the passage of time, it may be debatable whether members truly believe in the founder's worldview, or whether they remain because they fear what would happen to them if the~ left~ To avoid this loss of fervor, attempts may be made to rekindle the primal emotional commitment to the group's worldview. Many sociologists have pointed out, however, that unity based solely on emotional feelings is noto-riously ephemeral. Most groups tend either to evolve into a cornmunity based primarily on socially-integrative mechanisms, or else gradually to relax into a looser association in which "members regain virtually full personal autonomy and the commune becomes a cooperative venture in support of its members' individual self-interests. Many of these latter types last for two or three decades, but rarely are they able to produce a second generation."~2 Reflections and Applications The research quoted above has obvious implications for religious life. The integrating mechanisms used by the successful communal experiments strongly resemble certain practices followed, today and in the past; by many religious communities. Furthermore, sociologists who have studied intentional com-munities stress that such value-reinforcing techniques are indispensable if a group's unique world view is to be preserved in the face of the competing values of American pluralistic society. Religious congregations who wish to remain intentional communities without the aid of common ritual, the limita-tion of members' apostolates; boundary maintenance and sacrifice are doomed to failure. Use of these techniques, however, risks the usurpation of the cosmic myth itself. This paper began by contending that some religious communities are responding to this dilemma by abandoning the model of the intentional com-munity altogether and moving toward the less-demanding "associational" model of commitment. Individual religious today often work and live sepa-rately, and come together only periodically foi- prayer or discussion meetings. Whereas intentional religious communities had to adhere to geographical lim-itations in order to preserve their unity (with congregations restricting their members to a particular diocese or a given set of schools or hospitals), the looser associations might be based on some common interest (e.g., social justice, nuclear disarmament, or charismatic prayer forms.) Models for this might be groups such as Pax Christi or NARW, whose members are'.building links of mutual acquaintance that span the continent. Future historians of religious life may see this movement toward association as a radical redefinition, led by the Spirit, of what "religious life" means. Such redefinitions are not new to the Church. Each of the major traditions of religious spirituality--the Benedictine monastics in the fifth century, the mendicant orders in the twelfth, the Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity in the. Enlightenment era--are the Tkansformations in Religious Commitment results of similar communal adaptations to.societal changes not addressed by previous forms of religious life.23 In this way, the Holy Spirit moves and breathes in the Church, and the trend toward looser associations in place of intentional communities can simply reflect the results of prayerful discernment of God's call to a new dimension of service. As was the case in other times of redefinition, the new wine may not fit in the old wine skins. If a congregation chooses the associational model of commitment, therefore, it is necessary to reexamine what, if anything, the evangelical counsels would mean in this new context. Opening the group's membership to married couples may be feasible, since the competing loyalties of marriage would not be as detrimental to these new, less-demanding associations as they had been to the more intense forms of communal living. In fact, since the newer types of association will not provide the emrtional ties and feelings of familial attach-ment which the intentional community had, more and more of the original members may welcome the opportunity to marry and yet to remain in the congregation. The vow of poverty would then have to be reevaluated in the light of providing for members' children, or if members were expected to rent their own apartments and keep their own bank accounts. The congregation would also have a lessened mandate to require obedience from individuals who had competing job or family obligations. With their unifying worldview less carefully shielded from outside influences, members, might refuse to " comply with requests from the congregation, if these infringed excessively .upon their own freedom. There are several dangers in choosing a less intense type of communal commitment. The congregation will risk breaking up completely as its members are distracted by new loyalties: as Zablocki pointed out, few such organizations survive more than two or three decades:22 Also, Canon law (and the I.R.S. !) may not consider these new forms of community living to be tr~uly religious life. The legal ramifications of this have to be explored by both civil and canon lawyers. Loss of tax-exempt status may imperil some of an associa-tion's ministries; loss of canonical status may result in less support'from the institutional Church. Another extremely important question is whether or not an association of religious will be perceived as essentially different from groups devoted to transcendental meditation or saving the whales. Potential members may well question why they shouldbother joining at all, should the association cease to present a distinctive witness to the rest of American society. Finally, an association will not serve as the sole, or even principal, provider of the affilia-tive needs of many of its members: as mentioned above, combining marriage and membership may be the more desired option. For a woman religious over forty, hrwever, the "freedom" of association members to marry may seem a cruel joke in a society where an unbalanced sex ratio and the attraction of men to youngei~ women renders the likelihood of her marriage extremely improba-ble. 24 To compensate for the emotional closeness which her former intentional community can no longer offer her in its new associational form, such women 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 may find themselves clinging to family members for support, or, :increasingly, isolated and alone, In the face of the dangers of associational commitment, many religious may feel that there is still a place for the intentional community lifestyle in providing ministry and witness in the Church. If the research on previous intentional communities is to be believed, however, it is impossible to maintain such a lifestyle without integrating practices to strengthen the members' com-mitment. Religious orders that elect to retain or readopt the traditionM prac-tices which had so effectively united pre-Vatican communities will face their own set of dangers. The .tendency, mentioned in the preceding section, for these practices to become sufficient in themselves, and to displace the ideals they were originally designed to protect: will still exist. It was precisely this displacement, of course, which had sparked the post-Vatican movements to return to the spirituality of one's founder in the first place. In addition, prac-tices such as isolation from the outside world and self-renunciation rituals have become suspected of destroying members' personalities and mental health. Communities adopting or retaining these techniques will have to deal with charges that they are fostering immaturity, personal dependency, and other psychological ills.25 A Third Alternative Religious life appears to be trapped between the Scylla of a psychologically-destructive intentional community which tends to become an end in itself, and the Charybdis of an ultimately unstable and gradually co-opted association. A third alternative, however, may be possible. Efforts could be made to use the insights of the research quoted here in constructing integrative mechanisms more adapted to late twentieth-century American culture, taking steps to insure that these mechanisms remain valued means to maintain the founder's char-ism-- absolutely necessary in a group of s6cia!ly dependent human beings, but open to change and replacement lest they become ends in themselves. A congregation at.tempting this alternative would first of all sponsor workshops, seminars and weekends (parallel to the psychologically-oriented conferences on mid,life crisis, burnout, and so forth) which would sensitize its members to' the fundamental necessity of ritual, "common times" of togetherness, and other techniques of group unification and identity affirmation. Particularly ~successful techniques developed or discovered by onegroup might be shared with other groups within or outside the congregation. Policies would be enacted ¯ .by the General Chapter requiring that a certain minimal number of these practices be chosen and implemented by members living in a local house, a city or a region. The leadership of the congregation would need to be empowered to call to accountability those members who persist in isolating themselves from the community. The dilemma of how to avoid the disintegrating effects of diversified minis, tries--while keeping their benefits of individual personal growth and flexible T~ansformations in Religious Commitment response to social needs--would also have to be faced. Once the membership and leadership of a congregation were sensitized to the pressures and competing loyalties that inevitably devolve upon any member who accepts a remote or a nontraditional ministerial position, steps could be taken to minimize these effects. The member might be required to return to the congregation during the summer, for example, to engage in the work onlyfor a limited number of years, or to live with congregational members even if not working with them. The role of sacrifice in uniting a community may also provide possibilities for creative~exploration. Periods of congregational service, whether in leadership or in supporting roles, might be one form of sacrifice; budgetary cutbacks to support Some congregational work among the poor might be another. In any event, religious congregations which wish to remain intentional communities, and .yet avoid the traps into which such communities have fallen in the past, must develop the sociological sophistication to choose the integrating mecha-nisms most suited to their needs and those of their members. Individuals must be encouraged to study and research these techniques; degree programs and summer institutes need to be established to make this possible. Conclusion The dichotomy between intentional community and association which has been developed in this paper marks, in reality, two poles of a continuum along which' most religious communities currently exist. In the ongoing process of moving back and forth between these poles, not all bfa congregation's members are likely to agree, either on the degree of intentional community that remains appropriate for their charism and ministry, or on the customs and practices to be used in achieving it. Communities may even.decide to divide, formally or informally, into subgroups according to the intensity and style of the integrating practices they desire. Wherever on the contihuum~a congregation ultimately finds itself, to the extent that elements of an intentional community are pres-ent, mechanisms will have to be developed in order to safeguard its unity against outside pressures. To the extent that the group resembles an association, the problem of reconciling the affiliative and emotional needs of the individuals with continuing and active membership in the congregation will have to be faced. There is undoubtedly room in the American church for varieties of religious life which exhibit many different degrees of communal or associational com- " mitment. This article has argued, however, that it is extremely dangerous for the ministerial effectiveness and the very existence' of a congregation not to recognize and choose freely the type of commitment proper to its founder's charism in the late twentieth-century United States. Only by realizing and acknowledging the strength~ and weaknesses inherent in the type of commit-ment they have chosen--which presupposes that they know which one it is---can the strengths be emphasized and the weaknesses minimized. This paper is a call for the integration of previously ignored sociological insights 170 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 into the self-study of American religious communities. For some, their very survival may depend on it. NOTES ~James Hitchcock, ~Vocations Holding Up in Traditional Communities" in The Catholic Uni- ¯ verse Bulletin, Cleveland, July 6, 1984, p. 10. * 2Sara Harris, The Sister: The Changing Role of the American Nun (N.Y.: .Bobbs Merrill, 1972), pp. 137-8. 3Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (N.Y.: Free Press, 1980), Chapter 6. 4Sources for my informa[ion on these groups include the following: Rosabeth Moss Kanter, Commitment and Community (Cambridge, MA: Ha~rvard University Press, 1972), Lewis A. Coser, Greedy Institutions (N.Y.: Free Press, 1974), and Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Com-munity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980). ~Bennett M. Berger, The Survival of a Counterculture (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981), p. 124. 6Zablocki, p. 29. 7Kanter, p. 47. 8Zablocki, p. 39. 9Zabl~cki, p. 52. 10Kanter, p. 46. tlZablocki, p. 47. t2Kanter~ p. 44; Coser, p. 31. ~3Zablocki, p. 172. t4Kanter, p. 84; Zablocki, pp. 129-30. ~Kanter, p. 84; Zablocki, p. 259 ~6Zablocki, p. 250. tTKanter, p. 103. ~SKanter, p. 76. tgZablocki, p. 185. 20Kanter, p.80; Zablocki, p. 281. 2tZablocki, pp. 282-3. 22Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma, p. 289. S¢ also Herbert Schmalenbach, "The Social Category of Communion." 2JJoan Chittister;~ O.S.B., Women, Ministry and the Church (Ramsey, N J: Paulist Press, 1983) ¯ p. 28. 24Tish Sommers, "The Compounding Impact of Age on Sex,, in Ovil Rights Digest, Fall, 1974, pp. 2-9: ~sZablocki, Alienation "and Charisma, p. 325. Jonah and the Vine M. Basil Pennington, 0 C. S. 0 No stranger to these pages, Father Pennington continues to reside and write in St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. The nineteenth century was a great time for religious life. At its opening, empty and ruined cloisters stood everywhere in Europe, the fruit of the Pro-test~ nt Reformation and the French Revolution. By the end of the century not only had many of these ruins" been restored with the renewal of the ancient monastic and religious orders but many new religious institutes had come into being: With the opening of the twentieth century these institutes were stretching out to all parts of the world calling the whole human family to spiritual rebirth and renewal. Then suddenly their spirit ~ seemed to really catch on, and the King of Nineveh rose from° his throne and called all to renewal--good Pope John called down the Holy Spirit in a new Pentecost for all humankind. It was disconcerting. Not only had the institution that was to be called to renewal taki~h the lead, but the Spirit seemed to know no bounds. There was a great spiritual renewal among the other religions of the world, and soon spiritual masters from Hinduism and Buddhism were within what we once considered our enclave, calling forth our young men and women, our.prospective members. ¯ The Lord had given us our consoling vine. It shot up overnight. Remember the burgeoning novitiates after the Second World War, the great novitiate buildings we put up in the fifties and sixties--the ones that stand empty now or serve as .conference centers, or which our Buddhist and Hindu brothers and sisters have taken off our hands? Our vine was suddenly cut down. And we sir on our hill, in our little shelter (our new social security benefits?) and gnash our teeth, or we try to keep on doing what we were doing before, with little of the means and less of the fruit, because we are always more and more out-of-date. ¯ Well, not all of us, maybe, but how many of t~s? 171 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 One of the things we can note in the closing lines, of the Book of Jonah: as God calls him to universal compassion there is in him no breath of conversion. He who had called others--so successfully to conversion, himself will not convert. He sits there in his bitterness. We who have so successfully called the Church and the human family to spiritual renewal have we ourselves ~heeded the call of the Council to true spiritual renewal? Or have we just tried some "adaptations" and .now in our bitterness blame them for our present plight. The publication of the new Code of Canon Law offers us an opportunity to be again confronted, rather directly and concisely, by the message of the Second Vatican Council: a call to religious to be religious. (Religious comes from the latin word: religo, to be bound again bound again to God, most intimately.) The opening canon in the section on religious tells us that our life is for those "who follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit"; it is a life ."totally dedicated to God who is loved most of all . dedic~ited to his honor, the upbuilding of the Church and the salvation of the world" (Canon 573). It is "through charity to which the counsels lead that [we] are joined to the Church and its mystery in a special way" (Canon 573). When the code comes to speak of the obligations of religious it states first th'at "religious are to have as their highest rule of life the following of Christ as proposed in the Gospel" (.Canon 662). Then it goes on to state that "contem-plation of divine things and assiduous union with God in prayer is to be the first and foremost duty of all ~religious" (Canon 66.3). When it comes to speak about novitiate formation, it says not only that "the novices are to be led to cultivate human and Christian virtues . to be prepared to cultivate the worship of God in the Sacred Liturgy . to be instructed to read and meditate on the Sacred Scriptures" but also "to be instructed to contemplate the mystery of salvation" (Canon 652): Conte~mplative union with God is for all religious, and novices are to be effectively taught how to open their lives to the contemplative dimension of prayer and life. There was a very interesting developmen~ at the Second Vatican Council (P, ope Paul insisted constantly that the'Code of Canon Law is to be but the practical implementation of what the Spirit had said to us in the Council--a ¯ call to constant renewal). At the first session a long treatise on religious life was offered to the Council Fathers, some one hundred thirty pages. The commission was told to boil it down. They returned to the second session~with thirty five pa, ges. Again, the word was to boil it down. At the third session the Fathers found at their places a brief document of nineteen propositions, very much what we have, with a couple of added paragraphs on monastic life. This,new schema had a very long fo0tnote--almost half as long as the whole text. In this footnote the writers explained that the threefold distinction in regard to religious life that had come into common use from the teaching of Aquinas and was found even in Pius Xll's Humani generis, namely active, contemplativ~e, and Jonah and the Vine / 173 mixed, was not to be retained. There could be no such thing as a simply active religious life. All religious, by the very nature of religious consecration through religious profession, were called to contemplative union with God. Some were. to:be "mere" contemplatives." Others were called to pass on the fruits of their contemplation in apostolic ministry. This very significant shift, a real call to renewal, has been largely~ missed. The code spells it out very clearly. Will we hear? We can continue to sit apart in our pathetic little structures and bewail the fact that no one is paying any attention to us any longer, and leave renewal to ,:the laity, the hierarchy, and the clergy--and to the other religions! We can watch creative, new !ay ministries take on our former missions--in itself not a ¯ bad thing at all. We can watch our most promising youth, who really want to do something to make a difference in a world that is hell-bent on global destruction, respond to the call of the great swamis and roshis who practice what they preach, and of the new prophets who have caught the universalist vision and call for global.unification--perhapsnot such a good thing. But the reality of it all is that we, the sons and daughters of the Book, have, in the intimate revelation of God in Christ and in the empowerment of the sacred tradition and the sacramental life, so much more to bring to the human family. It will only I~e when we teach the fullness of the call of the Gospel, so powerfully re-enunciated in the Second Vatican Council, and actually live what we teach, that we will be credible and effective and attractive--in the right sense of that w.ord--again; The great progenitors of the Second Vatican Coun-cil were, first, John Henry Cardinal Newman, who reminded us that doctrine-- and all else in a living Church--keeps on developing. Hence, we cannot stop with Vatican II, but before we advance beyond it, we have at least to get what it has given us. Can we honestly say we have really absorbed the teaching of the documents of Vatican I19. Certainly I can't, and I have been working with them steadily for over twenty years! Second was Teilhard de Chardin, whose call was ~to a new level of consciousness that integrated the whole of creation, centering all in the heart of Christ; in the awesome power of Divine Love that was poured out in our hearts in the Holy Spirit who groans within us to be free to do mighty things in and through us: things of prayer and worship, things of empowerment and life. Have we heard Newman and Chardin? Are we stretching to keep develop-ing, and expanding our loving concern and our creative vision to the whole of. the human project, the divine creative project? Sad to say, not a few monasteries, not a few religious'institutes look a bit like Jonah on his hill, under his little structure, with his wilted vine lying prone across the opening. Elderly monks and religious seem to be saying: "Enough! I won't begin anew. I have done enough. Let it die with me. After all my years ¯ of service they rush on to new things and take no notice of all I have done." Maybe the younger religious don't realize it, but the charism of the com-munity, that precious gift to the Church and the human family, is incarnate in 174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 the seniors. However, can we blame the younger ones (who are often all too few or even non-existent), those in whom the call to share this same charism is awakening,if they do not see it when the seniors allow it to be hidden under the bushels of structures and attitudes that do not let its light shine forth? The Second Vatican Council, or rather the Holy Spirit speaking through the council, asked us to bring this precious heritage into confluence, or we might even say confrrntation, with the signs of the times. Sure, that is going to cause upheaval or at least unrest and some tension. But what is the alternative? To sit with Jonah in our shack and groan? Renewal .is going on among the laity. They are taking on many of the tasks and missions that ~religious have done so well. And perhaps they are even doing them more effectively in a secular world. Renewal is going on among the Eastern religions and their renewed "religious," the swamis and gurus and roshis, seem to be more effectively serving, and attracting to their ranks, the fine young people who used to enter our novitiates. (How often when standing listening to an impressive young TM teacher or an EST seminar leader or a "Moonie" who has just earned his PhD at Harvard, have I thought to myself: this young man would surely have been a Jesuit in the pre-Vatican II days.) ~ Are we going to watch all this as passive spectators, cheering it on, or worse, lamenting over it? Or are we going to be open to the spirit of Newman and Chardin, adapted to our own particular charism, a priceless gift of God to the Church, and take full part in the tremendous spiritual renewal of our times which we in,great part are responsible for inaugurating? Even if there is a wonderful spiritual renewal taking place in many corners of our society and our globe, they are still just corners. Depressing, competi-tive, greedy materialism is the rampant reality. Millions and millions still are not in touch with the spiritual dimension of their being, and know only ultimate frustration. There is plenty of work for us all. The new code says our consecrated life is to be "an outstanding sign in the Church--and beyond--foretelling the heavenly glory" (Canon 573)--giving to the human person something big enough to call him or her forth fully, and to make life truly worthwhile. This is our call. And so--what now? Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries": The Role of Provincial Superiors Today Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle has become a more frequent and influential contributor to our pages of late. The present article continues his study of government in religious communities considered under particular aspects. His earlier study, ~General Government: Its Leadership Role Today" appeared in the November/December issue of 1984. Himself a member of his congregation's General Administration, Father Arbuckle resides, and may be addressed, at their headquarters: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. ~nnovation is at the heart of survival and growth. Without innovation in response to rapidly changing conditions, human groups stagnate and die. This is true of business firms, of local and national economies. It is also true of religious ~ongregations, of provinces within the congregations.l Religious exist to serve the Church. They are to be concerned not just for the survival of their own province and congregation, but in particular they are primarily oriented to spearhead pastoral and spiritual growth within the Church. They are to be specialists in innovation: "Their whole lives are dedi-cated to God's service." Religious are to show forth "boldness of initiatives."2 In quite expressive language, the document Mutuae Relationes emphatically insists on the innovative role. of religious:~ there is need "to devise new, inge-nious, and courageous ecclesial experimrnts under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit . A responsiveness rich in creative initiative is eminently compatible with the charismatic nature of the religious life."3 Innovation is the generation, acceptance, and implementation of new ideas, pastoral methods or servibes, whatever can help develop within ourselves and in others the kingdom of God. Application and implementation are at the core of this definition; it involves the ability to change or to adapt.4 Easy enough to define innovation. But how does innovation take place? What role do major superiors, especially provincials, have in stimulating change? 175 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 This paper is an attempt to answer these questions. I propose to approach this key topic by: -summarizing recent management studies on how innovation takes place; -summarizing relevant research conclusions of applied anthropology; -applying these insights to the role of provincials within religious congre-gations. I believe provincials today face challenges,that their predecessors rarely confronted prior to Vatican II. They are called to be change-agents within their congregations; in fact, I believe the future of their congregations might well be said to rest in their hands. But, through no fault of their own, they often do not know what to do. If they do know what to do, they often do not know how to go about stimulating innovation. Japanese and American Business Cultures During the world's tough economic years after 1978, the picture on either side of the Pacific Ocean was remarkably different: soup kitchens in Detroit contrasted vividly with an apparent freedom from economic depression in Japan, where business firms exported more and mo?e the things that Ameri-cans made once upon a time. Some people almost in a fit of hysteria have called for more protectionism against the "Japanese m~nace." Saner minds, however, do not blame the Japanese or the tardiness of the American govern-ment to build trade barriers, but they blame the limitations of America's managerial culture.5 Recently I noticed a bank advertisement in O'Hare air-port, Chicago, which stated: "In Chicago, nothing takes off faster than a Good Idea." This is not as accurate as it should be, simply because the Ameri-can culture at large, and the management sub-c.ulture, are not as conducive and supportive of innovation as is the Japanese cultural system. Several man-agement experts, therefore, have concentrated their research not so much on the psychology of industry or business management, but on the anthropology of culture and culture change in relation to business action.6 By culture we mean that network of common meanings ~and values that is deeply rooted in the corisciousnessiunconsciousness of a group of people. This network gives life to distinctive structures and institutions, myths and symbols. The symbols of a people have many.meanings that are deeply real to those who share them; they give people a sense of identity, security, purpose. But since they are derived so much more from the heart than the head they are difficult for outsiders to grasp and describe. What are the significant differences b~tween the two business cultures? There are two key variables the individual or potential innovator and the group--and both are given different emphases in the two cultures. Both cul-tures stress the importance of change-agents or innova!ors, that is of people who are gifted with the "art of anticipating the need for, and of leading, productive change."7 In Japanese culture, innovators evoke change in and through the harmonious support and active participation of the ~roup. L~yalty Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 177 to one's group is a most respected personal attribute. The culture emphasizes harmony not for the purposes of maintaining the status quo but for innovation. Group leaders know this and hence concentrate less on the task of production than on thee growth of good relations, morale, value~ that support .innovators within"the group. The innovators themselves do not seek to stand outside the group; they recognize that only through the active support and participation of the group itself will the ideas be implemented) But in Western business culture, reflecting the broader culture of the society, group leaders tend to stress the productive task to the neglect, of group mainte-nance activities. Theoretically there is an assent to the need for building a supportive innovative culture, but "American managers don't quite realize that what they are creating requires a lot of energy and attention from them to sustain."9 The Western culture, and in particular the American way of life, gives vigorous support and status to independence, to being "a rugged individualist." The American West may have been built by thousands of"rugged individuals spread over the vast frontier. But millions of lone rangers employed under a few thousand cor~porate roofs may not much longer prove workable."~° In this system the rugged individual, the would-be innovator or change agent, must struggle and battle alone to prove the. value .of his or her insight. The group is assumed to have what .really adds up to a negative or opposition, role. The individual, as it were, stands outside the .group; the group is not assumed to have any substantial role in helping to stimulate the innovative idea or in participating in .its implementation. In the Japanese culture the innovative idea can tr.uly be said to be the group's, though articulated at first by a particular person; .in American, or Western cultures in general, that is not the case. The consequence for Western economies of course is unfortunate. It generally takes an extraordinarily tough individual to sustain his or her enthusiasm in the face of constant passive or open opposition. Little wonder that managerial researchers complain about the deadening restraints on innovation in Western business cultures. The firms that are notably successful today in America are precisely those where the leadership recognizes that the primary task is to clarify, articulate and insist on key values: quality goods and setA, ices,: the participation of all employees in, discovering .and supporting people who have new ideas for the maintenance of quality. This task of leadership is a tough assignment. If it fails, then the business culture becomes stagnant, oppressive of innovators and new ideas.~ So, if American (and Western) businesses are to become truly competi-tive. with, Japanese enterprises, their leaders must become and remain cultur~al revolutionaries. Then the advertisement at O'Hare airport will be accurate! Innovation and Innovators: ~nsights of Applied Anthropology . Anthropologists in general have the reputation of always aiming to preserve what is traditional. If they do take that approach, it is because the' general thrUst of socio-economic development programs, particularly in Third World 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 countries, has been in the direction of what an expert on fisheries once called "bulldozing the tropics into civilization.''~2 In the 1960s and 1970s (to a less extent) it was rare indeed for development experts to ~ake into account the fact that people are human beings and also have distinctive cultures.,The so-called experts descended as it were from on high with the "good news of develop-ment." The people had to listen "with gratitude," do what they were told and rbecome "rich and good" just like Westerners! Since so many projects have failed or are failing, there is a greater openness to turn to anthropologists to help uncover why "the good news" became "bad news," The ignorance of.the experts might have been bliss for them, but their lack of wisdom has meant immense suffering for the people, The following general conclusions have emerged from the study of anthro-pologists into the success or otherwise of development projects: 1. Changes will succeed only if they are in response to felt needs of the people. The discovery of what in fact are the real felt needs of a group of people is a long and difficult task. It is so easy for the would-be innovator to impose his own needs on people who for the sake of peace agree. I came across an example of two American volunteer development workers on a South Pacific island, who were worried by the fact that the ladies of the village had to go down a rough slope to a river to do the washing~ So, they imported cement, "convinced" the ladies that the use of the village washing tubs would be far more convenient. After the tubs had been built, the good ladies used them for one day and back they went to the river. The volunteers were annoyed, but humble enough to ask why the tubs were not used: "We like togossip about the men; If you wash at the tubs, the men will hear. Also, our backs are sore from standing at the tubs. We like to squat when we do the washing!" In order tO obtain the real felt needs, there must be lengthy and tiring dialogue based on the willingness to learn on all sides, considerable questioning and active listening by the change-agent. 2. Innovative leadership must be encouraged to emerge from within the group and be supported by the group. A girl was taken from a Fijian village and trained in the capital city in how to improve the nutrition quality of village cooking. She went .back full of enthusiasm; within a few days she was back to the old style of cooking. Why? No one in the capital thought it important to work with villagers on the spot to heip them become accepting of change and Supportive of the local innovator. The experts expected the impossible of one person. This is a critical point. Innovators or change agents are "the right people in the right place at theright time."~3 The right people are the would-be innovators because they have ideas that look beyond the established ways of doing things. By the right places we mean that the people who have to be motivated to accept the ideas are willing in fact to be motivated and to participate in implementing Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 1"/9 the ideas. The would-be innovator and the group are not to be in opposition to each other, but are to be integrated.into a team. The task of the main leader or ~main innovator--often one who holds an official position, e.g. government officer, town mayor, village chief--is precisely to help create space for individ- ' uals to "get the,power to experiment, to create, to develop to test--to inno-vate." t4 This means that a tremendous amount of time and energy must go into disposing the group to be open to change, to be positively accepting of the innovator. There is no short cut! The more the group is encouraged to become the agent of its own growth, the more in fact it will b~ sensitive to the need for the right type of innovators. Would-be innovators tend to.fall into two broad types: those who are basi-cally loners, uninterested in the group, possibly deeply bitter about being rejected by the group. Unless they can get over their spirit of excessive individ- - ualism, such people, because of personal reasons and/or the neglect by the group, can obstruct growth. There are others; however, who have been pushed to the margins of the group's life, but who still are deeply attached to the welfare of the group and who in their own way sorrow for the sense of blind conservatism and fatalism that the group expresses. These are the people that should be very specially spotted and encouraged by the main change-agent or change-catalyst. 3. Deyelopment projects are more readily successful, if there is maximum delegation and involvement within small groups. For example, I found credit unions far more successful than large-scale business co-operatives in Fiji, because the former were village-peopled based, but the latter were firmly directed from the capital city by government officials. The people felt the credit unions .were theirs; they "owned them" by participating daily in" credit union affairs, their management, direction. But, this could be done only because credit .union values of cooperation and honesty were con-stantly articulated by the official educational change-agems. And the people were called to the accountable by their own leaders on.the basis of these values. ~ 4. The innovators must not move faster than the group. The innovator can be so far out front that the people lose confidence in the project. The innovator in this case is equivalently' demanding culture changes that require too many risks for the people; identity and security are endangered. So, the people retreat to old and familiar values 'and customs. They cannot be blamed for this. They have everything to lose, but the insensitive innovator with his skills and status may have little to lose. By way of summary, there are three indisputable research conclusions: people definitely resist cultural .changes that appear to threaten their basic securities; they resist changes they do not understand and they resist changes that are being forced oti them.~6 But these conclusions all sound so logical, so obvious. Why are they so 180 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 frequently ignored, in practi~ce by even the most educated and intelligent'of people? I can pinpoint four reasons in particular. First, it is not easy for many of us to realize that all change involves in one way or another culture change, that is change in values, new security systems, and more. And culture change basically is very slow. We belong to a culture that has come to assume instant answers to instant problems! It is difficult for. us.to grasp the reality that the innovation process is a combination of technical and human or cultural factors, rather than being a purely technical or mechan-ical matter. The would-be innovator requires considerable patience and open-ness to learn just how change takes place. o Secondly, leadership is so often confused, with the use of authority. It is assumed that change can take place simply by command.For example, it was decided in the mid-1940s that Fijians should have in their villages hygenic toilets of a simple design. The word went out from London, eventually reach-ing the district British officers in rural Fiji. The fine toilets were built .by the villagers, under British direction, but not used! Officials "forgot" to involve the .villagers in a decision that concerned them. True leadership aims to evoke participation. This is-often more important than what is visibly done. Thirdly, no matter how intelligent and educated the innovator may be, if he is insensitive to the dignity of the people the project will fail. People yearn to grow as people through participation in all that concerns their lives. If they are refused the chance to participate, or if they sense the innovator is out to manipulate them by going through the motions of participation, then they will withdraw from involvement and become passiveand angry observers. When I was researching in Fiji into village development, I was frequently told by colonial officials that "Fijians simply cannot handle their own affairs.': The tragedy is that the people had been told this so often that many had come to believe it. When the credit union movement was brought to Fiji by an Ameri-can Jesuit, Marion Ganey, the people showed that the colonial officials were wrong. The people discovered that they could handle their own affairs. A major factor in this movement of self-growth for the people was the deep faith that the Jesuit expressed in the people and their potential. One Fijian in village summed up what this meant for him: "When he comes into the village, even though he cannot speak our language, we feel ten feet taller and ten .years younger!" Respect for people must spring not from fine words, but from ~the deep conviction in the heart. People sense whether it is there or not. Fourthly, would-be change-agents can fall into what really is culture shock. People when confronted with a culture that is different from their own can feel so lost that they really cannot cope. They lose all sense of judgment and may well begin by acting in a thoroughly authoritarian manner in order to cope. In brief, the findings of contemporary managerial and applied anthropology studies are the same. Innovation is the key to survival and growth. Innovation flourishes in. those cultures in which innovators and people are positively interacting and participating together in implementing the new, ideas. No mat-ter what position the potential innovator holds, e.g. manager, village chief, Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries"/ 181 government officer, church official, member of a group, to be ultimately effec-tive he or she must be imbued with a philosophy of deep respect for the .potential of the people to be masters of their own growth. As George Foster notes: ''The ethic of helping people change their culture includes knowing what the culture is. what its processes of change are. It is ~not enough to be a competent technician, morally fortified with the unquestioned assumptions of goodness of one's profession . The ethic irivolves restraint and caution in missionary zeal. It means. [being] careful not to plan for people, but to work with them in searching for realistic answers to their problems . .It means learning to be humble, to be willing to learn . It means sympathy and tolerance . It means a genuine and unselfish desire to help., in a realistic way based on full understanding of the nature of culture."17 The warning of the wise Lao-tzu centuries ago remains universally true: "As for the best leaders, the people do not notice their existence. The next best, the people .honor and praise. The next, thepeople fear; and the next, the people hat~ . When the best leader's work is done the people~say, 'We did it ourselves.'" Challenges Confronting Contemporary Provincials The Church's culture, prior to Vatican II, was highly structured and open to little change at any level. Its mission was clear and its pastoral methods were considered to be universally validono matter what culture was being evangelized. Religious congregations reflected, this type of culture. Major superiors gave clear commands, reminding people of the importance tq maintain the rules of the community. They commanded; subjects were expected to obey. Certainly they did not expect to be consulted. It was assumed that superiors knew what was right, what God wanted. But with Vatican II superiors and their fellow "religious were reminded that together they hadto s~arch to discover what God was asking of them. Pastoral methods that were once valid could no longer be considered so in a world subject to chronic change. These new emphases and values undermined t.he security and identity of the old religious-life culture. Questions replaced answers; clear and simple command~ gave way to process. Sole authority yielded to rule by committee. We know well the malaise and confusion that hit congregations and individual religious.~a The role of the contemporary provincial is an unenviable one. How can a provincial stimulate a province to accept a culture in which the religious are open to change, effectively willing to participate in change, are supportive of innovation and innovators? In order to understand the complex nature of this challenge, I will construct a "typical contemporary .province culture." I will then summarize various possible reactions on the part of~a provincial when faced with such a culture. Since we are dealing with a cultural construct or type or model, it is inevitable that there will be oversimplifications, imprecisions. Readers can make their own additions or subtractions. A Typical Province Culture -Membership is aging; few, if any, recruits. -A significant number of religious were trained under the pre-Vatican 1112 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 model in which creativity and innovation were discouraged. -A significant percentage of religious are distressed, disoriented, by the theological, pastoral and spiritual emphases following~Vatican II. -The province, in whole or in part, denies that there are real manpower crises which demand positive planning and changes. -Houses are closed; pastoral works put aside, not because of creative, forward~looking pastoral planning, but because the province has run out of manpower resources. -A significant percentage of the province is spiritually uninspired and uninspiring. -Small groups of reiigious or individuals are marginalized because of their innovative pastoral ideas and practices, or because they ask out of deep love for the Church andfor the congregation challenging questions relat-ing to renewal, or because their radical religious lifestyles are uncomfort-able. to the power forces in the province.~9 -Religious strongly support decentralization of authority and personal freedom, but do not support a corresponding accountability to major superiors and to the province. In this cultural model of course there are values and practices that are in conflict with each other. In fact, it can happen tha~ in this model many religious find little of substance that they have in common. What happens when a newly elected provincial is confronted with a province'that approximates this type? He can react in a culture-shock manner or accept the reality in an ~understanding way and, adopting the operational principles that should guide any would-be change-agent (described above), proceed to help cultivate a religious-life culture that is innovative, effectively open to change, a culture in which religious support innovation and partiCipa~te in its implementation. A brief look first at possible models of culture-shock reactions of the new provincial. Again, it is important to note that we are constructing models; it is necessary to indicate emphases rather than rounded descriptions. ' 1. The Minister Provincial: one who concentrates almost exclusively on the welfare of the individual religious; planning and animation are neglected. 2. The Administrator Provincial: one who keeps to his office desk, involv-ing himself as far as possible in paper work; ministering and animation are neglected. 3. The Preacher Provincial: one who concentrates on preaching about the need for change; planning and ministering are avoided. He has an impact on no one. 4. The Laissez-faire Provincial: he opts out of all key functions. He assumes that kind words to all will produce lasting peace. Others assert leadership by default, but it is a leadership that builds up power for some strong sections of the provinre to the detriment of weaker power ~blocks. Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 183 5. The Planner Provincial'. this is the dreamer who devises all kinds of plans for change, but avoids the nitty-gritty of organizing the imple-mentation of the plans, the hard grind of administration and the demanding task of animation and ministering to the religious of the province. 6. The Authoritarian Provinciak this is the one who assumes he can min-ister to the religious, plan, administer and animate allby himself. Refus-ing to dialogue or to delegate, he believes "it is time that religious obeyed, put their heads down and got on with the job." He may set up a variety of committees, not to hear what they say, but to get things done that he decides should be done. Given the pressures on a provincial today, we must not be surprised:if some behave in ways that approximate to one or other of these models. So great can ¯ culture-shock be that individuals may not consciously be aware of why they react in these ways. We are now in a better position to look at objectively what the functions of a provincial are today, how he or she should act in a reasoned way when confronted with the task of fostering a culture supportive of innovation. The Provincial as a Cultural Change-Agent Leadership has to do with meeting needs. Religious need a sense of spiritual purpose, they need to feel valued by fellow religious, they need to participate in decisions that affect them, they need to be stimulated to accept in an ongoing way the call toa deep union in Christ; the province has need to be cleai" as to its goals and how to realize these goals in practice, it needs a culture that is ¯ supportive of change and change agents. Provincials truly exercise leadership to the degree that they respond to these needs. We are here speaking of transformational leadership, as defined by J. M. Bums. For him: "Transform-ing leadership ultimately becomes moral in that it raises the level of human conduct and ethical aspiration for both leader and led, and thus it has a transforming effect on both."20 It is a leadership that rarely uses the authority of the office, not a leadership that moves people to act "by the sheer over-whelming magic of his personality and persuasive powers.TM The type of leadership the provincial should be exercising is described in the findings of applied anthropology given above. It is therefore a leadership that aims to help religious discover, individually ~and corporately, that they have within them-selves the power and the commitment to enter into a process of innovative change in service of the Lord and his Church. Such a provincial is "influential by strengtheningand inspiriting his audience . The leader arouses confidence in his followers. The followers feel better able to accomplish whatever goals he and.they share."~2 This is an extremely tough assignment. A provincial has several definite functions as a leader: to ministe~ in a pastoral way to the needs of individual religious, to plan for the future of the province, to administer the province by implementing the plan and to animate Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 the whole province' to be part of the planning and implementation of the corporate plan. Each function is related to each other function listed. How in practic~ are these functions to be realized so that no one function achieves a priority it should not have? I believe a provincial can fulfill the mandate to lead the province by empowering individuals and groups to use their gifts for the common good; by helping the province to discover 'its common goals; by helping the province to discover the means 0f.achieving the g0als.23 Let me explain the meaning of each of these statements: 1. ?he Empowering of Individuals and Groups ,~ Individuals and groups need to be reminded that they are called to serve the Church as committed religious, placing whatever gifts God has given them at the disposal of others; In the post-Vatican Church this is a most demanding provincial apostolate, particularly when so many religious have been personally wounded or disoriented as a result ofthe cultural changes following the Coun-cil. Tremendous patience in listening is required. Religious in fact may need specialized help if their sense of self-worth and confidence is .to be restored to them. However, the more religious are affirmed in the gifts given by God, the more they are open to participate actively in sharing their visions with others and in supporting innovation. In his visitations the provincial is also able to discover individuals who are already change-agents or potentially so. They may need affirming in their role, particularly if there is opposition to their insights~ The provincial, eventually using his authority, may then decide 'to place these change-agents in positions where these people can be the most productive. He can spot those religious who with further training are able to become change-agents, e.g. as spiritual leaders, administrators, pastoral leaders. ~ At the corporate and individual levels, he articulates the values that relate to the welfare and purpose of the province, e.g. values of'Christian service, cooperation, participation, support for innovators. This role is called the "hands-on, value-driven" approach, an apt description that religious life ani-mation should mean.24 It is a role that requires the provincial to keep challeng-ing the province, to keep 'raising awkward or difficult questions that others do not want to raise, e.g, what is the purpose of what you are doing?why are we in this particular apostolate--just because we. have always been doing it or because this is what God wants us to do because people really need it? what ideas do you have to improve the quality of your apostolate? It is not sufficient to ask the questions; he miast be on the spot, either personally or through a delegate, to hear the answers and to ,question further if the answers are not adequate. Remember, this. is the only way for the real pastoral felt needs to emerge. The more religious.are forced into responding to such questions, the more in fact they are being empowered to utilize their God-given gifts. The word forced needs to'be further explained. In order to be forced into Provincials as "'Cuhural Revolutionaries'" / 185 reacting to realities, it might well be necessary for a provincial .to cultivate in certain circumstances a "planned apostolic neglect or avoidance" of individuals or groups. Sometimes people will not respond to reality until they are forced to do so through suffering and the discovery of their own powerlessness. The discerning provincial will know just when this suffering should be permitted to occur.25 For periods of time he may become the object of considerable anger from the individuals or groups in question who keep demanding that "he solve their problems." I recall me.eting members of a credit union in one Fijian village that for several years had become inactive. They told me that for a long time they blamed outsiders for their problems. The founder, Fr: Ganey, kept away quite deliberately until the people finally realized that they were the source of their own inactivity. They expressed gratitude for the skilled neglebt on his part. Paradoxically, this is an example of the "hands-on, value-driven" type of leadership. 2. Helping the Province to Discover Common Goals . Without common goals, a religious province will break up into many competing groups, struggiing for ascendancy over one another and for:control over ever-declining manpower or financial resources. Just as the. discovery of what the province's felt needs are is a long and difficult process, so also will it be challengingto refine the common goals that relate to these needs. A provincial might be °able to discover the goals ,himself and articulate them to the whole province. Notionally the province might accept them, but in practice they will reject them for they have never had the chance to own them by participating in discovering them themselves. How are these goals to be discovered and articulated? We all know from bitter experience how chapters so frequently end up with finely worded state-ments of goals for°the province and for this or that apostolate. But, once the texts are published they are shelved and nothing happens, until the next chapter when the same procedure is adopted! Recall the anthropological insight above: projects are more readily successful if there is maximum delega-tion and involvement within small groups. If this is done in provinces and the information and experience of the groups are fed up to a chapter or provincial council, then the goals that emerge will more likely be owned by the whole province. A provincial then will use interest groups and, if necessary, foster new groups to emerge that are close to where action is taking place. Delegation is insufficient; he must keep calling them to accountability. When this process is adopted, time-consuming though it may be, individuals with innovative ideas are more likely to emerge and their insights more easily owned by the group. From the point of vie~w of a desk administrator, the approach is not particularly efficient as regards t~he use of time, but it will definitely be effective. It means, of course, that the provincial either directly or indirectly will be present to these groups, actively listening,.challenging them to see their goals and objectives in 186 / Review for Religiouy, March-April, 1985 light of wider corporate needs and goals. If he ignores them, they rightly become discouraged, bitter and angry, eventually either going their own way independent of ~he provinc.e's needs or becoming purely passive, without any interest in innovation. 3. Helping the Province to Discover the Means to Achieve Goals A province that denies it has a manpower problem, when in fact it obviously has, must be challenged to recognize this reality. I heard of one province of a congregation which expected at the very most to have three priests ordained for the coming ten years. The provincial chapter encouraged each apostolate to state their manpower needs; they did and they were accepted without question by the chapter. No one wanted to accept the fact that the total manpower requirements of the province as passed by the chapter were twenty priests beyond what the province could ever possibly field. A province that is really participating in its own growth at the grassroots would never have,reached such an unrealistic state of denying the obvious. A provin-cial will work closely with various interest and apostolic groups, challenging and planning how to achieve the goals established by the groups and by ~the province as a whole. Moreover, the provincial will aim to discover just what the criteria for manpower assessment is being used at the grassroots. For example, if the Church is defined in organizational or hierarchical terms, then low recruitment coupled with an aging membership in a clerical religious congregation is a severe crisis. On the other hand, if the Church is defined in community terms, the present search for new directions promises all kinds of possible ~theological and sociological variations in forms of ministry.26 In addition, a province in which many members have been trained to be passive, uncreative, unsupportive of innovation and innovators will have a manpower crisis that is Open to correction by a provincial. A proxiincial who has the ability so to empower religious to discover that they can be creative even in small ways and open to change will be developing resources within the province that were not able to be considered before. In brief, therefore, the provincial's task is to stimulate the province through its own discernment process to an awareness of its own resources. The criteria-- theological and otherwise--need to be spelled out and repeatedly articulated until owned by the province. They cannot be the criteria of the provincial alone. Qualities of the Provincial as Cultural Change-Agent In this paper~it has been assumed that leadership is "the process of influenc-ing the activities of an individual or a group in efforts toward goal achievement in a given situation. In essence, leadership involves accomplishing goals with and through people."27 It means that the leader is concerned about tasks, but also human relations. A provincial will need to know what the mission of the Church is, the charism and: mission of his own congregation, an understanding Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 187 of the manpower and financial resources of the province. He will need to know the theory that relates to how to stimulate the province to discover the pastoral needs of the people they exist to serve, and how to go about setting and implementing policies: If he has little knowledge of these points, he can still turn to others for help. But he cannot turn to anyone else ffr his most basic and primary skill, the skill of working with people.28 As applied anthropology points out with incisive clarity, this quality must flow out of his sensitivity to , the innate potential in every human person for responsible self-determination. This sensitivity will inevitably produce empathy, which is the ability to accept people as they are, not to condemn, but also to accept them for their potential. The response of empathy is not necessarily verbal. In fact it is primarily an internal response wherein a provincial identifies with the feelings of the province and the religious members.29 :From this sensitivity there will naturally emerge also a gift of listening, a willingness to enter into dialogue with the province and its religious at a speed that is not insulting to the dignity o.f all concerned. A provincial of this. kind is a humble person, aware of the immense riches of God's grace and power that he will discover even in the most wounded of the province's members. Ultimately, for a provincial such qualities of openness and sensitivity will be maintained, despite the considerable testing, only if his own life is centered within the heart of Christ the Servant (Mt 20:25-28). Rather than command with the authority of status and appointment, the servant: shows by example. Servants seek the free choice of those being led.30 This is the model clearly evident in the new Code of Canon Law (618): "The,authority which Superiors receive from God through the ministry of the Church is to be exercised by them in a spirit of service., i. By their reverence for the human person, they are to promote voluntary obedience, They are to listen willingly ~o their sub-jects and foster their cooperation for the good of the institute and the Church, without prejudice, however, to their authority to decide and to command What is to be done." Finally, what amount of time should a provincial give each of his functions? I believe the greatei" percentage of his time should be directed to ministering to the corporate body, that is the emphasis on planning and animating the province to become a culturesupportive of innovation and participating in innovation. I believe the ministry to individuals should occupy less time:3~ This latter is extremely demanding of energy and it can be never ending. But, it is a vital ministry that can be shared with others in the province. If a provincial is not clear as to his role, he can so easily slip into one or other of his functions to the detriment of the other duties. Conclusion A provincial is the officially appointed chief change-agent for a province. Without his vigorously stimulating leadership, it will be most unlikely that his province will become or remain innovative and creative in the service of the Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 Church. I assume throughout the article that inno~,ation in itself will not really be effective, unless it comes out of a province that is turning with renewed vitality to Christ, the Stimulant and Sustainer of all change. I also assume that there is a process of reappropriation of the founding charism, that is members of the province, reflec.ting on the needs of the world around them on the one hand, and the gospel message on. the other, have the same sense of shock at the gap between them that their founder experienced.32 However, I can almost hear a very committed provincial who is deeply disturbed by the type of problems we have listed in the model of the "typical province" above sayz "What you write sounds good, but it is from an ivory tower. I see several houses in my province that have long since served their apostolic usefulness: I know which way the province should move to touch the real needs of people. I see good-meaning people who are in fact obstructing all change. Therefore, I see the need to move fast and decisively; I will close the "houses and disperse ~he men to places of real apostolic need. One needs to be practical, not theoretical!" I fully sympathize with siach a provincial. But, in this article I claim that the most practical way of changing a culture so that it is supportive of positive innrvation, not just for the present but also for the future, is for a provincial to learn to work with people in the ways explained above. Neither people nor cultures are mechanical structures. By struggling slowly 'to enEourage innovators to develop within the culture and to be sup-ported by the culture of the province, the provincial will be acting in a thor-oughlypractical way. This is the lesson of contemporary managerial studies, of the findirigs of applied anthropology, and, of course, of a spirituality of.growth within religious life in the service of the Church. We spoke in the article of the virtues needed in this challenging role. Together, ithey could be united under one virtue--the gift of humor. A common characteristic of dictators, revolutionaries, and ecclesiastical authoritarians alike is the refusal both to laugh at themselves and to allow others to laugh at them.33 He who has a sense of spiritual humor recognizes deep in his heart that ultimately he can do nothing by himself. He needs God, he needs other people. When lie tries to do everything himself, he plays God~ And what could be funnier! ". See how the kings of the earth stand in array. He who dwells in heaven is laughing at their threats [their pride], the Lord makes light of them" (Ps 2). NOTES ~See Raymond Hostie, The l_zfe and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-sociological Approach, (Washington: Cara, 1983, pp. 276ff, and Lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz, Gertrude Foley, Thomas Giardino and Carol Lichtenberg, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (NY: The Seabury Press, 1979, p. 60 and passim. Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries"/ 189 2S.C. for Religious and Secular Institutes and S~C. for Bishops, Directives for the Mutual Relations between B~hops and Religious in the Church, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 31bid. 4See E. E. Hagen, On the Theory of Social Change: How Economic Growth Begins (London: Tavistock, 1962), pp. 88-97. 5See Rosabeth Moss Kanter, The Change Masters: Corporate Entrepreneurs at Work (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1983), pp. 17-36 and passim; William H. Davidson, The Amazing Race: Winning the Techno-rivalry with Japan (NY: John Wiley, 1984), passim. 6E.g. see R. M. Kanter, op. cit.; Terrence E. Deal and Allan A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate IDle, (Reading: Addison-Wesley, 1982); Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman, In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Compan-ies (NY: Harper & Row, 1982). 7R. M. Kanter, op. cit., p. 13. 8See Richard T. Pascale and Anthony G. Athos, The Art of Japanese Management (London: Allen Lane, 1982), pp. 116-140); also Chic Nakane, Japanese Society (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1973), pp. 88f. 9R. T. Pascale and A. G. Athos, op. cit. p. 126. ~0Ibid, p. 124. ~See T. J. Peter~ and R. H. Waterman, op. cir. p. 291 and passim. nSee Lucy'Mair, Anthropology and Development (London: Macmillan, 1984), p. 13. ~3R. M. Kanter, op. cit., p. 306. ~41bid, p. 23. ~sSee Gerald A. Arbuckle "Economic and Social Development in th~ Fiji Islands through Credit Unions" in Credit Unions in the South Pacific, edited by Nell Runcie (London: University of London Press, 1969), pp. 90-108. irSee (ed) Edward H. Spicer, Human Problems in Technological Change (NY: John Wiley, 1967), p. 18 and passim; Ward Hunt Goodenough, Cooperation in Change: .An Anthropological Approach to Community Development (NY: John Wiley, 1966), passim;:William W. Biddle and Loureide J. Biddle, The Community Development Process: The Rediscovery of Local Initiative (NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965), passim. ~T Traditional Cultures: And the Impact of Technological Change (NY: Harper, 1962, pp. 268f. ~sSee Gerald A. Arbuckle, "Why They Leave: Reflections of a Religious Anthropologist" in REVIEW FOR RELIrlOUS, Vol. 42, No. 6, 1983, pp. 815-826. ~gSee Evelyn M. Woodward, "On the Grim Periphery: Reflections on Marginality and Alienation~ in REVlEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ~'ol. 42, No. 5, 1983, pp. 694-711. ~ocited by T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit., p. 83. 2'David McClelland, cited by T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit., p. 84. '2David McClelland, ibid. '3See Speed B. Leas, Leadership and Conflict (Nashville: Abingdon, 1982), p. 28ff. ~4See T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit.,'pp. 279-291. ~For an analysis of "situational leadership" see Paul Hersey and Ken Blanchard, Management of "Organizational Behavior: Utilizing Human' Resources (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1982), pp~ 149-175. 26See J. Moore, "Some Aspects of the Sociology of Priesthood" in Social Studies: Irish Journal of Sociology, April 1979, p. 129; and William R. Burrows, New Ministries: TheGIobal Context (NY: Orbis, 1980), p. ll7ff. ~TSee E Hersey and K. Blanchard, op. cit., p. 84. ~sSee T. R. Batten, The Human Factor in Community Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 181. ~gSee Robert K. Greenleaf, Servant Leadership: A Journey into the Nature of Legitimate Power and Greatness (NY: Paulist, 1977), p. 20f. ~oSee Lawrence O. Richards and Clyde Hoeldtke, A Theology of Church Leadership (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982), p. 107 and passim. 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 3~See comments by Conleth Overman, Current Issues in Provincial Leadership (Washington: Cam, 1983), p. 76. 32See Finbarr B. Connolly, Religious Life: A Profile of the Future (Dublin: Reality, 19~2), pp: 10ft; Diarmuid O Murchu, The Seed Must Die." Religious Life--Survival or Extinction? (Dub-lin: Veritas, 1980), pp. 35-40 and passim. a~See Conrad Hyers, The Comic Vision and the Christian Faith: A Celebration of Life and laughter (NY: The Pilgrim Press, 1981), p. 24. Christ the Center of O.ur 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 Living the Difference: Contemplative, and Apostolic Lifestyles Marie Beha, OS.C. Sister Marie is a frequent contributor to Revieff for Religious. Her last title, "By His Wounds," appeared in the March/April, 1984 issue. Sister Marie continues to reside in the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive: Greenville, SC 29609. The letter repeated a familiar theme, "I keep wondering why you did it. Why you entered a contemplative monastery, .instead of loving and serving and praying where you were. What have you found there? What's so different about it?" 1 put the letter down and reflected again on the frequency of such inquir-ies. What db they mean? What do they say, not only about individuals, but also, and especially, about the larger picture of the future of apostolic life and the needs of His church? Those questions are much too big for me; I only ask them by way of "consciousness-raising" of you the reader. My purpose here is far more modest than any attempt to answer such questions. 1 would only like to suggest some of the ways in which monastic contemplative life differs from active; apostolic life. To do this I will tell you a story or two. They are true stories; true to my own experier~ce but also limited by it. And further limited, as are most stories, by touching only on externals. But underneath what appears lies all the .difference of attitudes and value choices. In short, my stories hope to be parables! Life in a contemplative, monastic community is a completely different kind of life: it is not active, apostolic life, with more provisions for times of prayer, silence, and so forth. Nor is it, by any means, a reliquary of pre-Vati-can 11 customs untainted by the adaptations of renewal. No, it is a completely different kind of life, a unique way of expressing the love of God and neighbor and of serving the Church which undergirds all Christian life. Let me try to illustrate some of these differences with a parable or two. 191 199/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 A Matter of Timing -, The bell ending supper-recreation had just rung and the schedule 1 had been given guided my steps toward the kitchen. The last exercises of the monastic day were: 7 p.m.: dishes; 7:30 p.m.: Night Prayer. 1 noticed that there were plenty of dishes, stacks of them. The cook had been baking, and so we had an assortment of taxing bowls and loaf trays to add to the usual array of pots and pans. I checked my watch and made some quick equations. Amount of work' to be done divided by time till Compline equals rate of speed at which dishes must be washed. It would be close timing, and 1 pitched in with more good will than skill. After several such evenings 1 began to notice something: I was the only one working at that rate of speed--to say nothing of noise level and general confusion I generated. The other sisters were quietly, peacefully, going about their usual work--at the usual rate of speed. "We'll never get finished that way!" l was right. We didn't get finished on time. Night Prayer did not start at 7:30. But I also noticed that no one else seemed disturbed, l commented on this interesting phenomenon to another sister. She was surprised. She cor-rected my schedule to read: "Night Prayer after dishes?" She also challenged my thinking: "What's the hurry? Where are you going?" Not Counting the Cost My second story could be titled, "Quantity: a Further Qualification?' A generous benefactor had endowed the monastery with bushel upon bushel of Eeaches, all needing almost immediate attention, it was "All hands report to the kitchen" for several days of hard work, punctuated only by the regular rhythm of the Office. At the end of several very full days that, with the community refreshed by peaches served in any number of creative ways, we finally got the remainder of the fruit stored away intb jars. It was with a feeling of genuine accomplish-ment. that I asked the~sister in charge, "How many quarts did we can?" Again that startled !ook. "How many? 1 have no idea, sister; I never thought to count but 1 can if you want me to." Obligingly she did and reported next day. But 1 could see that she remained puzzled by my interest so ! observed, "You hadn't counted them before, had you?" "Oh, no; we just do as many as we can. How many doesn't make any real .difference, does it?" Well, does it? 1 had more thinking to do. 1 could very well imagine any number of people answering that question with a rousing affirmative: "Of course!" Again I computed my answer, based on previous life-experience. Price per jar is the product of outlay for raw materials times the .number of hours needed to produce the finished product. ! pursued my line of thinking a bit further and calculated the cost of our seVeral :days of labor. Evenat minimum wages those were expensive peaches! I didn't see how we could afford such luxuries, I reported my findings .back to the sister of whom I had made my previous inquiry. 1 could see from the expression on her face that she found my analysis Living the Difference / 193 puzzling. "But someone gave us the peaches and we had the time . " Her math went something like this: "given the peaches; given the hard work and the time," 'it all added up to total gift. There was no need for any further computation. Who Is Gifted? "Everything is grace." Everything is gift--if it is given. A visiting sister was being introduced to the community. Name followed name in bewildering rapidity uninterrupted by any qualifying phrase. Only the abbess was further identified by the job-description of her title. I could sense Our visitor"s barely suppressed desire for some functional description to distinguish one "Sister" from another "Sister," and these from still more "Sisters." I began to let my mind roam over the possibilities. You could say: "Sister X is cook right now." But next year it would be another sister's turn either to learn hbw or to manage with expertise. No matter. And "sister A is presently the laundress." A promotion, a demotion? The job meant neither. All such speculation is simply useless, l can still recall with amusement the shocked look on the face of another visitor who had: risked asking an obviously r~fined and very well-educated sister, "And what do you do?" And the sister an-swered, truthfully enough, "Oh, I'm in maintenance right now." The truth is that no amount of natural giftedness, no degree of profes-sional' preparation will ensure success as a contemplative. Accomplishment is far less important than whole-hearted effort. And in this area there are no objectivized standards, no satisfying sense of accomplishment. In a contem- ¯ plative community the most gifted are not the individuals with the most to give, but rather those who give the most of themselves. The prized "positions" are, very often, those that allow for routine repeti-tive work that can quiet the mind and open it for deeper levels of prayer~ a . "lived mantra." But newcomers to contemplative life have to discover these values disguised in the monastic staple of manual work. On the face of things, one could only agree with a new postulant whose previous career in social work had included service in a shelter workshop. On being introduced to the routine work of the altar-bread room, her classic comment was, "What a marvelous type of work this would be"for a shelter workshop." The other sisters engaged in baking and cutting and checking hosts could only enjoy their newfound classification among the "retarded." What does one's doing have to do with who one is? ~. What Do You Do All Day? This is not my favorite question. And frequent repetition has not given me any more ready an answer. Sometimes the more knowledgeable questioner will add with understandable awe--or skepticism--"Pray? Do you pray all day?" Experience has shown me that the bare recitation of the monastic schedule doesn't provide a satisfying answer. In fact, it may well obscure rather 194 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 than reveal the truth about ou~" activity and its meaning~ Only too often the next question is: "Aren't you bored?" No, certainly not. The last time I was bored was so far in the past that 1 would have to mount a sweep-and-search operation to discover it. If the dailiness of my life were not. rich and full 1 would leave and try another style of living, one that offered the possibilities of more interesting avenues of escape! Granted, the e~ternals of the monastic day do have a certain fixed struc-ture to them. From Easter to Thanksgiving and through the New Year, the regularly recurring Hours of the Liturgy spell out continuous praise. Breakfast on Christmas morning will be celebrated in the same silence that prevails at the beginning of any "ordinary" day. So too the gathering peace of a Fourth-of- July evening after Night Prayer will be just as quiet as that of any other completed day. All of which does not rule out celebration. On the contrary, the liturgy of monastic life requires celebration. Unfortunately, it is easier to explain the staples of monastic scheduling than to present the nuances of silent celebrat-ing~ So let me try another story. It was watermelon season in the South, and our garden had produced a superabundance "pressed down and running over" with additional benefactions from other fortunate gardeners. After a full morning of grass mowing I came into choir at noon,:grateful for Midday Prayer's refreshing pause. Dinner routinely followed and the monastic menu had some of the same invariability: simple, nourishing food for which hunger provided most of the spice and sauce: the main dish would be several vegeta-bles completed by fruit for dessert. This day, once again, there were generous slices of cold watermelon. Now I'll confess, watermelon is not my favorite fruit. But as I sat down in silence, .giving thanks by opening myself to enjoyment, l suddenly found myself alive to the deep down goodness of--watermelon! Nothing had ever tasted so good. And another eucharist was celebrated. So what do contemplatives do all day? They celebrate the ordinary and enjoy its giftedness. Routine simply stabilizes their capacity for wonder. Lei-sure opens their work,to prayer and regular periods of formal prayer prevent work from becoming its own taskmaster. Bored? Never. There is too much challenge in the being/doing that is living. "But;" l hear you ask: "what's the living for?" Is Seeing Believing or Is Believing Seeing? If the bottom line of any loving is faith's free assent, then contemplative life can only be sustained in a faith that believes even when there is'nothing to show or even to see for oneself. And it's such blindness that illuminates everything and makes it all worthwhile in redemption's economy. To illustrate with another story or two. 1 had to make a trip to another monastery and ! was laying out my preliminary plans for this unusual venture with the abbess. Would | fly? Or Lt'ving the Difference / 195 take the bus? Sister replied that she would prefer I took the plane: it would be worth the extra expense. I heard her caring, and I appreciated its typical concern. But when next we spoke 1 shared with her the details of my further research on the subject of the. bus and its costs, all carefully detailed and worked out. The abbess stopped me halfway. "But, Sister, I already told you l would prefer thht you fly." That grounded me for a while. She commended my original initiative and recognized my desire to go the way of the poor. "Yet 'He became obedient'; that is what redemption is all about." Many years later I am still struggling to learn and to live in that mystery, believing that a surrender which is adult and free makes whole a world still fragmented by original disobedience. Such simple obedience is only part of the faith story. The contemplative expression of poverty, celibacy, community all take "believing" for their true "seeing." Most of the time, in my experience, all that is visible is the effort required to live out faith's assent, but sometimes understanding is given--that one may believe. Another story. The sign propped up on the refectory table amid the potato salad and the cottage cheese indicated one more national tragedy. "Mrs. S. just called. X has been shot. Please pray." My supper was seasoned by some speculation: Who had done it? And why?--the inevitable, incredulous "why". Later on that evening, when 1 found myself drawn, back to the choir to pray, those samb questions still formed the backdrop of my inarticulate presence before Him. Then, slowly, my prayer became more expressive, not so much with words as with life experience. Who had done it? Not ~them," "out there." No, I had done it. I was involved, deeply so. I was guilty. "Why?" 1 felt the surge of frustration, anger, hatred boil over within me and reach out for revenge, l was there. It was my choice to feel, to know--and to bring it all with me, in me, to Him. l stayed on in the choir in darkness, l could see why l was there, why l am here~ Ultimately it is only faith that makes the difference. So if I were to respond to my original letter of inquiry with a counter-ques-tion, 1 might well ask: "What do you consider Worth a whole life's giving'?" The richness of multiple-choice answers to that question is what completes our world and opens it to the ever fuller coming of His kingdom. The contemplative response is spelled out in a structured leisure that works hard without the sustaining drive of competitive accomplishment. It is a style of life that appreciates individual giving over personal giftedness, that values the simplest of contributed services. A contemplative is constantly surprised by beauty in the ordinary and learns to celebrate it in the language of sameness. The reconciliation of obedience with initiative and eager participa-tion with a .life that deliberately stands apart, these are some of the other paradoxes of contemplative, monastic life. So the stories go. There are many, many more--as .many as there are contemplatives and communities living out their life's faith in values that are expressed with a difference. :Spiritual Direction Frank Wallace, S.J. Father Wallace is engaged in retreat work at the Campion College Retreat Centre (Campion College; 99 Studley Park Road; KEW, Victoria, 3101). Prior to that he had been Tertian Instructor for his province. Pastoral care is a term that covers the work of many helpers whose roles may at times oVerlap, yet are specifically different. There is the parent who nurtures, the teacher who instructs, the religious superior who rules a com-munity, the confessor whose specific function is to convey sacramental for-giveness, the counselor who helps the client get in touch with his or her feelings, helps remove blocks, assists in decision making and psychological growth. And there is the spiritual° director, whose specific function is to facilitate the .encounter between God and the directee; so also do confessors, religious superiors, and perhaps, too, the other.helpers. Yet the spiritual director has a distinctive, specific function, which is emerging ever more clearly.' The Role of the Spiritual Director ~' The experience of most older religious today is that the spiritual director (or spiritual father, as he was often called) was someone you consulted about problems, distractions in prayer, and who helped you in those areas. With the growth in prayerfulness and the awareness of the need for guidance, lest we may "fall off the mountain," with the increasing popularity of directed retreats and houses of prayer, with the work of depth psychology, ,the role of the spiritual director is .seen to be more than problem solving. It is concerned very much with growth in prayer. The spiritual director has been called God's usher and so is one who helps the directee to become more aware of God coming, of God present,,.by being with the directee as he or she is opening up to God's love. Spiritual directing belongs properly, to the opening to,the Sp!rit. As Alan Jones says, spiritual direction is worship, adoration, waiting on God (Explor- Spiritual Direction / 197 ing Spiritual Direction, p. 56). At times, the spiritual director may have recourse to a psychological coun-selor or, if skilled, act as counselor, to assist inthe psychological growth of the directee, because psychological growth and spiritual growth are related, though not synonymous (see Dr. Gillian Straker, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 38, 1979). There may be distorted images of .God, of self, of prayer, that are blocking the encounter with God and which need correcting for that encounter to take place. In this, however, the spiritual director will not lose sight of the relationship with God as the focus of his or her caring. The valuable work of the counselor in helping the directee to be in touch with his or her feelings and to acc'ept the real self, facilitates the journey to a real God, by means of real communication. So often this experience, to borrow the title of one of Morton Kelsey's books, is reaching for the real, and necessary for growth in spiritual freedom. ~ The spiritual director walks with the directee, who shares his or her prayer experiences, and together they discern what is happening. At the very heart of spiritual direction is discernment, which, in its. full meaning adds a deeper dimension to counseling, as we shall see later. The Rules for the Discernment of Spirits are a valuable cdntribution by Ignatius 'Loyola~to spiritual directing. The Directory of 1591 compares the director to a midwife. Hugo Rahner says of this: "This somewhat remarkable compa'rison of the director tO a 'midwife' is in itself an introduction to that great patristic theme of the 'birth of God in men's hearts,' which the great psychologists and~experts on human nature among the l~athers saw as a.time of internal conflict, during which considerable importance must be attached to the discernment of spirits" (Ignatius the Theologian, p. 140). Recently a friend, who is a mother and who had been directed by me in a retreat, and who had never heard of the 1591 Directgry, wrote to me, andwith her permission I quote: "I rather think you are like a midwife--assisting those in the throes of labor--knowing the birth is to eternal life.We don't see the birth--only the struggle. I know once I reached the stage of b.eing able to push, it wasn't nearly so bad .and .nobody could do the pushing for me. But getting to that pushing stage,was greatly helped by understanding midwives who helped me to know what was happening and where I was at. They encouraged, dispelled fears, transferred confidence, lifted sagging spirits, soothed and cossetted and bullied me throughout." That is as good a description of a spiritual director as I have come across, and it certainly opened up for me the validity of the 1591 image of midwife. Any serious entry into one's spiritual life may cause a great "agitation. of spirits,." as Ignatius Loyola and Peter Favre both said. The director needs to be very encouraging and reassuring, be willing to share the helplessness and pain. Convinced that any experience can be creative Qr destructive, he or she will be ready to encourage at times of fear, discouragement, disappointment. Encour- "191~ [ Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 agement is, perhaps, the most significant help that the director gives. Linked with this is enlightenment, so that the directee sees what is happen-ing, discovers the hidden God or new ways o.f praying. Enlightenment does not mean telling the directee what to do, playing God in his or her life, imposing the director's experience on the directee. The director should be a mirror for the directee to look into, a sounding board to bounce off ideas, a companion of hop, e and !ight. ' In the following model interview we note the encouragement and enlighten-ment ,offered by the director: Director: You have been telling me about, your prayer with Jesus in the garden, and said you were disappointed. What were you disap-pointed about, Mary? Retreatant: I was just fighting distractions all the time. I couldn't slay with the Lord, and I wanted to comfort him. Director: You really wanted to comfort him? That desire is surely from the Spirit, wouldn't you say? Retreatant: I suppose so, yet I really l~eel I let him down. Diredtor: Do you think the Lord is disappointed in you? Retreatant: Well, I didn't do much for him. Director: Have you asked the Lord whether he was disappointed in you? Retreatant: No, but he must be, surely. Director: Could you go to him and ask him? Only he can tell you. your disappointment is real and it is important to find out more about it. So speak to him about this feeling of letting him down. Retreatant: D6 you think this will he!p? Director: I believe it will. And I also hope you haven't forgotten about that desire to comfort him. That's the result of his power at work in you. Retreatant: That's. ~right, I did want to comfort him. So I mustn't be all wrong. Director: Well, talk it over with him. Here the director is trying to encourage and bring the retreatant to the Lord. No doubt he or she will discuss at some time the retreatant's concept of prayer, the handling of distractions, and will direct attention to the Lord's experience of pain in the garden. These are areas arising from the interview about which both must seek further enlightenment. The director will have noted how the retreatant tends to focus on the negative and forget the positive. But haste is made slowly. The Context of Spiritual Direction The context of spiritual directing varies, and so do the people seeking. There is the spiritual direction proper to a retreat. If the retreat is fully directed, the dialogue will be very much centering on the prayer experiences shared. Of course, there will be references to out-of-retreat life, but usually the focus is on the retreat prayer. Sometimes the retreat may be "semi-guided," characterized by one or two talks to the group, and the opportunity to talk with a director. In Spiritual Direction / 199 that context there seems to be less discussion of the individual, distinctive prayer movement, because the situation is not as intense. So in these two retreat contexts we see some variation. Outside of retreat there may be ongoing spiritual direction, characterized by regular, frequent interviews, extending over a year or longer. This will mean discussion of daily life experiences as well as the prayer experience. Often this means that the director moves into a counselor's role, although the dialogue about prayer and God should not be overlooked. There may be the kind of directing relationship that calls for interviews only occasionally during the year, as a kind of "accountability checkup," with the opportunity to talk over one's spiritual life made available at these meetings. Finally, a spiritual director may be sought out in a crisis situation, either because he or she is recommended, or because the alternative of seeking a counselor, psychologist, psychiatrist is too alarming, Although the expectancies and the dialogue in all these cases will vary, the spiritual director, qua director, will focus on relationship with God--though in differing ways, according to the directee's needs. Gerald G. May summarizes the role of the spiritual director very succinctly when he describes it as "a pointing of direction; a 'setting of environment, a sharing of oneself, and a deep attentiveness"( Pilgrimage Home, p. 23, Paulist Press, 1979). Some Qualities in a Good Spiritual Director Ordination, of itself, does not gift the priest to be a spi~tual director. Today we are seeing lay people °and nuns exercising this ministry; and doing so successfully. What are the qualities needed? Love The director must be able to relate to people, to love people, to be free to feel warm to them and to receive their warmth. Morton T. Kelsey in Caring, writes well of this and says: "It is impossible for us to love other people unless we listen to them . The kind of listening I am talking about is listening which does not judge or evaluate" (p. 67). It is the quality of the listening that shows whether you are .loving the person, deeply interested in him or her, listening to know and accept, not to change, judge; evaluate. It is a listening that respects the distance and the difference of the other, a listening that patiently waits for the revelation of the other, a listening that can lay aside personal agendas because of ~he absorption in the other. It is a warmth, however, that is not possessive, that allows the other the freedom to be his or her own person. In The Practice of Spiritual Direction, Barry and Connolly speak of the need to have a "surplus of warmth" (pp. 126-130). They mean "a love for a variety of people, warts and. moles and all," which is characterized by com-mitment, the effort to understand, and spontaneity. The director must be free 200 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 to be his or her own person, not seeking to satisfy emotional needs through the directee, nor imiaosing agenda or experiences on the other. Nor must the director lay fidse expectations on himself or herself by trying to play God in the other's life as a solver of that person's problems. He or she listens so fully that he or she "enters into the skin" of the directee. This demands generous love because it leads into compassion which is shared helplessness, shared pain. It means beifig able to stay with the other no matter how hard that is, losing yourself in the other. Clearly we are not talking hire of sentimental attachments, but love as understood by St. Ignatius in the Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love. Sensitivity, courtesy, gentleness, reverence, patience are all quali-ties that fill'out the love the director must have for the directee, plus a willing-ness to accept silence: He/she is responsible to the directee, but not for. The quality of our responding reveals how we are listening. If there is no response, the directee may not have the sense of being heard, and, as Gerard Egan says, that is "hollow listening." Listening with the head only leads to judgment and just as the directee wants to be heard, so also does he or she want to be accepted, not judged. "Don't worry about that. You have no need to feel that way," as first responses are passing judgments, and reflections on the directee. What he or she wants is to be accepted, and this is experienced through responding with understanding. "I see that is very worrying. You must have been very hurt," and so forth. As the director listens with full absorption, the understanding will deepen, so that the sources of the feelings will be seen. When judged opportune, the director may communicate that deeper under-standing. The goal of listening is total listening, responding from the heart, not merely from the head. Gerard Egan writes well of listening and responding in You and Me. Total listening means listening with one's eyes, ears, head, heart so that one is lost in the other. It is contemplative listening, which hears what is not said, which hears the tone of anxiety, sees the expression of joy or worry, enjoys being with the other, and communicates that: "You are the only person in my world just now." The genuine love we are speaking of is marked by utter honesty and openness with the directee. So there can be no pretense, no bluffing by the director, but a transparent, open love. Brutal harshness and'severity have no part in this honest trust, even though sometimes they are mistaken for it. If there is to be confrontation it is important that~ this come from love, and be seen to come from love. Setting up "win/lose" situations tomes from a desire to Be right, not from love. As the directee experiences being trustbd by the director, so he or she is encouraged to trust the director with that precious "hidden self" that Paul writes of in Ephesians 3:14-21. All this will facilitate a genuine encounter between persons and with God, not just a mask meeting a mask. Sensitivity to the mystery of the other is the soil in which intimate relationships grow. The director needs to be comfortable with mystery, whether it is the mystery of God, of the directee, of self, so that there is this growth in sensitivity. Spiritual Direction / 201 There must, then, be patience to wait on the directee, on God. It is a great temptation to push sometimes, and this must be resisted, for, as Ignatius Loyola teaches, the Lbrd chooses to deal directly with the soul, and the director must not get in the way of this meeting. Simone Weil spoke of "waiting patiently, but with expectation, for the coming of the Lord." As the example of the midwife reminds us, it is only the ,mother who pushes, not the midwife. Dr. Jack Dominian describes this love as sustaining, healing and promoting "growth (Tablet, 14 May, 1983). Toial listening is sustaining because it conveys to the other that you care. A responding that clarifies, confirms and ~ffirms the goodness of the'other, not reinforcing the badness they see, and which" can help open the directee to God's personal love, is healing and promotes growth. There is little growth without pain. Wounded people can be frightened by the love offeredand may lash out in their fear, challenging the sincerity ofthe love offered. The director must be willing to stay in there,"sh~ring the hurt and the helplessness. That~ is compassion, shared helplessness, and the director shares in the growth of the directee as they walk together' in the mystery of pain_ and healing. We are all wounded healers if we are close to Christ. Mary could stand by the cross, sharing the helplessness of JesuS, without moving away because she could "do nothing" for him. At times the directoi-'s role is just to be a presence, helping transform helplessness into strong hope, not hopelessness (2 Co 12:7-10). This can be very difficult and painful, because the more love we bring to a situation, the more vulnerable we are. Peter tried to come between Jesus and his cross because he loved Jesus. Later he learned it was a false kind of Io~e, that was directed more at himself than at Jesus. So, the director may feel deeply the pain of the other and wish to come between the directee and Calvary. Dr. Dominian is not exaggerating when he writes: ~For anyone of us to succeed in loving, we have to suffer, and die a thousand deaths. Here is the encounter between grace and nature at its most powerful" ( Tablet 14 May, 1983¢p. 446). Directors who have stayed with directees in their Gethsemanes will agree. Feelings and Affectivity . The director needs to be aware of the importance of feelings. They are messages to ourselves about ourselves and we are diminished when we do not listen to them. The relationships.between the director and directee, as .between both and God, are deepen.ed as there is a growing .awar¢ness of the feeling responses present, and a sharing of them. ,. Feelings, by Willard Gaylin M.D. (Ballantine Books, N.Y.) and Feeling and Healing Your Emotions, by Conrad Baars M.D. (Logos) are helpful books. Baars speaks of humane and utilitarian emotions, directing attention to the psychic energy emotions release. ., Barry and Connolly speak of Anger, Deep Fears, Warmth.and "l:enderness, and Sexual Feelings, as very strong, deep feelings that people experience. There must be no blaming the other for one's feelings, for feelings are deeply 902 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 personal and must be personally owned. So the director encourages the directee to reveal such deep feelings to God also. Some may be prepared to reveal their so-called good feelings but not those they judge to be negative, e.g. anger. Or they may be willing to share anger (because it is becoming acceptable) but not strong sexual feelings they might be experiencing. Authentic prayer, though, is not a performance. It is an encounter with God, possible only when I am truly myself, One should be on guard against an exaggerated emphasis on anger which can be a cover up for less acceptable feelings as, for example, .sexual feelings. And it seems to have become rather common for persons to blame parents, school, Chur~ch~ their religious congregations for their present unacceptable state. Withotlt wishing to deny the influence all .these have, I wish to stress that our feelings are our ow9, and blaming others is both false and harmful. It is a sign of growing maturity when we accept responsibility for. our now lives. So .often we discover that the feelings that surface in prayer reveal the concept the directee hasof God. Hannah Hurnard in The Hearing Heart tells that for long she could not pray to Jesus, only to the Father. She was afraid of approaching Jesus lest he ask something hard of her. This would indicate that JesuS seemed to her excessively demanding. She was healed of this distortion, and could then pray to him. So a retreatant might pray to Jesus as God, but not as Man; she feels safe that way because she is frightened of men. Yet that fear is hindering an intimate relationship with Jesus, keeping him distant. Somebody else might pray to a God whois infinitely powerful, holy--and also infinitely distant, impersonal. Could such a person':experience that God really care~, is deeply fond of him or her? Perhaps what we see here is a fear of intimacy. The affectivity of the person includes the will, which besides being'an executive faculty, is also a loving faculty. The affective act of the will, "I love you," e~presses the basic desire for the well-being, the continued existence, of the beloved. Besides the will, our affective life also includes our feelings. These~are what I call the surface responses--sad, mad, glad, scared. There is alsoa deeper level of affectivity where dwells our faith, hope, love, peace, which one is aware 6f even though sensible "feeling signs" are missing. For example, a directee may speak of aridity in prayer, and yet there is the longing to pray, together with the awareness of an underlying deep peace. When John of the Cross speaks of the signs for moving prayer into contempla-tion, he is alerting us to these deeper levels of our affectivity. Discernment Thespiritual director is a walking contradiction, in that he or she isto be a "Competent incompetent" as someone has: said. The director must be incompe-. tent, because it is God's work at issue, God's. power that gives the increase (2 Cb 12:7-10; 1 Co 2:1-5). So, we must~tru~t ih God's power at work in the °Spiritual Direction / 203 director and in the directee, "doing infinitely more than he can ask or imagine" (Ep ~:14-21. This attitude must be continually growing and relied upon. But the director also must be. competent, skilled in total listening and in discet:nment. It is the discernment of spirits that is at the heart of.spiritual direction and which ultimately differentiates it from counseling. Ignatius Loyola and Peter Favre were good directors because they were both skilled in dis-cet: nment. As with them, so with the modern director, this skill is learned by being attentive to one's own responses--thoughts, feelings, behavior. Reflect-ing upon these experiences, for instance, the director will begin to observe their beginning, their middle and their end. Thus he or she begins to distinguish movements which are from God, movements authored by self, and move-ments stemming from forces outside, whether good, neutral or bad. The spirit-ual director learns from the movements in his or her own life the skills of discernment. Rarely are things black and white. Sifting tlie good and the bad, the wheat and the tares, is.a gift from the Spirit. The matter for discernment is the actual experiences revealed by the directee. Together, the director and directee prayerfully reflect upon these experiences to distinguish what is God-wards from wtiat is not. The directee, for example, may speak of a "peace-filled prayer." Nrt all peace, however is from the Good Spirit. Some is the result of achievement, some the accompaniment of a tranquil environment, some is the false peace of complacenc~,, and some truly i~ God's gift. What is this "peace" before us now? What are its fruits, and is it enduring? How does it measure with the packet group of Galatians 5:22-24? Humbly, patiently; both director and directee wait upon the Sp!rit to reveal the truth. Perhaps disappointment is reveaied in h sessio_n with the director. "Whom are you disappointed in? What are you disappointed about?" Following through on the answers offered can be richly rewarding, and can point the way in which the Spirit is guiding the direcl~ee. There are many writings about the discernment of spirits to help ,the director. A good knowledge of the Rules ~iven in the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola is most helpful. Jules Toner has published a Commentary on these Rules for the Discernment of Spirits. This° is the fullest and deepest treatment I have read. Chapter 10 of Fessard's ~fe in Faith and Freedom, Michael Buckley in the Way Supplement 20, Harvey Egan in "The Spiritual Exercises and the Ignatian Mystical Horizon," the Memoriale of Blessed

Issue 35.6 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; ,,,,llllili,,,~,iililli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1976 Volume 35 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVXEW yon RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw voa RELICIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at $4th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Theological Reflection Donald J. Keefe, S.J. Father Keefe, on the faculty of the Department of Theological Studies; St. Louis University; St. Louis, MO 63103, has been a frequent reviewer in these pages. Presently he is on sabbatical leave and is residing in the Jesuit Community; Fordham Univer-sity; Bronx, NY 10458. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church, co-authored by Andrew Greeley, William McCready and Kathleen McCourt (Sheed and Ward, 1976) has attained a prominence in religious publication ,which is perhaps comparable to that of Hans~ Kiing's In[allible? An Inquiry. Their common success fol-lows a common formula: each purports to present a scholarly basis for a radical criticism of the institutional Church. Each is underwritten by a prominent figure in the Catholic world, Consequently, each has~a political significance which is independent of the intrinsic merits of its critique. Each has been given instant notoriety in th.e popular press and each, in its fashion, is symptomatic of what seems to be a pervasive dissatisfaction within Cath-olic academic circles regarding what are felt to be inappropriate responses of the Church to the contemporary world. Finally, each reflects a similar impatience with the "official" ecclesiology, one which understands the Church as "the sacramental sign of the Kingdom of God: KiJng's rejection of this ecclesiology, long since explicitl does not concern us here. Rather we are coficerned with the ecclesiology implicit in Catholic Schools in a De- ,clining Church, particularly insofar as this bears upon Greeley's judgment that the encyclical,.Humanae Vitae, is simply a disaster. Greeley's salient theological conclusion is that, by reason of a funda-mental failure in communication, the official Church, though, revivified by the reforms of Vatican II, has, in the publication of Humanae Vitae, entered 801 802 / Review ]or Religious,: Volume 35, 1976/6 upon a suicidal rejection of 'its own reality-in-history by rejecting the morality of artificial contraception; and this despite the fact that~ the greater part of the Catholi6 people find no impropriety in such practices. Certain normative presuppositions undergird Greeley's conclusion: .1 ) The Catholic Church is as fit a subject for sociological analysis as any other social .entity. It is quite as permeable to this kind of scrutiny'as, for example, would be the Democratic Party. 2) The actual meaning of events, as these occur in the history of the Church, is that meaning which this kind of investigation reveals. Thus, for example, an event is "disastrous" when its effects, as measured by sociolog-ical criteria, are found to be destructive. These presuppositions are merely expressions of the demand for auton-omy which every intellectual inquiry, regardless of its object, makes as a matter of course. Every science is in search of the unity of truth. The syn-thetic or conclusion-reaching aspect of any science is no more than an expression of confidence in the power of its own method to integrate into a comprehensive understanding all the scattered data which its inquiry un-covers. There.is a kind of arrogance associated with any disciplined attempt to understand, for it supposes an ability to transcend, to dominate, ultimately to comprehend its object. Such intellectual self-sufficiency at a naive level raises no particular theological difficulties. But when it is given sophisticated expression as a method O[ knowledge, it can become an ideology, one which would pretend to offer a comprehensive criterion of truth and reality that would be analogous to, and necessarily competitive with the Christian faith itself. Such methodologies in fact become ideological when they refuse to admit the existence of any truth, of any reality beyond their grasp. They become ideological when they place prior limits upon-what can be "known," upon what can be "true." Over the centuries of the Church's history, such ideological convictions have continually troubled the faith of its community. Such convictions have been woven out of the tangled threads of rabbinical Judaism, of the Medi-terranean mystery religions, of the He~llenistic philogophies which were contemporaneous with the early Church. With the dawn of the Middle Ages, the first introduction of Aristotle)~ logic prbvided a new challenge to the faith. In the late Renaissance, there was a c~omparableenthu~iasm for yet another powerful intellectual resource: "scientific method," with its ac-companying mathematics, began to be exalted as the ~nique mode of .access to certitude. By the end o~ the eighteenth century, this confidence had waned. The Romantic period then found in the humanistic study of history and in nascent sociology a new key to the human enigma. Truth is no longer to be r~garded as something "out there." Rather it is seen as the proper Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 1~03 achievement of human societies in history--a history which is fundamentally in human hands, open to human analysis and exhaustive comprehension. This, too, fed the formation of ideologies. Common to all such ways of knowing iS the problem of their "conver-sion." The value ofthese works of human intelligence is enormous, in-dispensable. How can they be conformed to the Catholic faith, enter into a Catholic intellectuality? The claim that they cannot be. so conformed is still heard, both from those who too much love and from those who too much fear the new learning. For those who love too much, such a conversion would put an end to the "autonomy of science." For those who "too much fear," such a conVersion would end by relativizing the faith. Perhaps the simplest reply to such claims is to point out their futility. The objection that the "conversion" of an otherwise autonomous method of scientific inquiry would write finis to its independence rests upon an outdated notion of scientific method, the philosophical roots of which were undercut by Kant.~The intrinsic dilemmas of this method were demon-strated half a century ago by Heisenberg's0principle of indetermination. In point of fact, Descartes' dream of a universal science remains a dream, a dream tied to a time now remote. In our day, it survives only as an ideology of a peculiarly old-fashioned sort, kept alive' largely by social engineers' such as B. F. Skinner with his form of determinism. In such hands, this ideology becomes a kind of salvation, scheme by which the unpredictability, the enigmatic character of historical humanity is remedied by the elimina-tion of those human attributes which permit the emergence of historical' novelty: freedom and personal responsibility. The reduction of humanity to fungible integers thus finally makes possible a mathematically accurate calculus and control of the human. Such an ideology is really nothing more than eighteenth-century,Enlight-enment optimism, which wasn't even taken seriously by its own proponents. They wouldn't dream of submitting themselves to this~kind of salvation-scheme. Yet it is precisely in the. proliferation of ~such salvation-schemes that there comes,to be most clearly evident scientific method's need for a radication in a faith which transcends it. On the other hand, the point of view we indicated above as that which fears the relativizing of faith by any application to it of a free inquiry has its exemplars in the long line of rigofists who have always been present in the,Church. First there were the Judaizers of whom Paul complains. There was Marcion in the next century, Tertullian in the third. There have been the ever-present battalions of "hypertraditionalists," those who fear that a free future must :be open to~ sin and corruption, and would, on that account, foreclose the.History of Salvation in the name of salvation itself, 'quite as would their counterparts, the social, engineers. But their historical pessimism is the less excusable because the faith they are zealous to defend 804 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 is precisely a faith in the Lord of History whose creation is good and whose presence in. the world makes its history to be salvific. It is then as illusory for the scientist to fear the conversion of his methodology to the service of the Catholic faith as it is perverse for the committed Cathblic unduly to°fear the scientific inquiry which such a .con-version would unleash. Still, the mutuality of science and. of the Catholic faith is easier to envisage than it is to achieve. While the sunny confidence in a salvation-to- be-wrought-by-reason has waned somewhat since the age of optimism that was' ended in the blo~d,soaked fields at Verdun and. the Somme in World War ~, the practitioners of the social sciences, however mindful they ¯ be of the oft-cited perils of "Helleriization," still tend, to be less than troubled by the demonic potential of~their own saeculum, by the resistance of their own cultural commonplace--scientific method t6 conVersion. Not a little of this resistance is the fruit of the recognition by Vatican II that the world is not alienated from the concerns of the Church. Indeed, the autonomy of the secular in its own realm is there explicitly stated, bring-ing with it the enfranchisement of the scholar to do his work without con-cern for received opinions among churchme.n in regard to matters which are properly within his province. In Vatican II, historical and social re-search were liberated from all pious dishonesty. Catholic confidence in the ultimate goodness of fallen historicity required no less. " Since that time, Catholics have become accustomed, as they were not before the Council, to a view of an historical Church "with warts on." For many, perhaps for most,~ this new outlook was traumatic. Accustomed hitherto to think of the Church in terms of such attributes as militancy, witness, inerrancy, historical unity and the like, they were suddenly con-fronted by the countering of these commonplaces with other assertions of the Church's' documented cowardliness, conformism, error, division and so on. Indeed, these wer, e not seldom presented as conclusive refutations of the traditional faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church: More, and worse, these charges had a kind of ecclesial warrant--the "spirit of Vatican II." This spirit more and more often found expression in terms, of an active antagonism to the Catholic past. In particular, the validity of tradition and of the authority of the Church were challenged in the heretofore sacrosanct realm of sexuality. In this realm scarcely any element of the Church's faith or practice was without its learned opposition. In its opposition, argument rested not on historical research--for the.con-stancy of the moral tradition was quite clear--but upon what was con-sidered to be "the religious insignificance" of sexuality. From the vantage point of modern psychology and sociology, Catholic emphasis upon the sacramentality of sex, which found expression in the condemnation of certain sexual practices as being immoral, in the prohibition of clerical marriage, Catholic Schools in a Declining Church." A Reflection / 805 and of the ordination of women, was viewed as simply mistaken. Sociology and psychology were thought to provide a sufficient explanation for the origin of these, rules and 'condemmitions, while at the same time, these same disciplines,seemedzunable to find any present justification for con-tinuing such norms. Underlying such. conclusions was the presupposition that "whatever can be given a secular explanation must be so explained." Of course, this is a denial of the sacramental'significance of historical humanity. It represents a retrogression to thht .primitive mentality which .identifies religion~ with magic. In this' way,~, all holiness, all religious value~in the everyday, non-marvelous, commonplace human life in the world comes to be ignored. In such a circumstance, the Church has nothing to say to this~world; for the Church is seen to exist ,only~to provide :illusion for a dwindling clientele. Whoever would challenge the Churchqn such terms really cannot expect a heating' .The Church must~refuse the postulates of.iany science-become-idei~ logy. (3riticis .ms of the Church based on the validity-of such postulates do not bear upon reality. ,They leave .no common ground fore discussion. The authenticity of the Church's teaching and practice does not--and can~ notqwait upon certification from any secular tribunal. Greeley, oin his critique, like Kting, fo~-gets ,this, ~though not to, the point of the latter's explicit denial of the Church's sacramental and causal' relationship to the fulfilled Kingdom of God., Rather, Greeley~ simply does not advert to it. Still, the net effect'is the same.~When the Church is treated for purposes of the laboratory as' merely*an empirical datum, its sacramental character is ignored. The laboratory is not concerned with the truth and effectiveness of a sacramental sign. Yet the Chur~h,~can be understooddn her reality only insofar as he'r history is aqknowledged to, be the~uniquely effective sacra-mental instrument through which humanity, regardless of its historical di-versity, its contention and sin, is~ ultimately redeemed from its fallenness and raised to fulfillment by the.Lord of History.°tf this sacramental reality is not admitted at the outset, the,~Church becomes something debatable, a matter for dispute,, bringing us back to the format of what is, .after all, an obsolete apologetic: a profitless debate over the Church"s worthiness and/or unworthiness. In Catholic'. Schools in a De'clining Church, the worthiness/ finworthiness preoccupation is' mdni[est: the-Church-as-worthy is~,seen to be the-Church-as-popular. ,: ¯ ~- And yet, if it qs right to be wary of an ecclesiology which w~ould, sub-mit the Church to some .sup'erior academic wisdom, it would be quite an-other thing to conclude that the., Church need not respond .to criticisms which the academy cannot but, offer it. Conversation _between the two, however, can take place only where there is a foreswearing of,funda-mentalism On the one hand_and of doctrinaire scientism on the other. Only thus could there, come" into being a common universe of discourse. Necessarily~,ifivolved in this is a recognition by the Church that its doc- 806 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 trine is given historical utterance for the sake of beginning new discussion quite as much as for the sake of punctuating an antecedent one. Necessarily involved is a recognition by the scientist that, when .all his data are collated, the inferences they support must be_ framed as questions, and as problems, not as doctrine in competition with the faith. It is by no means easy to preserve the conditions for such an exchange. Good will is, only the first of these. Ultimately the demand of such condi-tions is met by the recognition of what is actually taking place in such_a conversatibn. It represents an interchange between the faith of the Church and the questing reason of its members '(,which is called theology). It repre-sents the transformation of an otherwise purely secular scientific interest, a transformation imperated by its application to the Revelation.which is given in Christ.In this application, a given discipline accepts as the object of its inquiry a reality whose truth cannot be utterly controlled by its methodology, which it can only approach in a posture which is fundamentally one of worship. When .this attitude of worship fails, the exaggerated claim bf autonomy is thereby taken up again, and the transcendence~ of the Church's truth, of its faith, is rejected out of hand for the sake of "truly scientific objectivity." When such a rejection is misunderstood by'th~ Catholic faithful, when it is presumed to be normative for the scholarly enterprise, the opposite extreme becomes unavoidable: the sacramental holiness of the world and the historical character of the worship of the Church are equally sup: pressed. And the conversation which was originally ambitioned disintegrates into mutual recrimination. The changes rung on this theme are indefinitely numerous. In sum,. they preface and. finally constitute an aversion for the historical faith of the Catholic community in favor of those alternatives whose name is legion. All of this has been remarked sufficiently over the centuries. In the abstract, it is easy enough to see the need for a mutuality between Church and academy, but the realization of such a mutuality is continually im-peded byo the fallenness which mars us all. We are, all and. always in the sway of the~emptation to revert to a pessimistic status quo ante in terms of which the revealed compatibility of God and man, of the Church and the world; of faith and reason can be shown to be absurd, a fiction that is unworthy of man and derisory of God. Thisois a universal failing: It is no more characteristic of the academy than 'of the cloister, of the chancery than of the market. In either case, reductively we are seeking to denature God's good creation by rationalizing and objectifying its sacramental truth and unity.~By such devices we frag-ment our world: We trivialize and compartmentalize our world into isolated bits. And this becomes prelude for dismissing from our lives~ actual his-torical meaning, its sacramentality, the holiness of its totality. Whether done in the name of an ecclesial or a secular piety, what is Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 807 achieved is a flight from the threatening mystery of our historical existence, from our need to be sustained in it by the Lord of History, and from our share in the crucifixion by which it is redeemed. Thus is worked out some very bad theolggy--and not only by theologians, but by anyone who pre-scinds, from the sacramental structure of reality for the sake of judging reality. A sociological examination 6f the Church simply cannot avoid at least an implicit theological component. If, .supposing it to have been clearly affirmed, an equation were to be drawn between the Catholic Church and the Aristotelian "perfect society," an explicit ecclesiology--however wrong-headed--- necessarily follows. If, on the other hand, one omits any definition of the Church, but then proceeds to analyze it precisely in the same way as one would analyze the United Mine Workers or ,the Democratic Party or the Marine Corps, in other words as an empirical organization of people, a group adequately understood as responsive to the laws which govern all social organization-- then the ecclesiology involved is. perhaps less explicit, but no less operative. In either case, the Church is measured by categories which are quite extrinsic to the worship which gives it its structure. The result for that older theology was a Church whose "perfection" was in contradiction to its involvement in the fallenness of history resulting in an antiseptic notion of a Church apparently immune to history. Comparable (if inverted) distortions in our own time profess to find the Church's patent~involvement in sin a fact entirely incompatible with its claim to transcendent sacramental stature. The contemporary excesses of this "low" ecclesiology are quite as responsive to the'preoccupations of its own day as had been the earlier baroque triumphalism--and with as little profit. The living Church cannot be understood by the use of devices which would separate its history from its meaning thiough a denial of either part of its reality. It is of course possible to concede these truisms and still resist their corollary: that the Church of .our daily encounter, with its monumental confusion, cowardice, ignorance and complacency--in sum, with all the ills the spirit is heir :to--can be and is the earthly community in which the risen Christ is present and active in the outpouring of his Spirit. Surely one may attend with sympathy Dr. Robinson's "but I can't be-lieve that!" Particularly is.it hard to give to such a.Church a cash value by admitting, even demanding, an infallible Magisterium'. Such notions, it may seem, were perhaps credible before the dawn of historical consciousness. But they can hardly survive our contemporary understanding of the social and historical conditioning of the Church. This~is indeed a very possible conclusion--especially if we forget that it is precisely from this kind of despair of the temporal and human as being the medium bf God's presence that humanity was lifted by the faith, first Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 of the Jews, and then of ourselves who are their heirs, in theJdord of History who is present to hiss, people. He is present to his people not as a timeless and universal principle,, but in his Covenant, by which alone time has unity and significance, and thus is history: sacramental time. The salvific content of the events of which we are a part is quite as hard to accept today as it was at Meribah. It is indeed hard to believe that the concrete deeds and words of the Church across the .ages constitute the unique mediation of the risen Lord, for the Church is so obviously trapped, blinded, sullied and fragmented by its own historicity, by its own involve-ment in Sin. But precisely such a belief is integral with the Catholic faith. It is simply not negotiable. It is no news that there has been a developing reluctance within Catholic academic circles to give full value to the ecclesial-historical character of our redemption in Christ. This hesitation on the part of the acaderhy had focused on the Church's assertion of ,doctrinal unity and authority. But it has since broadened its front to the. extent that tradition itself is held to be discon~ tinuous within its own history, whether we are dealing with the. historical unity of the Church's doctrine or its moral or liturgical tradition. Thus it is deemed to be discontinuous within its own history, intrinsically incoherent, without value or~significance~ for the present time. In,sum, the unity of the Church has no historical expression, according to this view. Consequently the historical record, whether doctrinal, moral 'or liturgical~ is of purely academic interest. It lacks the necessary unity to support its claim to sacra-mental significance. The heart of this argument, of course, is the ancient conviction of the incompatibil.ity of'~God and man, heaven and earth, the present time and the egchatological golden age of fulfillment. Its pseudo-Christian version, Gnostic in its roots, denies that the community Of sinners; which constitutes the Church, can be the effedtive symbol, the sacrament of the fulfilled King-dom of God. This denial relies upon the perceived incongruity between the sacramental sign, whichLis ~the historical Church, .,and the effect claimed for it: the completed and fulfilled redemption of humanity in Christ. It was the mistake of' the Counter-Reformation apologetic to contest this visible incongruity, even though it is simply indisputable. To pretend the contrary leaves the apologete open to all the sacred dishonesty which characterizes a triumphalist reading of Church history. It is .not.because the Church is Worthy that she is "the sacrament of our encounter with God." It is by virtue of the presence of the risen Christ in her historical worship that the Church has her reality and her mission, not by virtue of her own probity, nor by any "works" of her own devising. It is this insight, fundamental to any valid ecclesiology, which demands Of the Catholic scholar a subordination, of his critical method to~the prior truth of his faith together with~ a surrender o of an~y delusory intellectual Catholic Sch~ools in a Declining Church." ,4 Reflection / 809, autonomy. In this 'way, while maintaining as its object, the full sacramental reality of the historical Church, the scholar's inquiry also retains intact its full integrity. The radical consequence of a refusal or of a failure in this subordina~ tion of method is the equivalent methodological reduction of the ev~nt~ of the Church's history to merely empirical significance, and the: dissolu-tion of ~the sacramental value of these events. ,At such a point, any. re, sistance to this dissolution ~must then be accounted unscientific, irrational, unrealistic, benighted. Such resistance fails to justify itself before the court of scientific reason whose writ runs as ,.far as the mind may range. In such a context, when the Church, as the object of this kind of "scien-tific" scrutiny, claims, e.g., for its traditional sexual morality a trans-empirical and sacramental value, it is challenged to make manifest the .worthiness of its doctrine for the salvific role asserted for it~and,.of course, cannot do so. Its claim is then held .to be out of court, and. if it.is a~cepted at all, this is deemed a matter of private idiosyncracy, an affair de gustibus, not "really" true . ° In the criticism ,of Humanae l/itae presented in .:Catholic Schools in a Declining Church there is more thana little of this rationalist obscurantism. ~Instead of attempting to construct the sociological o theology which ,only Catholic.-sociologists 'are equipped to' offers,, this book provides merely a secular object of sociological investigation, a pseudo-church, one with which a secular methodology,~:may be entirely comfortable~ ~i~ This pseudo-church is' fashioned from., atoms oLempirical information gathered according to the canons of .that secular methodology. The struc-ture w~hich emerges from these atrms in their collectivity is entirely em-pirical. The resulting picture of the "church" is found, to no one's amaze-ment, to Square rather badly with the Church of Catholic tradition ~enunci-ated,, for example, in Lumen Gentium or Gaudium et Spes, and particularly with thb tradition repeated affew years later in Humanae Vitae. Among the particularly prominent discrepancies between the official Church of these documents~.and the empirical "c~hurch;' described by Greeley's team is the disrrgard on the part of.the latter of the sexual, moral, ity .~which was recently reatiirmed by Rome,. to which the Catholic hierarchy has subscribed. This, in its turn, must lead to; a dilution of that respect in which the teaching authority of the Church must'be held. ~ Greeley considers this .situation to be the result of a massive failure in communication in the. institutional Church. By reason of this, a badly informed pope came to insist, disastrously, upon a morality long since abandoned by his subjects. ~ . ~ Doubtless experts in the~fieid of his methodology will find reason to contest the adequacy of Greeiey's sampling~and analytical techniques. Per-haps they will reject the evidence of "decline" which this book infers. Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 Whether or not such deficiencies exist is not finally very important. No doubt a further examination of the data will contribute to the clarification of the structure revealed by the study and perhaps even require a recasting of previous inferences, thereby contributing to the accuracy of Greeley's findings. But no refinement of this methodology can bring it to bear upon more than an empirical entity. And when that entity is identified with the visible Church, a fundamental mistake has been made. If this mistake is insisted upon, it must lead to a rejection of the Catholic doctrine that the Church is a sacramental sign, having a significance which entirely transcends the empirical. This sign-visibility is the visibility of worship; ultimately, it is Eucharistic, the concrete historical actuality of the Eucharistic community, the visible structure of which is constituted by the sacraments of its worship. This c~mmunity, the Church, can no more be identified with the "church"~ discovered in Greeley's research than can th6 Eucharistic Lord be identified with the merely surface phenomena of the Eucharistic celebration. Such a refusal of this Catholic dbctrine of Church need be neither ex-plicit nor deliberate. In fact, this kind of rejection most frequently occurs inadvertently, when, for instance, a powerful new intellectual tool permits the achievement of results so impressive that its adepts forget that the faith transcends it, that the faith cannot be contained within it or be controlled by it. In the controversy which is bound to follow, a similar forgetfulness just as frequently afflicts their theological opponents. These, in rejecting the dominion of the new learning, tend also to ignore the possibility of its con-version, and so they, in their turn, underwrite the isolation of the Church from history. For a clear example of this, one need only recall the dispute between, the "old" theology and the "new" logic in the early Middle Ages. Such mistakes find their corrective in the conversion of the new device to the perennial task of theology, a process which, like all conversions, is always incomplete. While the sociological construct which emerges in Catholic Schools in a Declining Church' cannot be identified with the Church, it remains ~true that the people who responded to the questions of the study did so in the con-text of their actual involvement with Catholicism. If their response is to be given the kind of theological value and weight that Greeley suggests, it mtist be because the attitudes and opinions which~this survey reveals are under-stood as entering into the sign-which-is-the-Church, and therefore as an element of the visibility of the Eucharistic community and of its worship. In this c~ntext of Eucharistic worship, the reaction which Catholic Schools in a Declining Church has registered, whether .in regard to the value of°Catholic schools, to the changes introduced by Vatican II, or to Humanae Vitae, cannot be identified simply as the kind of Church consensus that Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection constitutes the sensus fidelium, the living faith of the People of God. This is because the sacramental Church is a s.ign which is contradicted. Our living of the faith is not a clear and obvious thing, but rather is rendered obscure and enigmatic by the fallenness of humanity and of the world. We daily refuse the truth of the "good" creation; and that refusal continually finds its historical expression in the community of the Church in a failure of Worship. The Church's worship has its prior antecedent structure in the sacra7 ments. These are the form of authentic human existence in fallen history, and in their unity they constitute the sole criteria of visible membership in the Church. Their truth is that of mystery, i.e., it can be appropriated only through worship. ~But by this worship it is appropriated. And over the centuries, this appropriation emerges historically in the doctrinal, moral and liturgical tradition of the Church. This appropriation is also a continual conversion and enfranchisement of the People of God. That it does not fail is due to no excellence of the Church's members, but only to the promise and presence of Christ among them, by which they continue to be the Body of Christ, one flesh with their risen Lord~ That this union does not fail is therefore a matter of faith: neither its existence, its quality, or its extension can be verified empirically. Its worship is that of a community of sinners. Essential to it is that sacra-ment of repentance and reconciliation by which sin, as a personal concrete failure of worship, is acknowledged in an~act of worship by which 'personal solidarity with the Eucharistic community is given again. ~ The fortunes of this sacrament of reconciliation over the nearly two millennia of its history record the enormous resistance offered the Christian notion of personal moral responsibility. The primitive identification of "sin" and "crime" required centuries to reform.~The subsequent' privatizing of confession and penance began so to obscure the public aspect of sin as to reduce public morality once more to a mere obedience to law. In some Catholic circles, this tendency is now .so far advanced as to include the despotic proposition that "the law to be obeyed" is simply the public law of the civil society. In this view, the Church has nothing to say in re morali beyond a loving endorsement of ~the reigning pluralistic consensus. ~ Yet it is only through an existential familarity with the antecedent, mean-ing of-the holy that sin is recognized and acknowledged to be a violation of the human, of the sacramental existence which is structured by the Church's worship. This holiness, this human integrity is sustained and measured by this worship, and 'not otherwise. Only here does a valid consensus emerge as to the meaning of good and evil. This consensus, this discovery, keeps pace with the slow, reluctant response of the People of God, of the Church in its members, to its Lord and his Gift--which is to live in Christ, in light rather than in an undemanding darkness, in freedom rather than in a comfortable 1112 / R'eview ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 conformity, in history rather than without. significance. And finally, it is to live responsibly, rather than to abdicate that honor and burden in favor of a false transcendence which knows no .crucifixion and offers rio redemption. The pace of this pilgrimage is impeded by our straggling, by our desertion, our defection toward one or other mirage.~ This history of Exodus is our history--together with its' pain. All of us who think ourselves Catholic must hope to be within that his-tory, undergoing that reformation and salvation. But we cannot guarantee ourselves to be so, whether as individualS'or as representatives of the whole. We cannot suppose our personal assessm6nt of moral right and wrong to be definitive and assured. Particularly is this the case when.the mass of Catholic Christians have not yet come to terms with the Christian meaning of free-dom; when they tend still to'suppose that whatever is not forbidden by Church law or tradition is thereby moral, or at least morally indifferent. It is only when adult Catholics recognize, their responsibility for the realization into history of the truth of Christ and consequently acknowledge in prayer the possibility of their own wilfull violation of their own human symbolism, their own sacramental and historical reality, their~own inescapably sexual existence--it is only in this circumstance that they can form a Eucharistic_ consensus on this now excruciating question of' the consistency of the sacra-mental symbolism of marriage with that symbolism which is inseparable from artificial contraception, and upon a complexus of other questions of only lesser urgency which bear upon the sacramental truth~of human sex-uality. This condition is not now met. Only when it is met can the Church speak confidently 'upon these newly disputed points. The obstacle to such utterance .now is not that the twenty years since the discovery of "the pill'-', is insufficient for mature judgment, but that even now the basis for making the judgment is not clear--as Catholic Schools in a Declining Church makes very evident~ The Second Vatican Council indeed introduced changes in the Church. But the greatest of these is the most ignored: the quiet dropping of .the obediential "morality which was typical of Catholic moralists before the Council--and which, unfortunately, remains typical~ for many of them to this day~ Conformi~, rather than responsible personal participation in the worship of the Church, is still proposed as the basis for moral decision. The book under consideration~only joins a chorus long since formed. But it is still from the authentic experience of free Eucharistic worship and its achievement of ~free historical.truth that the Church must teach; the truth of Christ is available, on no other basis. This is the only information system there is. It falters always~ but it does not fail. ~ The Small Group in Religious Life William Barber, Ph.D. Dr. Barber is Professor of. Psychology at Eastern. Washington State College in Cheney, WA 99004. He also is a consulting psychologist with ot~ces in Spokane. Earlier drafts of this article were helpfully reviewed by Paul Fitter, S.J.~ Ellen Monsees, R.S.C.J., Henri Nouwen and Leo Rock, S.J. Introduction This paper analyzes religious community groups from a behavioral science perspective. "Commu.nity" here refers to a face-to-face living group, usually comprised of fewer than a dozen persons, whose members may ormay not include co-workers in one,s ministry: The attempt is to show how a group's psychological developmeiat, as a community relates to and interacts with the work of members in their apostolic ministries. There exists a ~vell-established theological basis for "church as com-munity,".~ much of which has. developed since Vatican 11,1 and a detailed historical and sociologi.cal rationale calling for intensive, committed com-munity group relationships has been presented recently by Fitz and Cada.z Leaders of. religious communities know about and agree attitudinally with the need for establishing strong and deep group relationships. . o It is the experience of the writer in providing consultation to leaders of religious orders and to particular groups of religious, that what is not known is how to integrate into religious life the concepts and skills needed to est~ib-lish strong, dynamic groups of religious. It is hoped that What follows~offers some goidelines, drawn from the be-havioral sciences, for bridging the gap between the theoretical and "the practical aspects of group development in religious life. 1Dulles, A., Models oi the Church (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974). -"Fitz, R. L., & Cada, L. J., "The Recovery of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELI~OUS, 34, September, 1975. 813 814 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 The approach will be to describe ways in which groups differ from col-lections of individual persons, to distinguish religious communities from other kinds of groups, and to show how a religious community becomes an organi-zation for meeting the personal needs and at the same time the apostolic purposes of its members. A psychological rationale for community life is offered along with concrete suggestions for effective religious community life. Assumptions A group becomes more than a collection of individuals when all mem-bers need one another to accomplish a common task or goal. A dozen persons sunbathing near each other on a sunny beach are not a group in this sense; but if together they respond to a cry for help from a sinking swimmer they become a group as they work together on their shared.task of rescue. Once their task is completed, the group ceases to exist as a group, unless the members should decide to form an association to provide beach safety, in which case they would continue to be a group. Thus, being together doesn't define a group, even though all members have the same objective (in° this example to acquire suntans). It is when members need each other for some collective purpose; it is when they become interdependent, that they become a group? A community, such as a religious community is a special kind of: group in that it attempts to provide for more than support for the accomplishment of external tasks. A community~ is a group which attempts to meet the human and personal needs of its members as well: physical needs for food and shelter, social needs for recognition and friendship, and what Maslow calls the "ego needs''~ for meaning, and self-actualization as persons? Thus, a collectivity of individuals may become a group: a group may become a community for meeting physical, social and ego needs of members. At this highest level of motivation--the ego needs for actualization and fulfillment~it seems a religious community as a group attempts to meet another nee.d, the idiosyncratic need to develop its own "identity." And a re-ligious community's identity must be considered in relation to its ministry. Identity and ministry are like horizontal and vertical aspects of a group's religious life. The Vertical Dimension As a person needs to grow in self-knowledge, so a group becoming a community is drawn towards a deeper, more complete sense of identity. This is like a "vertical" dimension of growth--reaching down inside to ex-plore, to observe and to reflect upon the sense of '"~who we .are," and then aBass, B. M., & Nord, W., Leadership, Psychology and Organizational Behavior (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), p. 39. ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., Motivation and Personality (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954). The, Small Group in Religious LiIe / 815 to come back up to the surface to test and to listen to what is being said in response. What do we mean by the discovery of identity? We mean finding out., real desires and characteristics . . . and being able to live in a way that expresses them. You learn to be authentic, to be honest in the sense of allowing your behavior and your speech to be the true and spontaneous expression of your inner feelings.~ Community identity then becomes established through sharing informa-tio~ n" in response to the question 'Who are we'?" More specifically this means generating information from the senses, the emotions, the intellect, and from the spirit for those who believe in a faith dimension to life. Transactions that provide such information for a community have to do with interper-sonal exchange: Who are we for each other? What do we want from each other? What will we offer to each other? These questions are continually asked and responded to, as persons tyy to moye from being a "group" to becoming a "community." As these questions are asked and responded to, "data"--i.e., information about thoughts, feelings, wishes are made avail-able for sharing, and thereby become integrated into the processes of decision and choice. Research indicates that more data from members produce higher quality decisions and greater member commitment to carrying them out.~ The Horizontal Dimension Identity needs to be expressed in life outside the community group; it needs to be expressed in apostolic ministry. This is like a horizontal dimen-sion of growth reaching out, listening openly and reflectively and respond-ing to what one is called upon to do and be with others. In the words of Maslow: Part of le~arning who you are, part of being able to hear your inner voices, is discovering what it is you want to do with your life. Finding one's identity is almost synonymous with finding one's career, revealing the altar on which one will sacrifice oneself,r As there are points of diminishing return in gains from individual per-sonal growth experiences s.uch as psychotherapy or encounter groups, so too are there limits to the gains to be expected from a religious community's developmental experiences--those aimed at developing a group's identity dimension. Community relationships and activities have as their raison d'6tre the support of tasks that further the work of apostolic ministry. It is analogous " to a couple's love for on'e another, in that their relationship, their "com- ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., The Farther Reaches o] Human Nature (New York: Viking Press, 1971), p. 183. GKelIy, H. H., & Thibault, J. W., ',Group Problem Solving," in Lindzey, G. & Aron-son, E. (eds.), Handbook o] Social Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1969), pp. 61-88. rThe Farther Reaches, p. 185. 816 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 munity" in a sense, requires expression in accomplishing goals-~having and raising children, for example--in addition to developing the affective rela-tionship that draws and keeps them together. Such a relationship needs manifest expression in order to continue to grow. This does not mean each aspect of community life requires direct con-nection to members' ministries. On the contrary, support is often drawn from interludes from "tasks": activities of recreation, distraction and apparent irrele(,ance. It is important to remember the purpose for which the support is given: that is, the rationale and the dyna.mic force for religious community comes from the shared commitment of members to thee values and goals underlying their collective ministries. As such, community identity is incom-plete without outward expression; small group religious life is incomplete without being related to apostolic ministry for purpose and direction. Similarly, ministry needs cbmmunity. Ministry needs community: (1) to provi~le a support system for sharing, helping, caring; i.e., for providing "maintenance" for the work of ministry, and (2) to provide for the personal development of members for their own sake, apart ~'rom apostolic work roles. "For their own sake" must not be taken lightly. The intrinsic dignity and value of each person's humanity calls for emotional connection to sig-nificant others. This need, this expectation, can be responded to by persons who commit themselves to one another in community life In summary, it seems that religious community groups work on two "agendas"---one vertical, the 6ther horizontal--and these become interde-pendent. Work on the vertical (e.g., listening, sharing; and more systematic-ally at times, team building or role clarification interventions)~ allows the group and each member more to offer on the horizofftal, in ministries. ' Work on the horizontal, the ministries, enables the con~munity to insert it-self into the world. It brings the world through members' experience into the community in order (l) to infuse ndw life, (2) to offer new direction, and (3) to provide standards for evaluating effectiveness of effort. The result is a dynamic system in which energy and creative r~sources increase. The sy~stem is dynamic in that it generates energy, and it is self-renewing because of the interdependent, reciprocal', exchanging relationship between vertical "and horizontal dimensions. The Goal of Community: Synergy One cannot explore for very long questions Such as we have asked about the dynamics of community life and ministry without confronting the larger question: What should community experience be like? What is it we are searching for by our attempt to integrate identity needs with apostolic min-istry? Maslow was a student of the anthropologist Ruth Benedict and he draws upon her concept of synergy to describe activities within a group w,hich benefit both individuals and the group as a whole. Quoting Benedict, Maslow writes: The Small Group in Religious Lile / 817 I shall speak,.of cultures with low synergy where the social structure pro- ¯ vides for acts which are mutually opposed and counteractive, and cultures with high synergy where it provides for acts which are mutually reinforcing, ¯ . . I spoke o] societies with high social' synergy where their institution insures mutual advantage ]rom their understandings, and societies with" low social synergy where tile advantage o] one individual becomes a victory over an-other, and the majority who are not victorious must shi]t as tliey call. (Italics by Maslow).8 Note the images that portray sources of energy and strength in Bene-dict's synergistic group and that we strive for in the small community group: " . . . acts which are mutually reinforcing . " " . . . mutual .advantage frrm their understandings"; opposing activities whereby "the advantage of one individual becomes a victory over another. " (italics mine). The goal of small group religious community life from a psychological viewpoint is to tap and direct this energy to provide driving force toward purposeful objectives. And the content of Benedict's message i~ the syner-gistic communities offer understanding, support °and action and oppose win/ lose relationships among members. Criteria for Synergistic Community ~ One way to test the thesis offered: here is to observe and reflect" upon experience with alternate life styles among priests and religious. Certainly no single organizational structure' promises to bypass the struggles required to enable a synei~gistic community to grow. Comprehensive discussion is beyond the scope of this paper, but we wish to poi~nt to certain mechanisms that have been found helpful by some rdligious communities in developing open, prbblem-solving climates. Most of the traits mentioned require organi-zational consultation and experience-based learning methods to become operational.9 The starting point is the vertical dimension--to expand the experience of c~mmunity identity. Desirable characteristics and mechanisms have to do with group size, group norms, communication skills, information about members' ministries, shared prayer' and sacraments, and explicit contracts regarding time, tasks, territory'and role of members. A' small group of from four to twelve members enables differences in re-sources to be present and the opportunity for each person to become well known to the others¯ Norms--implicit rules governing behavior--must be developed to support the expression'of affection a~d warmth, confronta, lion and conflict, and to support bringing-in input and help for the group. Basic communication skills in paraphrasing, describing behavior, describing Sop, cit., p. 202. 'aBarber, W. H., & Nord, W., Healer RoleJ o[ Consultants and Need Orientations o] Clients (Spokane: Eastern Washington State College,~mimeo, 1975). Barber, W. H., and Lurie, H. J., "Designing an Experience Based Continuing Education Program," American .tournal o[ Psychiatry, 130, 10, 1973. 818 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 feelings and giving and receiving personal feedback, facilitate interpersonal communication. Some initial didactic experience is useful, and the develop-ment of norms to support the use of communication skills in day-to-day practice is crucial. Since feelings about s'elf are strongly influenced by feelings about work, members who strive for interdependence need to have direct, first-hand in-formation about each other's apostolates. The group has the benefit of dif-ferent experiences and resources when it is comprised of members from different ministries. As there should be shared expression at an interpersonal level of posi-tive feelings and confrontation, as noted above, so there should be shared expression at a spiritual level through prayer, liturgical celebration.and other faith experiences. This serves the purpose of enabling persons who have a commitment to each other to share this special part of their lives. Keeping spiritual sharing separate from other community activities and allowing for differences in member participation is also important because these are valuable means of legitimizing the individuality of personal experience and expression. To be clear about and in control of boundaries the points of separa-tion- for the community in regard to time--when things happen; tasks-- what occurs; territo.ry--appropriate physical spaces for the separate and shared parts of members' lives; and role,delineation of special roles within the group (e.g., management, coordination, various maintenance roles). Summary: Culture and Open System Two ideas may help to summarize the characteristics of effective com-munity: they are "culture" and "open system." It is the hope of those estab-lishing a small group community to enable a particular culture to emerge, one that is unique and meets special needs for that group. A culture is characterized by its social organization--especially norms, roles and ex-pectations for member behavior--and by its "expressions," i.e., what is shared with the outside world by the group. We have said here that the culture of the religious community needs to develop through Particular norms, patterns and values regarding communication and the organization of tasks and roles and religious expression. An open system like a biological organism, is one characterized by in-take, transformation and export processes.1° Transactions occur with the environment: intake of new members, materials and information; and export of the "products" of members' work, and members who leave the system. It is through evaluating differences between intake and export that the quality of the group's efforts, its internal processes can be judged. To be. effective as an open system, a religious community requires management of its intake, export and internal transformation processes, in the latter case 10Rice, A. K., Learning ]or Leadership (London: Tavistock Publications LTD., 1971). The Small Group in Religious Li]e / 819 procedures for meeting individual and group needs for' control of boundaries of time, task, territory and role. Growth of the v~rtical dimension occurs as the culture develops; this growth can be measured by the quality of interaction among members. Open relationships occur as members share ideas, feelings and perceptions that have to do-with their purposes in being together. Trust develops enabling openness and personal sharing to occur appropriately (in contrast with some coercive group norms toward "confiding" or "revealing"). Norms support-ing individual differences in sharing grow and become explicit. When both openness and personal sharing occur and yet individual differences are en-couraged, a climate of genuine intimacy develops. Conclusions Openness, trust and intimacy are important because as human beings we are drawn toward becoming "the persons who we are" and toward being "in relationship.''~ But as a priest or religious one is committed to apostolic ministry--horizontal dimension. Community exists "in the service of min-istry"-~ and this is primary. But since vertical and horizontal dimensions are interdependent, the work of ministry will suffer unless it is anchored in re-ligious community experience that meets social and psychological needs of member~ along with spiritual and apoStolic objectives. One implication is that persons living in religious community may use-fully explore ways in which they are and are not, like the sunbathers men-tioned above, (1) a number of separate individuals in physical proximity to one another, (2) a group brought together because of an immediate, com-mon task, or (3) a special kind of institution, formed to support the work of members' apostolates and simultaneously to facilitate members' personal development. This paper has tried to distinguish among such groups in order to enable members to better cfioose the type of community to which they wish to be committed. The small group as religious community is a collectivity of persons unified by the overarching mission of faith--to facilitate the experience of Christ among persons. This paper attempts to describe how synergy develops and is maintained in the service of ministry thi'ough integrating, in a dynamic way, community needs and apostolic objectives of inembers.1~ XlBuber, M., I and Thou (New York: Scribners, 1970). tZThe ideas in the paper were presented at an assembly of provincial leaders of the Society of the Sacred Heart from North America, Australia, and New Zealand in September, 1975. Provincial teams of three to five persons worked for ten days at various experiential activities aimed at internalizing, in their own behavior, the char-acteristics which are noted in this paper. Their purposes were to strengthen their team relationships, to increase their own experience of Community and to apply the ideas in this paper to 'their concrete work tasks and roles. The women reported, and assembly observers documented~ significant movement toward integrating the concepts with be-havior and action. A paper summarizing behavioral science aspects of the assembly and follow-up data may be requested from the author. The Contemplative Attitude in Spiritual Direction William A. Barry, S.J. Father Barry, Director of the Center for Religious DevelopmeJat, has written on the subject of spiritual direction for our pages before. His last article for RfR was pub-lished in March, .1973. He continues to reside at 42 Kirkland St.; Cambri~lge, MA 02138. In a number of articles both William J. Connolly, S.J. and I have referred to contemplation and the contemplativ~ attitude as the kind of prayerful attitude which spiritual directors try to encourage in those who seek spiritual direction.1 We have tried to describe what we mean by these words. Suffice it here to say that we use the word contemplation in itsoetymological sense; we mean to refer to the act of looking at or listening to something. Webster's first definition of "contemplate" says some of what we mean: "to view or consider with continued attention." In our earlier articles, I believe, we have not been sufficiently precise in our use of the word co.ntemplation and contemplative attitude. We have spoken of contemplating .the Lord in Scripture and in nature and have not sufficiently distinguished between the contemplation of Scripture and nature 1Barry, W. A., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exer-cises," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, No. 1 (1973), pp. 102-109. Bai'r~;, W. A., "The Necessity of Contemplative Prayer for the Teaching and Stu~ly of Theology in a Ministerial School," Church Society ]or College Work, Vol. XXXIII, No. I (1975), pp. 6-10. Connolly, W. J., "Contemplation and Social Consciousness in the Context of the Directed° Retreat: An Experiential Approach." An address at the 8th National Workshop on the Spiritual Exercises, Cincinnati, August 25-28, 1974, and published by The Program to Adapt the Spiritual Exercises, Jersey° City, New Jersey 07302. Connolly,.W.J., "Contemporary Spiritual Direction: Scope and Principles, An Intro-ductory Essay." Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, VII, (1975), pp. 95-124. 820 The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 8:21 and the contemplation of the Lord. Perhaps we have also not sufficiently attended to the nuance that one can have a. contemplative attitude and yet noi be contemplating the LordsIt is the purpose of these notes' to attempt some clarification of the meaning of and use of contemplation in spiritual direction. The Contemplative Attitude and Its Relation to "Transcendence" Have you ever been so absorbed in watching a game or reading a book or listening to music that you have been surprised at the end of the passage of time, by how cold or hot you are, by the anger of a friend (who has been asking 'you something for ten minutes)? Then you know the power of paying attention to something, and you have a personal example of the contemplative attitude. The most telling examples come from reports of how parents 'have been so concentrated on their children's safety in a fire or accident that they have only at the end felt the pain of their own wounds. Thus, one effect of the contemplation of something outside ourselves is that it can make us forget ourselves and our other suroundings. Contempla-tion leads to, or rather, is an experience of transcendence, of self-forgetful-ness of everyone and everything else except the contemplated object. '. Conversely, we find that self-absorption makes the contemplation of any-thing or an~yone else very difficult, if not impossible. Thus,. a starving man may well be unable to enjoy a sunset. One of the key elements to ministry in a hospital is the atte~apt to help the sick to become interested in others around them and in the outside world, that is, to help them todo something that will enable them to forget their own pain and suffering or to put it in another perspective. , . : Another aspect of the examples we began with should' catch our atten-tion, namely that the responses of absorption, joy, pain,: sympathy, love, gratitude which are associated with contemplation are not willed acts or willed emotions~ They are elicited from us by what we see and hear and comprehend.,~ (Of course; these responses~, do not arise qrom a blank tablet, but are conttitioned by our own past experiences~) Herewe have an impor-tant element to consider in all spiritual direction. Responses that are elicited by contemplation are not experienced in the first instance as willed acts. The clearest example, perhaps, is the response of love when one looks at the beloved; it seems to be a gift, something that arises because of the other, not because one has decided to love or fall in love. What one can do is to look it and to try to pay attention to the other, but ore cannot will one's response. At most one can hope that one will respond a certain way, This last point leads us to a further consideration. The person who con-templates in the way we are describing has to have an attitude of reverence and wonder before the other, especially if what he/she ~vants to see or hear is within the power of the other to grant 9r~withhold. In this case all one can do is to ask the other to reveal himself or herself and wait for it to Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 happen. This insight is behind the prayer for what one desires which Ignatius of Loyola puts at the begifining of every one of the exercises of the Spiritual Exercises. For example, in the Exercises I pray that the Lord will reveal to me my sinfulness, that I may have shame and confusion, that the Lord make himself known to me in order that I may love him and follow him. Here we see even more clearly the relation between contemplation and transcendence. When we are dealing with another person, we are not in the same position as we are when we are dealing with an object. Saint Exuprry's Little Prince on his small asteroid only needs to move his chair a bit in order to see another sunset, but he is powerless to see the reality and unique-ness of his flower until she chooses to reveal herself to him.2 But when the free other chooses to reveal him or herself, then the genie is out of the bot-tle, as T. S. Eliot said,~ and the mystery of the other is upon us. Thus we have a further observation on the relation of contemplation to transcendence. We try to control our perceptions. We are threatened by new-hess and strangeness, msa result we often see only what we "want" to see or what our perceptual and cognitive structures let us see. To try to contemplate means to try to let the other be himself or herself or itself, to try to be open to surprise and newness. To begin this process means to open oneself to mystery, ultimately to the Lordship of the Other. It is to let oneself be controlled by the other; paradoxically, one finds oneself free. The upshot most often is that one becomes less incapacitated by fear from accepting the mystery of life/ The experience of transcendence is, I believe, one of a continuum from total self-absorption to total absorption in the other--with the two ends of the continuum being ideal .states not found in nature. In any human experi-ence there is bound to be an.admiXture of both self-consciousness and. aware-ness of the outside world. The boundaries of the continuum might well be circumscribed by referring to the narcissistic person on the one hand and the enraptured mystic on the other. It might also be a help to those who are praying to realize that the contemplation of the Lord is no different from the contemplation of any other person in this regard, namely that one can be in the intimate presenc~e of a very dear friend'and still be'or become aware of the ache in one's feet, of wondering whether one put out the lights in the car, of the work still to be done for school tomorrow, and so forth. ZAntoin"e de Saint-Exuprry, Le Petit Prince, New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1943. " :~"But let me tell y~u, that to approach the stranger ls to invite the unexpected, release a new force, Or let the genie out of the bottle. It is to start a train of events Beyond your control ." T. S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party 4See W. J. Connolly, "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW ]FOR REr LIGIOtJS, Vol. 32, No. 6, (1973), pp. 1358-1364. The Contemplative Attitude in Direction "/ 823 "Distractions," in other words, are a part of even the most intimate rela-tionships and should be expected in prayer too. Finally, in an intimate conversation reflection on what is happening or. on how well one is doing, especially with the idea of writing about it in one's journal or using it as an example for an article like this, can disturb the communication and be an instance of self-absorption. It happens, but it is better not to program it this way. Thus, the wisdom of. the tradition in spiritual direction of advising the person praying to do the reflecting after the period of prayer is over. Contemplation ~f the Lord in Nature and in Scripture Perhaps now we can clarify what we mean by contemplation of the Lord in nature and in Scripture. The Lord is invisible, and so hard to look at; he also seems pretty silent, and so hard to listen to~ Often enough, therefore, we try too hard to pray, :try too hard to listen and look. Too often prayer is seen as self-absorbing; our natural reaction when someone says, "Let us pray," is to bow our heads, close our eyes, and get serious--all of which is proper in its place. But we rarely get the impression that prayer can be an enjoyable experience, :that it can be a conversation, a dialogue, a relation- .ship. The spiritual director is confronted with the problem of,helping people to the enjoyment of God when much Of their past experience of prayer is one of labor, seriousness, brooding, and self-absorption. Many of us .who do spiritual direction have hit upon the idea of helping people to forget themselves for a while. We ask them what they like todo, what he!ps them just to forget their problems (besides going to sleep), and we try to help them to see that 0ihey already do contemplate in the way de- Scribed in the first note. We suggest that they spend a certain amount of time-~each.day, if possible-~-, doing whateVer it is that they like doing that is contemplative, and that they :consider this time as time with the Lord (i.e: prayer) in much the same way that they might want to share the same ex-perience with a close friend. We also suggest that they ask the Lord to make his presence known, to reveal himself. Then they look at and/or listen to whatever it is 'they enj'oy. After e~ch period of doing this we ask them to reflect on the experience: What happened?'What did they experience? Did the Lord make himself known? It is surprising what .happens wl~en people begin to do something like this. They often have objections at first: they.f.eel it cannot be prayer. More-over, being so conditioned to think that brooding and insights and resolu-tions are what prayer is all about they often need time and patience to get the hang of it and to find out that the director really means what he says. But then they begin to find such "prayer" times enjoyable and relaxing; they find themselves surprised by feelings of joy and gratitude and a real sense that Someone is present who loves and cares for them. They find that th~ey can 824 / Review ]dr Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 admit things to themselves that they were always afraid or ashamed to look at--and they feel better for it; they feel freed, healed. Agnes Sanford in her book The Healing Gilts ol the Spirit gives very similar advice. To people whosay "I can't find God," she suggests doing some simple things, especially things they like to do, that will put them in the way of God, as she says,0so "that he can find you.''~ That is the point, of course; as we saw in the first.section, ~the only thing we can do when we want to get 'to know another person is to put ourselves near and askthe person to reveal himself or herself. These reflections bring us to the question: Are there any privileged places or privileged events where we can go to put ourselves in the Lord's way? The traditional answer has been that there are, and. that these places and events include the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, the church teaching, the Scriptures, and the works of the Lord, especially nature, I will say something later about additions to this list, but now I would like to take up nature and' the Scriptures, Traditionally people have found peace and refreshment in the beauties of nature: The fact that most retreat houses, houses of prayer and monas-teries have been located in or near scenes of natural beauty testify to the belief that God is found more easily in nature and in solitude than, say, in cities. Traditionally, too, we have spoken of God revealing himself in the things he has made, "in plants and animals and in men, the wonders of Your hand," as the canon written ~by John L'Heureux puts it,~ I do not want to counter this tradition although I do believe that the Lord can be as present in the city; rather, I want to examine how the Lord is met and how we can help people to meet him in natt~re. First of all directors should suggest~ looking ~nd listening, not give ideas about God's continual creation, his indwelling, and so forth. We have to remember that most of us are conditioned by catechism, philosophy and the-ology classes to have beautiful thoughts about how. God is in all things, but that few of us have ever looked long.enough at a flower to let God reveal himself as the maker of that flower for me. Before a tree can become a symbol of God, it must first be seen and touched and smelled as a tree. The first suggestion, then is that people look at and listen to what.is around them. The second suggestion is that looking at natural beauty can in itself be a way of relat!ng to the Lord without any words~being said. Just as I relate to an artist by taking interest in what he has made, by taking time to look at it or listen to it, so too I can relate to God if I take time to contemplate what he has made. Creators lik~ to have people show interest in what they have done. All the better if I like" what I ~see and smile or sigh or express ~Sanford, Agnes~ The Healing Gilts 0! the Spirit (New York: Lippincott, 1966), esp. pp. 25-32. ~In Hoey, R. F. (ed.), The Experimental Liturgy Book (N,Y.: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 97. ' The Contemplative Attitude in Direction delight in the presence of the artist. Such responses are elicited by what I contemplate, not willed by me, and they are communications to'the artist; in the case of God they are then called prayers of praise. Tfiey do not have to be couched in "prayer language." Indeed, the prayer is often made before a word is formed. The spiritual director might then be able to point out that the responses of the directee are similar to the responses that the poet who wrote Psalm 104 must have had and then tried to express in poetry. Not everyone is a poet, but almost everyone can be thrilled by a dazzling sunset or sunrise, the sun's light on fall leaves, and so forth, and feel a. deep sense of wonder. , Thus far we have been stressing the need to look and listen, the con-templative attitude. As I contemplate, I can also have desires, one of which is that the Lord reveal himself to me while I am looking at his works. If I begin my period of contemplation with a prayer that this desire be grant.ed, then.it is liable to happgn. I do not want to rule out high mystical experi-ences--~ because they do happen and more frequently than we tend to think --but here I would rather concentrate on the more ordinary ways the Lord reveals himself in,answer to this prayer. One can be walking along the beach at night and see a touch of silver from the moon on the crest of a wave and besides delighting in it suddenly feel at peace and in someone's presence who .himself delights in such things. Unaccountably one may feel that one is still loved, even though one does drink o'r eat too much or get angry with one's community members too often or even though one has just lost one's best friend or has just been turned down for graduate school or was not elected superior or whatever, and one may feel free to face ~oneself more honestly and with less self-pity. Or a person may sense her insignificance under the stars, and yet feel her own importance in the ~whole scheme of things, Or another may Sense a call deep inside himself to change his life style. In all these instances the person may be hearing or sensing the voice of the Lord revealing himself. When these kinds of experiences are real and exciting.and challenging as well as com-forting, then the Lord has begun to take on a new reality for the person. Perhaps now he or~.she can also pay attention to him and not just to his creatures. And here may lie the dividing line between contemplating the Lord and contemplating his works. The work of the spiritual director now becomes one of helping the per-son praying to discern, that is, to figure out what is going on, what is God's voice, what not. The discernment of spirits, begins when there are inner movements and the question is: Is the Lord revealing himself, and if so, what is he saying? The genie is out of the bottle, and now it is important to follow the genie's movements. We can look at the contemplation of Scripture in a similar way. Scrip-ture is not the Lord, but a privileged place to meet him. However, one must pay attention to the Scripture itself just as one has to pay attention to trees 1126 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 or sunsets or mountains. That is,"it is necessary to have a contemplative at-titude toward Scripture, to let the Scriptures be themselves and to listen to them and to ask that the Lord reveal himself while we are listening to these words. I do not intend ~here to delve into the arguments as to whether any other religious texts might be privileged places for meeting God; they could be and indeed people have met God while paying attention to St. Augustine's Confessions, to the prayer of St. Francis, to many other works of religious .literature, and even to secular literature. I am accepting as a given that Sgripture has primacy of place over all other literature as the Word of God. But we must listen to the Scriptures themselves, and not our projections onto them. One sometimes hears that modern scripture ,.scholarship with its de-mythologizing and its form criticism has been a blow to piety and has made it more difficult to use Scripture for prayer. Scripture scholars, it is some-times charged, have taken the mystery out of the infancy narratives of the gospels and other stories. We are not sure what Jesus actually said, or whether he actually did everything the gospels say he did. "How can we ever know him then?", people wonder. Those of us who take scripture studies and spiritual direction seriously have had to ponder these questions and charges as well as to take seriously our own and others' experiences in praying with the Scriptures. I think that we have not always been careful in our way of speaking, and it is my hope that this note will contribute to the clarification of our thought and ex-pression. , ,I want to focus on. the contemplation of the gospels and hope that the principles enunciated here can be analogously translated to the use of other scripture texts~ The first point is obvious: It does little good for prayer or Christian living to base both on a delusion. Hence, it is important to see the gospels for what they are. They are not biographies of J.esus, but four differ-ent expressions of the faith of the early Church and what it remembered in faith about Jesus. Each gospel has its own point of view, its own theo-logical focus, its own Sitz im Leben. Contemplation of°Mark's gospel, for example, means taking Mark's work on its own terms and trying to listen to his work of art. Secondly, it should be said that one need not be a Scripture scholar in order to be able to use the gospels for prayer. The Lord can still reveal him-self to someone who believes that angels actually did sing "Glory to God in the highest" at Bethlehem as long as one is open to having the living Lord reveal himself. But I do believe that the more one knows about the gospel, the better one can look at and listen to it and not to one's own cultural and personal projections of it. Thus, I believe that scripture study can be a help to contemplation. In other words, it helps, I think, to be able to con-template Mark's Jesus and know that it is Mark's Jesus and not necessarily The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 827 the "real article" in all his historical reality. For one thing, one is not going to be thrown so much out of kilter by new discoveries of scripture scholars. More importantly, one is more likely to realize that the person one wants to meet' is not the Jesus of the past, but the present living Lord (who, of course,'is continuous with Jesus of Nazareth). Here we are at the heart of the matter. The purpose of contemplating the gospels .is to come to know the living Lord Jesus. Here again we can see the wisdom of Ignatius of Loyola. Before every contemplation of events from the gospels Ignatius has the retreatant pray for what he desires, namely "an intimate knowledge of our Lord, who has become man for me, that I may .love him more and follow him more closely.''~ Then I listen to the gospel text and treat it for what it is, as imaginative literature. I try to take the text ~seriously, and try to let it inspire my imagination, as it was written to do (as well. as to enkindle my faith). But my desire is not to know the scripture text better, but to know the risen Jesus better. I want him to reveal himself to me. And when he takes on reality and shape for me (not neces-sarily in a picture, by the way), then I talk to him, not to the text, and I listen to him, not the text. Those-who have not had this experience will not know what I am talking about, but hopefully they will be open enough to listen to the experience of those who have. The purpose of contemplation of Scripture is not to see Jesus. walking on water or to see him in Galilee or hear him say to Peter "Feed my lambs.~ The purpose is to hear the risen Jesus say to me: "Your sihs are~ forgiven,~you" and to know he means me; to hear him say to me." "Come,,follow~me.and be my friend" and.know that it is the Lord and that he is talking to me. Once again, discernment be-comes a necessity when I begin to feel moved by the Lord himself. I hope that by now it is clear that contemplation of nature or of Scrip~ ture is not in itself contemplation of the Lord, but that the former is a privileged way to the latter. Indeed, one can say that contemplation in the first sense is a technique or method, where contemplation in the second sense is relationship itself and no methods ~are needed. Finally as to the list of privileged places, it may be well to indicate that those mentioned earlier are still privileged places and also that different eras and different people may prefer one of the privileged places to others. It may also be that new privileged places may come into prominence. I am thinking especially of a shift from nature to man-made works of art or technique, a suggestion made by Josef Sudbrack, S.J? In our modern urban culture we may well find that human artifacts as well as human persons themselves may be more privileged than natural beauty. "l~here should be no difficulty here since the works of humans are ultimately God's handiwork. ~Spiritual Exercises (Puhl Translation), No. 104, p. 49. 8Sudbrack, Josef, Beten ist Menschlich: Aus der Er]ahrung Unseres Lebens mit Gott Sprechen (Freiburg in Breisgau: Herder, 1973). 828 / Review jor Religious, Volume 35~ 1976/6 On the Question of the Utility of Contemplation Recently in a discussion of contemplation someone mentioned that many people were advocating the 'techniques I have labelled contemplative for problem solving in management, for conflict resolution and that they worked without reference to God or the transcendent. That is, the contemplative techniques we mentioned in the,.earlier notes, were being used for secular purposes,, and people were feeling better, were more creative, more integral, and so forth. There is no question that the technique of contemplation by itself is very salutary. We need~ not bemoan that fact. But then what is the need to bring in God and prayer? ~ Here the only reply is to ask oneself to what end one uses contempla-tive techniques. If the answer is to solve problems, to feel better, to be more creative, then perhaps there is no need t~ refer to God and prayer. But for those for whom contact with the living Lord and the relationship itself with him are the goals, the question loses significance. It is like asking someone what he gets ,out of time spent with his wife that he could not get from others just as well. For those who seek the Lord, these techniques would be worthless no matter how good they. made them feel if in the process they did not find their Lord. Throughout.~these notes I have stressed that the purpose of contemplating nature, Scripture, or anything else is to meet the living Lord. When he is engaged, or rather when he engages me, there is no need of techniques or even of asking what the utility of prayer is. I want to be with him, and ttiat is enough. Without effort utility comes; one be-comes a better person and Christian. But relationship,is what is sought: In a Rut To get out of a rut a seed digs deeper. Edward A. Gloeggler P.O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Individual Apostolates and Pluralism Community Identity in John T~I Ford, C.S.C. Fr. Fo~:d is Associate Professor of' Theology and Coordinator of Ministerial Studies in the School of Religious Studies at the Catholic University of America, WA 20064. Not too long ago, as our history is measured, the apostolic endeavors of American religious communities almost' invariably took a corporate or insti-tutional form. A typical example is the religious house all of whose members work in an adjacent school. Though there may be considerable variety in the occupations of individual religious (e.g~, ,~administration, teaching, coun-seling, maintenance, etc.), the work of;each is seen as contributing to the overall~ofunctioning of the institution. This corporate pattern is frequently paralleled in hospitals,~parishes, and other works religious communities un-dertake. ~ An.~important.consequence of this familiar pattern is aopervasive identi-fication, of religious community .with its institutions:' For example, this iden-tification is commohly reinforced through° a schedule that melds communal and institutional activities: if religious aren't working~in the institution, then they usua.!ly can be found together at some communal, activity in the near-bmyo rree sciydneinccale .h Tavhee c roemsuplatr iesd p wraitcht iicmapllryis ao n"mtoetnatl; .i nhsotwituetvieorn;.aalsi zwatiillo bne" nthoatet dthe later, a more apt.' comparison is with the communal life of the "family farm" or the "cottage industry" in agrarian societies. In brief, then, an "institutional apostolate" is a particular activity that members= of a religious community undertake as a corporate: effort; it is both a means of livelihood and a means of realizing the goals of the community. The melding of communal and institutional activities also affords a means ~f self-identity for religious. For example, the fact that religious (with 829 a30 / Review Jot Religioux, Volume 35, 1976/6 appropriate humility) speak of"'our school" is but one indication of the in-fluence of merged communal-institutional life on individual religious. Re-cently, when it has become necessary to close "our school," this identifica-tion has sometimes become painfully apparent. In other terms, the American tendency to identify a person with his occupation (e.g., John Smith is a carpenter, Mary Doe is a teacher) reached sort of a zenith in the case of religious; indeed, religious may be so identified with a particular institution that "outsiders" may not even know the proper name of the community whose members work there (e.g., "the sisters who teach at St. Mary's"). The liabilities of institutional apostolates are all too familiar. Perhaps the most burdensome is the tendency to subordinate the personal life of religious to the consuming demands of the institution. Illustrations are legion: fre-quently requests of a personal nature are refused if they are seen as inter-fering with the work of the institution (rather than as being alien to com-munity life). Another burden is an unrealistic subordination of communal life to institutional demands. While the acceptance of an institutional apos- ,tolate necessarily demands coordination with the life of the community, sometimes this is done by an additive process, as in the case of a com-munity that fulfilled its quota of religious exercises, one rapidly following another, after closing school for the day. Occasionally, the reverse happens: the requirements of an institutional apostolate are over-ruled by community procedures. An obvious, instance is the appointment of religious to in-stitutional positions for which their major qualification is membership in the sponsoring community. While post-conciliar renewal has (presumably?)caused the disappear-ance of the more conspicuous malpractices, still an inherent and recurring problem in institutional, apostolates is to maintain an appropriate balance between institutional work, living in community; and personal life. Any notable imbalance in these relationships is likely to occasion friction or dissatisfaction within a community. In addition to this perennial problem, there are other factors that have brought added pressures on institutional apostolates in recent years. For example, as a result of the post-conciliar decrease in the number of active religious, many communities have been. unable to staff their institutions in the same measure as formerly. Maintaining institutional 'commitments is seemingly so burdensome that some religious doubt the wisdom of institu-tional apostolates at all---even if their community would have sufficient personnel in the future. This feeling is frequently shared by those younger religious who are disenchanted with institutions in general and have entered religious life in view of a more personalized type of service. While this anti-institutionalism is~sometimes naively ex.aggerated, the fact remains that some communities have accepted members who simply do not identify with in-stitutional apostolates. Simultaneously new options have become available. For example, ~the Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 831 closing of some schools has made it possible or necessary for religious to seek positions outside the educational institutions conducted by their own community. Again, recent developments in the °Church, have led to the creation of new positions that ~previously didn't exist--directors of religious education representing a common instance. And in some cases, religious have found employment in government agencies or public interest firms. An interesting relationship has emerged in many institutions of higher education. In order to qualify for governmental assistance, a legal separation has been effected between institution and sponsoring community. While the same religious may continue their apostolate within the institution, legal separation makes it incongruous for a community to continue to consider the institution "ours." The legal status of religious working in the institu-tion is also changed; for example, many religious now have contracts with institutions that were formerly controlled by theircommunities. Apparently, institutional apostolates are being "individualized." Individual Apostolates Such recent developments have led to the emergence of'a variety of "individual apostolates.''1 Here an "individual apostolate" is :taken to mean a particular occupation that a religious undertakes as a personal effort and responsibility; it is to some degree independent of the administration of the community as such; it depends more on the particular personal qualifications of the religious, not on membership in this or that community. The degree of individuality, however, may ~vary considerably: religious who continue to'work in what were formerly their community's institutions may find that legal separation is a more or less nominal change; other religious, however, may find that they have to qualify competitively for their positions. In the latter case, when a particular religious leaves an individual apostolate, the community can not expect and is not expected to furnish a replacement (as is frequently the case in institutional apostolates). An im-portant icharacteristic of individual apostolates is that the religious com-munity as such can not determine whether its members will be able to ob-tain specific positions. Speaking.of an: apostolate as "individual" does not imply that it~is in-dependent of church or community; rather (if it is to be considered an apostolate) it must be conceived in'some way as a service that witnesses to Christ and reflects the spirit of a particularjcommunity. Moreover, there is a sense in which every apostolate is "individual,". insofar as religious are individually responsible for "personifying" the Gospel in their particular occupations. l Just as some may prefer terms such as '!mission" or "ministry" in place of "aposto-late," some may prefer terms such as "special" or "experimental" to "individual." Whatever the merits of one or other term, the concern here is with the implications of the individuality of these occupations in relation to community life. 1132 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 However, one must admits, the arbitrariness of classifying practically any occupation as an "apostolate." For example, practically any occupa-tion- from farming to fine arts, from physical education to theoretical physics--has been placed under the generic umbrella of "apostolate" in various institutions conducted by religious. Given this precedent, it seems rather arbitrary to attempt to restrict "individual apostolates" along rigid lines.: In addition, individual apostolates have long-standing precedents in most active communities: the missionary stationed alone, the student i'e-ligious living outside a community residence, the traveling .retreat-master or fund-raiser, etc. Again on the'basis of precedents, it is hard to disqualify individual apostolates on .'the ground of separation from daily community life. Or is it justifiable to consider these instances "temporary," when in fact they last for years? Or is it realistic to consider these cases .exceptions or experiments, if they involve a relatively large percentage of a com-munity? The point in raising these questions is not to object to the legitimacy of individual° apostolates in active communities? Insofar as religious rules are guidelines~ not~ absolutes,, exceptions are allowable or, at times,.nece~sary; there does not seem to be any.a priori reason why individual apostolates can not be a justifiable exception. Likewise, communities have always had to experiment in their apostolates; accordingly, individual apostolates can be seen as a new type of apostolic venture attempting to respond to con-temporary needs. Still, it is hardly adequate to treat individual apostolates merely as exceptions or experiments~ First of all, a more positive view is necessary. Individual apostolates should be seen as a development that is appropriate, perhaps necessary, if the Church is to witness to Christ in the contemporary world? Indeed', individual apostolates have already proved beneficial in some communities; for example, their existence has occasioned a much needed delineation of lines of community responsibility in relation to all apostolates. Moreover, individu~il apostolates are a means whereby com-munities, instead of being constrained to fill various slots, can utilize their personnel in more creative ways. Perhaps the most attractive aspect of indi-vidual apostolates is their challenge to religious to develop fully their talents in the service of Christ. 2The question of what constitutes app(opriat~e occupations for r.eligious parallels that of appropriate occupatior~s for priests; cf. G. Murray, "The Hyphenated Priest," R]R (~'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS) 25 (1966), 693-702; D. Hassel, "The Priest-Expert," Chicago Studies 3 (1964), 201-225. .~Whether individual apostolates can be defended in contemplative communities is a different question; the example of Thomas Merton suggests that the possibility should not be peremptorily rejected. :*Cf. M. Rondet, ',Choices of Religious Life in a Secularized Worldi" R]R 34 (1975), 574-579. ~Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 833 On the other hand, since individual apostolates have seemingly arisen more by indirection than by intention~ it is easy to continue the pattern of temporary expedients ~ or ad hoc experiments"without facing broader issues. For example, it may be tempting to presume that individual apos-tolates are only a passing fad that will eventually go away; yet ~what if they are really introducing a new. and, distinct.form of religious,life?~ Again, it is tempting to assume that ,there is little difference.,~between religious, life for those in individual apostolates and those in institutional, apostolates; accordingly, the ~same mo~lel of religious' 'life should prevail in both. But what if there ,is-need for a new type of balance between occupation, re-ligiouslife, and personal life-style in individual apostolates? " The impl!cations of individual apostolates for religious life have been emerging, ,.like ~the apostolates themselves, only piecemeal. Though only partially apparent, these~implications need to be examined, for they poten- .tially constitute the raw material for either crisis or creativity---~r more ljk61y, a bit,of both. In other words,, a pattern is being established that affects,not only'the individual religious involved,,but the commumty as a whole~ For example, a relatively high proportion'of members in some communities is currently engaged in individual apostolates; even were it desirable to withdraw mem- .bets' from individual apostolates,.,it may no longer be feasible to do so without serious disruption (viz. problems in re-assignment, budget, resi-dence, etc.). Somewhat incongruously~ individual apostolates seem to have reached a point of institutionalization! On .the theoretical level, v~hat is at issue is a community's self-vision and self-identity. On the practical level is a complex of questions relating to the implementation of thi~ vision and the fostering of community identity Theoretical Level: A New Vision? Whatever the imbalances in institutional apostolates, they offer religious a sense of identity: "our community working in our restitution:" Quite commonly this sense of corporate identity ~s reinforced by a vision of religious life as a continual harmony of prfiyer ~nd Work, of w~or.k and prayer. Indeed, the identification of community and° institution, suggests something of an equation of,communal prayei and institutional work. If this'vision of religious~life was on~ convincingly painted in the novi-ti~ ite, such an interlocking matrix of p~ra~,er and work seems' alien 'to many religiohs today. The loss c~f this vision may'6ccasi6n feelings of ~talgia for a vision now blurred and a rhythm of. activity now. disjointed. Yet before ~Cf. R. Faricy, "Change in the Apostolic Religious Life," RIR" 34 (1975), 413-414. for a description of the "demonasticization of,apostolates." Should individual aposto-lates be seen as the cutting edge of this centrifug~al movement away from monasti-cism? o ' 834 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume~ 35, 1976/6 indulging guilt4eelings ab'rut, visions lost, it would be well to ask whether the vision is worth recapturing at all . . The vision of religious life as harmonious integration of prayer and work seems to presuppose a double model: a sociological model of an agrarian society coupled with a theological model of a divinely regulated universe.6 While an agrarian model may seem medieval, perhaps the. proximate in-fluence is the American frontier ideal of the self-sufficient family farm. Questions of historical origin aside, an agrarian model seems more influen~- tial in religious.life than is commonly acknowledged. For example, most religious communities were originally founded within agrarian societies; more importantly, an agrarian ideal of .community seems to survive in the expectations, of many religious. Indeed, one may suspect that efforts to "return to the spirit of the founder" may on occasion be similar to the flight from urban life and its mounting frustrations: a yearning for :a simpler life may be nostalgia for the benefits of an agrarian society. Or again, the once common practice of establishing houses of frrmation in rural settings ("where religious life could be lived at its ideal"), reflects something of the ideal of a self,sufficient family farm. Examples could be multiplied; varia-tions on the agrarian model could be added (e.g., religious~ community as "cottage industry" or "ethnic village," etc.). It seems worth noting the similar melding ~of work and communal life that characterizes both agrarian societies and institutional apostolates. Fitting: neatly with an agrarian model of religious :communityqs a the-ological :model Of a well regulated universe: iu~t as the universe is har-moniously ordered in every detail by an inherent set.of laws enacted by a provident God, so too is the religious community harmoniously regulated in every detail by a set of rules provided by ~a diyinely guided founder and subsequently administered, by omniscient superiors.7 While this is blatant caricature, it should be-remembered that every caricature hits uncomfortably close to life¯ ¯ Both models have become theoretically untenable. The~ agrarian model ~;Many different models have been used to explain the transition from one vision or world-view to another: for example, T. Nuij, "New Forms of Community Life," R]R 32 (1973), 59-64, coniraSts commtlnity in primitive, rural or pre-technological, and technological or industrial cultures. Among the abundant literature on this transition, cf. T. O'Meara, Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Lile (New York~ 1972); G. Moran, The. New Community (New York, 1970); L. Schaller, hnpact o[ the Future and The Change Agent (Nashville-Ne~ Yo.rk, 1969 and 1972, respectively); R. Weg-mann, "The Catholic Clergy and Change," Cross Currents i9 (1969), i78-197. The well-known works of C. Reich, The Greet,ing o! America (New York, 1971) and A. Toffler, Future Shock (New York, 1970) offer additional models and numerous illustrations. rThe influence of another model, the church as institution; is also evident; on the advantages~ and.~ limitations of 'this and. other ecclesiological models, cf. A. Dulles, Models o[ the Church (Garden City, New York, 1974). !t would be helpful to have a similar analysis of models of religious life. ~ Individual A,postolates and Pluralism / 835 is_Ansufficient in view of the complexity of urban, technological soCiety, while the theological model of-a s~,stematically directed universe is inade- - quate in the face of historical consciousness and philosophical pluralism. Accordingly, neither of these models .provides a suitable framework for a vision, of religious life. Nbnetheless, there is one reason ~for their tengcious survival:¢ they undoubtedly furnish a sense of security. It is ~spiritually reassuring to devote one's entire day in a harmonious blend of prayer and work dedicated to God: could a fervent religious want more? For some religious, then, the h'armonious vision is quite satisfying. For others, othe ~vision may~be~ feeble, but they are willing to live with;incon-sistency, because they are unable or unwilling to search for a new vision. If~a few havediscovered a new vision, many others are still searching. Aside from the fact that it is far easier to criticize a vision-become-problematic than to construct a replacement, visions are elusive and difficult to verbal-ize. More than likely, discussions within a community do notdebate visions but center on practical issues: traditional procedures versus new approaches. It is tempting, for example; to treat individual apostolates merely as another practical problem. Yet touch'more is at stake: competing visions of com-munity and apostolate that stand at the heart of personal and corporate self-identity. Not surprisingly, the .response to new visions has been varied. First of all, some would prefer to re-upholster the traditional vision by discard-ing out-dated elements" and .super-imposing sundry modern touches. Change is then cosmetic: the superficial appearance is different, but the funda-mental vision remains the same. Nevertheless, there are definite ad-vantages to this approach: it affords cor~tinuity with the past--a matter of concern to older members; it accommodates itself to new circumstances.--- a mattef of importance for younger members; and it introduces, ch~inges gradually sb that there is sufficient time to become accustomed to one set of changes before more_ are introduced--a matter of expediency in all social changes. Yet such an option Carries with it a'notable liability: it relies on a vision that is basically unattractive and unacceptable to many. ~ ~ ¯ Nonetheless-, the right of a community to take this option must be respected, for it may be the only option that a particular community can really live with.8 To follow an out-dated vision may not be wise, but it need not be wrong.dn fact, the attempt to .jerk away an apparent Linus blanket from those committed to a traditional vision is likely to be disrup-tive of both community and apostolate? .Without arbitrarily precluding the o sit might be well to develop a declaration of rights for religious similar to Vatican II's Declaration on Religious Freedom. '~Th6 hazards of adopti0g a new vision are forcefully, though stridently, indicated by J. Hitchcock, The.Decline and Fall o~ Radical:~Cbtholicism (New York, 1971); with-out accepting his viewpoint, one can still~adna!t the need for facing straightforwardly his criticisms. 83b / Review for Religious, Vrlume 33, 1976/6 possibility of future change, a community may.decide very realistically and very,' honestly that its capacity for renewal can only accomplish so much at~a ~iven moment of its history. Communities that decide to retain a traditional vision of community and'apostolate would be well advised not to"eng~ge any of their members in,individual, apostolates that require a life-styl~ that'is basically incompatible with the community,s traditional, vision and thus 'threaten its ~corporate identity. The predictable resulr~'would be serious dissension that.:the, com~ mfihity .may not be prepared to bear:~Yet this need not imply that such communities need to exclude ever~ type of individual.apostolate; what is implied is that~each proposed individual apostolate must be carefully ex-amined for its concordance.with the community's self-vision and self-identity. ,, The Problem, of Pluralism : If the traditional vision is~unattractiw or untenable, what is the new vision of ~community and apostolate? The ~option would be simple~ if a compelling new vision were~ at hand;'then at least-the choice would be.~ clear-cut: traditional or new. Unfortunately there is no one unifying vision that demands acceptance. If it is quite clear that modern life is techno-logical not agrarian, pluralistic not uniform, it is not clear how such aspr'cts .can be synthesized in a new vision. Instead of one new vision, there are~ any number of competing visions--each with advantages~ all'with their respective liabilities. The way to the future seems tobe: may. the best vision win! It is then quite understandable why many religious prefer to hold on to the~ vision they have, whatever.its deficiencies, rather than risk'the vague uncertainties of some apparently more problematic replacement. It is equally understandable why many other religious tend to hedge their op-tions ,by tentatively exploring new possibilities, while keeping a firm'grasp on,a traditional vision. Still., just as a diversity of liturgical practices and theological viewpoints has emerged in. the post-conciliar Church, so a similar diversity in life-styles and visions of community and apostolate has emerged in post-conciliar religious life. This ~variety is rooted in a greater theological awareness of the diversity in the mystery of Christ, the uniqueness of each person, and the temporal and cultural plurality of mankind.~° Where formerly uniformity was prized,as exemplifying the uhity of the Church, now pliJralism is seen as reflecting the Church's catholicity. Yet if it is easy~to pay lip-service to pluralism, it is much more difficult ~°Cf. E. Carter, "Pluralism in Christian Life," R[R 31 .(1972), 22~26; K. Rahner~ "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Churchs' Professiono o~ Faith," Con~ cilium 46: 103.123; A. Dulles', "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem,'" 'Theological S~udies 29 (1968),~ 397-416 (reprinted in Dulles! The~'Survival ot Dogma [Garden City, New York, 1971], pp. 152-170). ,Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 837~ to cope consistently with its implications. For example, some religious have adopted new life-styles, but have not related these to a new vision; and vice versa, new visions 'have been officially adopted in constitutions and rules without subsequent implementation in a community. ~ More importantly, the transition from uniformity to pluralism is both threatening~and enticing. Those who were trained for, or are congenitally inclined to, a life of uniformity and regularity can be severely confused by a,superabundan~e of choices and°the burden of responsibility inherent in a pluralistic situation:~°For example, obedience seems to furnish an excuse for some religious to become over-dependent on their superiors; or vice versa, obedience seems to allow some superiors to pre-empt most decision-making from their subordinates. If some r~ligious pale at pluralism~ it may be the threat of responsibilities that they are unwilling or unable to, bear; similarly, if some ~superiors resent pluralism, it may be through unwilling-ness to share their authority with former subordinates. Another dismaying aspect of pluralism is the potential loss, of com-munity support-systems; when familiar practices vanish, religious ma~' feel themselves ostracized from the group or isolated in their work. Change ih any form is unsettling to creatures of habit, but clinging to a traditional pattern may result in isolation. Since the prospect of losing the respect and understanding of one's companions is~unnervihg, pluralism can prove to be just as formidable to younger religious as to older. In the case of the younger, ,it can be the refusal to adopt the ~vision currently in vogue among their peers. Yet if pluralism ig threatening; it is also attractive. In place of the enervating burden of predictable routine there is the prospect of flexibility and variety in both communal and ~ apostolic life. Religious life is more easily seen as a challenging opportunity for'personal initiative and creativity in the service of Christ. For example, obedience may be seen~ as a commit-ment to Christ that takes the form of submitting one's proposed activities tO the critical encouragement and the charismatic~ evaluation of one's col-leagues; authority is pr!marily that of competent advice; ultimate responsi-bility is one's own before Christ and community. But such a revised view of~ obedience has to be accepted, not ~ofily by the individual but by the community, which may have fo ask whether it can function with a number of different and divergent views of obedience. Another attractive aspect of pluralism is the atmosphere which~ the community provi~tes religious for developing their self-potefitial both in their lives as Christians and in ~their apostolates; this implies a willingness and openness in sharing insights and successes, failures and feelings; in-deed, the diversity of apostolates undertaken by their colleagues can be-c~ me an incentive for religious to Work at~maximum capacity. The preceding contrast exemplifies some of the positive and negative aspects of pluralism. The examples may also help explain why individuals 838 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 react quite differently to the prospect of pluralism: some feel threatened; others are attracted; still others would like to have the advantages of both uniformity and pluralism without the liabilities of either.11 Insofar as pluralism seems to have emerged within religious life more as the result of a series of individual decisions and external trends than through precise planning for pluralism, its implications need attention. Earlier, pluralism in religious life tended to exist more as a collective phe-nomenon: different communities constituted a diversified spectrum of "catholic" religious life, but any one community tended to occupy only a section of this spectrum; each community enjoyed a fairly well specified corporate apostolic identity. The importance attached to this identity-via-apostolate is illustrated by the fact that some communities (even when personnel was available) refused to undertake certain apostolates, as incompatible with their constitutions; as a result, some communities originated as off-shoots of others, when a new apostolate was needed which the parent community felt unable to enter. "Of course, some communities have always allowed greater internal diversity than others. For example, if some communities have restricted their endeavors to one or two specific apostolates, others have undertaken a variety. At first sight, individual apostolates appear to be simply an exten-sion of this variety. And in fact, this seems to be the way most individual apostolates have come about: superiors have allowed individual religious to accept experimental apostolates as exceptions to accustomed practices. In fact, these exceptions have gradually reached the point in some com-munities- where a comparatively high percentage of members is involved; in some instances, proportionately more members are now in individual apostolates than are in some traditional ones. In effect, the exceptions appear to be constituting a new rule, though there is not always a new vision to accompany it. Thus, the introduction of individual .apostolates may precipitate a re-orientation of a community's self-vision and self-identity. In other words, individual apostolates seem to imply the acceptance of a plurality of visions, only some of which are com-patible with traditional vision(s). The basic question then is: to what extent is a community really willing to accept the implications of pluralism? Practical Options A community's Vision of its apostolate(s) is a vital element in its cor-por. ate identity; presumably its apostolic vision is an important factor in attracting, applicants ,and in training younger membersi presumably too, 11The reaction of any person to pluralism seems to involve a number of intertwined factors--personality, intelligence, education, age, occupation, etc.--so that it is im-possible to predict an individual's receptivity.to pluralism. Nor is receptivity~ merely a matter of age; the contrast "traditional-pliJralistic" is not identical with older versus younger~ Also, one may doubt whether it is possibl6 'to foster pluralism simply through instruction~ Individual Apostolates and Pluralism /839 apostolic vision is an essential motivation for the special spirit and dy-nainism of a community. Moreover, apostolic vision is necessary if a community is to avoid being victimized by the needs of the moment and to pla.n its activities on a long range basis. It is crucial, then, for a com- ~iinity to delineate its apostolic vision as clearly as possible, while recog-nizing that every option involves risk.1~ ,~ first option is for a community to continue its institutional aposto-late( s) as~ its primary and (probably) exclusive commitment. Presuming of course that its institutions are really viable, the most-compelling motive for this option can be found in the fact that this is what the membership recognizes as its proper charism and commits itself to do. The evident risk is that this option is not particularly appealing to those who want to work in a more personalized setting; thus, recruitment of new members and dis-satisfaction among present members could well be problems. Moreover, this option may yield to the temptation to abandon the struggle to live a religious life in the modern pluralistic world. The polar-oppbsite' is the option to make individual apostolates the primary and presumably exclusive emphasis in a community.~As a means of responding to challenges facing the Church in the modern world, thisop-tion presupposes considerable flexibility in community structures as well as Considerable self-reliance on the~part of individual religious. These pre-sumed strengths may be dissipated through excessive individualism on the one hand or through lack of traditional support-systems on. the other. While a few commuriities," or at least some segments .of communities, appear to be headed in the direction of this option, what may really be at stake is the creation of new communities (even though the present may not seem a particularly auspicious moment for new found~tiofis). L oA compromise between these two options is the attempt to. juxtapose ¯ institutional and individual apostolates. In greater or less degree, this is theo~present option of many active communities in the United States. In-deeid, it seems to be a typical bit of American pragmatism for a community to allow its members to dream different visions, to work in diffe~rent settings, oani:l, yet to unite, together as members of one family. If such diversity defies theoretical alignment, American religious will presumably be content, as long as their community lives and works harmoniously, however diversely. Compromise will tend to succeed as long .as religious are genuinely tolerant of the inevitable tensions that diversity introduces. The unavoidable risk is that s'uch a compromise will become unglued for example, through a wide-spread failure to fulfill responsibilities both in apostolates and in religious life, through favoritism or factionalism introduced when one group attempts to impose its views on others, or through the difficulty of attracting new members to a pluralistic life. r-'Cf, the interesting interview with a superior,general, C. Buttimer, "Is Religious Life Viable Today?" America 128/4 (February 3, 1973), 86-90. 840 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 If compromise is to be successful, it is important for the members of a community~ explicitly to recognize the terms of the compromise. In other words, if the tensions arising from diversity in visions and a variety of life-styles are not to. be divisive, a community needs to recognize and to ,accept a spectrum of variant models of apostolic endeavor and of, community life. A community should specify the extent of pluralism that it is capable of tolerating. For example, some communities may be ,open to any type of individual apostolate; others may wish to restrict themselves~ tO select types. Without prior specification or evaluation, .there is potential for arbitrary decision-making, either real or imagined; there is also the likelihood of disillusionment among members if their expectations, ,whether realistic or idealistic, are :not met. (Disillusionment can affect both those who expect the traditional apostolates to be maintained, as well as~ those who, want ind~ividual apostolates to be introduced.) . ~ ~ The acceptance of pluralism should eventually. 'be expressed in bbth the constitutionS, which describe a community's aprstolic vision, and in the rules,~which attempt to concretize this vision in the life.of a community. Such, formulation is .a difficult endeavor, as the revisions undertaken after Vatican II amply confirm.13 Moreover, the emergence of individual aposto-lates adds to the.complexity: first, since the vision is pluralistic and personal, constitutions apparently can do little more than generalize about the limit-points of the pluralism that is acknowledged in principle~ secondly, if rules presumably reflect the lived experience of a community over a period of ¯ time, individual apostolates, in their present form, ar~ both recent and .still .experimental. Accordingly, .different communities may choose .to accept individual apostolates .in rather different ways. Some communities may find it feasible to consider tliem as extensions of existing apostolates; for example, a com-munity., whose apostolate is in education may decide to restrict the ac-ceptance of individual apostolates to educational endeavors. Other com-munities, which have defined their apostolates in terms of specific groups (e.g., poor,~ unevangelized, ethnic, etc.) may allow individual apostolates as a broadening of their ministry to these groups. Still other communities may encourage any~,type of new individual apostolate that displays some relation to witnessing Christ in the modern world.' At least as crucial as express recognitio,n of individual apostolates~ in :constitutions and rules is the way religious regard such formulations. For some, rules are principles that must be uniformly applied in partiCular in-stance. s; others would view rules as determinations that are to be supple-mented and emended according to actual experience. This contrast is given visual form,,in the first case, by those rules that are published in leather-l'~ Cf. J.l_~zano, "Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria, and Problems," R]R 34 (1975), 525-534. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 841 bound, red-edged volumes resembling miniature Bibles; in the second.case, rtiIes migtit well be mimeographed on loose-leaf sheets and placed in folders to facilitate periodic revision and up-dating. At least this illustration may indicate tha~t attempting to specify'rules for a diversity of individual aposto-lates is a ~tenuous enterprise. In addition, it suggests that traditional rules; however well suited to institutional apostol~ites, should not simply be used as .an umbrella to cover the new situations encountered in individual aposto-lates. Since uniform rules for individual apostolates tend to be anomalous in theory and impractical in"fact, it seems necessary for commuifities whose members are engaged in individual apostolates to develop new approaches: It may well bethat'a community may decide to'formulate guidelines for community or .procedures~for administration or standards .for~professional life for those members in individual apostolates. In so doing, a community will need to face squarely both the advantages and the draffbacks that are encountered in attempting to live and work with quite different 'types of apostolates and life-styles within tile same community. o In any pluralistic situation, it is obviously impossible to lis't all the variables; yet it may be helpful to saml~le a few problem areas: administra-tive procedures, community life, and personal freedom. Administrative Procedures In the halcyon days of institutional apostolates, administration .may have been tedious, but it f~equently had the advantage of following a,stan-dard pattern of applying general norms to particular cases. This '.view. of administration is inadequate for dealing with individual apostolates (and, it should be added, With most institutional apostolates as-well). On the one"hand, individual apostolates tend to elude uniform norms, unless these a~'e~,extremely general; on the other hand, individual apostolates necessarily change the roles of and relationship between superiors and subordinates; This change in, roles" is graphically illustrated by the religious who occa-sionally employed the provincial' superior on a part-time basis. A prime factor in the:reorientation of roles is the fact that in most indi- .vidual apostolates, religious .need a fair amount of latitude to negotiate with prospective employeis and that, ~once employed, their work is not under, the direct supervision of community superiors. As a result; a superior's role tends to be narrowed to antecedent approval (for it is frequently unfeasible, if not counterproductive, for a superior to become involved in negotiations) ¯ and subsequent ratification, which may,be tantamount to rubber-stamping a iait accompli. Some superiors may find this process quite congenial; they have plenty of other problems and are quite relieved if some religious can successfully pursue their individu~ apostolates without supervision. Other superiors may feel more or less frustrated at wanting .to be helpful yet not being needed or at wanting to give daily directives yet being powerless; they may subcon- Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 sciously resent the apparent diminution of their authority. All of these reactions manifest, a lack of appreciation of the change in roles in the superior-subordinate relationship. If it is unrealistic to expect to transfer a set of relationships en masse from institutional to individual apostolates, what then is the role of the superior in relation to religious in this context? First of all, a superior has to take seriously the individuality of each apostolate as well as the personality of each religious; in effect, each apos-tolate must be considered as a separate and somewhat unique case, just as each religious ~is a unique individual. Instead of applying general norms to individual cases, a reverse process is needed: whether and how general principles apply needs to be discovered through an evaluation of each apostolate. The latter task can only be carried out as a joint effort of supe-rior and subordinate, acting as colleagues. . Accordingly, the role of the superior is less a matter of issuing com-mands and more a matter of fostering dialogue, discernment, and discre-tion. 14 Dialogue is necessary if the superior is to understand different apos-tolates from the viewpoint of participant religious; though this does not necessarily imply that a participant's view is always the best, still it should at least be the point of departure for productive discussion. Discernment, in the sense of raising appropriate questions to evaluate the potential, and performance for an individual apostolate, must also be a joint endeavor if the merits and disadvantages of a particular apostolate are to be appreci-ated. Discretion, which aims at deciding on an appropriate course of action among a number of alternatives, should also be shared; it is pointless to impose a decision that one cannot or will not be implemented. Obviously, such an approach to community administration requires a more personal type of communication than may have been customary in the supervision of institutional apostolates. Where a large number of indi-vidual apostolates are involved, such an approach may require that super-visory responsibilities be divided among more than one superior. Effective use of such an approach demands that superiors be skilled in interpersonal communication; in practice, this may mean that other administrative tasks, such as financial management, may have to be delegated to others. If a new administrative approach is required for individual apostolates, no approach is a panacea. While a more personal approach may be more human and hopefully more productive, both superiors and subordinates should realize that there is no advance assurance that their discussion will prove fruitful: if ~dialogue can result in agreement, it also may make any disagreement painfully evident; if discernment can raise crucial questions, l~One of the reasons-that dialogue, discernment, and discretion have become m~ajor concerns in post-conciliar renewal is linked to increased recognition of religious as persons; an added reason for the importance of these means here is the individuality of apostolates. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 843 it may also end in self-contented deception; if discretion can aid in deter-mining appropriate action, it is also an arbitrary selection among alterna-tives. There is no method that as such will guarantee success. For example, one question that dispels any roseate vie

Issue 30.1 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, 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; 6X2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Lonis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Bnildlng; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. 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 paya-ble to REVIEW vor¢ RELtOtOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIOIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Bonlevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUN, I BER I REVIEW FOR Volume 30 1971 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE P.O. Box 1110 Duluth, Minnesota 55802 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, 8.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 RELI - GIOUS is indexed in the Catho-lic Periodical Index and in Book Review Index. Microfilm edi-tion of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms; Ann Arbor, Michi-gan 48106, RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. The Experience of Crisis Since the conclusion of Vatican II a state of crisis in the Church and the religious life has produced a similar state in the lives of many religious. Values and goals, formerly held "as sacrosanct and essential, have been called into question and, in some cases, abandoned. Ways of living, traditional to an order or congregation for centuries, have been replaced. Members, once thought to be as settled in their vocations as the proverbial Rock of Gibraltar, have departed. Changes requested by the Vatican Council as necessary for renewal have sometimes failed to come about or have taken place with soul-jarring suddenness. There exists a seeming incompatibility between the old and the new, the young and the old. As a consequence, it is not surprising that a number of priests and nuns find themselves unable to face squarely what is taking place and then to make the necessary adjustments in their own way of thinking and acting to allow them to live com-fortably and productively in the religious life as it exists today. They have reached a point in their lives that can best be described as a crisis. The state of crisis is an immediate but transitory life episode in which the individual is taxed beyond his adaptive powers, resulting in an intense, distressing psy-chological experience.1 It is a period when a person is exposed to threats and demands at or near the limits of his coping resources? In his own mind, he frequently feels that he is asked to do the impossible. Under normal conditions, he would make use of his usual repertoire of coping devices; in the crisis situation, these prove ineffec-tive. 3 He sees no solution; he begins to panic and soon finds himself experiencing such psychiatric symptoms as severe anxiety, depression, and mental confusion. He feels 1 R. S. Lazarus, Psychological Stress and the Coping Process (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966), p. 2. -" K. S. Miller and I. Iscoe, "The Concept of Crisis: Current Status and Mental Health Implications," Human Organization, v. 22 (1963), pp. 195-201. s Gerald Caplan, Principles o[ Preventive Psychiatry (New York: Basic Books, 1964). 4- 4- 4- Richard P. Vaughan, S.J., is the provincial for education of the California Prov-ince; P.O. Box 519; Los Gatos, Califor-nia 95030. VOLUME :}0, 1971 helpless in the face of what appears to be an insoluble problem.4 Reacting to Stressful Situations No two people respond to an anxiety-provoking situa-tion in exactly the same way. One religious accepts drastic changes in his rule and way of living with apparent equanimity; a second is obviously shaken but collects his resources and copes with the situation while a third lapses into a state of incapacitating panic. The factors account-ing for this difference are threefold: (1) the structure of personality; (2) the nature of the environmental stress or stresses; and (3) the state of one's faith. The proportion that each of these factors contributes to the experience of crisis varies from individual to individual. As a consequence of inherited endowment, the ef-ficacy with which the developmental tasks of the various stages of life were accomplished, environmental circum-stances, and one's own deliberate choices, each one of us develops a unique personality. Some have strong per-sonalities; others, weak; most of us fall at one of the innumerable gradations between these two poles. The well-balanced religious is the one who is usually happy, contented, and able to meet at least adequately, if not well, most of the demands placed upon him. The neurotic religious is the one who lacks contentment, is dissatisfied, and unable to withstand the usual stresses of religious life. When he is confronted with the unrest and uncer-tainty ,so prevalent in communities today, he literally " "falls apart." He does not have the inner strength to face issues vitally affecting his life. We all have neurotic traits or tendencies. Some have more than others. The more of these traits, the more difficult it is to cope with stressful situations. The nature of a particular neurotic mechanism also limits adaptabil-ity. It should be noted that one need not be severely neurotic to undergo a crisis. The seemingly healthy reli-gious with several neurotic tendencies can also reach such a state. 4- 4- 4- R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 Meaning of Environmental Stresses Environmental stresses precipitating a crisis are mani-fold. Needless to say, some situations by their very nature are more disturbing than others. For many, initiating a new form of authority in a community or abandoning the traditional horarium will be more anxiety-provoking than a modificatiofi, of the habit.or mode of dress. Of greater importance, however, is the meaning the stressful situation has for the individual. The same situation can 4 Miller and Iscoc, Concept of Crisis, pp. 195-6. affect two people in quite different ways.~ For one it can be a motivating factor to participate in bringing about renewal whereas for the other it becomes a debilitating crisis. In the latter case, the individual is overcome by feelings of frustration and helplessness. The failure of his congregation to realize the ideal attacks his own ide-alism, something close to the core of his personality.6 Often such a person is lacking sufficient, security to allow him to live patiently under existing conditions, trusting in the benevolence and wisdom of the Holy Spirit. A feeling of hopelessness coupled with depression takes over and he sees no alternative but to abandon his commit-ment. The perception of these two individuals (lifter radically. The security and inner strength of the one per-mits him to see the congregation's assets as well as its limitations while the insecurity and weakness of the other causes him to look at only the natural limitations. It should be noted, however, that not all deciding to withdraw from the religious life are doing so because of insecurity and personality weakness. Reasons for such a decision are numerous and complex. Each case should be evaluated on an individual basis. Unfortunately some studies on departures from the priesthood and religious life tend to overgeneralize, thus producing dubious re-suhs. Faith Faith is a third factor influencing one's reaction to a stressful situation. If what a person believes has deep per-sonal meaning and has been integrated into his personal-ity, anything considered an attack on this belief will often be looked upon as an attack on himself. It is for this reason that some react with violent opposition when traditional doctrines and practices .are called into ques-tion. An inability to settle such questioning in a per-sonally satisfying way can result in a crisis. On the other hand, if an individual's faith in God and the Church is weak, he finds it relatively easy to abandon it. Recent events in the Church and in religious life are not likely to precipitate a crisis, since he has few emotional attach-ments to either. Cons'equences of Crisis The experience of crisis affects many areas of function-ing, the most pressing of which deal with emotional well-being. A common reaction, as we have stated, is a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness leading to depression,z + 4- Lazarus, Psychological Stress, p. 56. Ibid., p. 6. Miller and Iscoe, Concept o] Crisis, p. 196. VOLUME 30, 1971 5 ÷ ÷ I{. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 As the crisis . h~ightens, anxiety increases, producing greater inactivity.8 An inability to meet the demands of a situation and to arrive at needed decisions results in a desire to escape. Many under severe stress experience an urge to run away; where makes no difference just as long as they can distance themselves from the threatening en-vironment. The major drawback of giving way to such an urge is that the crisis is internal and often continues in the new environment. The person in crisis also finds that he becomes disor-ganized in his work.'a Whereas previously he was able to handle his assignments with proficiency and competence, he now discovers that he is unable to concentrate and that he makes numerous mistakes. He can no longer force himself to prepare his classes or sometimes even to enter the classroom. His inability to take hold of himself and regain his former efficiency only increases his sense of hopelessness. Under severe stress an individual's perception of a situation and its ramifications is limited.10 He tends to concentrate on a small, sometimes unimportant portion of a situation and overlook many significant aspects. He is unable to see the true problem confronting him. For example, the religious in crisis often finds himself unable to place in proper perspective the Church and the reli-gious life as they exist today; he concentrates on one or two shortcomings appearing to him as insurmountable barriers to happiness, such as the failure of some superiors to treat subjects as persons or bishops governing from a stance of excessive legalism. He then calls into question the validity of the whole life. He lacks a balanced view and therefore is in no position to make a decision and then act on the basis of this decision. Unfortunately, a number of priests and sisters decide to abandon their commitment during a period when they are no longer open to all possible options and when they are incapable of seeing all the implications of their deci-sion. They simply feel trapped i.n a life presenting many frustrations and obstacles. They take the only apparent course open to them, when they should have been en-couraged to forego any far-reaching decisions and to wait until they can evaluate fully all the factors involved in their distressing situation. For this reason, a change in status or a leave of absence is much preferred to the finalized dispensation from the vows. It can be hoped ~ Sheldon J. Lorchin in The Encyclopedia o/Mental Health, v. 6 (New York: Franklin Watts, 1963), pp. 1975-82. "Jack R. Ewalt in Man under Stress ed. Seymour Farber (Berkeley: University o~ California, 1964), p. 39. ~0 Richard P. Vaughan, An Introduction to Religious Counseling (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1969), p. 93. that once they have distanced themselves from the stress-provoking environment and become engrossed in a differ-ent setting, emotional equilibrium will return and even-tually a decision based on reason can be reached. Helping the Religious in Crisis What can be done to help the religious in crisis? The first thing needed is an understanding listener to counter-act the feeling of isolation and helplessness. The priest or sister should be encouraged to express how he or she feels as well as some of the despondent thoughts accom-panying these feelings. Spontaneous expression estab-lishes the listener as an interested, and, hopefully, a help-ful person.11 It allows the religious to become consciously aware of his emotional state and eventually to appraise" the reasons for his anxiety, fear, and depression. Initially, there will probably be an outpouring of negativism, an-ger, and despondency. As the emotional turmoil begins to subside, a more realistic evaluation occurs. Since in the eyes of the disturbed religious everything looks so hope-less, the listener is often tempted to feel the same way. He is apt to think: "Things have gone too far, there is nothing I can do," whereas a little patience and time plus a manifestation of genuine concern can produce re-markable results. Until relative calm is reestablished, few, it any, rational decisions can be reached; hence pushing a discussion in the direction of reasons for and against taking a position is apt to be fruitless. What the religious needs most is support and reassur-ance that eventually he will return to his former state of mind.1-0 In the meantime the fact that he has someone he can trust and on whom he can lean means a great deal. Occasionally a situation demands some lesser decisions and action, something the individual is incapable of doing without reassurance and direct guidance. In gen-eral, however, the best principle is to make no far-reach-ing decisions during a period of crisis. Perhaps the greatest assistance that can be given is the advice not to decide or act until he can make a valid, reasonable deci-sion. Inactivity and withdrawing are two common symptoms accompanying a period of crisis. To counteract these, some definite form of activity commensurate with his psychological state shonld be encouraged. XYalking with another, playing a game of tennis or golf, or assisting an-other in some relatively simple office chore can all be 4- + 4- Crisis ~: Leopold Bcllak and Leonard Small, Emergency Psychotherapy and Brie] Psychotherapy (New York: Gruenc and Stratton, 1965), p. v0t.ut~E 101. a~ Ibid. 7 beneficial. Time to ruminate and brood should be elim-inated insofar as possibIe. If a religious manifests the symptoms of crisis for sev-eral months and appears unable to regain his former self, then professional assistance should be sought. It is quite probable that a neurotic condition is blocking the abil-ity to cope with the environmental situation provoking the state of crisis. + + R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 GEORGE L. COULON, C.S.C., AND ROBERT J. NOGOSEK, C.S.C; Religious Vows as Commitment In this day when so many religious are leaving their communities, a question presses on the minds of both young and old: What is the value today of perpetual vows? For religious professed already ten or twenty years this question can be very disturbing during this period of dramatic change in the life of the Church. For young religious, as they approach final vows, the problem some-times takes the form of another question: How can I make a lifelong commitment to religious life? How can I pos-sibly anticipate today what I will think and feel ten, twenty, thirty years from now, when the world, the Church, religious life, and I myself may change almost beyond recognition? Three Interpretations To enter upon this question, it should be noted that religious live the commitment of their vows in various ways, not so much perhaps from what they were taught explicitly in formation, as from what they were seeking in entering the community, and also from the types of loyalty and idealism elicited through their subsequent experiences in the community. It would seem that three distinct interpretations of this commitment are typically the following: 1. Some live out their religious life as basically a devo-tion to their institute. They identify themselves with the structures and traditions of the community and with the institutions it has built up. They take a basic pride in belonging to this particular religious institute and have devoted their energies to improving its function, prestige, and influence in society. 2. Other religious see their commitment as centered on people rather than on what is institutional. They will say they entered the religious life to find Christian George L. Cou- Ion and Robert J. Nogosek teach the-ology at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 30, 1971 9 ÷ G.L. Coulon and R. 1. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community. Their interpretation accentuates the idea of primary, face-to-face relationships. It puts its finger on an aspect of religious life that is very reall human, and true. It recognizes that the community is the soul of the institute and is what most really makes the insti-tute a coherent and stable historical reality. Despite the most radical institutional changes, it is really made up of its personnel. It sees that the community is a more important human reality than the institute with all its organized apostolates which identify the members with the institutions. 3. A third way of looking at the commitment of the religious life is that of a quest for salvation, or an at-taining of Christian perfection. In this interpretation, one entered the religious life because of the ideal of the Christian life it represented. Tbe vows were seen as a commitment to become a good religious and. to realize in oneself a deep life of prayer and a fruitful service to God's People. These, then, are three interpretations which we feel are rather frequent among religious concerning the commitment they are living out by their vows. They can be designated as (1) the institutional, (2) the communi-tarian (or personalistic), and (3) the'specifically religious interpretations of the religious vows. It is our thesis that much difficulty comes to religious because of ihese in-terpretions, for we maintain that they are all defective theologically, whether taken singly or even all together. In our opinion they simply do not express adequately what the commitment of the religious vows is supposed to be according to the gospel and the tradition of the Church. Temptations to Leave As evidence of their inadequacy, we see in each inter-pretation definite occasions leading one to abandon the vows. These interpretations of the commitment made by the vows really will not hold up satisfactorily to some rather ordinary temptations to get a canonical dispensa-tion from final vows and view the commitment as termi-nated. 1. In the case of the institutional commitment, what happens to that commitment if the religious institute changes radically in its structures and institutions? Can this any longer be called the same community we en-tered? One could then question the continuance of the commitment of the vows by arguing that their object hardly exists any longer. Everything has changed--the dress, the rule, the customs, the works. So then how can one be held in God's sight to vows made to something which has changed so much as no longer to be the same? 2. Other kinds of temptations to leave are likely to come to those committed to personal community. What if our friends have left, or we simply fail to find the warmth and virtue of true Christian community in the congregation? What if we find much truer community with friends outside? If our commitment of the vows is basically motivated by the quest for community, then if we come to feel that community is very inadequate in our own institute, we will be strongly inclined to leave and to seek fellowship where it is experienced as much more alive. 3. Even the specifically religious interpretation con-tains occasions for the temptation to leave. What if we find that we have not become good religious, that the religious form of life has not led us to an intense prayer life or a successful apostolate? What if we feel ourselves dying on the vine, where the test of years shows we have not realized in our lives the ideal we were seeking by taking vows? If this way of life has not brought us to the deep union with God we were expecting, we may be tempted to leave. A More Adequate Theology As remedy for such reasonings against perseverance, there is needed a much more adequate theological in-terpretation of the commitment of the religious vows. Such an interpretation should attempt to express as clearly and coherently as possible a Christian reflection upon religious life as it is experienced and interpreted thematically in the Church's tradition. In that tradition, at least from medieval times on, reoligious life has been considered as a special way of living the gospel. And this special way has been expressed most characteristically in the evangelical themes of poverty, celibacy, and obedi-ence. Religious profession of the three vows represented very basically a public confession of the power of the gospel at work existentially in one's life. It was also the recognition that in this special and chosen way of life there was present an effective way of growing in the perfection of charity. In terms of the human experience of this way of life, each of the vows can be seen as standing for both a nega-tive and a positive element. The negative element in-volves the renunciation of genuine human values. The positive element involves the affirmation of the trans-cendent power of the gospel and of divine love over even the highest human values. If a theology of the religious.vows is to approach ade-quacy, it must be able somehow to integrate the insights of the three common interpretations we have cited and at the same time all.eviate what might.be called their in- 4. 4- + Religious ¥ows as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 11 ÷ 4. 4. G, L. Coulon and R. J. Nogo~e~ REVIffW FOR RELIGIOUS herent temptations to non-perseverance. What we pro-pose is a dynamic interplay of the institutional, com-munitarian, and religious aspects under the dem~inds of God's grace. In this dynamic, poverty represents the re-nunciation of the institutional element as an ultimate demand and affirms the supremacy of the community element over it; celibacy represents the renunciation of the ultimate supremacy of the communitarian element and affirms the supremacy of the religious over the com-munitarian; and obedience represents the renunciation of the religious element as ultimate and affirms the abso-lute supremacy of grace and God's reign. It is the last element which completes the dynamic and is to be recog-nized as the Christian basis for religious profession along with a Christian reaffirmation of the institutional, com-munitarian, and religious quest. The Commitment of Poverty The first of the evangelical themes to consider is pov-erty. it would seem that the most obvious meaning of religious poverty is the renunciation of wealth, power, and prestige. This is not to affirm the intrinsic value of destitution or lack of material goods, but rather ex-presses a preference for the simple hnman life o~ the little people of this world over the riches, affluence, and sophistication of those considered socially important. But by religious profession we enter into a religious institute; and it should be recognized that there is built into every institution, even those professing poverty, a strong tend-ency toward the acquisition of the precise human values renounced by poverty, namely, of wealth, power, and prestige. Consequently, in the spirit of evangelical pov-erty, there is frequent need for the religious institute to be pruned of its power, wealth, and prestige. Sometimes this pruning is actively undertaken by reforming and zealous leadership from within the institute. But more often it is done by forces from without, whether they be persecuting enemies or simply the changing situa-tion which undercuts the prestige and influence that an institute and its members previously had. In other words, the attitude of religious poverty involves not only the personal striving for a simple and humble life because it is evangelical, but also the willingness o~ the institute and its members to accept radical changes in the institute itself. This is probably the most deeply purifying aspect of religious poverty today, for even institutes which ap-pear to be affluent may actually be in serious jeopardy regarding their very existence. If the readiness to renounce the institutional fixity and security of religious life is the negative aspect of poverty, its positive aspect is the affirmation of community and of the supremacy of community over institute. Stated sim-ply, this means that people and human relations are more important than efficiency and order. It is the recog-nition that the friendship and love of its members are a deeper and more stabilizing reality than the institute's more public, organizational strength and cohesiveness. The spirit of poverty recognizes that human beings, feelings, and personal relationships are very often more important than reason and structural orderliness. This positive aspect of poverty is merely a specialized mode of Christian charity and an effective way of growing in it. It might be summed up in Paul's admonition: "Bear one another's burdens and thus fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal 6:2). The sharing of common life is not just a sharing of board and material goods. It is more deeply a sharing of humanness, of cares and ~anxieties, joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, actuated through love. Such is the very deep human reality affirmed by evangeli-cal poverty. When poverty is interpreted in the Biblical sense of God's special love for the little people who are often crushed by oppressive power structures, then it becomes a theme readily understood and appreciated by many of the rising generation today. Furthermore, the sharing of both material possessions and personal burdens as cor-porate affirmations of evangelical poverty responds to ideals meaningful and attractive today, even though ad-mittedly very difficuh to realize in actual practice. In any case, looking at poverty in this way does provide a remedy to the temptation of leaving the religious life ¯ because of radical institutional changes. Actually, the insecurity occasioned by such changes give the religious an opportunity to live out his profession of poverty more deeply in its renouncement of worldly security and .prestige, and also in its affirmation that people are more ~mportant than structures and things. According to the spirit of the poor Christ, the future is made secure not by possessions or good administration, but directly by reliance on the love and care of divine providence. Moreover, all laws and organizations are to be judged not on their merits as customs and tradition, but rather as service to real needs of real people. There were hardly any religious traditions as sacred to Israel as those regu-lating the Sabbath, yet Jesus pointedly declared: "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath" (Mk 2:27). The Commitment of Celibacy Celibacy is the renunciation of the intimacy of mar-riage and married love. It is the giving up of the kind of companionship and fulfilhnent specifically found in 4- 4- 4- Reli~iou~ as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 ]3 + + + G. L. Coulon and R. J. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 marriage and family life. Certainly this is the sacrifice of very great human values, and snch a renunciation is bound to leave a certain hole or void in our lives and be very keenly felt in hours of loneliness and frustration. Coukl it not be that in the intense desire for "com-mnnity" spoken of so much today among religious there is something of the yearning for the kind of personal shar-ing normally found in marriage and blood relationships? This would not mean to condemn such a normal and instinctive yearning, and community life should strive as best it can to create an atmosphere of home. But never-theless celibacy does renounce family and marriage. The readiness to leave father, mother, husband, wife, sister, brother for the sake of following Christ is the affirma-tion of the relative value even of these most wonderfnl human realities of intimacy and fellowship in marriage and family life. This means that ~ust as poverty is the rennnciation and relativization of the institutional to affirm the su-premacy of the community, so in turn celibacy is tl~e renunciation and relativization of the community ele-ment to affirm the supremacy of the strictly religious. Now of all the features of religious life today, perhaps celibacy is the hardest for Western secularized man to appreciate, since in modern philosophies the sharing of persons characteristic of marriage has become a strong contender for the place of absolute value in human life. To renounce this particular value out of love for the un-seen Lord readily appears to many of our age as dehu-manizing folly. Of course, the argument that celibacy makes one more available for service to people contin-ues to give it some humanistic value; but in accordance with the gospel its motivation is supposed to be a direct, loving companionship with Christ. What is affirmed is love of Christ, direct union with Him in friendship; and the service of His people is to be an overflow and witness of this love, wherein we share in His own mission and love those (lear to Him with His own love. Celibacy thus affirms that personal union with Christ is a religions value so great and appealing to the hnman heart that we will sacrifice for it even the great human values of conjugal and family intimacy. That such re-nouncement of human community con/d result in full-ness rather than emptiness of heart will always remain a paradox and mystery. Bnt to know the risen Lord in friendship is already a beginning of His final Appeariug and thus represents a concrete anticipation already in this life of the riches of the eschatological kingdom of God. It implies a divine gift of living out an eschatologi-cal love where fellowship with others is based on sharing in the direct and intimate fellowship with the Lord, such that one finds union with the hearts of one's fellow hu-man beings fundamentally through one's personal union with God. This should mean, then, that the absence of human community should be no argument to abandon the vows to seek it elsewhere, for one's religious calling is to share Christ's mission of bringing the dead to life and building up the kingdom of love. The calling to renunciation of marriage is in the very confirming of a union with Christ and His own mission of redeeming man through reconciliation and building fellowship. The vocation is to love with Christ's freedom, to decide to be available as a grace to others for their sake, and the source of tiffs is the direct; personal friehdship with Christ. The mission is to bring about the fellowship of Christ-in-us, and the grace to do this comes through the religious union with Christ as beloved. Those who seek only the achieved fel-lowship want the kingdom without sharing Christ's effort to build the kingdom. They want the risen glory without sharing the way of suffering and self-crucifixion, which ac-cording to God's mysterious plan is necessary to its full realization. The Commitment of Obedience Often religious obedience has been presented as an attitnde of snbmission to legitimate superiors. Certainly obedience as compliance with authority is a necessary part of any ordered society; without it chaos is just around the corner. Obedience in this very human sense is one aspect of religious obedience. But the Biblical theme of obedience to God's reign is much more com-prehensive than simply submission to religious author-ity. It is not first of all a passive submission, but rather an active acceptance and a willing of the will of God, somehow found in every person we meet, in every place we live, and in every decision we and others have made that has affected our lives. Even in every failure to at-tain our aspirations the reign of God somehow triumphs. In other words, when we speak of religious obedience in the spirit of Jesus, we refer to the attitude of full ac-ceptance of God calling us to a personal destiny in and through the very stuff of our lives, including the people, events, failings, and attainments that make up our his-tory and our very self. The theme of evangelical obedi-ence is intimately tied np with the divine mystery of vocation and the human mystery of self-acceptance. It recognizes that in Christ the reign of God is present and at hand over our lives. In our acceptance that God's will is being revealed in and through our lives, we are also being led to that full and active self-acceptance which somehow enables us to come to grips with our-÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Vows as Commitment 4. 4. 4. G. L. Coulon and R. ~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 selves anti find a deep, inner peace throngh accepting and loving ourselves just as we are. Evangelical obedience is evidenced by tl~e saying of lesus that His food is to do the will of the Father (see ~n 4:34). He is sent fromthe Father to fulfill a destiny pre-establisbed by God's choice. As sons in the Son, we too are to acknowledge that we are chosen in Christ, that from all eternity our lives have been uniquely pre-ordained in terms of following Christ and sharing in His destiny (see Eph 1:3-7). We are called into His Church to bear fruit through living by His word and building up the kingdom of God on pathways .already prepared for us by providence (see Eph 2:10; Pb 2:13). We are to live in response to the calling and destiny chosen by the Father. Tiffs means living out of a fundamental decision of submitting to God's will over onr lives, whatever it is, even if it means accepting a chalice of suffering. The vow of obedience concretizes this fundamental submission to God's reign over us by our acknowledging a calling to the religious life as God's will for our life. Taken publicly and accepted by Christ's Church in an official capacity, the vow by its very nature implicitly includes the other two vows as a covenant of religious life. The obedience vowed is a faithfulness to the reli-gious life in this community made out of response to the will of God over onr life. Once made and accepted in Christ's Chnrch, the pnblic vows remain as a perma-nent sign of divine vocation and our human acceptance. Such a recognition of God's reign signifies that it is not we who have first loved God, but God who has first loved us. It is not we who are to determine what is to be our fnlfilhnent, but God's will determines what we are to be. We enter the religious life not because it is our own best way to God as attainment of deep prayerful-ness and the fullness of Christian virtue, but rather simply because the religious life is God's will for us. To put this in the terminology we have used for the other vows, religious obedience is the renunciation and rela-tivization of the highest religious values and the affirma-tion of the supremacy of God's reign of love over every-thing else. It affirms that God's choice over us is the su-preme valne. We have become vowed to the religious life nltimately not because it is our best way to be saved, or even to exercise Christian service, but rather because God has chosen us thus to bear witness in the Body of Christ. Its basis is not that religions life is best for ns, or most appealing, but rather that we are meant to be reli-gious. This we bare affirmed by public vows in the Church, and made a personal covenant with God calling upon Him to accept this kind of offering of our whole life given as response to His will for us. This, then, provides a thorough r~medy to the tempta-tion of relinquishing the religious life should it seem that we are not being thereby fulfilled as Christians. The event of our public covenant of vows remains a perma-nent indication of our vocation and our self-acceptance under God's plan. Should this be doubted as a sign of God's will, where are we to find a surer sign? What cri-terion could be presented by providence as dissolving the terms of the covenant already made and accepted through Christ's Church? That we are not good religious is no argument for leaving, since this points out our own un-faithfulness to the covenant and its recogriition is a sign that grace would lead us to repentance. That our prayer life be dried up or our apostolic efforts unfruitful and frustrated is no sign against continuing our covenant, for we have already acknowledged that the supreme value is not our own will or our own way to God, but rather that God wills us to be religious. His love is to be su-preme, even over the highest values of what we consider our own religious fulfillment. The aspect of obeying religious authority readily fits into this framework of obedience to God's will as destin-ing us to the religious life. Included in our response to that will is faithfulness to the duties of being a religious called along with others to form an evangelical and apo-stolic community. The obedience committed means a dedication to the common good of the community, re-sponsible for serving God's people. This common good is spelled out in many details by the legislation and govern-ing officials of the community. Thus, a docility and re-sponsibility to the assignments and direction of superiors fits into the context of obeying God's will that we be dedicated to our calling as religious. Even the absence of such leadership and management leaves us with our basic responsibility to the common good of community and apostolate. Conclusion We have tried to demonstrate theologically that mak-ing final vows is of its very nature an irrevocable event in our lives. It is a life decision involving a commitment until death, because through this particular institute, through this particular community of persons, and through this acknowledgement of God's reign over our destiny, we have made a covenant with God concerning what we are called to be in Christ's Body. Our perse-verance in the vows comes down to faithfulness and trust. The faitlffulness acknowledges the self-perception of the basic meaning of our life, of what onr life calling is ac-cording to God's design. The trust acknowledges that God has accepted our life-offering under the terms of the + ÷ ÷ Religious Vows as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 vows. Our fundamental Christian witness will always re-main not our own virtue, but rather the acceptance of the Father's will, even should this mean our own weak-ness rather than strength, loneliness rather than human fellowship, and agony rather than the joy of success in our aspirations. + + + G. L. Coulon and R. ]. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 SISTER JUDITH ANN WICK Identity and Commitment of Youn9 Sisters in a Religious Community Abstract: Weak ego identity and hesitancy of commitment are characteristics of contemporary society which are manifest in all institutions, including the religious institution. This study of young sisters with temporary commitments to a re-ligious community of women investigates the function of role models in the attainment of religious role identity, as well as the goal and duration of commitment. The data indicate that role models are influential in the identity formation of these young sisters, that the goal of commitment is ideological rather than organizational, and that opinion is evenly divided on the issue of permanent versus temporary commitment. The past ten years, characterized by rapid social change, have demanded from individuals and institutions a degree of self-examination and adaptation not called for in previous decades. To survive in contemporary so-ciety, institutions and individuals must search for and question their purpose and identity. This climate is per-vasive; it has penetrated what were formerly regarded as the "secnre" places in society where one was assured o[ identity and purpose. This paper illustrates the perva-siveness of social change, showing how change in secular society, coupled with change in the Catholic Church has converged to create problems of identity and institutional loyalty for young members in a religious com~nunity of women. Change in Secular Society Contemporary America's society makes it difficult for an individual to achieve a strong ego identity. Erikson defines ego identity as a unity of personality, felt by the individual and recognized by others, having consistency in time, and being an "irreversible historical fact" (1960: 11). Several factors in a technological society mili- Sister Judith Ann is a member o[ the sociology depart-ment o[ Briar Cliff College; ~03 Re-becca Street; Sioux City, Iowa ~1104. VOLUME 30, 1971 19 + 4. + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O tate against this unity, consistency, and historical conti-nuity. Keniston enumerates these factors in the following manner: "Rapid and chronic social change, fragmenta-tion and specialization of tasks, decline of traditional 'gemeinschaft' communities, discontinuity between a warm, dependent childhood and a cold, independent adult world, theabsence of a utopian, positive myth for society, and the predominance of the rational in a 'tech-nological ego' " (1960). Ego identity is achieved by a complex interaction of factors, one of the most important being the observation of others acting out the role one hopes to fulfill himself someday. Observation of role models is difficult also. Age and sex roles are less clearly defined today than they were formerly, in part because the adult models which young persons have to follow are often inadequate for one who mnst find his place in a technological society: The young, who have outlived the social definitions of child-hood and are not yet fully located in the world of adult com-mitments and roles, are most immediately torn between the pulls of the past and the future. Reared by elders who were formed in a previous version of the society, and anticipating a life in a still different society, they must somehow choose be-tween competing versions of the past and future (Erikson, 1963: 169). As adult models become less influential in establishing norms for the decisions of the young, the range of choices involved in the decision-making process expands. Para-doxically, as the chances for a secure ego identity have decreased, the freedom [or independent decision-making has increased. Other factors in addition to the disappear-ance of adult role models have contributed to this free-dom. Career opportunities have multiplied with advanc-ing technology, and the number of careers open to women has increased. These factors have combined to create a situation in which the young person searching for his basic ego identity is confronted with a wide range of possibilities and practically unlimited freedom to choose. The decreasing influence of role models and the in-crease in freedom of choice are accompanied by a reluct-ance on the part of young people to ratify adult values. This expresses itself in a detachment and lack of enthusi-asm which restrains them from "going overboard" and so helps to avoid a damaging commitment to a false life style or goal (Erikson, 196~; 169). Erikson calls this hesi-tancy and period of delay in commitment "role morato-rium." One delays accepting certain values and in the intervening time "tests the rock-bottom" of these values (1963: 11). Change in the Catholic Church Weak ego identity and the accompanying independ-ence of choice and hesitancy of commitment are results of changes which have ramifications in the sacred as well as the secular realm. The religious realm formerly was the haven of security where an individual could be certain of finding out who he was and where he was going. The Catholic Church, characterized by an unchangeableness which held it aloof from the turmoil of secular society, was the prime example of an institution that still pro-vided the perplexed individual with answers to his ques-tions. The religious subculture was well-defined, stable, confidence-inspiring, and secure (Emery, 1969: 41). However, the technological changes which brought about rapid social change in secular society also affected the sacred element in society. Within the Catholic Church, the Second Vatican Council which met from 1962 until 1965 was a response to the changing secular society. The Council was an attempt to reform practi.ces within the Church to make them more meaningful to contemporary man. In order to do this the strong link which the Church had. with the past was broken. The continuity of external practices which had been mistak-enly identified as essential to faith was gone, and the same insecurity and lack of identity experienced in the secular world was present in the religious realm. With its emphasis on collegiality rather than concen-tration of all authority in one individual, the Council expanded the decision-making power of individuals within the Church. Not only, then, did the individual find external, non-essential practices changed, but he found himself confronted with a range of choices and freedom in decision-making in the sacred realm of his life. What had once been stable and unchanging took on the same changeable, impermanent characteristics of the rest of society, and what had once been an unquestioning commitment to an unchangeable institution became a less certain and hesitant identification with a set of be-liefs and practices which had been accepted without test-ing their value. Change in Religious Communities The changes in secular society and in the Catholic Church have radically affected religious communities of women. Once considered the most "total" of institutions, communities have been undergoing a "de-totalization" process, brought about by the Second Vatican Council and the rapid rate of social change in the secular world. The most visible changes have been in the area of clothing and rules regarding relationships and activities ÷ + ÷ ~dentity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 21 ÷ Sister Judith A nn 22 outside of what were formerly considered the "bounda-ries" of the religious community. These changes in exter-nal characteristics, like similar changes in the Church, have broken a visible link with the past and made the identity of a religious sister less dependent upon external symbols and behavior patterns. With these changes has come an emphasis on individual responsibility and free-dom of choice, thereby altering the relationship between the individual sister and the institution of the religious community. Loyalty to the institution no lo/iger means responding to directives from those in authority since collegiality gives authority to all. Changes in the institu-tion make the permanent commitment required by the religious community appear less desirable. The hesitancy manifested in the secular world in regard to assuming a value or life style that might not be functional in the [t~ture has its counterpart in religious communities. It is not coincidental that the theology of a temporary reli-gious vocation appeared for the first time less than five years ago (Murphy, 1967; Orsy, 1969; Schleck, 1968; Smith, 1964). It is obvious that the identity of a religious sister and her commitment to the religious community are not measured by the same criteria as they were in the past. The new definitions of identity and commitment are not yet clear and are dependent upon individual characteris-tics. Given these changes within religious communities, the recruit to religious life no longer enters a stable and permanent organization with older members serving as role models. The new identity she is to assume and the institution to which she is to commit herself are as ambig-uous as her previous experiences in the secular world. Young members of a religious community still involved in the socialization process of their "formation" years have come from a secular situation in which ambiguity of identity and lack of permanence are dominant character-istics. It is to be expected that their prior experiences in this type of secular society, coupled with the changes in religious organizations, will influence their identity as religious sisters and their commitment to the organiza-tion in which they are being socialized. It is the purpose of this study to investigate the identity and commitment of this group of sisters. Ti~e strength of identity as a religious sister is measured by the influence of role mod-els, with more influence indicative of stronger identity. Commitment refers to consistent lines of activity which persist over a period of time, serve in the pursuit of a goal, and imply the rejection of certain alternative cri-teria (Becket, 1960; 33). Two of these aspects of commit-ment-- the time element and the goal pursued~are con-sidered in this study. Methodology To investigate the identit-y and commitment of young sisters, a pretest using a structured interview schedule was conducted. Twenty-five sisters, all with one-year "tempo-rary" commitments to their religious community were interviewed.1 On the basis of these responses, a question-naire was constructed which included twelve questions with alternative responses listed and one open-ended question. Five of the twelve closed-ended questions dealt with basic demographic information--age, length of time in religious life, size of home town, size of town in which presently working, and type of work engaged in. Four dealt with the decision to enter religious life--time of the decision, influential factors, and permanency of the deci-sion as viewed at the time of entrance. The other three closed-ended questions were designed to secure informa-tion about the sister's present understanding of religious life, influential factors in arriving at this understanding, and factors keeping the sister in religious life. The open-ended question dealt with the sister's attitude toward permanent commitment to religious life. The questionnaire was sent to all temporarily comnait-ted sisters who were members of a single Midwestern religious community.'-' Eighty-eight questionnaires were distributed; eighty-one were returned. Five of these were eliminated because responses were incomplete or ambigu-ous. This left seventy-six questionnaires for analysis. Description oI the Sample The mean age of the sisters responding was 23.88 years. They had been members of the religious community from four to seven years, with 5.99 years being the mean number of years as a member. Forty-four (58 per cent) of the respondents decided to join the religious community during their senior year in high school. Fifteen sisters (20 per cent) decided earlier than their senior year, and sev-enteen (22 per cent) decided later. Thirty-eight sisters (50 per cent) identified their home towns as farms; another twelve (16 per cent) indicated that the size of their home town was less than 2500. Fourteen sisters (19 per cent) joined the religious com-munity from cities with a population of greater than x After a period of eight years during which a sister makes ooe- )'ear commitments to the religious community, she is eligible to make a permanent commitment. If she does not choose to do this, she leaves the religious community. She is also fi'ee to leave at the expiration of any of the one-year commitments. ~ Selecting the sample from the same religious community allows for control of the rate of change occurring within the religious com-munity and the type of formation program used in the socialization process of the young sisters. ÷ ÷ 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 23 TABLE 1 Occupations of Young Sisters Occupation No. of Sisters % of Sisters Primary grade teacher Middle grade teacher High school teacher Student Upper grade teacher Homemaker Religious education Nurse Other Total 16 14 12 12 9 4216 76 21% 19 15 15 11 6 19 100 + 4- 4- Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50,000. The remaining eleven (15 per cent) came from towns ranging in size from 2500 to 50,000. When asked to indicate the size of the town in which they were presently working, twenty-three sisters (30 per cent) indicated towns of less than 2500; thirty-one sisters (44 per cent) indicated cities with populations of 50,000 or greater. The remaining twenty-one sisters (26 per cent) worked in towns ranging in size from 2500 to 50,000. From this data it can be said that while 66 per cent of the respondents have non-urban (population less than 2500) origins, only 30 per cent are presently working in non-urban situations. On the other hand, while only 18 per cent of the sisters have large city (greater than 50,000) origins 44 per cent work in large city situations. Table 1 shows the types of work in which the subjects were involved. Fifty-one sisters (66 per cent) were engaged in teaching, with the greatest number of these being pri-mary teachers. Identity as a Religious Sister The respondents' role identity as a religious sister was determined by measuring the inltuence of role models. In this situation role models were defined as older sisters in the same religious community as the young sisters. Two questions were included in the questionnaire to deter-mine the strength of role model influence. One question asked: "What factor would you say influenced you most in deciding to enter religious life?" The second question was: "What would you say helped you the most to arrive at your present understanding of religious life?" Alterna-tives were provided for each of the questions, with space provided for other alternatives to be added. Respondents were instructed to choose only one alternative; those re-sponses including more than one alternative were consid-ered invalid. Response to the question concerning factors influenc- TABLE 2 Factors Influencing Decision to Join Rellg[ous Life Factor % of Sisters The idea that this was something God wanted me to do The conviction that this was the best way to serve Christ A sister in a religious community My family Other Invalid Total No. oI Sisters 47 11 8 2 44 76 61O/o 14 10 36 6 I00 ing the decision to join the religious community is shown in Table 2. From these data it is evident that role models ("a sister in a religious community") were not as influen-tial as other factors, accounting for only ten per cent of the responses. Forty-seven sisters (61 per cent) indicated that joining the religious community was influenced by motivation that could be classified as "supernatural." ("This was something that God wanted me to do.") Obviously, role models were not influential in the ini-tial step of assuming identity as a religious sister. How-ever, we cannot conclude from this that they were not influential at a later time in the young sister's life. Re-sponse to the question: "What would you say helped you most to arrive at your present understanding of religious life?" indicates that role models assume a new importance after a girl has joined the religious community. Table 3 indicates that thirty-nine sisters (51 per cent) indicated that role models ("living with and observing other sis-ters") were the most influential" factor in their present understanding of religious life. From the response to these two questions, it is evident that role models are more influential in the process of TABLE 3 Factor Most Influential in Present Understanding of Religious Life Factor No. of % of Sisters Sisters Living with and observing other sisters Personal reading and reflection Religious life classes Discussions with sisters my own age Other Invalid Total 39 9553 15 76 51% 11 77 5 19 100 4- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 identity formation after the sister joins the community than they are in the process of deciding to join. If the strength of role identity as a religious sister is estimated by the influence of role models, then it can be concluded from these data that, despite changes in the definition of the role, the majority of young sisters do have strong role identity as a religious sister and that this is developed by observation of role models. Goal of Commitmen~ Becker's definition cited earlier speaks of commitment in terms of activity in pursuit of a goal. Members of a religious community agree by their act of joining that community to pursue the goal of the community within guidelines for activity established by the organization. In a sense, then, commitment to a religious community is two-fold: commitment to the goals of the community (usually ideological goals such as living the Gospel in the "spirit of the founder") and commitment to the specific means of living these goals as defined by the organization of the community (e.g., manner of living together, specific rules regarding dress and behavior). The respondents were given two opportunities on the questionnaire to indicate the object or goal of their com-mitment. One question asked: "Which factor listed below woukl you say most clearly differentiates religious life from other forms of Christian living?" Eight alternatives were given, with space to provide others. Table 4 shows the response to this question and indicates that the model response is "community living" which coukl be classified as the organizational aspect of the two-fold goal. "Service to others" could also be classified as [urthering the con-crete organizational goals and non-ideological in charac-ter. Five of the other responses--"celibacy," "visible sign," TABLE 4 Factors Differentiating Religious Life frotn Other Forms of Christian Living 4- 4- 4- Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 26 Community living Intensity of Christian living Celibacy Visible sign; public witness Emphasis on prayer and spiritual life Service to others The three vows No distinguishing feature Other Invalid Total No. of Sisters % of Sisters ~8% 12 12 11 75 29 10 10 95 3 3l2 4 51 3 6 76 100 "prayer, . Christian living," and "tile three vows"--are more ideological in emphasis and removed from the prac-tical, organizational aspect of the goal. If the responses are classified in terms of organizational or ideological e~nphasis, thirty-two sisters (43 per cent) indicated commitment to an organizational goal, while thirty-seven sisters (48 per cent) indicated commitment to ideological goals. This difference is too small to make a statement about the goal of the commitment of the re-spondents. The other qnestion which provided data concerning the goal of co~nmitment was: "What do you see as the most important factor keeping yon in relig!ous life today?" Six alternatives were given for this question with space provided to write in others. Table 5 gives the re-sponse to this question. If the responses are considered as emphasizing either the organizational or ideological as-pect of the goal, it is clear that the majority of respond-ents view the ideological goal as more important than the organizational one in keeping them in the religious com-lnunity. Forty-three (57 per cent) of the responses indicated that the force keeping the sister in religious life is the sense of commitment to a value or an ideal: "It's the right thing for me to do"; "The love of Christ"; "To prove this life has meaning." Twenty-one responses (27 per cent) indicated that tile "holding force" or goal of commitment is identified with the organization: "Faith and hope in our congregation"; "To serve others better." From the response to these two questions, it can be concluded that young sisters view the goal of commit-ment as equally ideological and organizational when they are asked to identify it in an objective type of qnestion. When the qnestion is asked in a more personally oriented manner (e.g., "What are you committed to that keeps you in religious life?"), more sisters identify the goal in ideo-logical terms than in organizational terms. With empha- TABLE 5 Factors Keeping Sisters in Religious Life Today Factor No. of Sisters % of Sisters It's the right thing for me to do The love of Christ To serve others better Faith and hope in our congregation To prove this life has meaning I don't know Other Invalid Total 19 19 14 7 57 41 76 ~5% 25 18 97 9 61 100 ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 27 sis on personal decision-making and collegiality the or-ganizational aspects of the religious community are viewed as less important. Length of Commitment Formerly, commitment to a religious community was viewed as a permarient one, preceded by several years of temporary commitment. Changes in secular society have made permanency and stability almost non-existent, and changes in the Chnrch and in religious communities have reflected this trend. If the commitment of religious per-sons was to unchanging, spiritual values, the factors mili-tating against permanent commitment would not influ-ence religious commitment. However, it has been shown that the object of commitment is twofold: ideological and organizational. Ak the defects of an imperfect, changing, and nnpredictable organization loom large, a sister soon realizes tbat to be committed to the ideological goals of tbe commnnity, she may not need to be permanently committed to its organization. Many temporary organiza-tional and public service alternatives such as Peace Corps are available (Murphy, 1967: 1083). The young sister respondents were asked abont their initial ideas of the stability of commitment to religious life. The qnestion was stated in this way: "Think back to the (lay you came to religious life. Which of the three statements listed below would you say best describes your feelings at that time?" The alternatives ranged from "giv-ing it a try" to "very sure that I'd stay forever." The response to each alternative is given in Table 6. It is evident from these data that 20 per cent of the young sisters viewed commitment to religious life as per-manent tbe (lay they joined the community. However, most of the respondents (80 per cent) indicated that at the time they joined the community there was hesitancy regarding the permanency of their commitment to the group they were joining. + + + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 28 TABLE 6 Attitude Toward Permanency of Commitment of Young Sisters before Joining the Religious Community Attitude I was going to give it a try and see if it worked I was quite sure--not positive though-- that I'd stay I was very sure that I'd stay forever Total Sisters ~7 33 16 76 % of Sisters 36% 44 20 100 The final question was an open-ended one which al-lowed the respondents to express their views on the issue of permanent versus temporary commitment to the reli-gious community. The qnestion was stated: "Some people have suggested that because of all the rapid social change occurring today that commitment to religious life should be a temporary one. How do you feel about this?" The respondents were given ample room to reply, and their opinions ranged in length from one sentence to several paragraphs. The responses to this questi6n were ranked according to agreement with permanent commitment, with four cat-egories resulting: (1) strong agreement with permanent commitment, (2) moderate agreement with permanent commitment, (3) moderate agreement with temporary commitment, and (4) strong agreement with temporary commitment. Thirty-nine of the respondents (51 per cent) strongly agreed that commitment to religious life should be per-manent. Their agreement was categorized as strong be-cause they felt that not only their own commitment, but all commitment to religious life should be permanent. These responses emphasized the necessity of permanency in order to bring security and stability to the individual and to "give witness" to the value of permanency in a world characterized by much impermanency. Typical of these responses are the following: . the rapid social change and the fact that there is so much "un-permanence" in the world today makes a permanent com-mitment all the more meaningful . It seems as though in many instances in life faithfulness is becoming less important and maybe even harder to practice. I think one of the things we religious should show others is fi-delity, keeping one's word with the Lord, as he has done for US . ¯. I feel it should be a life-long commitment. I think there's time for growth in this life that many are not allowing for in the temporary living. Especially today it takes more time to get rooted in a way of life and become persistent in our con-viction and values in that way of life . To really live religious life I think we must have a perma-nent commitment. I think it is only after we have lived a life as deeply as we can and for a length of time that we will blos-som as really selfless people (if we have taken the opportunities all around us to do this). Even though the world is rapidly changing, I think we need to show people it is possible to stick to a life decision . . I feel it is also necessary for one to make a decision and live by it. Those in other walks of life must do it. I think it makes one work harder for the final goal and makes one face up to her real purpose in this vocation . Sixteen of the respondents' opinions (20 per cent) were categorized as "moderate agreement with permanent com-mitment" since they indicate that, while the sister pre- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 29 + ÷ ÷ Si~ter $udith Ann REVIEW FOR R£LIGIOUS 30 {erred a permanent commitment for herself, she agreed that others in the religious community could make a temporary commitment. However, allowing this tempo-rary commitment was viewed as an exceptional measure, outside of the regular structure of the community, but somehow arranged so that those who made this type of commitment would be affiliated with the community. The argutnents in favor of permanent commitment are similar to those given by the respondents who strongly agreed with permanent commitment, as the examples below indicate: I think that for some people a temporary commitment is the best way for them to serve, and opportunity for this should be provided, rather than lose their valuable potential. For myself, a permanent commitment has more value. I want to give myself to something--someone--completely. A temporary commitment would just be putting off this giving of myself. I also think it is psychologically reassuring tbat a decision has been made, and now my whole effort can be put into living out that decision. I also think that people today need and want to see that Christ is important enough that someone will give his or her life to him.This is where a community of permanently com-mitted people has valne. I've thought of a temporary commitment many times. I can see some set-up like the Mormons have--giving two years of service to the church. But I can see that something more perma-nent and stable is needed. I think we have to think of more than ourselves . I think if young people want to serve the church temporarily, there are many other organizations for them. We need something more permanent and definite in this world and I think it should be religious life. I feel that if a person is truly committed to the religious life, her commitment will be a permanent one. However, because of contemporary insecurity and confusion, perhaps persons should be allowed to commit themselves for limited periods of time. I view this as a short-term measure. I feel this option should be given to some people. At the same time, I feel that for those who are able to make a perma-nent commitment this should be allowed because this is very much needed in today's society, too, as people need to witness a sign of permanency someplace. I think there is room for such a thing as a temporary com-mitment to a kind of religious living in our present, changing society. However, I do not think the place for such a commit-ment is within religious communities such as ours. It seems to me that religious life as we know it and are connnitted to is of its essence a lifetime proposition . I woukl favor the idea of something like a "sister-community" for those who wish temporary commitment, and we wonld work closely with and possibly live with these people. Eleven o¢ the sister-respondents (15 per cent) indicatetl "moderate agreement with temporary commitment." That is, while their response indicated agreement with temporary commitment, they indicated that those who desired permanent commitment ghonld be able to live in this way. This category was distinguished from the pre-vious one by its more positive view of temporary commit-ment. These respondents indicated that it should not be consklered exceptional and saw a place for it within the regular structure of the community. A strong emphasis on the individual's freedom to decide on the type of commitment was evident in these responses. In contrast to the other two categories of responses, arguments in favor of permanent commitment were not evident in this category. Typical of the responses are those listed below: I would tend to agree in part to the above statement. ! think a person can or could be committed to religious life for a number of years and then discover it wasn't for them. I also feel that there are people, many of them, who probably could and would be able to commit themselves to religious life for-ever. What I would like to see set up would be a plan whereby a person could dedicate a numher of years to the service of the church in religious life. I believe in a temporary calling or commitment to this life style--not that everyone should enter it on a temporary basis --but the option should be possible. Those that want the sta-bility of life commitment should have it; those that want this life-style for a temporary time of giving, living, growing, searching--it should be so. My first reaction to this idea was negative because it con-tradicted all that I was taught about vocation, but now I think it is a good idea. Mainly because I think this way of life gives each person who is in the least way sincere a very close and special relationship with God the Father. The op-portunities to know and to live God are very uniqne and centered. I just don't think that we can deny this relationship to anyone who desires it. Many times I think this is the reason a person enters religious life, and then maybe later they see that this type of life-style is not for them for various reasons. I believe that people should have the option of a temporary commitment. For some, this may better suit their character and personality, or their goals in life. It allows for changing in-terpretations of values. People enter religious life for different reasons, and for some, their understanding and purpose in re-ligious life might be served by a temporary commitment to it. Ten of the sisters (14 per cent) responded to the ques-tion with strong agreement toward temporary commit-merit. Like the responses in the previous category, these emphasized individual freedom of decision. In addition, they gave positive argmnents for temporary commitment. The tone of these argnments was that commitment to a changing institution cannot be permanent. This is ex-pressed clearly in the examples given below: It is most difficult for one to commit oneself to a certain institution with a permanent commitment to live out the 4- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 31 4. + + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life in a particular way through this institution. Most people today find themselves changing jobs as they themselves change, due to the needs around them, through conditions or events and people they have interacted with . I feel that the commitment to religious life will always be a permanent one as God speaks to the individual, but the commitment to the institution through which the individual witnesses should be a temporary one. I'm beginning to think this is a good idea. I don't think people can take the intense living that community demands for a whole lifetime. Plus today society almost demands people move about and take on new ways of serving and giving. One single endeavor no longer seems adequate. There is a great instability about living which makes any permanent commit-ment an impossible demand. Yes, I think it shonld be temporary because the way religious life is changing now you might not be able to live happily and peacefully in the new conditions. Also, in living out one's commitment in religious life, a person may come to realize that she can commit herself in a fuller way in some other walk of life. I agree with the above statement. I too feel that because of the ever-changing demands and opportunities afforded by so-ciety that one should be flexible enough to r.espond to them as one sees fit which may not necessarily he within the establish-ment or structure of .religious life. I think that commitment to Christ as manifested in a really Christian way of living is the most important factor in one's dedication. The particular life style in which this is manifested may or may not be considered essential by the sister. I think that, in one sense, a real Christian has to "hang loose" with regard to any established institutions of the world. The Christian lives in the midst of many institutions, but must re-member, as Christ did, that institutions arc made for man, not man for institutions. Then the important thing is that a person make every effort to understand reality and develop a deep, honest 3ire attitude. From here on out, the formed Christian's inspiration and intuition is more important than membership in institutions. If this means there should be no permanent commitment to religious life, then there should be none. In snmmary, these responses to the qnestion concerning the permanency of commitment indicate that young sis-ters are evenly divided on the question, with 51 per cent favoring permanent commitment for all, and 48 per cent not favoring this position, although their disagreement with it is in varying degrees. Argnments in favor of per-manent commitment point out the "witness value" of permanency in a world characterized by impermanency, indicating emphasis on the ideological aspect of the two-fold goal of a religious community. Arguments support-ing temporary commitment emphasize the organizational aspect of the goal by stressing the difficulty of permanent commitment to an organization. These same argnments TABLE 7 Lambda Values of Predictor Variables Variable Value of Lambda Attitude of sister before she joined religious commu- .19 nity toward permanency of commitment Type of work Factor keeping sister in religious community Number of years in religious community Factor differentiating religious life from other forms of Christian living Factor leading to present understanding of religious life Factor influencing decision to join the religious com-munity Time when decision to join was made Size of town in which working Size of home town Age of sister ,16 .15 .14 .12 .11 .11 .11 .11 .11 .11 indicate the desirability of maintaining religiotts belie[s otttside of an organizational situation. Predictor Variables of Attitude toward Commitment. In order to investigate the possibility of predicting atti-tude toward commitment from other variables, further ;malysis was done using the responses to the open-ended qnestion regarding perm~ment or temporary commitment as the dependent variable. These responses were dichot-omized (those favoring permanent commitment for all members and those not favoring permanent commitment for all), and contingency tables were constructed using tbe data from eleven of the questions,s On the basis of these tables, the lambda statistic (X) was c;tlculated. Lambda is designed to estimate the percent-age of reduction of error gained by predicting the de-pendent v;triable from knowledge of the independent var-iable. Table 7 lists tbe content of tbe eleven qttestions used as independent v;triables and the corresponding val-ues of lambda. From these statistics it is evident that none of the varia-bles included in the questionnaire nsed for this study could be considered strong predictor variables. The strongest variable--the attitude of ;t sister before she joined the religious cuommunity toward the permanency of her commitment--reduces the error of prediction by a The question concerning the sister's decision to join the religious community: "When would you say you first started thinking about entering religious life?" was inchtdcd in the questionnaire only to clarify the question which followed it concerning the time when the actual decision to join was made, and was not intended for analysis. ÷ ÷ + Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 33 only 19 per cent. In other words, knowledge of a sister's attitude on this topic wonld reduce the "chance" of erro-neously designating her as agreeing or disagreeing with permanent commitment for all members of the commu-nity. Without knowledge of this independent variable, a 51 per cent chance exists of correctly identifying a sister as agreeing with permanent commitment. With knowl-edge of this independent variable, the chance of correct identification increases to 70 per cent. Similar interpreta-tion holds for the other values of lambda, all of which, however, are smaller. + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34 Conclusion From the data gathered in this study, the following conchlsions can be drawn: (1) role models are influential in this group of young sisters; (2) more young sisters view the goal of commitment to the religious commnnity in ideological rather than organizational terms; (3) opinion is evenly divided on the issue of permanent versns tempo-rary commitment; and (4) none of the variables tested are outstanding in their predictive vahle regarding attitude toward commitment. While these findings do not appear to snpport tbe observations regarding cbange in secular society, the Chnrch, ~md religious commnnities, they nev-ertheless provide some basic information useful for fi~r-ther stndy in this area. For example, if none of the varia-bles tested here discriminate in regard to the attitude toward commitment, what variable is a discriminating one? Apparently neither demographic variables--size of a sister's home town, size of town in which a sister is work-ing, her age, or her type of work--nor variables concern-ing a sister's views of religious life and the factors in-fluencing these views can be considered meaningful predictor variables. Even role models, considered as fac-tors influential in the sister's present understanding of re-ligious life, and a sister's goal of commitment (ideological or organizational) do not discriminate in regard to perma-nent or temporary commitment. An area not investigated in this stndy was the family background of the sister, and previous work by Keniston (1960) indicates that certain factors in this area might provide discriminating varia-bles. REFERENCES Abrahamson, E., et al. 1958 "Social Power and Commitment: A Theoretical Statement." American Sociological Review 23 (February): 15-22. Becker, Howard S. 1960 "Notes on the Concept of Commitment." American Journal of Sociology 66 (July): 32-40. Becker, Howard and Carper, James. 1956 "The Elements of Identification with an Occupation." American Sociological Review 21 (June): 341-48. DeMilan, Sister Jean. 1965 "The Insecure Junior Sister." R~.zvIEw fOR RrZLICIOUS 24 (March): 208-220. Dignan, Sister M. Howard. 1966 "Identity and Change in Religious Life." REvi~w fOR R~LIC~OUS 23 (July): 669-77. Emery, Andree. 1969 "Experiment in Counseling Religious." REvizw vo~ RELIGIOUS 28 (January): 35-47. Erikson, Erik H. 1963 Youth: Challenge and Change. New York: Basic Books, Inc. Keniston, Kenneth. 1960 The Uncommitted: Alienated Youth in American So-ciety. New York: Dell Publishing Co. Murphy, Sister M. Cordula. 1967 "Religious Vocation: A Decision." RrwEw voa Rz- ~Ic~ous 26 (November): 1081-89. Orsy, Ladislas. 1969 "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today 40 (February): 347-49. Schleck, Charles A. 1968 "Departures from Religion." R~vi~w ro~ R~o~s 27 (July): 682-715. Smith, Herbert F. 1964 "Temporary Religious Vocation." Rrvlrw voa Rr:- ~o~oos 23 (July): 433-54. ÷ ÷ ÷ ldentity and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 WILLIAM RIBANDO, C.S.C. The Religious Community at the Catholic College William Ri-bando, C.S.C., is a faculty member of King's College; Wilkes-Barre, Penn-sylvania 18702. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 36 Like his brothers and sisters engaged in other aposto-lates, the religious who is employed in higher education in colleges or universities originally founded by members of his order faces serious problems. Drastic changes have occurred since that (lay in the distant past when fathers, sisters, or brothers were sent from the motherhouse to fonnd a Catholic college for the benefit of young men or women who would otherwise not enjoy the benefits bf a Catholic college education. Since then, many such col-leges bave experienced periods of growth which have in most cases led to a notable educational maturity as well as to certain repercussions for the religious and his com-munity. Both in fact and in law many Catholic colleges bave become alienated from the religious communities which originally founded them. This process of alienation of the religious community from the college or university has in many cases come about at the direct volition of the community which planned and implemented the legal and administrative processes necessary. In other cases an alienation in law aml in fact has come about by force of a variety of complex circumstances not necessarily under the control or to the liking of the religious community. Whatever the instigating causes, this process of alienation has brought with it many repercussions in the lives of the individual religious involved in such circumstances. This, taken with the increasing secularization in almost all areas of the life of the Catholic college, has left the reli-gious in a situation which is drastically different from that first experienced by the founders of his college. In the light of the present crisis of the Church and of the concurrent scarcity of religious vocations, it is impera- tive that religious as individuals and as communities rec-ognize the peculiar problems posed by the apostolate of religious in colleges which are in fact no longer run by their communities. This article will attempt to highlight some of these problems as they have become apparent in recent years. Viable solutions to these problems (if there be such) will come only as the result of much community soul searching and frank discussion. Recent conflicts and confrontations on the nations' campuses point to an area of possible conflict between the college or university as institution and the religious com-munity. Younger religious and priests imbued with the Vatican Council's concept of a prophetic Church are anx-ious to speak out on what they consider the grave evils affecting today's society. To remain silent in the [ace of apparent insensitivity towards the evils of war, racism, and poverty would seem an inexcusable betrayal of one's Christian conscience. For a Catholiccollege to acquiesce by its silence to these or other: "crimes against humanity" would seem in the eyes of many religious to be the height of hypocrisy. Yet often college administrators, lay or religious, find themselves by instinct or force of circumstance on the side of the "law and orddr" forces represented by the alumni or local community. The sign-carrying sister or bearded priest picketing the dean's office stands as a threat to the Catholic education past and future which the more conservative laymen or religious has known. One can easily im.agine the tensions created in a reli-gious community where both such concepts of the role of the religious are incarnated in various members. Because they operate from different concepts of what the Church is and does, the two types of religious find it difficult, if not impossible, to accept even the basic honesty and sin-cerity of the other. The religious community must play an important me-diating role in such situations or see itself split into schis-matic factions each claiming to be the one true realiza-tion of what the religions life should be. Open dialogue beginning in the religious community and branching out to all areas and aspects of the campus could go far toward fostering the creative peace necessary in a Christian col-lege community. The bells of the college chapel once loudly proclaimed to the religious that the will of God meant hastening toward the chapel for the morning or evening "exer-cises." Now the religious on campus often wishes that the will of God were spelled out for him in so clear and unambiguous a manner. Although he still has a superior, the religious finds that person or his office no longer playing the role they once did in his life. On most cam- + + ÷ Catholic College Community VOLUME 30, 1971 4. 4. 4. William Ribando REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS puses the offices of president and religious superior have been divided and given to two different persons. The religious, may well find himself consulting his reli-gious superior only on matters which are somewhat pe-ripheral to his professional life. With this fact comes the realization that most of what one is doing is not being done in direct obedience to the religious superior. No vow of obedience has been made to follow the directives of the college president, the (lean or department chair-man, the registrar or the business manager, all of whom may be laymen. Can the will of God be found in the xeroxed memos of all such campus heroes? One hesitates to answer too quickly lest officialdom's latest pronounce-ment be considered binding de fide definita. Yet if the religious is sincerely trying to find the will of God in the demands of his everyday life, he cannot too easily dismiss the directives of such persons as irrelevant to the fulfill-ment of his religious vocation. Here too the members of the religious community have something valuable to contribute to each other. A process of joint discernment and dialogue among people with like goals and aspirations can do much toward discover-ing the will of God in complex and confusing circum-stances. For example, a community discussion may enable a religious to decide whether a particular moderatorship or activity which he has been requested to take charge of will be belpfnl or detrimental to the fulfillment of his overall vocation as a Christian scholar and teacher. Too often in the past when almost every aspect of one's life was under the direct control of the president-snpe-riot, one was made to feel obliged to accept almost any assignment offered lest he be found lacking in the virtue of obedience. An institution which can now insist on the highest professional standards for all its professors and administrators, can no longer expect religious to fill in all the gaps in extracurricular activities at the expense of their own academic and professional development. Many times the religious on the contemporary campus may think of his classmates in various far off missions and wonder who is more the missionary. Altlaougb living con-ditions are no doubt better this side of the. Atlantic or Pacific, the distinction between working with "pagan" and "christian" peoples often seems quite blurred. A highly secularistic and often very hedonistic culture has had its effect on college youth to the point that one can no longer presnppose the real nnderstanding or accept-ance of traditional Christian teachings especially in the areas of personal religious observances, doctrinal beliefs, and sexual condnct. The religious who has done "dorm duty" can be hard put to discern how his students are in any way different in their mores from their counterparts on secular campuses. The creeping suspicion may nag him that he is indeed in a nonchristian missionary terri-tory minus the lions and tigers but replete with other formidable threats to life and sanity. The reactions to such a discovery can be manifold. The individual religiqus or the community as a whole can rend their garments, cry "blasphemy," and withdraw to the cloister emerging only for minimal skirmishes at class time and at graduation. This is roughly comparable to the foreign missionary who waits for the natives to come to the compound. Other religious may elect to recognize the missionary aspect of contemporary college work even if this means a good deal of pre-evangelization of the most basic type. This for many religious will entail considerable readjust- ~nent of methods in educational and pastoral approaches. Obviously no easy solution will be found to a situation so different from that prevailing even ten years ago. Yet the religious commnnity which refuses to examine itself, its methods, and its attitudes toward a changing campus scene would seem to rule itself into irrelevancy. Here too, open and frank dialogue between various segments of the religious community and between the religious commu-nity and students and lay faculty would seem an important means toward establishing the identity and role of the religious community in a campus community grown much larger than the founding congregation or order. One of the more striking differences between the Cath-olic college old and new is symbolized by the contract for religious as well as for laymen. Said document or the lack thereof serves notice to the religious that he is no longer working for the family store but rather for the large chain market which employs him simply on the basis of the contributions he can render to a particular aspect of the institution. The judgment is made on coldly objec-tive evidence with the emphasis on professional qualifica-tions. What degrees has he earned? How many articles and books has he written and how did he fare in the recent teacher evaluations? Is he accepted by his peer group of professors or administrators? This increased stress on professional standards in the Catholic college or university is no doubt yielding a nota-ble development in academic standards at the institutions involved. However, in many cases it also brings with it some less desirable effects. If a contract is to be denied, such an action may have serious repercussions on the community involved. If the administrators involved are religious, they may be accused of allowing a cold-hearted professionalism to supersede the charity owed one's fel-÷ ÷ ÷ Catholic College Community VOLUME 30, 1971 39 4. 4. 4. William Ribando REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 low religious. Rightly or wrongly, suspicions may arise that old grievances are being revenged via a politely pol-ished letter from the front office. Needless to say, such a situation can have enormous effects on the life, spii'itual and otherwise, of any reli-gious community. Factions can quickly form within the community depending on how individuals evaluate the evidence and the persons involved. ShOck at news of a dismissal can lead to a bitterness which may mar the effect of the community long after the departure of the religious involved. Superior and community wonder what their duty toward such a religious might be while the powers of the "institution" move on to the search [or a replacement more in line with the current needs of the college or university. Sholdd a religious community act as mediator or advo-cate for a religious who is being dismissed for whatever reasons? In some cases, the dismissal may indeed be well merited. In other cases, the very fact that a person is a religious may be used to perpetrate a great injustice. A quiet call to a provincial may result in the eviction of a religious who has served an institution well for many years. Under the guise of "obedience" a person m.ay be forced to take up a new occupation [or which he is both unprepared and uninterested. Certainly the least a community owes its members in such a situation is frank and open discussion and investi-gation of the factors involved. If an injustice has been done the collective voice of the community should be heard in the proper places; and, if need be, the contribu-tions and merits of the religious involved should be stressed to the interested administrators. If the dismissal is justified, the community's collective concern might well be demonstrated in assisting the person in finding a suita-ble position either within the same institution or else-where. In any case, a passive noninvolvement of the com-munity in the case of a religious facing such a situation could well lead to grave problems both within and out-side the religious community. These are but a few of the difficulties faced by the religious engaged in the apostolate of higher education. While they probably pale in comparison to the obstacles faced by the founders of most Catholic colleges, they are nonetheless not insignificant because they deeply effect the lives of the religious involved. Only by raising and discussing questions such as those presented can religious communities hope to preserve the unity of life and sense of Christian mission necessary to make a valuable contri-bution to the colleges and universities which they and their predecessors sacrificed so much to establish. THEODORE VITALI, C.P. A Qyestion of Life or Death: Is "Temporary Vocation" a Valid Concept? Among the many questions being discussed today among religious is the question of perseverance. Put in other words, is there such a thing as a temporary voca-tion? This paper is directed to the problem of perseverance in religious life. It is a theological investigation and thus is concerned formally with the theological validity of the concept "temporary" as modifying "vocation." By voca-tion is meant here a life consecrated to God by vows within the visible Church. This paper is not concerned with the problems encoun-tered in religious life, nor with the reasons given by peo-ple leaving religious life. There is a wealth of written material on this subject. The paper is concerned solely with the theological validity of the concept "temporary vocation." Thus there is no moral judgment intended on persons leaving. Christianity is the Paschal mystery of Christ. In Christ's death, humanity was handed over to the Father in perfect worship and fidelity. Through tlie absoluteness of His death, Christ offered the Father perfect worship. St. Paul in the Letter to the Pbilippians spoke of it in terms of obediential self-surrender. Flesh, the antithesis of spirit in the Pauline sense, is rendered spiritual by obediential self-sacrifice. The Father thus raised the Son, because the Son was obedient unto death. In His human-ity, Christ proclaimed through death that His father was worthy of total obedience, worship, and praise. ÷ Theodore Vitali is a retreat master at St. Joseph Spirit-ual Center; 3800 Frederick Avenue; Baltimore, Mary-land 21229. VOLUME 30, 1971 41 + 4. 4. Theodore Vitali REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 Baptism is the sacramental means by which men enter into this worshipful act of Christ. Through it, the bap-tized descends with Christ sacramentally into sacrificial death and rises with Him through the possession of the Spirit. The Christian life consists in living out this exo-dus, sacrificial self-surrender, (lying to oneself, and living for God. ~a the history of Christianity, many expressions of this baptismal consecration have occurred. In the early years of the Chnrch two modes appear: martyrdom and a life consecrated to the living ont of the evangelical counsels. The fathers of the Chnrch point out throughout their writings the importance and significance of martyrdom. To be martyred was the greatest act a Christian could perform. It was to enter into the baptismal mystery to its most profound depths. With Christ, the martyr obedien-tially handed his life over to the Father in praise and worship. By it, he symbolized and witnessed to the world that God is the supreme value of all human existence, to be worshiped and served. He points out equally well that all finite reality is of value only in relationship to the absolnte valne, God Himself. He points out finally that in death with Christ, one receives life transcending all human aspirations. St. Panl expresses this quite clearly in Philippians 3:8-11. Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him. that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in death, that if possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. In a word, by his death, the martyr points out to the world that God is the sole absolute in life, the sole and absolute good, infinitely transcending all finite good, even hnman life itself. Martyrdom is the Christian's es-chatological witness to the infinite worth of possessing God in Christ. There are indications in the Scriptures, too, of a way of life, not of martyrdom, bnt containing its essential char-acteristics. We read of widows following the Lord, of the eschatological dimension of virginity in Panl, of single-mindedness in following Christ. While no one would say this is religious life as we know it today, nevertheless there is present, at least inchoately, the basis from which religions life would emerge. Religions life as we know it becomes apparent during the 4th Century. After 313 martyrdom became less likely for the Christian. It was at this time that men went out into the desert. That same mystiqne which drove men to martyrdom now drove them into the desert. Origen spoke of "martyrdom of the spirit." Some spoke of "dry or bloodless martyrdom.'" There existed the strong desire, charism, to live out to the fullest the baptismal consecra-tion. They wished to die with Christ and live for God, but to do it in snch wise as to witness to the world the absoh=teness of God over man and the world. The vows became the means by which this was accomplished. By them, one handed himself over to God irrevocably, re-nouncing the world for the sake of God Himself. At first, this might see~ like the old fashioned notion that the world is bad and must be fled from. It cannot be denied that this element might have been present and might in fact still be present in the thoughts of those who enter this way of life. However, this is not the significant element in rennnciation; in fact, it is antithetical to it. Karl Rahner, S.J. in his essay "Toward a Theology of Renunciation," appearing in the Sister's Formation Bul-letin, Winter 1966, establishes the natnre of this renun-ciation. The rennnciation is eschatological. Rahner looks to the specific nature of the evangelical connsels as the soul of religions life: Renunciation is constituted by the Evangelical Counsels as a continuing way of life . The theology of renunciation be-longs within the framework of a theology of the Evangelical Counsels, inasmuch as we wish to see renunciation as their com-mon element (p. 1). The religious shows the world the possibility of holi-ness. This holiness is union with Christ, now through the theological virtues, and in eternity through beatific vi-sion: Christian perfection consists solely and exclusively in the per-fection of love, given in Christ .Jesus through the Spirit of God, affecting our justification and sanctification. This love encom-passes God and His spiritual creatures in the unity of His King-dora. Hence it is theological and because of its source, Christ in the Church, and its goal, the union of the redeemed in God, is ecclesial as well. Since it is supernatural, this love severs the human being from the world and his imprisonment in self, and draws him up into the already present but still buried-in-faith life of God Himself (p. 1). It is in these two notions that we have the basis of our theology of religious life and the answer to the questiou of "temporary vocations." Through the evangelical counsels the religious bears witness to the eschatological Christ, the eschatological nature of the Church. This is the important difference between religious life and other forms of Christian life: eschatological witness. This witness consists in the rennnciation of the world as good, not as evil, pointing out the absolnteness and ÷ ÷ + l", "T oecnaat~oo~na~ ry VOLUME 30, 1971 + 4. 4. Theodore Vitali REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS infinitely transcendent value of the love of God above all earthly, finite values. The monk in the desert as well as the religious today witness by their lives the "surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus." The martyr did the same by dying for Christ. They performed an absolute, irrevo-cable act of worship, handing themselves, over to the Father. By his vows the religious does the same. He re-nounced all finite values, precisely as good and valuable, because of and precisely for the infinite value of God. Contrasting the form of witness of the non-religious with the religious, Rahner states: The love of Christ, terrestrially orientated, that is, a love which focuses itself upon terrestrial values and acts out of a moti-vation of supernaturalized terrestrial wdues, precisely as it is earthly, has no clear function of showing forth or witnessing to this world the reality of eschatological love . It conceals rather than reveals that character (p. 2). Such life styles point as well to terrestrial values as motiwttions for activity as well as to supernatural wtlues. In fact, as a sign, it reflects primarily the visible terrestrial value not the eschatological. If we are to ask how this eschatological dimension is to be witnessed to, the answer can only be by the renunciation of the earthly values. It is either meaningless or it is the expression and realiza-tion of faith, hope, and charity reaching toward God, God who in Himself without reference to the world, is the goal of human beings in the supernatural order (p. 2). This, then, is the essential difference. For the non-reli-gious, their lives witness primarily the sanctification of the terrestrial order. By that very fact, they point to the goodness of finite reality, created and redeemed by God. Religious, on the other hand, by renotmcing the finite goods of this world, point to the infinite value of God. They remind the world that God is the absolnte wdue, giving meaning to all finite reality. Only God is the abso-lute motive for existence. Given the premises: (1) the Paschal mystery is the cen-tral mystery of Christianity, (2) martyrdom is the fullest expression of the baptismal consecration into that Pas-chal mystery, (3) religious life is a continuation of the charism of martyrdom, and (4) religious life hits as its essential characteristic the eschatological witness to the infinite wdue of God and the supernatural love of God, then it follows that lifetime perseverance is essential to that witness and is essential therefore to the concept of "vocation" as predicated of religious life. Because the witness is to the absolute goodness of God, apart from the world, an act or life consecrated as such, must of itself be absolute. As with the martyr, the values of the life or act lie in the irrevocableness of the act. There is no halfway measure to death; either one dies or he does not. If the martyr backs down at the last moment, there is no escbatological witness. In fact, the finite is witnessed to instead of the infinite in that it was chosen in preference to the infinite. From tiffs it can be concluded that there cannot be a valid theological reality called temporary religious voca-tion. For a valid witness there must be the irrevocability of the act or life. So long as one can validly opt for the finite within the religious life vocation, the religious life as snch bears no eschatological witness. It contains that terrestrial element which nullifies the premise, namely, that God is of infinite value and meaning apart from the world. To witness the infinite, the finite must be irrevoca-bly renounced. It takes an absolute act to sign an abso-lute reality. By its very name, temporary, the concept of "temporary religious vocation" is invalid. Temporary of its very natnre signifies relativity. Relativity and tempo-rary are opposite to absolute and eternal. It may be objected that this is totally a priori and unsympathetic to present problems in religious life. To say it is a priori is not to judge it false. The position is deduced, but from premises established from revelation, tradition, and history. The theologian has the right to make sncb deductions. To say that it is unsympathetic is to render it an inius-rice. The question set before us was concerned with "tem-porary vocation" theologically viewed. The dynamics of religious life and the problems encountered by members of a given community are integral to the question in general, but are not essential to tiffs question taken spe-cifically. In the early Church many people found martyrdom too difficuh to take. This is understandable. Martyrdom is a great grace, perhaps the greatest. Religious life as the continuance of the spirit of martyrdom in the worhl is also a great grace, perhaps the greatest today. As with the martyr, so perhaps with the religious, the martyrdom is complete only with the irrevocability of death. The vows are sealed nltimately with the death in faith of the reli-gious. Perhaps it can be said that religious life is actually constituted for the individual only at the moment of death when the exodus is complete. Only then is the renunciation complete. Only then is the eschatological witness of one's life trnly established. Anything shy of this final and absolute renunciation may be termed Christian, purposeful, necessary perhaps for the individual, and so forth, but it is not a "religious vocation" as sncb. The only person capable of claiming ÷ ÷ ÷ "Temporary Vocation" VOLUME 30, 1971 45 to be a religious is one who accepts the grace of persever-ance to the end, that is, those who die in their vows. Thus, the constitution of the vocation, religious life, is an ongoing process, constantly affirming itself, but never confirmed until death hassealed it. It seems to me, then, that religious life is a question of life or death. ÷ ÷ ÷ Theodore Vitall REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 SISTER MARY GARASCIA, C.PP.S. Second Thoughts on Pluralism and Religious Life "New breed" anti "old breed" may have been first but othet;s tried harder; and those early, simple labels were quickly upstaged by their more sophisticgted cous-ins in the name game. Transcendentalists and incarna-tionalists, moderates, traditionalists, liberals, radicals, secularists (with sub-species pluralists and urbanists, per-sore/ lists, authoritarians and their opposing numbers)-- all crowtled into the limelight.1 But while the labels may be disputed and ridiculed or accepted and praised, virtn-ally no one dispntes the nnderlying reality: Polarities exist in many religious communities today. Before discussing the main subject of this essay, plu-ralism as a sohttion to polarity, some further description of the problem is necessary. It seems that the tension of polarization is not felt during the first phase of renewal when attention is ab-sorbed by the enthnsiastic and optimistic shedding of restrictions and group practices. With the passage of time and the deepening of the qommunity's dialog with itself, however, a mood of pessimism and tension follows the discovery that changes which were supposed to bring great and true spiritual unity have resulted in many other things indeed: "Many members of Religious Orders who managed to live with each otlter successfully under a rnle and a tradition now seem to find this same bar- * For some of the more recent discussions of groups in religious life today, see the following series of articles: George B. Murray, "The Secular Religious," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 1047--55; Andrew J. Weigert, "A Sociological Perspective on the Secular Religious," REWEW rO~ REL~eIOUS, V. 27 (1968), pp. 871-9; and Placide Gaboury, "The Secular Religious and Pluralism," RE-viEw vo~ R~L~C.~OUS, v. 28 (1969), pp. 604-15. 4- Sister Mary Ga-rascia teaches at San Luis Rey Acad-emy; 4070 Mission Avenue; San Luis Rey, California 92068. VOLUME 30, 1971 47 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Garascia REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 mony impossible on the basis solely of 'love' or 'com-munity.' "'-' As symbolic actions, objects, or idea-con-structs which formerly signified the community's unity become instead points of divergence, and as self-ap-pointed analysts proliferate, confusion and disappoint-ment and fear lead. to the alienation, in greater or less degree, of many members.:~ The phenomenon of anomy (confusion leading to alienation) in religious life has not been adequately studied, but Lachner, drawing upon the work of so-ciologists Durkheim and Merton, gives four effects of anomy on a group: innovation: new means are sought for achieving old goals with the hope that the means can unite where goals fail; ritualism: secure holding on "to patterns of means with little thought about achieving goals; dropping out: this can be done literally or by being uninvolved, indifferent, or unaware; rebellion: active rejection of old goals and means and an attempt to replace them with new ones.4 It should be easy to observe all these behaviors in religious community life today. In recent months the thesis that "honest pluralism must be introduced into the religious life for this time of transition" ~ has been heard with favor by many re-ligious. Is pluralism a legitimate solntion to the polari-zation and anomy described above? Or is the appeal of pluralism actually another effect of anomy by which the commtmity attempts to restore peace through some kind of compromise or coexistence? Religious women who are already prone to sloganism and oversimplifica-tion need to be doubly cautious in this time of insecurity of any euphorions solution to their problems. Pluralism is a complex reality; but it is by no means a new word, coming as it does from the well-established field of ec~menical stt~dies. An tmderstanding of pluralism as it exists "in its native environment" may lead to a more critical application of that concept to religions life. Pluralism: Its Meaning In German, pluralismus (pluralism) has a pejorative meaning; it is an ism and as such it is absolute so that w/file it glorifies multiplicity and diversity, it is also -"James Hitchcock, "Here Lies Community: R.I.P.," America, May 30 1970, pp. 578-82. a Joseph Lachner, S.M., "Anomie and Religious Life," .ro~ R~w,~oos, v. 28 (1969), pp. 628-36; and Reginald Masterson, O.P., "Religious Life in a Secular Age," Cross and Crown, June 1970, p. 142. ~ Lachner, "'Anomie," p. 629. My listing of his effects is slightly modified. ~Thomas O'Meara, O.P., Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Life (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970), p. 16 (italics omitted). intolerant of any worldview or metaphysic that tries to synthesize or establish relationships; hence it leads to subjectivism and individualism. German prefers plu-ralith't (plurality) which means that not only nnitariness and unity but multiplicity and diversity pervade reality and human experience.6 English uses the two words more or less interchangeably, but to Americans pluralism con-notes the variegated religious scene: "By plurfilism. I mean the coexistence within the one political commu-nity of gronps who hold divergent and incompatible views with regard to religious questions . Pluralism therefore implies disagreements and dissensions within the community. But it also implies a community within which there must be agreement and consensus.''7 In its fundamental sense, pluralism is a condition flowing from inan's mtture and the variety of human experience, from tlte nnique spiritual and intellectual histories of indi-viduals and groups, from urban specialization, the knowledge explosion, and Realpolitik: "The transparent, concrete unity of all things exists for man as a meta-physical postulate and an eschatological hope but not as something available for his manipulation. This plu-ralism is the hallmark of man's creatnreliness: only in God is there perfect unity; in the finite world the an-tagonisms within reality are invincible.''8 Pluralism is a condition of the Church which from the beginning welded opposing factions into a commt, nity of faith and love." There is no expression of Christian belief that can exhaust the message of Christ; there have always been plural (but complementary) theologies beginning with the Evangelists?o Pluralism is not merely to be tolerated but cherished by the Church who sees diversity as an effect of the outpouring of the Spirit. Pluralism helps to impede the growth of the wrong kind of collectivism in Church and society and prevents the establishment of privileged groups within the Church--or the establish-ment of the Church as a privileged group in society, for that matter: All modern pluralisms which move man into the center of things, which make him the subject and concern of the world °Heinrich Fries, "Theological Reflections on the Problem of Pluralism," Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), p. 3. *John Courtney Murray, S.J., We Hold These Truths (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1960), p. x. s Karl Rahner and Herbert Vorgrimler, Theological Dictionary (New York: Herder and Herder, 1965), p. 359. "Avery Dulles, s.J., "Loyalty and Dissent: After Vatican II," America, June 27 1970, p. 673. ~o Chenu and Heer, "Is the Modern World Atheist?" Cross Cur-rents, v. 11 (1961), p. 15; and John T. Ford, "Ecumenical Conver-gence and Theological Pluralism," Thought, Winter 1969, pp. 540-1. 4- Pluralism VOLUME 30, 1971 49 ÷ ÷ ,4. Sister Mary Garascia REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50 . which speak of freedom and of the unmanipulatible, in-violable Imman person, of the human dignity and human rights and conscience.which then are realized in the form of tolerance and humanitarianism and institutionally in the form of democracy--all these are original and legitimate fruits from the tree of Christian faith and of the effects which it envokes?' .4berrations o[ Pluralism Pluralism stands Janus-like, its second face something of a grotesque caricature of its first. Analysts of religion in America warn of possible disastrous results of an over-zealous espousal of pluralism. One attthor tohl the anec-dote of the donkey who starved between two bales of hay because be could not decide which to eat. On his death certificate was inscribed: Death due to acute, prolonged open-mindedness. In making the same point about 'plu-ralism, another author stated that "ahhougb it purports to be a total open-mindedness transcending sectarian lim-its, this attitude is really tire familiar Anglo-Saxon fallacy that if one pretends not to-have a metaphysic, then in fact be does not bave one." v, Radical Christians, he con-tinues, tend to embrace a dogmatic optimism which may lead to nihilism. From the. vacuum created by the at-tempt to buihl a cuhure without a consensus based on a belief system can come the substitution of a monolith like the "scientific world view" or "work"; or it can lead instead to a kind of pantheism: "The secularization of the West has not left a vacnum but a terrain filled with images and idols and ideologies." aa One of these idols may be an over-romantic and diffused notion of love inflated to fill the gap and be a Linus-blanket to hippie youth, splinter groups, and middle America alike.~ Or America itself may assume the Supreme Importance with the various religions being merely ahernate and variant forms of being religious in the American ¼Zay.~ In short, what passes for a uniqne unity of diverse religious naen-talities in America may be in fact indifferentism, a syn-cretic pseudo-religion, or a facade with the wars still go-ing on beneath a fragile surface of urbanity.~ Phtralism and the Religious Community I suggest that an urban religious community., would lean toward pluralism: all the members having a common ground, n Fries, "Theological Reflections," p. 15. ~-"James Hitchcock, "Christian Values and a Secular Society," A merica, September 13 1969, p. 159. ~ZMartin E. Marty, Varieties of Unbelief (Garden City: Double-day, 1964), p. 58. "Ibid., p. 77. ~nWillia~n Herberg, Protestant, Catholic Jew (Gardeq City: Dou-bleday, 1960), p. 262; and Marty, Varieties, pp. 148-51. ~ Murray, We Hold These Truths, p. 19. ,; minimal basis of understanding, but each having his own freedom, being his own self, following his own trend, "doing his own thing." Here the role of the "shared common core" would be to protect and stimulate the individuality of each member, to foster diversity and not simply tolerate it.'7 How should a remark like tiffs one be interpreted in light of a mature understanding of the nature of plu-ralism?. Pluralism can be welcomed by the religious com-munity as a legitimate insight and a partial solution to polarization only if it is ~i pluralism which is authenti-cally evangelical. Following from what has been said above, it would seem that at least four statements can be made about pluralism in the religious community. Pluralism and Tolerance There must he an atmosphere of tolerance in the com-munity if diversity is not to result in hostility. Tolerance is born of reverence for the conscience of persons and of the realization that faith is a free thing. Tolerance must be more than polite civility. A person is not "tolerant who is naively unaware of the basic differences that exist be-tween members of his community or who tries to cover over these differences with an imposed unity of his own such as "love" or "personalism." 18 Neither is the one tolerant who believes that everyone should simply "do his own thing." Nor is the tolerant person the one who figures that eventually everyone will come around to his own view or that sooner or later "our day will come." Definitely the tolerant person is not the one who ap-proves any diversity--as long as it is one of the approved deviations permitted by the majority consensus. The tol-erant person has a high "tolerance" for the ambiguons, the imperfect, and the complex. Tolerance is akin to pa-tience. Pluralism and Conflict There will be tension and conflict in the ph~ralistic community and it is unrealistic to expect these to disap-pear in the foreseeable ft|ture. Tile community mn~t be constantly on gnard lest it react to conflict by reverting to a rigid structure, by attempting to stifle criticism, by silencing or ridding itself of individuals or groups who differ with the prevailing consensus, or in any other way hehaving defensively. Genuine pluralism requires ". that we resist policies destined to neutralize specific .and az Gaboury, "The Secular Religious," p. 612. ~sSee the analysis of the shortcomings of the personalist world-view in Gaboury, "The Secular Religious," p. 613. ÷ 4- + Pluralism VOLUME .30, 1971 51 Sister Mary Garascla REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS definite convictions and establish a uniform lowest com-mon denominator . ,, ~9 Pluralism and Diversity Individuality and diversity must be encouraged in a way that is more than a concession to the times. Laws have not yet structured diversity in religious practice into such key areas as spirituality, the vows, communal life, apostolic life; until diversity is sanctioned by law, it must exist surreptitiously and imperfectly. Groups should be able to exist within a community without be-ing made to feel that they are harmful or at least suspect. Rahner points out that groups in the Church are not dangerous in themselves as long as they are not merely representing particular interests, using unchristian means to make their will effective, working as pressure groups using the threat of schism, or confusing human or secular imperatives with gospel exigency.'-'0 Groups in a religious community need to discover their own limits and possibilities. No group should have special privileges; there must be equality of opportunity for the expression of spiritualities and philosophies and personalities. Phtralism and Unity A pluralistic society is one relentlessly searching for unity. Dialog is the process of this search, a dialog charac-terized by openmindedness but also by strong convictions and dedication to the truth, a debate conducted with the spiritual weapons of humility, persuasion, and wisdom. "There is in the Church a singnlar which may never be dissolved into a plural but always remains unique, definitive, unsurpassable, exclusive. . the once-for-all character of Christ, of his person, his history and his achievement." 21 In what shall the unity of the religions community consist? This is the question of the hour. Probably there will not be too many bonds, but they will be profound ones close to the sources of the Christian mystery. Perhaps a deepened appreciation of redemption and mission will hold together a community pluralized by diverse works. There must be a renewal of spirituality in the community, possibly in the direction of a sacra-mental spirituality. The.dialogic search for identity in Christ and the ever continuing effort to renew and purify the community--with the attendant insecurity and tur-moil- can give a sense of tmity to a community which comprehends the ways of the Spirit. Certainly the in- ~°William A. Visscr't Hooft, "A Universal Religion?" Catholic World, v. 206 (1967), p. 34. ~ Karl Rahner, "'Schism in the Church," Month, November 1969, pp. 252-6. '-'r Fries, "Theological Reflections," p. 20. sight into the inviolable dignity of the person, the main contribution of American pluralism, is already acting as a motivating and unifying factor to some degree. Eventu-ally the search for unity must lead to the rediscovery of meaningfid symbols--actions and words which express and point to the reality which is the religious commu-nity. The unity of a community is not real unless it can be expressed in concrete symbolic form. The great task of plnralism is to turn our attention away from pragmatic and structural renewal toward a dialogic search by all diverse elements of a commnnity for the sources of its unity. Tim purpose of this essay has been to reflect on the reality of pluralism as it is understood in ecumenical studies in order to understand what its application might be in the American religious community of today. Taking its cue from the Church, the religious community em-braces its own variety, conscious that through plurality o[ personalities, mentalities, and spiritualities, it can be truly experienced in good deeds and service, a sign of wisdom, and a radiant bride made beautifid for her spouse.'-"-' Vatican Council II, Decree on Renewal oI Religious Lile, n. 1. 4- + + Pluralism VOLUME 30, 1971 53 SISTER MARY FINN Woman Who Is She? Sister Mary Finn is a Hotne Visitor of Mary and lives at 356 Arden Park; Detroit, Michigan 48202. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 54 The gospel of Mary is the good news of woman. Woman is the one who sets out, goes forth, quickly--to the city. town., street; into the hill country., house of Zach-ary; greeting Elizabeth. proclaiming., magnifying. Woman is the one who magnifies--the one the Lord God magnifies. The Lord proclaims His greatness in her; over-flows with love and delight; praises her; rejoices in her. He sets His eyes upon her; blesses her for all generations. Woman goes to a town . to Jesus. Jesus is the town. Jesus is where she lives, pours out her love, receives full-ness and riches of earth. She comes to hill country., to home of all the Zacharys there are. Woman is honse of Zachary, house of birth, house of brothering, sistering; house of new life; place of communion, so

Issue 27.4 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to l~vmw FOR I~LmmUS; 6~ Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3=I Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University~ the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at428 East Preston Street; Bahirnore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class post.age paid at Baltimore, Maryhmd. Single cop~es: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )'ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIE~,' FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REWEW vo~ RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REview ro~ R~LIGIOGS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 4 DAVID T. ASSELIN, s.J. Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment My purpose is to situate personal spiritual discernment in the context of faith-growth, that is, Christian matu-rity. From this viewpoint, to educate the faith is less a question of theological instruction than one of guided. spiritual experience. I am thinking of the teleioi of Hebrews 5:14, "the mat~[re who have their faculties trained by experience to discern between good and evil," an excellent summary of the Spirit's work of restoration out of the chaos which resulted from man's original attempt to determine good and evil for himself and on his own. The term could also be translated "the perfect," or, perhaps, "the personally fulfilled." Faith, throughout this discussion, should be under-stood in the sense of Vatican II's Decree on the At~osto-late of the Laity: Only by the light of'faith [the impressive word is "only"] and by meditation on the word of God, can one always and everywhere recognize God, in whom "we live and move and have our being," seek His will in every event, see Christ in all men whether they are close to us or strangers, make correct judgments about the true meaning and value of temporal things, both in themselves and in their relationship to man's final goal. ¯ Ex.cept for meditation on Scripture nothing is said in this text about the means of maturing the faith. The Council simply outlines the content of adult faith. What I should like to explore is an indispensable element in the process of maturation of this content. The truth of the matter is that faith is not primarily a source of answers to our questions but rather our answer to the Lord's question; "Lovest thou me?" In other words, I take faith not as quest for answers (to our in-tellectual problems) nor as a set of answers (to the ques-tions of "others), but as the answer "of the whole person 4, David T. Asselin, S.J., is spiritual di-rector at Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 27, 1968 581 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 to the Lord inserting His Person and Spirit, and thus articulating Himself as the divine Word, in human life. My general proposition is that at the very heart of growing in faith we find, necessarily, a refinement and increase of the grace of spiritual discernment. Without discernment there is no growth in faith. Spiritual dis-cernment, therefore, is less a question of being intellec-tually clever than of being graced and called by the Lord to grow in knowledge of Him. All things serve the Lord of history; all persons are called to be the vehicles of His creative will; all men willy-nilly serve the God of human history's purposes. Otherwise, they would not be introduced into ongoing incarnational history. However, not everyone, so far, seems to hear the call to know the Lord he se~wes, to know Him as a friend does a friend, as a son his father, a wife her husband. To know Him is the mark of spiritual growth and maturity. Faith-growth is God's work. Man can do no better than collaborate with the divine initiative in his spiritual life. This seems to imply several things. First of all, as the spiritual point of departure, it de-mands an openness to being moved by God. This is the key to obedience as well as to all spiritual encounter. The fundamental Christian attitude, then, is that of a listener, one who is open to divine initiatives whatever they might be. It is radically and essentially a prayer-attitude, one that continues, or ought to continue, be-yond prayer into the apostolate and every other work or experience. The second implication is a need for some continual scrutiny and reflection in regard to the experiences inte-rior to 6neself in prayer and in all life's situations. This self-examination is needed not merely to lay hold of juridically impt.~table faults but more importantly to grow in habitual discrimination and discernment-by-faith of the various, interior experiences and personal spiritual calls--impulses, inclinations, attractions, re-pugnances, assaults--that occur much more frequently than perhaps we either admit or spiritually discern. The third demand is a growing ability to recognize and respond only to those experiences which are dis-cernibly frotn the Lord. Here, in the area of concrete affectivity, are the contacts with the Lord's divine initia-tives guiding the individual person or community. The difference between personal spiritual direction and spir-itual government of a community involves a difference in the mode of spiritual scrutiny and recognition of the divine will in the concrete. Whatever accidental dif-ference may emerge in the mode of reflection on ex-perience, both the community scrutiny and the ifldi- .vidual scrutiny lead ultimately to the possibility of a response which we may call "rightly ordered," a direct response to inner vocation that gives first place to answer-ing the.Lord's question, "Lovest thou me?" In brief, these three requirements---openness to spir-itual experience, reflection on it, and response-ability to it--are basic elements in the growth of personal sensi-tivity to the initiatives of the Lord, or spiritual discern-ment. Whether on the community or individual level, in order to achieve government, spiritual direction, or faith-growth, the cooperation of several is required. The director 'and the directed, the superior and the subject, the spiritual father and his "son,'~ must both be. humbly alert in a collaboration of listening to the Lord's Spirit~ The basic relationship of spiritual direction and govern-ment is a structured team-work of director and directed in discerning the will of the Lord in concrete~ situations. Both, then, must be continually subordinated to the Lord's Spirit and His word as the principal director. The hierarchy of subordination, in the context of spir-itual direction, is that of a human directo]: who by his calling is the servant of a relationship growing between the one directed and the Spirit of the Lord. In a sense, then, the human director takes his stand, spiritually, in the lower, not the higher, place. In this relationship of spiritual direction, destined to serve the Lord's creative work in the individual and in the ~ommunity, the responsibility falls first on the Lord Himself, secondly on the group or the individual' called to Him, and finally on the servant of their relationship, the spiritual director. If there" is any subordination to human direction in responding to God, this sub-ordination must be established by the Lord and guaran-teed. by Him (or by a convenant or pact freely entered into on the part of the subject). Growth in discernment of the action of God's Spirit is, then, the thing which truly matures and estab-lishes in the faith a spiritual person or community. An authentic spiritual community is one which can be described in terms of its real awareness of being moved and directed by the Holy Spirit, on many levels. This awareness is not just found vaguely throughout the com-munity but according to the clearly defined functions of properly subordinated individuals. As we find in the Gospels, to be great in the community° of the Lord is to be the least and servant of all. The work of the one wh~)se responsibility it is to direct others is a work of assisting them, as individuals and as a group, to hear and respond better to the Lord's initiatives in every ,situa-tion. This direction or government is a spiritual thing pre2 ÷ 4, Maturity and ¯ Discernment ~VOLUME 27, 1968 583 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 cisely to the extent that it is collaboration with the Lord's Spirit, the ultimate director and superior. The Lord's indications, leads, initiatives, must be discerned as coming from Him and then followed, if a man is to serve the Lord in a way befitting man, that is by knowing the Lord he serves. There is, then, a need today to respect the importance and centrality of interior, personal, spiritual experience without undue fear of false mysticism or of the folly of the enthusiasts, quietists, alumbrados. Moreover, we must investigate the area of spiritual experience today because the Church is not only inviting ns but requiring us to do so, in the words of one who cries out: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:11). The word "maturity" has been aptly defined by the Swiss psychologist, Jean Piaget, who made extensive studies of children in their process of development. Mh-turity, he found, is simply an increase in the capacity to differentiate in a practical manner interior experiences and operations. If we adopt this definition, then the life of faith in a man is mature to the extent that it involves a capacity to reflect upon, understand, discriminate be-tween, and respond to, the inner spiritual stimuli that he experiences within himself. The Lord's Personal Call It might be well here to suggest some relationships between general law or principle on the one hand, and individuated personal experience on the other. To di-vorce the two is to fall into legalism and moralism, or into a kind of situation-ethic. The problem is how to relate these poles. It is true that general law and principle rightly and concretely circumscribe each personal situation. But they do so only to the extent that this situation is common to all men, and not proper to this person as such. I mean that the situations of Peter and of Paul are cor-rectly guided by general principle only insofar as Peter and Paul are men, therefore impersonally considered, not insofar as they are distinguished from each other by name. Peter qua Peter is more than just a man. In this regard permit me to draw attention to the per-fect way of knowing a man, intimately and personally, which is the Lord's way of knowing him, that is, by name. We read in Isaiah 43:1: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine." Or again, in John 10:3: "The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them forth." Scripture continually reveals the personal and intimate knowledge that the Lord has of each of His creatures: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you" (Jer 1:5); "Lord, you have pi:obed me and you know me, you understand my thoughts from afar, with all my ways you are familiar, even~ before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it, where can I go from your Spirit, from your presence where can I flee" (Ps 138:139). Just as it is clear that the Lord knows and calls each man by name, it is equally clear that man becomes spir-itually mature to the extent that he can recognize and acknowledge who it is that is calling him, responding to . the Lord by name in all things: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers the day I took them by the hand to lead them forth from the land of Egypt. For they broke my covenant and I had to show myself their master, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the House of Israel after those days, says the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they have need to teach their friends and kinsmen how to know the Lord. All, the least to the greatest, shall know Me, says the Lord, for I will forgive their evil doing and remember their sin no more (Jer 31:31ff.). It seems clear, here and elsewhere in Scripture, that God is establishing with each human person as well as with His community a new spiritual relatiqnship of tremendous value which exceeds the expectations of authentic Chris-tian personalism today. In order to discover the meaning of Peter qua Peter, and of Paul as unique and distinct from Peter, in the context of universal salvation history (which, after all, is the task in which spiritual directors and superiors are, I believe, primarily intended to assist), it is necessary to discover the unique meaning, value, and orientation that is proper to Peter's spiritual situation precisely as distinct from Paul's, before the Lord. By what kind of logic is this sort of knowledge attained? Over and above the universal validity of general principle and law, Peter, as an unrepeatable, unique individual, must be guided by a logic that is other than the logic of general principle and universal law. In other words, there are two kinds of logic. One logic, which .we might call conceptual or proposi-tional, is the basis for reasoning in universally valid terms. The point of departure, the principle or the foun-dation from which the successive insights and conclu-sions proceed according to this logic will be an axiom. It begins therefore with a self-evident proposition. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 585 D. T. As~elin, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 Logic o[ the Concret~ .There is another logic, however, the Jogic of con-crete, unique, and individual events and persons (which, inCidentally, is the w, ay God apprehends things). Here, . the human foundation or first principle will no longer be an axiom but an experience. As the logic of conceptual knowledge is based on axiomatic, propositions, so the logic of concrete knowledge is based on concrete ex-perience. Mature faith-response to the Lord's word can emerge only from personal encounter with Him. I think it is the job of superiors and spiritual directors to point to those authentic experiences whereby the Lord is communicating Himself to individuals and communi-ties, thus guiding their spiritual growth and governing their development as Christian persons. This concret~ knowledge of the Lord and of His ways. can only be had, as the Vatican Council proposes, "by meditation on the word of God." Faith-growth is inseparable from prayer-life. Both are areas of fundamental concern to all who are called not only by the Lord's, "Lovest thou me?" but also by His, "Feed my lambs and sheep." What, therefore, the individual as such ought to de-cide in the area of liberty and private responsibility cannot be fully determined by general principle or law. It is of vital importance, however, that what is decided be determined with spiritual certitude, not merely by guesswork, accident, or whim. This is precisely why reliable, that is, mature, faith-discernment of interior experiences and, events is important. Otherwise, we run a risk of considering these experiences as mere psycho-logical phenomena, avoiding the whole world of con-crete events in function of which spiritual discernment and maturity can take place. Rather, we must approach the world of private and group e~perience as filled with the glorious presence (shekinah) of the Lord, the indications of His will and concrete providence, and perhaps .the presence of an adverse spirit. Hence, it is only a faith-awareness and dis-cernment of these events which can lead to an under-standing of the individual or community relationship to the Lord, an estimation of their spiritual maturity, and a reliable ifi~rease in their personal freedom and re- + sponsibility. + No concrete choice can be well ordered in the faith + unless it coincides with the determination~ of the Lord 'of all human history. To be aware of these things in the concrete is the only way for a man to be "with it" spir-itually, or "where the action is." To be with the Lord of history, who revealed Himself as being so continually and intimately with us, we must be in personal corn- munication with Him in all things. Therefore, the particular experience that functions as a self-evident first principle for the logic of concrete individual knowl-edge is nothing short of a real experience of the Lord communicating Himself and uttering His invitation and call directly to a pers9n for his u.nique situation, Growth in discernment presupposes several elements. There must be, first of all, inner experience; second,. repeated reflection, on this experience; third, a dis-crimination between various experiences, not from the pbint of view of mere natural causalities (psychological or otherwise), but from that of personal faith in the Lord of concrete history; fourth, an evaluation of these interior experiences from this faith-standpoint; finally, the ca-pacity to receive and obey those movements which are discernibly from the Lord, or.at least clearly not inspired by an adverse spirit. This is the only way to be with the Lord, and where His action is, in reality. Only thus can a man truly grow as a mature person and find. fulfillment. He must find his own personal relationship with the Creator and Lord of all things, and place himself at His service unre-servedly. Experience, then, of encounter and contact with .the Lord, of listening to and of being guided by Him di-rectly, must lie within the capacities of ordinary Chris-tian faith-maturity. Otherwise, how could an adult Chris-tian enjoy an authentic spiritual calling? The only way a man can be divinely called to a personal vocation is "bY name," which means by a unique and personal en-counter with tbe Lord in terms of incommunicable inner experience. Surely our adult Christians, in the light of Vatican II, are not merely destined to serve the Lord, but intimately to know the Lord they serve. Surely their service must flow from a personal.knowledge of Him, a concrete knowledge which cannot be grasped from the-ology or from psychology or even from the mere absence of "impediments to vocation," but from personal ex-perience and prayer. There is question here of something mystical, at least on an elementary level, in the ordinary faith-growth of a Christian--something entailing immediate conscious con-tact with the person of the Lord. Hence, we confront today a mysticism that is to be recognized and fostered within the ordinary providence of God's grace for anyone called to know Him. This kind of knowledge is what specifies the relationship between. God and His people, God and the individual, in the whole Judaeo-Christian history of vocation. I submit that today the discernmentof spirits, as it is called, is the most relevant focal, point in our spiritual ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 587 ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS heritage, because it is the concrete., logic of personal spiritual knowledge of las cosas internas, the "interior things," the life of inner spiritual experience. Only a refined spiritual discernment will guide a man to mature self-possession, freeing him from inner disorder in his choosing so that he may enjoy a growing, divine en-counter of faith in all circumstances. In this way, his faith-awareness will envelop, enlighten, guide everything else in his life, so that he will not be able to love any-thing ~r anyone save "in the Lord." It is only within this world of each man's personal experience that his faith-response can be given to the evocative word of the Lord. " Today.in this age of personalism, of self-discovery, of fulfillment, of communication and dialogue, there is a dyifig interest, in any gospel that might limit itself to spiriyual absolutes and generalities, to moralism or trite devotionalism, just as there is a reaction against the spiritual anonymity of the" "lonely crowd" and. the impersonality of the "organization man" in our "secular city.:' Such-labels indicate' the personal alienation that threatens urbanized man today. We all know the reac-tion formation which arises against this situation, offering a purely secular salvation in terms of this-worldly ful-fillment of man's four basic desires: his desire for security, affection, variety, and esteem. Man's real salvation today, however, according to our Christian world-view based on the 'new covenant announced in Jeremiah 31, 31 ft., entails being radicallygraced by God in such a way that the divine presence and will can be known and hcknowl- ' edged personally by each man. Confronted exclusively with general principles and laws, or the enunciation of general truths based upon them which do not focus on each man as a unique per-son but necessarily treat him merely as another instance of numerically multipliable human nature undistin-guished by any name, modern man will remain deaf to ¯ his true personal call to greatness, spiritually immature. If the Christian logic of concrete personal vocation is ignored today, there is a growing danger that tomorrow both Peter and Paul will search for their identity out, side the authentic Christian view of things., perhaps against it. It is only through the gradual and inevitably painful education of a man's faith-view of concrete particulars, that is, the education of his capacity spiritually to dis-cern concrete reality within himself or others, that he can be entrusted with the responsibility of personally determining the steps and measures which bear on his own salvation or that of others. ~ We are far from endorsing, therefore, an undiscerning confidence and blind acceptance of everything that a man spontaneously is inclined to think best. According to the view of some, everything is acceptable or good which inwardly attracts or moves a man, as long as it is not a clear inclination to sin. As a matter of fact, if it were all that easy it would hardly be worth discussing. Spiritual responsibility is insured only by an authentic growth of the capacity to discern the personal word and will of Christ for onself or for another. This merely re-affirms the central Christian position which is one of lis-tening to and following the word of God addressed to man: "Blessed is hewho hears the word of God and keeps it"; or again: "My mother and brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." To some degree or other all of us have this problem of faith-maturity. Therefore, we must consider maturity not as a terminal achievement but rather as maturation, a continuum of emerging awareness of interior en-counter and personal vocation initiated by the Lord. All this applies to community experience as well as to that of the individual, and it includes in its ambit the beginner as well as the teleios in the sense of Hebrews 5:14, "the one who has faculties trained by experience to discern good from evil." This points to faith-guided discernment as the cor-rection of Adam's fault who attempted, :according to Genesis 3, on his own and independently of the Lord's personal indication, to "eht of the fruit of the tree of. the knowledge of good and evil," that is, to discern for himself independently of God what was good and evil in the concrete. Hence any education in the discernment of right from wrong must emerge from the radical faith-position of one who is a listener to the Lord: "All that is not of faith is sin" (Rom 14:23). Structure and Individuation We are always confronted with the necessity of ad-mitting the young into formation structures in such a way as to allow for varying degrees of spiritual maturity already achieved and to foster further personal growth in the knowledge of God's will and love by discernment. Moreover, at the beginning of the process of formation there are two factors polarized, which, I feel, need to undergo considerable change in their basic relationship .by the end of that formative process. We can label those two factors "structure" and "in-dividuation." Structure, here, means a generally pre-dictable behavior pattern within which the individual and the group are directed to maturity in their en-counter with the Lord. For beginners there is need of a ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment. ,~.~ VOLUME 27~ 1968" 589 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 meaningful and reasonable overall structure in which the young candidates are .introduced to spiritual re-sponsibility. This structure will be more extensive and more detailed in virtue of the greater need for assistance and protection required in the period of initial growth. By individuation, in the context of formation, I mean everything that falls under the general heading of per-sonal admonition, directive, prescription, correction, or guidance. It is my general i~npression that we have not been afflicted so'much with overstructure in formation (we have had much structure but I think much is needed to ¯ .begin the process of faith-growth) as with a kind of rev-erence for this structure which tends to find maturity in terms of structural function and hence to preserve initial structures unchanged throughout religious life. ¯ I also believe we have been afflicted with an anxious protection and maintenance of this structure by over-stricture, so that the individual has been given to feel that the structure is an absolute value and that his least exterior failure or fault will be judged as maximal when, in fact, it might be objectively and spiritually minimal. A process of destructuring must occur. But, more im-portantly, we ought to begin formation with complete gentleness, patience, and the allowance for personal uniqueness, in the application of strictures within the required structure. With structure and individuation polarized in this way at the point of departure of formation, let me. degcribe the general evolution .which hopefully might occur with respect to the relationship between structure and individuation over the years, By its end a period of formation ought to reveal much less structure (because we' can presume that with discernment the spiritual adult has become more personally aware of his Lord and has achieved a more refined sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit) and much more stricture (because he has grown in spiritual sensitivity, in his capacity for self-direction, for discerning the Lord in all things by faith and love, and is consequently more accountable, that is, responsible, for these things). No community ought to aim at being completely un-structured or informal as long as men are mortal and original sin still, affects their motivation, decisions, and efforts. But I believe much failure in formation is due to the initial overemphasis of both stricture and struc-ture, producing a reaction against¯ both. We often end up with serious:difficulties not so much with the young as the old and religiously "formed," who, when it is safe to throw off structures, will no longer listen to stric-ture either. This, of course, reveals that their formation left them spiritually immature. How difficult it is at times to tell a man who has been~ twenty-five years in religious life what to do or not to do. It is not easy, if he is obstinate. It is not easy if he feels: "Now that I have gone through that formation bit, you don't push me around." I think a lot of our scandal emerges precisely when the process of destructuring takes place reveali.ng little faith-education or spiritual maturity to fill up the vac-uum created by ~his process. It shows that no growth in spiritual responsibility has.supplanted the firmness of protective structures. By the end of our periods of formation, when the col-lective factors have been diminished on the level of structure, there ought to emerge a deeper spiritual rela-tionship with the superior, confessor, personal director, on the individual level, that is, on the level of concrete prescription, spiritual direction, and discernment. I feel that little faults in mature persons are much more serf-otis than little faults in beginners. Perhaps we ought to increase the importance of private direction for the ma-ture, not only in the sense of reprehension and correction of faults, but also of more tailored discernment of the will of the Lord. Existentially, this continuum of for-mation ought to be a movement, from external law to the interior law of love. , St. Paul had insight int~ such freedom. He claims that we are freed by learning to love like Christ. He does not mean by freedom that we are no longer bound by ex-ternal law, but rather that we are no longer driven, cap-tured, or urged by anything except by divine love: "Caritas Christi urget nos." To the degree that mature Christian love existentially directs a man's choices, his need for external law and direction is lessened. Only.by the "strength of the Lord's personal initiati~ces of love in his regar~l wi!l he be stimulated to respond to the Lord's word calling him to share responsibility for his own salvation and that of others. This call in its fullness is identical with the vocation to enter the paschal mystery of the Lord's suffering service, death, and resurrection. Hence, we can say with Vatican II that it is "only by faith and by meditation on the word of God" that we can find God's will in anything, discover Christ in our fellow man, or evaluate temporal things in their true light, that is, in the light of salvation history into which all things have happily been assumed by the risen Lord. There is no possibility of mature faith-growth unless, between the beginning and the end of its spectrum, there is inserted personal, incommunicable experience of en-trance into the mystery of Christ's dying and rising. The problem today is a growing tendency to skip the + + + Maturity and Discernment" VOLUME 27, '1968 591 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 passion and death in an attempt to establish the Resur-rection. We need more than ever a spiritual awareness of the contemporary dimensions of the passion and death, such as you find in St. Paul who identifies the mystery of Christ's nekrosis with his own experiences of suffering, persecution, and rejection in the apostolate and. ministry . of the word. The word "mystery" in this context means a human experience of the Word made flesh such as we imply when we speak of the "mysteries" of the rosary Or when we contemplate the "mysteries of the public life of Jesus." The definitive mystery of the Word made ttesh is His redemptive experience of dying and rising, which is the matrix of all Christian formation and maturity. Growth and formation involve the development of a conscious love relationship with the Lord. Lovers are those who share intimately each other's experiences of joy and suffering and know by experience the depth and the breadth and the mystery of the unique other. The Lord has this kind of knowledge of us--a knowledge which can become the friendship of .mutual love only if we dwell also in this kind of knowledge of Him. Therefore, our entrance into His mystery of passion and death implies, in the first place, a growth in our aware-ness of His complete entrance into our mystery, His complete appropriation of our personhood and life ex-perience. Neither this awareness nor the experience of entry into His mystery are vague abstractions. His definitive entrance into our present life was by a very real dying and rising. It is this experience of His that has become the key to our faith-awareness of Him. Thus, His suffer-ing, dying, rising, unfold anew in our life experience because of our intimate, mutual involvement with Him, revealed by faith. Conclusion The real spiritual theology of action, of renewal, and of labor (including the labors of the apostolate and min, istry of the word), centers on this contemporary sharing in Christ's redemptive death and resurrection. You will find this everywhere in St. Paul, for instance in I Corin-thians 1:3 ft. and 4:7 ff: "The sufferings of Christ abound in us, the consolation in you"; or again: "We are con-tinually carrying about in our bodies the dying state of Jesus so that the living state of Jesus may be manifest in our bodies too." So, too, Paul speaks of the personal mandate through Christian baptism of entering into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection, which implies finding the dimensions of His mystery as it is realized concretely in one's own. This Will involve a personal sharing of the emptying-out or kenosis of Christ, an experience of hu-man b~irrenness, agony, and dereliction out of which alone can emerge the marvelous truthfulness of the Lord rising in our personal world, today. I do not think this is going to be appreciated if it is merely described, as I do here. It is something that must be learned from experience under the guidance of that kind of spiritual discernment that calls a thing by its right name, as it is occurring in a man's experience. No natural terms or categories are sufficient, to capture the meaning of this experience of.entry into the mystery of Christ that is ours. Hence, the language of faith is the principal language to be used in spiritual direction and discernment. Nobody can accomplish for me this work of collabora-tion with Christ to which I am personally called. With-out personal inner encounter I have knowledge only of a kind of "unknown God," which really is no knowl-edge at all; and the danger of not knowing God is of be-coming adokimos, someone of an undiscerning mind, who knows created reality by experience without dis-cerning the Lord and Creator. This was the failure of the pagans according to Romans 1:18 ft., where Paul degcribes their decline through various stages of degrada-tion because they were unable to discern the will and love of the Lord of all creation. The human conversation with God was broken off in the garden of Eden, not because God stopped speaking to man but because man stopped listening to God. All sacred history recounts the restoration not only in the individual but in the city of man of the ability to listen to the word olz God articulated in the contemporary events and realities of each successive age, as in a con-tinuing kaleidoscope of the Lord's presence articulated in the eternal '~today" of man's relationship to his Lord. The builders of the tower of Babel were dispersed by God because they attempted to build the city on their own, without His initiative, His word. Abraham, in the next chapter, is the one in whom the listening to God's word historically begins to be restored. Eventually, the city image of Babel in Chapter 11 of Genesis, the city which is almost a bad word in theearly parts of Scrip-ture, becomes the very end-time symbol of the awareness of God's intimate presence and conversation in Apoc-alypse 21, where the new city created by God, the new Jerusalem, needs neither temple nor source of light other than God Himself and his Son the Lamb. Eventually, the Lord who is Father and the Lamb will themselves be both temple-of worship and source of light for the city of man. This symbol marks the terminal point of + + + Maturity and Discernment VOLUME "27, 1968 593 + ÷ ÷ D. T.'Asselin, REVIE~FOR RELIGIOUS community salvation. If you read Apocalypse 21, you will find that the individual relationship to the Lord emerges as perfect along with the destructured com-munity relationship to the Lord: "He who overcomes shall possess these things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son" (Ap 21:7). There is no opposition, then, between the community-growth and individual fulfillment. We reach full person-hood in the community of the Lord's people by sharing an awareness of God's personal presence and glory. We celebrate this in our daily Eucharist. We announce these Christian facts of life and we promote them, there. We increase and grow in our realization of them by listening privately and together to the word of God, and together and in private responding wholeheartedly. In conclusion I should like to indicate a fundamental criterion by which the authenticity of faith-growth and spiritual discernment must. always be measured. The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who lis-tens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can discern the word and will of the Lord mani-fested to ,him, he must respond with all the Pauline "obedience of faith." Obedience always implies an attitude of listening, signified by the Latin ob-audire and Greek hupo-akouo. It is the attitude of receptivity, passivity, and poverty of one who is always in need, radically dependent, con-scious of his creaturehood. Freedom, faith-growth, and spiritual maturity must always begin with fundamental obedience to the Lord's laws, directives, and providence for the individual and the community. The evolution of faith to spiritual adulthood is measured not by neglecting or escaping these basic divine dispositions so as to be no longer bound by them, but rather by transcending external laws and prescriptions so as to be bonnd more deeply and intimately by the greater demands of an internal law uttered in the heart. One is always bound by general law and principle and by external authority legitimately exercised, but one can transcend this dimension as the motive of response to the Lord to the degree that one can discern and obey the internal law of love imprinted in the heart by the Spirit, establishing the new covenant announced by Jeremiah 31:31 ft. Bound by external law and authority, our faith-growth consists in being moved by the internal: "Caritas Christi urget nosl" No internal discernment of the Lord's will and vocation is valid if it disobeys or degtroys the Lord's external dispositions exercised by legitimate auo thority and institution. There is only one Spirit breath-ing on many levels where and how He wills. The authentic maturity of faith by spiritual discern-anent will manifest itself in a fourfold reconciliation of man, matching the fourfold human conflict introduced by man's primitive disobedience: a reconciliation (1) with the Lord in a Spirit of prayerful sonship crying "Abba," (2) within oneself by the peace that replaces the shame of guilt, (3) with one's neighbor by the love that replaces anger and fear, (4) and with ktisis or physical creation by a resurrection. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 ". . 595 BERNARD LEE, S~M. The Spring Wants to Come: A Study in Community ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard Lee, S.M., is on the fac-ulty of St. Mary's High School; 4701 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 6311 I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 Introduction I had originally intended to cast these introductory remarks into footnotes in very brief form. But a discus-sion and very helpful critique with members of my communi.ty suggested the importance of beginning with two observations that appear necessary for keeping the discussion in the" right context. The first point is this: what the article is not is a comparison between art and community life in which certain aesthetic principles are analogically applied to community. Beauty is a transcendental, and it is a real characteristic-of all that is. There are degrees of beauty and kinds of beauty. It can be recognized and experi-enced. Like many of the practical items we use and need, community is a practical response to a need: psychologi-cal needs stemming from our social nature, pragmatic needs for coping with the world around us. But over and above this, both the practical items and the practical community are capable of being works of art, pieces of beauty, as well. The application of asesthetic principles to community life is, therefore, a direct application of principles that are, in the philosophical sense, proper to it. This second introductory remark might seem a bit academic for the discussion that follows. But it has to do with basic presuppositions that govern the thought of the article. The characterization of beauty that I use is based very much upon the thgught of Alfred North Whitehead, the whole of his thought, but in particular his treatment of beauty in Adventure of Ideas. What is presumed is a world of reality whose nature is to be in process. Process is at the heart of the way things are. Process is reality. And an important qualifidation of this process is that it is evolutionary; it is directed to the creation of higher: forms and modes of existence. In Aristotelian thought the possibility of changing neces-sarily implies imperfection: "All change is by its nature an undoing" (Physics, IV, 222b). But in process philos-ophy, change is actually constitutive of reality. Becoming is no longer inferior to being. This obviously affects a philosophy of beauty--and therefore a philosophy of community--because process will be constitutive of beauty as well as of being. This is not the place to attempt a further characteri-zation of process philosophy. May I instead retommend the brief but superb introduction Charles Hartshorne wrote for Browning's Philosophers of Process, and the excellent second part of Eulalio Baltazar's Teilhard and the Supernatural which treats in more detail "The Phi-losophy of Process." The implications of all ttiis for theology and spirituality are immense--so immense that it almost seems ludicrous to toss off the observation so casually. I would like to conclude these introductory re-marks with some lines from Rilke: What keeps you from projecting His birth into times That are in the process of becoming, And living your life Like a painful and beautiful day In the history of a great gestation? For do you not see How everything that happens Keeps on being a beginning Since beginning is in itself Always so beautiful?. These very days Of your transition Are perhaps the time When everything in you Is working at him. And think that the least We can do is to make His becoming Not more difficult for Him Than theearth ¯ Makes its for the Spring When it wants to come. --Rainer Maria Rilke Community The history of humanity is the history of an evolution towards a more finely wrought community. The evolu-tion is not unmarked by failures, neither in the past nor now. But progress has been steady. And higher com-munity has normally been achieved when the demands 4, 4, ÷ Community VOLUME 27, 597 ÷ ÷ Bernar~ I=~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 of new social conditions have been responded to crea-tively. Today is a day of new demands, and we are on the verge of higher community if we can bring to those demands an adequately creative response. The movement towards the perfection of community has always been a part of human history, but a new inner urgency is communicated to the movement in Christ who calls men to brotherhood in God's love: "This solidarity must be constantly increased until that day on which it will be brought to perfection. Then, saved by grace, men will offer flawless glory to God as a family beloved of God and of Christ their brother" (gaudium et spes, § 32). In this discussion we would like to deal with the dynamics of building community. And here dynamics must bear the full weight of its meaning; for the evolutionary nature of community among men neces-sarily implies movement and change, trial and error, mutual tensions and continual interactions. The para-dox is that these factors are not manifestations of rest-lessness and caprice, but are the only basis for in-tensified solidarity. There are many valid points of departure for a dis-cussion of community. Our point of departure Will be aesthetic. It is peculiar to man, of all earth's creatures, to recognize beauty, to be moved and exhilarated by it. Because the quest for beauty and the response to it are both deeply human and deeply humanizing, we ought to be conscious of the beauty of community life that we work towards. We must even make that beauty a conscious aim--for it goes way beyond simply making community through the common task of meeting practi-cal exigencies; it calls us to create community. Throughout this discussion we will be thinking es-pecially of "community" in religious life. But the prin-ciples should be valid and operative within any social structure. The plan of this discussion is as follows. We will first talk about beauty and the degrees of harmony that mark it (and also that mark community life). Then we will try to show how greater intensity is possible in beauty (and how this is related to the perfection of community life). Then, from the psychological point of view of man's enjoyment of beauty, we will discuss the "move-ment" that is demanded by human appreciation of beauty (and the "movement" that is demanded for a constant human satisfaction with community life). I can recall having been asked for a reaction to some piece of architecture or other, and having replied that while I didn't really think it was great, it was at least pleasing and didn't jar. That something "isn't jarring" is an acknowledgement of at least a minor form of beauty, an absence of elements that would disturb the harmony. There are many elements in an art work (color in painting, rhythm, tone, and harmony in music) that might be independently quite pleasing, but which to-gether in certain combinations inhibit beauty. It is pos-sible to juxtapose two brilliant colors so that when they are together the b,rillance of neither comes through fully, though alone each would be striking. In this case there is a mutual inhibition that keeps either color from rising to the strength proper to it. It is likewise possible in music to counter two rhythms ~o each other in suchwise that neither is discernible; of course, a counterplay of two rhythms might well put each of the rhythms in bolder relief and make them easier to ap-preciate. In the first case, the mutual incompatibility of two rhythms is not only inhibitive of beauty, the two elements are actually destructive of each other. A minor form of beauty, oi: pleasingness, then, consists in the absence of elements that are either destructive of one another, or that keep each other from rising to the strength proper to each. This same aesthetique applies to community. When the fact of community is the result of the juxtaposition. of certain individuals within the same house, and not much more than that, the minor form of beauty just described.is probably the limit of communitarianbeauty available. There is a certain smoothness and harmony that results from not having personalities that are to-tally incompatible, and from having personalities that are enough alike (or have been made so by the repres-sion of differences) that they do not inhibit each other member from "being himself." The walls of a living room may be painted a 'very pleasing color and may provide quite a satis[actory experience. But if the walls are done in several colors, and if furnishings are chosen which blend and con-trast, much attention has to be given to composition. Two colors which cannot be tolerated next to each other might, in composition with a third and fourth color, give a heightened aesthetic experience not possible with the minor beauty of the one-color room. For this height-ened aesthetic experience derived from a contrast of contents, composition becomes increasingly important. For each element must stand in relation to every other element as well as to the whole. This is the only con-dition under which different elements can, by virtue of their very differences, not simply coexist juxtaposed, but become a truly powerful experience together. And there is a corollary to this. Not only does the individual element help heighten the aesthetic value of the compo- + + ÷ Community VOLUME 27, ~.968 ,599 + 4. 4. Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sition as a whole, but the whole itself ~s a setting for the individual element enhances the individual element. The whole uses and profits from that which is most unique in the individual element. It is what is different about this individual element that heightens the effect" of good composition. But that difference only becomes valuable and desirable in this setting of effective con-trast. Alone it is. well, just different. Again, ~his aesthefique applies to community living. A more intense community experience is possible through effective contrasts of personalities. This can only be a reality if ther6 is a community consciousness directed toward the creation of such a "composition." A minor form of beauty attained simply through the absence of jarring elements does not put upon "relationship" the premium it has in the heightened aesthetic experience towards which we work. "Relationship" is the basis of composition, and it requires conscious and deliberate effort to bring it off. By conscious effort we cannot mean a belabored preoccupation with improving or building interpersonal bonds--that is almost doomed to failure by the artificiality that would destroy what can only be fully natural, or else not be at all. But it does mean being quite conscious of the fact that differ-ences between us are the seed of greater community beauty. It does mean consciously and openly and hon-estly dealing with differences rather than shu~ing them under the carpet in favor of a minor and easier harmony. It is from the very desirable (and often painful) per-sonal confrontations in view of differences that such consciousness occasions interpersonal relationships really happening, and "composition" really occurring. And be-cause we are human beings, something happens in the composition of good community that does not happen in the'composition of good art: we individual elements have to stretch ourselves intellectually, socially, emo-tionally, psychologically, to contain the contrasts of our community. But what grow.th! And growing pains too. Only a community like this can address itself to the yearning of the contemporary man who wants to be where the personal identity he has worked so hard foI is 'appreciated and desired. He wants to be part of a community that challenges him to become and, in be-coming, to be his unique self. Only an aesthetique of striving for great communitarian beauty can provide for a whole that frames rather than swallows individuality. A beautiful nature scene which is exciting on a 16mm screen might well be overwhelming on the Cinerama screen. This introduces a new consideration into our discussion of beauty. There is something about the hu-man spirit, perhaps allied to the appetite for tran- scendence, that makes it reach out for what is grand. "A man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?" Traditionally, being big-souled is being virtuous: magnanimity. In our aesthetic satisfaction there is a certain proper kind of intensity just in comparative magnitude. Nor is this to devalue the beauty of small delicate things--there are beautiful things that would suffer violence in enlargement. Yet it does remain true that sheer magnitude awakens the human spirit and issues a call to it to be likewise grand. This is as true of the aesthetic exlSerience as of other realms of our. ex-perience. Let us again apply our aesthetique to community life. Perhaps we should begin with the acknowledgement that there is a kind of intensity in the relationship between two friends that cannot be enlarged to a whole com-munity- this would be a naive aim. Yet on the other hand, there is a magnificence in the spirited unity of a large community that is an inspiration to behold, and that is an even greater inspiration to be part of. There is a strength and a power in such a unity. Of course, in speakirig of comparative magnitude as adding strength to beauty, we mean not sheer size alone, but one that is marked by the aesthetic qualities we dis-cussed already. The final point in our discussion of the qualities of aesthetic perfection has to do with variety of detail. Variety of detail can be worked at in many ways. The baroque and rococo are not our ways. But variety is im-portant even in an age that wants its architecture to have a naked beauty often drawn from nothing more or less than the unadorned structural elements. Variety of detail, then, is not extravagance. It is variation and contrast that, from a negative point of v.iew, prevents monotony and boredom; and, from a positive point of view, adds interest and excitement. This aesthetic qual-ity is somewhat akin to the previous one we spoke of. There is a grandeur in variety of detail. Mere variety is not the point; the variety must be well composed so that the contrast is effective. But all else being equal, variety of detail does add an aesthetic perfection. And, of course, variety exacts a keener attention to insure such an ef-fective composition. It doesn't just happen. Effective unity does not just happen in a community marked by a great variety of temperaments and per-sonalities. It can only be brought about by careful and patient care. Again, that must be conscious effort. It cannot happen unless a community has decided that it wills to work for a greater degree of communitarian beauty and then has begun the communitarian creativity which alone can bring it off. + ÷ ÷ Community ¯ VOLUME 27, 1968 601 Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 At this point something should be said about discord and disharmony, about their positive worth and de-sirability, or rather, about the circumstances in which they are desirable. Effective contrast of different elements makes possible a higher form of beauty. It is discord which makes known the fact that different elements are present which have not been unified in effective contrast. It is dis-cord, then, that points a finger to the spot where at-tention is needed, where effective relating is needed, to incorporate these different elements into a community which will be richer for having taken them unto its own. Even if the minor forms of communitarian beauty have been attained quite well, it is probably humanly im-possible to move to a higher form based on effective contrast without experiencing discord. The discord must be expected. It must be welcomed as the herald of something better to come if it can be dealt with openly and sincerely. And it must not linger to haunt the new unity when it is born. In music the transition from a single tone into a harmony might well--and often does--pass through an intermedi~i(e disharmony. That disharmony often serves to heighten the experience of a ricli harmony which it (even in its split second existence) teased us into yearn-ing for. The application to many of the disharmonies of community life is obvious enough to need no com-mentary. Thus far we have discussed, from a somewhat philo-sophical point of view, the qualities of what is beauti-ful, the qualities which occasion the aesthetic experience for the human spirit. We would like to turn now to the human spirit~ and from that point of view discuss one further factor of prime i.importance in'our experience of beauty. So let us speak of the human spirit. There is a certain restlessness that makes it tire'of repetition. Even if it ha~ accommodated itself to the ease of repetition, it is un-likely that much of the deeper yearning of the human spirit can thus be satisfied. It can at best be anaesthe-tized. Clumsily but accurately rendered, the word "an-aesthetized" means unbeautied, deadened to the aes-thetic. Even beauty can anaesthetize when it is endlessly repeated in the same form. "Perfection will not bear the tedium of indefinite repetition" (Whitehead). To sus-tain the ardor of aesthetic enjoyment requires a con-stant' search for new perfection. Sometimes the new perfection need not even be a higher one, only an equal perfection. The new experience keeps the spirit aes-thetically intent, alive, and active. Change for the sake of change is capricious. But change, even when the practical situation does not de-mand it, even when the new thing is not an improve-ment, may still be quite desirable if it can sustain the intensity of our aesthetic experience of communitarian beauty. We must emphasize again that conscious recog-nition of striving for communitarian beauty as it has been described is a necessary context for welcoming change and movement and variation. Outside of this context, the change that is not pragmatically necessary is indeed obnoxious. If a com.munity has opted to strive for higher forms o[ beauty in its life together, the element of change needs attention; but to some extent it will take care of itself. The texture of a community changes with every personnel change. The addition or subtraction 6f even one member is bound to affect the quality of a com-munity that has determined its "composition" in view of each unique individual member, ff one member o~ a community has grown and been enriched through per-sonal, experience, the community grows too and accom-modates itself to the new experience within it. In this way each community should have a personality of its own, a beauty of its own that is particular to this com-munity because it is composed of these unique, indi-vidual persons. To the extent that communities have not achieved a beauty characteristic of each, one com-munity will look quite the same as any other. And per-haps we should be reminded here by Bishop Robinson that God is as much in the rapids as in the rocks. Nor is all of this discussion without import for that celebration of community which is the Eucharist. We h~ve probably all reflected how daily repetition of Mass ~can weaken the quality of our experience of it. I think we salve the situation too unctuously by countering that the eye of faith sees behind any possible tedium in the daily repetition. Mass is not simply the presence of God through the signs of bread and wine; the full symbol is the community that is gathered there to further in-tensify its unity in the breaking of one bread and the sharing of a Common cup. Because each community is-- or should be--unique, it must vitalize its celebration of the Eucharist by finding ways of expressing its unique-ness (and thus its beauty) in Mass, for this is how the community offers to God what is most beautiful to Him. The dynamic interaction of individuals in community is constantly modifying the texture of community, be it ever so little. There is, then, the challenge always to find new ways of offering God the new beauties that come to be in our midst, the new Beauties that ARE our Midst. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~,ommunity VOLUME 27, 1968 603 JOHN COWBURN, S.J. The Analogy of Religious Authority and Obedience ÷ ÷ ÷ John Cowburn, s.J., is a faculty member at Loyola College; Watsonia, Victoria S087; Aus-tralia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In discussions of authority it is sometimes assumed, I think, that the authority of a father over his children is the first experienced and universally understood form of authority, and that all other forms of authority are ultimately analogous to it. On the basis of these as-sumptions, then, other forms of authority are explained by comparing them with this primordial form: God's authority over us is explained as being that of a father; the pope is called the Holy Father, bishops are told to be like fathers to their priests and people, pastors like fathers to their parishioners, and religious superiors like fathers and mothers to their subjects; and secular rulers, too, are thought to be like fathers to their subjects. On the other hand, it has been maintained that every form of authority is completely sui generis, so that argu-ments a pari from one form to another are never valid; or that, whatever may be said about secular forms of authority, at any rate the kinds of authority found in the Church are not analogous to natural forms, so that it is not really enlightening to compare them with these. Since, however, theology continually presupposes that analogy is possible and that one can argue by means of it, and since the. gospel has always been preached with the aid of analogies, it is surely reasonable to suppose that analogy can be used in discussions of authority. And if this is agreed on, perhap~ it can also be agreed that the family is the fundamental human society, that all forms of authority are ultimately analogous to forms of au-, thority found in the family, and that reflection on au-thority and obedience as they are exercised there can be helpful for an understanding of the nature of religious authority (not to mention other forms) and of the way in which it ought to be exercised. What I wish to question, however, is that this means that all authority, including that of the religious superior, is analogous to that of a father over his children--but I anticipate. Authority in the Family A family, surely, should not be seen simply as a group of people one of whom has authority over all the others. Rather, it should' be seen as constituted by two different relationships, or kinds of relationship: there is the re-lationship which binds the husband and wife to each other, and there are the relationships which bind the parents to the children and the children to the parents. Both these relationships involve authority on one side, and the.~recognition of that authority, or obedience, on the other: a husband is the head of the couple formed by his wife and himself, and she promises to love, honor and obey him; and of course parents have authority over their children, who owe them obedience. However, I suggest that we find here two distinct kinds of au-thority and obedience, and that reflection quickly shows that there are radical differences between them.1 Firstly, children do not choose to enter a family and they do not choose their parents, but a woman chooses. to marry and to become the wife of this man rather than of any other. The authority of parents over their chil-dren, then, is not given to them by the children, whereas a husband obtains authority over his wife when she freely gives it to him. The facts, that a woman cannot marry a man without giving him authority over her and that the authority once given may not arbitrarily be taken back do not affect the contention that one of the relationships is constituted by the free consent of both parties and the other is not. Secondly, one relationship is essentially between two adults, whereas the other is essentially between adults and children. If this were not obvious already, it could be shown by stating that a woman cannot marry until she is capable of making freely an important decision that will affect her whole life, that is, until she is no longer a child. Thirdly, in a normal family the parents are superior to their children in knowledge, understanding, wisdom, ¯ common sense, fortitude, and almost every other respect, and the lack of these qualities in children is the reason why they are subject to their parents in the way they are. In a normal family, however, the husband and wife are much more nearly equal in human qualities than par-x I have made this contention in The Person and Love (New York: Alba House, 1968), p. 157. (The English edition, published in London by Geoffrey Chapman, is called Love and the Person.) + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 605 ÷ ÷ 1ohn Cowburn, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g ents and children are; indeed, if there is very great in-equality a true marriage is virtually impossible. And if in a normal family the husband is usually somewhat older than his wife and in some respects superior to her, this is not the reason why he has authority over her, as is shown by the wives who are actually superior to their husbands in intelligence and other human qualities and who nevertheless give them obedience. That is, if one asks in general why children are always under someone's dominion the answer is that they are incapable of being left in charge of themselves. If, however, one asks why most women are under the dominion of husbands, the answer is not that. It is, one supposes, that for the unity of a couple it is necessary that one partner be the leader and that the other--who, if she were living alone, would be quite capable of looking after herself--accept his leadership. Fourthly, the authority of parents over their children is transient, whereas that of husband over wife is perma-nent. The authority of parents over their children is greatest when the children are small; as they grow up it lessens; eventually, it ceases--for although adults respect their parents they do not strictly speaking owe them obedience. In contrast to this, the authority of husband over wife is constant and permanent. Fifthly, it would be abnormal for a grown person to obey his parents just as he did when he was a child; and to train anyone to obey in this way all his life would be to prevent him from achieving maturity. But it is per-fectly normal for a mature woman to recognize her husband's authority--indeed, to be unwilling to accept or acknowledge this kind of authority would, generally speaking, be a sign of immaturity--and a married woman achieves maturity and fulfillment partly by schooling herself to give recognition and willing obedi-ence to her husband. Sixthly, in both cases the exercise of authority and the obedience are expressions of love: a man gives himself to his wife partly by assuming responsibili.ty for her welfare, with the authority that that responsibility car-ries with it, and she gives herself to him in accepting him as head; and parents express their love for their children by not letting them run wild but authoritatively con-trolling their development, while children show their loving acceptance of their parents by obeying them. However, conjugal love and parental-filial love are surely different in kind; and so the authority and obedi-ence in which they are expressed are also different in kind. We come, th(n, to this conclusion: in a family there are two radically.different kinds of authority and obedio ence. In previous ages, I suppose, people would have disagreed with this by maintaining that the authority of husband over wife is not essentially different from that of father over children. When fathers retained their authority over their daughters .not until these were twenty-one but until they were married; and when fathers chose husbands for their daughters and then led the girls to the altar where they handed them over to the bridegrooms; then it seemed to everyone that it was from her father that a man obtained his authority over his wife, and so it was supposed that his authority was essentially of the same kind as that which the father had had, and men supposed that their wives and children were all subject to their authority in much the same way. Today, however, disagreement with my thesis is likely to take a very different form, for it is now being said that husbands do not have real authority over their wives, and that wives do not strictly speaking owe obedi-ence to their husbands. It is, says Julian Gosling, very unnatural and misleading to describe in terms of "au-thority" and "obedience" the relationship between hus-gand and wife, given that the wife has the right and duty to enter fully with her husband into discussion of any decisions that are to be made.~ But discussion is in-compatible with authority and obedience only if these are understood in a very restricted way; and since even today a husband is in some. sense the head or leader of the couple, it seems reasonable to continue to talk Of con-jugal authority and obedience--provided that these are sharply distinguished from parental authority and filial obedience. Religious Obedience Let us now put the question: to which of these two kinds of authority is that of the religious superior analo-gous? Well, firstly, a person is a Christian by virtue of his own free option, and he is a religious by virtue of a choice which in a sense is even more free, since there is" no obligation to make it. If these facts were once ob-scured, when people thought they were Catholics be-cause they were born citizens of Catholic countries br members of Catholic families, while some people~ were religious because their parents had given them into religion at an early age, they are now very clear. Secondly, the relationship between religious superior and subject i~ essentially between two adults, since a person taking religious vows is presumed to be mature "Rhetoric and Marriage," Month, January, 1967, p. 29. + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 607 enough to do so. Moreover, many reli, gious superiors are younger than some of their subjects. Thirdly, the precise reason why in religious orders. there are superiors and subjects is not that the superiors have knowledge and virtue,' while the subjects are stupid and irresponsible. It may well be that on the average those who are superiors are more gifted than those who are subjects, but if all were equally intelligent and prudent it would still be necessary for religious com-munities to have superiors. Fourthly, the state of religious obedience is not tran-sient, extending only over a period of growth, but life-long. 'Fifthly, if the authority of a religious superior were thought of as being analogous to that of a father over his children, then it would be implied that either the subjects ought to live all their lives in a situation which. is abnormal for mature persons, or else that once they have finished their training they can reasonably consider that they have outgrown obedience, strictly so called, and claim a very large measure of independence. If, however, it is thought of as being analogous to conjugal authority, then obedience presents itself as quite con-sonant with personal maturity; indeed, it becomes rea-sonably easy to see how a religious can achieve personal fulfillment and maturity partly by schooling himself to give recognition and willing obedience to a superior. The conclusion seems inescapable: religious authority and obedience are analogous to conjugal authority and obedience rather than to parental authority and filial obedience,a But is this theologically sound? Firstly, it is traditional doctrine that a religious ought to see Christ in his su-perior. But Christ, surely, was Master to the Apostles and He is our Lord, Master, friend, brother or spouse; but He was not their father and He is not ours. It seems, then, entirely in accord with this traditional doctrine to say that a religious superior is lord or master of his subjects in the way that a husband is the head of a couple, and not in the way that a father is in authority over his children.4 However, secondly, it is also tradi-÷ ÷ ÷ .lohn Cowburn, $o~o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 s Karl Rahner says that religious obedience is not analogous to that of children because this is (1) based on lack of knowledge and responsi-bility in the child as compared with the parents; (2) temporary, having as its aim its own eventual disappearance; (3) given by nature, not chosen by personal election ("A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflec-tions on Obedience," Woodstock Letters, v. 86 [1957], pp. 293--4). This is exactly what I maintain, but Rahner does not develop an alterna-tive analogy. ~ Dora Olivier Rousseau writes that St. Benedict "would have the subject see Christ himself in his Abbot with whom he lives con-stantly: Christi enim agere vices in monasterio creditur [abbas]" tional to compare a religious superior to a father or mother. Could it be that this was simply because it was assumed that paternal authority is the basic form of authority to which all other authority---including con-jugal authority--is analogous; and if this assumption is modified, so may the traditional comparison be cor-rected? Some authors begin by affirming that all authority is analogous to that of a father over his children, but they then go on to point out how vastly different is the authority of a religious superior from that of a parent and end by virtually denying their original affirmation.5 It seems more consistent to suppose that all authority is analogous either to that of a father over his children or to that of a husband over his wife; one can then deny that there is any analogy between a religious superior and a parent without coming into conflict with one's own supposition. Qualifications Firstly, let it be clearly stated that, as with every analogy, there are differences between the terms under comparison. The husband-wife relationship is sexual, which the superior-subject one is not. A husband has only one wife, whereas a religious superior may have many subjects. In most religious orders, superiors are regularly changed, as husbands are not. And so on. Secondly, to say that religious authority is analogous to that of a husband is not to say all that can be said about it. That is, this article makes a point about re-ligious authority but does not attempt to give a com-plete account of it. Thirdly, in all I have been saying I have been con-sidering the normal case, which is that of a superior and a formed religious, rather than that of a superior and a religious who is still in training. In his early years a religious is perhaps something of a child in his order, learning the elements of religious life, and the au-thority of superiors over him has something of a pa- (Introduction to Obedience [London: Blackfriars, 1953], p. 15). "The abbot," Dora Olivier then goes on to say as if it followed naturally, "ought to be the father of his community." But this, surely, is pre-cisely what does not follow from St. Benedict's principle. ~ For instance, Desmond F. McGoldrick ~ays that the prototype of "dominative power" is that of parents in the home; but he then--and this is what seems to me to be somewhat inconsistent--plays down and even denies any analogy between a parent and a religious superior (Fostering Development [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], pp. 77-8); and he says: "The attitude which an enlightened Superior should not use towards the other members of the Community is that of the parent-child relationship. She is not a parent; her subjects are not children" (ibid., p. 151). + + + Authority. and Obedience VOLUME 27, lO68 609 ÷ ÷ John Cowbu~n, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6111 rental character; but, firstly, this is plainly not the case to have in mind when working out a theory of religious authority and obedience, hnd, secondly, the authority of stiperiors over subjects in their years of formation ought even then to be mainly "conjugal" and it ought grad-ually to lose its partly parental character as the subject develops. Practical Implications The thesis maintained above has certain practical implications. Firstly, there is frequently a certain "distance" between parents and children, and some fathers even deliberately maintain a degree of aloofness from their children. Also, some political and military leaders, understanding their authority to be quasi-paternal, have quite deliberately kept aloof from their subjects, and they have incited their subjects to think of them as mysterious, superior beings, to be almost worshipped from afar below, and to be obeyed without question in all things. But since no husband should be aloof from his wife, no religious su-perior should be distant from his subjects or use mys-terious aloofness as a device for obtaining unquestioning obedience. Secondly, parents usually call their children by their Christian names or family nicknames, whereas children call their parents by some respectful form of address such as "Father," "Mother," or abridgements of these; but husbands and wives use reciprocal forms of address towards each other. Also, children are frequently taught to adopt a respectful posture when addressing their parents or other adults, at least when asking for some-thing or "being spoken to"; but wives do not as it were stand to attention when a.ddressing their husbands or being addressed by them. It would, then, seem to be nor-mal for a religious to address his superior in much the same way as he would address the same man if he were not the superior--which in many cases means his Chris-tain name, his name in the order, o~ his nickname if he has one. Thirdly, it frequently happens that parents~if one may put it this way--live more expensively than their children do. They do not, for instance, give to their children as much money to spend .on an outing as they themselves would spend; and if from time to time they entertain friends at restaurants they do not make it pos-sible for their children to'entertain thdir friends at those same restaurants. Similarly, in many armies the officers have a higher standard of living than the men. But husbands and wives share and share alike. Of course, it may sometimes happen that a man has an expensive business lunch while his wife, in town for the day, is having a cheap lunch at a department-store cafeteria; but in general they have the same standard of living. Just so, in a religious community superiors and subjects share and share alike, and superiors do not, because they are superiors, have a higher standard of room furni-ture, dress, means of transport, and so on. Fourthly, parents do not ordinarily bring their chil-dren fully into their consultations, but find it su~cient to give them some sort of explanation of whatever de-cisions have been made which affect them, after they have been made. Children for their part exercise filial obedience by trusting their parents and accepting their decisions without argument. Between husbands and wives, however, full consultation is the rule. It may oc-casionally happen that a man must make some decision without consulting his wife, because he is not given enough time to get in touch with her, because the de-cision involves some information which he is obliged to keep secret even from her, or for some other reason; but such an action must be seen as exceptional and in need of a good reason to justify it. In normal circumstances it would be positively wrong for a husband to take an important decision without genuine consultation with his wife--and this means listening to her really seri-ously- for she has a right to be consulted; and for that matter it would be wrong for her to refuse to enter .into consultation, for he has a right to her participation in the decision-making and the responsibility that it en-tails. Usually the final result is a decision which they feel comes from both of them-~either a wife or a hus-band will often say "We have decided" to do this or that--and yet from first to last it is understood between them that the husband is the head, and that the final word rests with him. He feels this and accepts the re-sponsibility that it carries with it; the wife feels it, positively wants it, and participates in the discussion, which may become an argument, in such a way as never to challenge her husband's position but rather always to maintain him in it. In view of this we may perhaps sum up a good deal that is being said about the need for dialogue between religious superiors and their subjects by saying that in the past religious superiors often acted as if they were parents and as if their subjects were children, whereas the superior-subject relationship ought to be modeled on that of husband and wife. That is, in the past superiors did not bring the majority of their subjects into their consultations and merely announced decisions to their subjects after they were made, sometimes adding a brief explanation; and subjects exercised a filial obedience by + + + ,Authority and° Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 611 trusting their superiors and accepting without argument the decisions they made. Now, however, it is everywhere being said that the fullest possible sharing of informa-tion ought to be the rule. Also, while there are times when general discussion is impossible and when su-periors are fully justified in acting on their own, it should be seen as exceptional and as only justified when there are good reasons, for superiors to act without prior consultation of their communities.6 That is, the re-sponsibility for the right government of a community and the carrying out of its work should be shared by all its members--and yet it must be clearly understood and willed by all that the superior is the head of the com-munity, with real authority over its members. In conclusion it might be said, firstly, that present developments are sometimes described--by both those who favor them and those who oppose them--as amount-ing to a change from monarchical to democratic govern-ment in religious orders. It seems better, however, to look for analogies in the family rather than in the po-litical arena, because the family is the fundamental ' human society and also because in the family authority and obedience both plainly spring from love, as they do in the Church. Secondly, it might be said that those who think of the religious superior as essentially analo-gous to a father or mother inevitably see in contemporary developments a weakening of religious authority. If, how- .ever~ they can accept the proposition that the relation-ship between superior and subject is not'as a rule anal-ogous to the parent-child relationship but to the husband-wife relationship, then they will see that con-temporary developments are tending to realize the true nature of religious authority and obedience,, not to weaken them. o Particularly significant, perhaps, is the suggestion which is being made in various quarters that information about the finances of a house and even of a province or an entire order should be made avail-. able to all members of the house, province, or order; for parents do not normally tell their children how much money they have or keep them informed about income and expenses, whereas modern husbands do normally share this information with their wives and discuss finan-cial problems with them. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER M. RUTH FOX, O.S.B. PrOviding an Atmosphere for Personality Growth in the Postulancy Religious life* has long been regarded by many as a mode of living almost wholly distinct from human life. Religious men and women were often in the past looked upon as creatures set apart to live an angelic life, a life free of all that was naturally human. They actually tried to live this way and tried to form the candidates to this life in the same manner. That is, the candidates were put into a mold when they entered the postulancy, and they spent their lifetime assimilating this mold into their very being. This procedure turned out molded religious who were not angelic nor human--nor happy. Today, however, we once again realize the basic Christian belief that our human nature is the greatest natural gift we have. It is to be enhanced, not destroyed, during our temporal life. Therefore, it does not matter what specific work or way of life we undertake, we all have a vocation to be human first of all. We cannot be Christian, much less religious, unless we are first of all human. This realization is especially important for those re-ligious who have the responsibility of "formation" in their communities. These sisters have been entrusted with the growth and maturity of not one but many human personalities. They should .be aware that it is possible in the first years of religious life to completely stunt the natural personality growth of the candidates. * This article was written with the help and supervision of Leo R. Kennedy, Ph.D., Chairman of the Department of Psychology, Creigh-ton University, Omaha. Dr. Kennedy; who has given professional service to many religious communities of men and women, encouraged the publishing of the article in the hopes that the suggestions con-tained in it would be implemented in Sister Formation prggrams. ÷ ÷ ÷ : Sister M. Ruth Fox, O.S.B., is the postulant directress at Sacred Heart Pri-ory; Richardton, North Dakota 58652. VOkUME 27~ 1968 613 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 But on the other hand, it is also possible, and impera-tive, to accept the human personality and to help it grow to its fullest capacity.1 In order to help the postulants achieve a mature per-sonality, the directress must first be aware of the char-acteristics of these young women o{ the 1960's. She should also have a kn6wledge of the process of per-sonalit) growth and the means to encourage proper growth. These topics will be discussed in this article. Who are these young women that come to the postu-lancy in 1968-69? Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties; therefore, they belong to a class of our society commonly called young adults. They are no longer adolescents or teen-agers, or at least they are in the last stages of that group. But neither are they adults. So the postulant directress cannot base her guidance of them on either adolescent or adult psychology exclu-sively, but must choose from both. An excellent way to get to know them is to read current articles written by, on, or for young adults. But the articles must be cur-rent. Even to go back to material written in the 1950's could be detrimental, because our young people have different ways of expressing their needs in the 1960's. Though it is true that the basic needs of human nature do not seem to change, there are certain needs that are either more emphasized now or are expressed differently than they were 5, 10, or 100 years ago. In current writing, today's young adults are classified as the New Breed, the Restless Generation, the Hippies, the Now Generation. But no matter what they are called, their main concerns are fulfillment, personalism, honesty, integrity, authenticity, and love.2 They have been raised in an era of prosperity and plenty. When they ask how to find personal worth, they are only told to take another helping from the silver platter. But they see that materialism does not give any meaning to life. They see the American society as a cold, mechanical, abstract, and emotionally mean-ingless place.3 Because society offers them so little that x W. W. Meissner, S.J., Group Dynamics in the Religious Li/e (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1965) presents a thorough discussion of the community's responsibility to foster growth. ~ See John Evoy, S.J., "How Neurotic is the New Breed?" Catholic Mind, v. 64 (December, 1966), pp. 28-42; Daniel Goulding, "The Rest-less Generation," Vital Speeches ol the Day, v. 32 (1966), pp. 506-508; Andrew Greeley, "A New Breed," America, CX, 21 (1964), pp. 706-709 and "A Farewell to the New Breed," America, CXIV, 23 (1966), pp. 801-804; George Herndl, "Time of the Now Generation," Liberal Education, LIII, 2 (1967); "The Hippies: Philosophy of a Subculture," Time, July 7, 1967, pp. 18-22; Robert Jones, "Man of the Year: The Inheritor," Time, January 6, 1967, pp. 18-23. 3See "Meet the Restless Generation," Changing Times, XXI, 6 (June, 1967), pp. 6-11. is meaningful and relevant, they are often forced into cynicism. But they nonetheless wish they could find val-ues, goals, or institutions to which they could commit themselvesA. They reject formal organization, legalism, and out-moded forms and regulations because these seem to stifle individualism. They want to be concerned with persons as persons.5 Perhaps this accounts for their~ emphasis on love and fulfillment. They desperately want to love and be loved for what they are. But they are afraid they are loved only for what they, do. In fact, they have been raised this way: "Do what I tell you, and I will show you I love.you." So they have no real faith in them-selves as persons, no real proof that they are lovable for what they are. Thus they preach love to the world in a frantic effort to find it in themselves and others. Our young people are deeply committed to decency, tolerance, and brotherhood--not as a goal, but as a reality to be lived now. "This generation has no utopia. Its idea is the happening. Let. it be concrete, let it be vivid, let it be personal. Let it be nowl" n Because tomorrow is so unsure and ever changing, today must be lived to the fullest. Living and experiencing cannot b.e postponed. It must be made to happen now. In summary then, the 1968-69 postulant is a member of the Now Generation who comes to the convent not to be "formed into a religious; she comes to be fulfilled as a person." 7 The goal of fulfillment need not frighten the postu-lant directress if she is aware of the process of per-sonality growth. The fundamental theory that should dominate the planning of formation (or fulfillment) is that the growth and development of the candidate must come from within the person. Growth cannot be di-rected from the outside because each individual must develop in terms of his own inner capacities. "The a~- tempt to produce growth by putting man into a mold or demanding conformity is based on a total misunder-standing of man, of his nature and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is sacrificing the person for the con-venience of the system; it is the mechanizing of man. It is a basic lack of respect for the mystery of the human person." 8 If growth and development are individual inner proc- 4 A good presentation of what youth is looking for is found in Erik Erikson, ed., The Challenge of Youth (New York: Doubleday, 1965). ~ Consult the articles by Andrew Greeley mentioned above. o Jones, p. 20. 7 Sister Miriam Rooney, O.P., "The New Breed Enters the Con-vent," C~;oss and Crown, v. 16 (1964), 397. s Paul D'Arcy and Eugene Kennedy, The Genius o] the Apostolate (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965) p. 5. + ÷ ÷ P o stul ancy " . . VOLUME 27, 1968 615 esses, what is the role of the postulant directress? She must provide the atmosphere in which the maximum growth and development are possible. To do this, she must first of all be aware of the psychological process called ego identity. Although this is a lifelong process in which the self links the past, present, and future into one person, there is a crisis of identity which occurs duri.ng late adolescence. At this time the young person realizes he is leaving the security of childhood and entering the uncertainties of young adulthood. He is wavering be-tween what he was and what he hopes to be.a Thus the postulant is seeking to clarify her understanding of who she is and what her role is to be. She is seeking for a sense of self and self-acceptance. "The adolescent hopes to forge for himself a perspective and direction, to achieve an effective integration out of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adult-hood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosis, psychosis, or delinquent behavior." x0 To help the postulant through this identity crisis, the directress must provide her with acceptance and un-derstanding. Experiencing warm acceptance by impor-tant people in one's life is a prerequisite for knowing and accepting oneself. Obviously the important person in the postulant's life is her directress. So if the postu-lant is to grow, she must know she is loved by her superior. This means that the directress must be warm and loving, not just toward the group but toward each individual in the group. She must take each one into her lieart and really love her. She must be so warm and ac-cepting that the postulant would feel free to confide in her all that she was, is, and hopes to be. Each postulant should realize that she would be loved no matter how many unlovable things she may have done or will do. It is in this atmosphere that the girl can admit and accept her feelings and failures. A person who accepts him-self is also secure enough to accept others. So when each postulant can accept herself and the other postulants, a Christian community of love is. Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 ~ A complete explanation of the identity process is found in Erik Erikson, lnsight and Responsibility (New York: Norton, 1964) and "Identity and the Life Cycle," Psychological Issues, v. I (New York: International Universities Press, 1959), pp. 111-117, by the same au-thor. The application of the process to religious life is found in Walter DeBont, O.P., "Identity Crisis and the Male Novice," Rrw~w roR RELigiOUS, v. 21 (1962), pp. 104-128; Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: Newman, 1964); and Sister Thomas More, C.S.J., "Self Identification and Religious Li~e," in The Retreat Master Faces the Nun in the Modern World, ed. John Powell and others (St. MarTs, Kansas: St. Mary's College, 1965). ~ McLaughlin, p. $4. formed. Having experienced a sense of love and security in the postulancy, the young woman is better prepared to be an apostle of love. Not only should the directress be warm and loving, but the very surroundings in the convent should reflect this feminine warmth. Why can't postulancies (and con-vents) look homey? Warmth and growth would be en-couraged by such things as colorful drapes on the windows; a vase of flowers on the table, pictures '(not just saints!) on the wall, end tables cluttered with cur-rent magazines and newspapers, family photographs on the piano, a knitting bag on the floor. If we have nor-mal healthy conditions, we will. foster normal healthy growth. Many times, normal people leave our convents because they cannot lead abnormal lives in abnormal living conditions. Let's keep the normal ones111 In an atmosphere of warmth and affection, the postu-lant will feel more free to be herself, and her per-sonality will thus grow in a healthful manner. To make her growth and establishment of identity easier, the directress should realize another difficulty that the postu-lant faces. If the girl experienced normal adolescent de-velopment, she probably established a certain sense of identity before her entrance into the convent. She had a secure place in her family and probably had definite responsibilities to fulfill at home. She possessed ~a certain status in her peer group and perhaps held offices of importance in her high school or college. But in entering the religious community, all these former securities and relationships are either greatly modified or broken en-tirely. She is no longer able to live her identity in the same way. Therefore, to give her a sense of security and continuity, couldn't these healthy relationships be al-lowed to continue? The postulant's family was the main environment for her personality growth since birth. Should it suddenly be .discarded as if it were no longer of value? "The breakdown of family ties magnifies the identity crisis." 12 Thus the postulant's family should feel free and welcome to visit her anytime. Frequent letters should be en-couraged. Perhaps she could go home for weddings, graduations, anniversaries, and an occasional weekend. There is no apparent reason for cutting off all ties with her former friends either. Letters should be allowed to come and go without inspection or limitation. As the postulant gets involved with college and new friend- ~ See Eugene Kenned)', M.M., "Differentiated Discipline in the Seminary," National Catholic Education Association Bulletin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), pp. 79--89. m Joseph Simmons, C.S.C., "The Catholic College Student: His War against Protection," Ave Maria, CIV, 16 (October 15, 1966), p. 6. 4. 4- Postulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 617 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR REI;IGIOUS 618 ships, the letters will gradually decrease. Perhaps rthe postulant's closest friends could spend a weekend with her at the convent. (This would not only .be good for ,her, but also for the convent's public relations program.) Discarding uniforms for the postulants might also favor personality growth. If the postulant continues ¯ wearing' the same dresses she wore before entrance, she has another source of security. At a time when many former securities are left behind, this will give her a sense of identity with her past. It might also help to abolish the notion that "the habit makes the nun." Such a notion is harmful because the postulant may ex-pect the uniform to produce automatic changes in her behavior. She is thus disappointed in herself and in the life when she discovers that she remains the same per-son. Perhaps there is a reason for the donning of a habit at the time of reception into the ,novitiate or at profes-sion of vows. But it seems that at this time of identity crisis, the postulant would be "more secure in her own clothing. Obedience also poses a problem for the directress and the postulants. Today's youth feel that obedience de-stroys their freedom and perhaps smothers their in-dividual identity. They will ordinarily not refuse to obey; but before carrying out a command, they want to sit down and discuss th~ "why" of it with the superior. This is not to be taken as disrespect or unwillingness to obey. They only wish to obey in a more human manner by understanding what they are doing.13 When they un-derstand, they are able to commit themselves to the deed in a responsible manner. If the directress can find no r~asonable answer to the postulant's question, "Why should I~do this?" perhaps it should not be done. Even occasional rebellion on the part of an individual may be a healthy assertion of self. Though often referred to as obedience, strict ad-herence to rules and schedules is frequently an escape from responsible, decision making. Directresses should provide as many opportunities as possible for the postu-lants to make their own decisions. It is difficult to see how this can be accomplished if every minute of the day is scheduled for the girls. Other college girls of their age devise their own schedules. They decide the times to study, to write letters, to ~lean their rooms, to retire. A postulant- will soon learn that if she spends all her study time reading novels or watching TV, she will begin to fail in her college classes. She learns this through per-sonal expgrience the hard way. But this is much more ~ See Stafford Poole, C.M., "The New Breed and the Old Semi-nary," Jubilee, XIII, 2 (June, 1965), pp. 8-13. effective in producing healthy growth in responsibility than if she were simply told the first night in the con-vent: "We study from 8:00 to I0:00 every night." The minimizing of rules and scheduled living is not a relaxation. It is just putting responsibility where it be-longs, on the person. It is changing enforced discipline to self-discipline. Related to rules and schedules is the assignment of household chores such as cleani.ng, ironing, and washing dishes. It is certainly profitable for all members of a community to participate in keeping house. These tasks should be looked upon as means of serving the other members o[ the community. Again, as much initiative as possible should be left to the girls in deciding when and how to do the work. They could also decide among themselves who would do what, and how often they wanted to exchange tasks. These are just a few of the small but important ways in which postulants can be encouraged to grow in maturity. "When we take youngsters out of high school who are still adolescents--a rebellious stage, still longing for adult status--and never let them get a taste of what it means to be an adult, what can we expect but that they will be unhappy subjects." 14 Too often, our candi-dates are not only kept in adolescence, but are even thrown back to childhood. We can help them grow into adulthood simply by giving them trust and responsi-bility. 15 However, there is really not much initiative and re-sponsibility involved in pushing a broom, and a young woman's need for self-actualization is not met in this way. College girls of our day see themselves as creative and productive, and they have great social concern.1~ They want challenging and difficult work with little intervention from others. If they are not stimulated in this direction, they may withdraw into themselves or develop other signs of maladjustment. If we wish to have zealous sisters, we must not let this youthful enthusiasm of the postulant wither while she is busy writing term papers and wiping dishes. Since she is a member of the Now Generation, she wants to do something meaningful for others now. She wants to undertake a task where there is a definite need for her services and self. In doing a~ John Evoy, S.J., and Van Cristoph, S.J., Personality Development in the Religious LiIe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 183. an A very helpful book is Psychological Aspects of Spiritual Develop-ment, Michael O'Brien and Raymond Steimel, ed., (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1964). a0 See Elizabeth Monroe Drews, "Counseling for Self-actualization in Gifted Girls and Young Women," Journal of Counseling Psy-chology, XII, 2 (Summer, 1965), pp. 167-175. ÷ ÷ ÷ P ostulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 619 Sister M. ~ Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 620 a task in which she i~ needed, the young woman comes to 'see her own personal worth. "Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic' value, that he is im-portant, worthwhile." lz It often happens in the religious life that people who want to do great things are de-mobilized. But it should be realized that it is a sign of health if a person longs to do something important with his life.is Since postulants are expected to be normal young women, they should be allowed to fulfill this normal need by doing something meaningful for others. Op-portunities within the convent can be found to satisfy some of this need. The older sisters, especially those in the infirmary, need and appreciate the friendship of youth. And youth, in turn, can profit greatly from the wisdom and experience of age. The postulants should be permitted the enrichment of their personalities by close association with all the other members of the com-munity. A meaningful apostolate for action should also be sought outside the convent. Some areas of investigation might be the parish CCD program, high school or young adult discussion clubs, Newman Club, homes for the aged, hospitals, schools, and so forth. Of course, these are only temporary apostolates, but they will satisfy the need for meaningful action now. Howevdr, the postulant must also be well aware of the !ongterm goal toward which she is working. That is, she should have some idea of her future status in the com-munity so that she sees her future role in the group as an important one, one that is worthwhile waiting for. In the fulfillment of self-enjoined and community-appointed apostolates, the postulant will reveal her psy-chological maturity. The directress should watch for manifestations of inferidrity feelings, egotism, undue competitiveness, hbstility, rigidity, and a false sense of reality.~9 Because the girls are not conforming to rigid standards of performance, their personal strengths and weaknesses will appear. The directress can then counsel them accordingly and either help them to grow toward maturity or to realize that they would find greater ful-fillment in another way of life. One other means of providing an atmosphere favor-able to personality growth will be mentioned. Postu-lants, like other normal young women, negd to be free to agsociate with young people of their own age who are 1~Thomas Dubay, S.M., "Psychological Needs in the Religious Context," REvmw FOR Ra~LIGXOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 525. ~s Refer' to the article by Eugene Kennedy noted above. ~ Trafford Maher, s.J., Lest We Build on Sand, (St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Association, 1962), pp. 203-208. not necessarily in the religious state. Means should some-how be provided for them to meet and make friends out-side the convent on an intellectual and social level. They will grow through these new interpersonal relationships, for in growing concerned and interested in others, there is a loss of self-centeredness. In listening to the prob-lems of a new college girl friend, the postulant may come to appreciate her own life more. And in relating to a boy of her own age, she will grow in maturity and womanliness. Yes, the postulant should have contact with boys. She grew up amid boys in her family, neighborhood,: and school. She hopefully had the experience of dating. Now after she enters the convent, why should the sight of a person of the opposite sex be denied her? Will the sight of a boy suddenly be harmful to her? It would be so much healthier if she could continue to relate to young men of her own age especially. In relating to them, she grows in femininity, which is very important to her as a young woman. If there is a danger to chastity, if the postulant is not able to control her sexual drives, then it is certainly best for her and for the community to find this out soon. How sad it is for women who have taken vows to discover they cannot speak to a man on the school faculty or a doctor on the staff without becom-ing either rigid and afraid or sexually stimulated. To permit these healthful relationships with other young people, the postulants could be permitted tO at-tend (sometimes without their directress) Newman Club gatherings, interfaith meetings, weekend retreats, and an occasional evening concert or drama. Healthful personality growth in the convent does not just happen. The proper atmosphere has to be prepared and sustained. This is the task of the postulant di-rectress. She must know the characteristics and needs of the young women she is guiding. She must accept and love them unconditionally and provide them with op-portunities for growth in love, responsibility, and womanliness. "Every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality development together with (and we might add because of) their achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity." ~0 SUPPLEMENTARY ]~IBLIOGRAPHY Allport, Gordon. Pattern and Growth in Personality. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961. Cameron, Norman. Personality Development and Psychopathol-ogy: A Dynamic Approach. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1963. Edward Carney, OSFS. "The Seminary Rule," National Catholic ~0 Dubay, p. 523. ÷ ÷ Pos~laney VOLUME 27, 1%8 62] Education Association Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 108-114. D'Arcy, Paul."'Differentlated Seminary Discipline," NCEA Bul-letin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), 85-91. Dignan, Sister Howard, B.V.M. "Identity and Change in Re-ligious Life," RrvIEw fOR RV.LICIOUS, XXV, 4 (July, 1966), 669-677. Dondero, Autin, F.S.C. No Borrowed Light: Mental Health for Religious. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1965. Frick, Willard. "Healthy Interpersonal Relationships'. an Ex-ploratory Study," Journal of Individual Psychology, XXIII, 1 (May, 1967), 59-66. Gallen, Joseph, s.J., "Femininity and Spirituality," REVIEW for RrL~G~OUS, XX, 4 (July, 1964), 237-256. Goldberg, Arthur. "J.uvenatrics'. Study of Prolonged Adoles-cence," The Cleartng House, XLI, 5 (December, 1966), 218- 222. Hargadon, Kevin, F.S.C. "Psychological Requirement for Re-ligious Vocation," National Catholic Guidance Conference Journal, X, 4 (Summer, 1966), 271-279. Huyghe, Gerard. Tension and Change: The Problems of Re-ligious Orders Today. Westminster: Newman, 1966. McKinney, Fred. Psychology o[ Personal ~ld]ustment. New York: Wiley, 1941. Maher, Trafford, S.J. Self--.4 Measureless Sea (Cou.nseling: Theory and Practice). St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Associa-tion, 1966. Regan, Francis. "Authority and Obedience in Seminary Train-ing," NCE/1 Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 103-107. Rogers, Carl. On Becoming a Person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960. Schneiders, Alexander. "Adolescence and the Challenge of Ma-turity," National Catholic Guidance ConIerence Journal, X, 2 (Winter, 1966), 109-117. Simmons, Joseph, C.S.C. "Seminary as Institution," Catholic Education Review, LXIV, 26 (February 1966), 97-105. Stafford, John, C.S.V. "The Religious Rule and Psychological Development," Rrvxv.w voR R~ioIo~s, XXV, 2 (March, 1966), 294-304. Van Kaam, Adrian. Personality Fulfillment in the Religious Life. ~.Vilkes-Barre: Dimension Books, 1967. Walters, Sister Annette, S.C.J. "Attitudes, Values, and Motiva-tional Systems of the American Catholic Woman College Student," Catholic Psychological Record, IV, 1 (Spring, 1966), 20-34. Wilson, C. R. "Self-Acceptance and Religious Security," R~vi~w vo~ R~Lxcxoos, XXI, 6 (November, 1962), 555-559. 4- 4- $i~t~r M." Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Proper Juridical Articles of.Constitutions In the article, "Constitutions without Canons," REw~.w fOR R~.LIOIOUS, May, 1968, the purpose was to eliminate as far as possible the canons or laws of the Church from the constitutions of congregations of sisters and brothers. The result would be that the constitutions would almost completely consist of laws proper to the particular institute, which is the nature and definition of constitntions. These proper juridical laws are n~cessary determinations of matters that are undetermined in canon law or' matters over and above the norms of canon law. It was also advised in the same article that all detailed matters now found in constitutions should be placed in the custom book or in a similar book. The present article lists in 'the first section the juridical topics of proper law that should be in the constitutions, and in the second section gives added matters that I now believe should also be placed in the custom book, that is, matters over and above those put in the custom book in the "Constitutions Without Canons" article. The number in parenthesis after each topic is that of the corresponding article in "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," RrwEw for REL~C~OUS, 25 (1966), 361--~57. The vote of a council is mentioned in the first sec-tion for the purpose of information, but we recom-mended in the "Constitutions without Canons" article that all votes of councils be confined to lists in the cus-tom book. The listing of the matters proper to each institute will also enable all o[ these to make a more accurate study of the juridical matters that should constitute the proper law of an institute. This can result ultimately at least in the increase,or decrease o[ the matters listed in this article. A close study of this aspect was not too easy ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.J.," writes ~rom St. Joseph's Church; ~1 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania VOLUME 27, 1968 in the past due to the large number of canons contained in the constitutions. I. MATTERS THAT MUST BE l~TAINED IN THE CONSTITUTIONS ]oseph F. Gallen, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1. General purpose (1) 2. Special purpose (2) 3. Authorization necessary [or a change in the special purpose or in the particular works (3-4) 4. Classes of members (5)1 5. Authorization necessary for a change in the reli-gious habit (16) 6. Superior competent to admit to the postulancy and any vote of a council (38)2 7. Duration of postulancy beyond six months (40) 8. Higher superior competent' to prolong the postu-lancy and any vote of a council (40); to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months and any vote of a council (40)3 9, Superior competent to dismiss a postulant and any vote of a council (38)4 1 "Unless the state of affairs suggests otherwise, care must be taken to produce in women's communities a single category of sisters" (Ab-bott- Gallagher, The Documents oI Vatican li [paperback edition], 478). * The Code of Canon Law contains no legislation concerning the superior competent to admit to the postulancy. The matter is there-fore governed by the particular constitutions. In the modern practice of the Holy See the mother general has the right of admission when the congregation is not divided into provinces; if such a division exists, this right is given to the higher superiors or to the mother general for the entire congregation and to the mothers provincial for their own provinces. In the latter type of congregation the right is sometimes given only to the mother general. A very small number of congregations demand the consultative vote of the respective council and an equally small number prescribe a deliberative vote. * Canon 539, § 2, gives the right of prolonging the postulancy to higher superiors. In the constitutions the higher superior who has the right of admission is also the one who has the right of prolonga-tion. Therefore, this matter was explained in the preceding note, and the statements there made on the consultative' and deliberative vote are also applicable here. Recent constitutiofis permit the mother general, provincial, or higher superiors to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months provided a postulancy of six months is preserved. At times no vote, th( consultative, or even the deliberative vote o[ the respective council has been prescribed for the abbreviation (REVIEW for RELI¢IOVS, 21 [1962], 409). * In the practice o[ the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the dis-missal of postulants is reserved in the same manner as admission to higher superiors. Some constitutions demand a consultative vote of the council for dismissal even though no vote was required for ad-mission. A few constitutions give a local superior the right of dis-missing a postulant in an urgent case. I0. Higher superior competent to admit to the novice-ship and vote of a council (44)5 11. Authority competen.t for the establishment or transfer of a novitiate (46) 12. Necessity or advisability of a novitiate in each province (47)° 13. Duration of a noviceship beyond a year (50)7 14. Authority competent to dispense from the second year of noviceship (50) 15. Manner of beginning the noviceship (52) 16. Superior competent for the dismissal of a novice and any vote of a council (67)s "In virtue of canon 543 admission to the noviceship appertains to a higher superior, and consequently to the mother general or provincial in a centralized institute, to the superior of a monastery of nuns, and to the mother superior in a congregation that has a similar monastic structure. The same canon demands that the council or chapter have a vote in this admission. The particular constitutions decide whether the council or the chapter has the vote. In centralized institutes the council will always have the vote; in monasteries of nuns and insti. tutes of similar structure the chapter has the vote, but there can be also a previous vote of the council. It is likewise left to the constitu-tions to determine whether this vote of the council or chapter is deliberative or consultative. According to the ordinary practice of the Sacred Congregation the vote is deliberative, but in a few congre-gations it is only consultative. Congregations divided into provinces can have variations. The competent higher superior is frequently the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council, but often this must be supple-mented by the confirmation, approval, or consent'of the mother general either alone or with the deliberative or consultative vote of the general council. In other constitutions admission appertains to the mother general or the higher superior with the deliberative or consultative vote of the council, and, finally, in some institutes the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative vote of her council. ~ Canon law does not oblige each province to have its own novitb ate, but the constitutions impose this obligation either absolutely or as far as it is possible. The Normae of 1901 stated that it was appro-priate for each province to have its own novitiate (n. 303). ¢ Canon 555, § 2, states that a period beyond a year demanded for the noviceship by the particular constitutions is not required for validity unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. In practice it is required only for liceity. This longer period is practically always two years, but a few institutes have a noviceship of eighteen months. S According to canon'571, § 1, the competent authority for the dismissal of a novice is the superior or the chapter according to the constitutions. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation, the dis-missal of a novice is reserved to higher superiors with the vote of the council, which is more frequently consultative than deliberative. In congregations without provinces, this higher superior is the mother general. In congregations with provinces, the right is more frequently reserved to the mother general, but in some institutes it is given to the higher superior or the mother provincial. When the right is reserved to the mother general, the constitutions at times enact that the mother provincial and her council are to be con-sulted. Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ ÷ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17. Superior competent for the prolongation of the noviceship and any vote of a council (68)9 18. Duration. of temporary vows beyond three years; length of each temporary profession, for example, one of three, another of two years, or vice versa; five annual professions, and so forth (72) 19. Higher superior competent to admit to the pro-fessions, to prolong temporary profession, and vote of a council (73)1° ~ Canon 571, § 2, gives the right of prolongation of the noviceship to higher superiors but does not prescribe any vote of the council. Great variety is found in this matter in constitutions. In congregations without provinces, the right appertains to the mother general. The constitutions often demand no vote but in some the consultative and less frequently the deliberative vote of the council is prescribed. In congregations divided into provinces, the right of prolongation is given to the higher superior or the mother general, alone or with the consultative or deliberative vote of the respective council. 10 In virtue of canon 543, only a higher superior is competent to admit to any religious profession, whether temporary (first, renewal, or prolongation), or perpetual (solemn or simple). The competent higher superior is the mother superior in a congregation that has the monastic'structure and the mother general in a~centralized congrega-tion that is not divided into pr6vinces. In a congregation that has provinces, the constitutions determine whether the one admitting is the mother general or the mother provincial. Such constitutions fre-quently reserve the admissions to all professions to the mother gen-eral. This right is often given also to the mother provincial or higher superiors. Frequently also, and especially for perpetual profession, the mother provincial admits but her admission mnst be confirmed by the mother general. In a few institutes, at least sonde admissions ap-pertain to the mother general and her council but the request for the admission is made by the mother provincial with her council, for example, with the deliberative vote of this council for admiss!on to first temporary profession. If the constitutions do not determine the legitimate higher superior for the prolongation of temporary vows (c. 574, § 2), this appertains to the higher superior who has the right of admitting to either temporary or perpetual profession, but more probably to the latter when the higher superior for both of these admissions is not the same in the law of the constitutions. Canon 543 demands that there be a vote of the council or chapter, without specifying whether the vote is to be deliberative or consulta-tive, for admission to first temporary profession and perpetual pro-fession, whether simple 9r solemn, but not for the renewal of tem-porary vows nor for the prolongation of temporary profession. Canon 575, § 2, demands that the vote for the first temporary profession be deliberative, which is also to be extended to institutes in which the first profession is perpetual by privilege. The same canon appears to prescribe that the vote for the perpetual profession, simple or solemn, be only consultative; but the Holy See in approving consti-tutions interprets the canon as permitting a deliberative vote. There-fore, the Code of Canon Law permits either a consultative or delibera-tive vote for perpetual profession. In centralized congregations the council of the competent higher superior always has the vote. In congregations that have the monastic structure, the chapter has the vote; but there can also be a previous vote of the council. In the constitutions of centralized congregations: (1) the vote of the council.for the first temporary prgfession must be deliberative by reason of canon 575, § 2; (2) for renewals of temporary professions the constitutions commonly prescribe the consultative 20. Superior competent to permit an anticipated re-newal of temporary vows and any vote of a council (78)11 21. Authority competent to dispense from duration of temporary vows beyond three years (74) 22. Superior competent to receive the vows (74) 23. Formula of professions (75) 24. Definition of the vow of poverty (82) 25. Prescription on common life with regard to pov-erty (93) 26. Definition of the vow of chastity (94) 27. Definition of the vow of obedience (95-6, 100) 28. Obligation to obey constitutions and other orders of superiors (99) 29. Superior competent to exclude from renewing temporary vows or from making perpetual profession and any vote of a council (152)t-° 30. (Diocesan) A petition for dismissal of a professed of temporary vows must be made by the mother general and any vote of her council (155)la 31. Previous judgment on the incorrigibility and dis-missal of a. professed of perpetual vows and vote of coun-cil (158)a4 32. Superior competent for the declaration of fact in an automatic dismissal and vote of council (161)15 vote; (3) for the prolongation of temporary vows, the constitutions more frequently demand no vote but some require the consultative and a few the deliberative vote; (4) for perpetual profession the vote prescribed by the constitutions is practically always consultative. a According to canon 577, § 2, an anticipation as such may be per-mitted by any superior, whether a higher or minor local. However, this right is only to admit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of such a profession must be observed, and therefore the admission must be made by the compe-tent higher superior according to the constitutions, as explained in the preceding note. In constitutions an anticipation is usually re-served to a higher superior or to a particular higher superior. ~ Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her couucil, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors cither alone or with the consultative or, less frequently, the delibera-tive vote of the council (REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, 25 [1966], 391). ~ In a diocesan congregation the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary, but the constitutions will frequently require the consultative or deliberative vote of her council for such a petition (REVIEW fOR RELmtOUS, 16 [1957], 272). x, Canon law does not clearly demand the intervention of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismis-sal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pon-tifical and diocesan congregations is to be referred to the mot

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

Issue 70.1 of the Review for Religious, 2011. ; Determining Change Making the: Spiritual Exercises ,Growing Spiritually Exploring Religious Life QUARTERLY 70.1 2 0 i 1 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 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. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯\Veb site: ~-w.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 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 1{)8 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. ~ gournal of Ca~hohc ~piri~uah~ 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 Martir~ Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 70.1 2011 contents prisms 4 Prisms 6 17 determining change Agents of Change: Six Models Louis M. Savary shares and explains six models of being a change agent that were created by a long ago deceased Jesuit, Joseph Grau. Christ-like Empathy in Those Who Govern John H. Zupez SJ draws on Mark's gospel to encourage religious superiors and anyone exercising authority to learn from the empathy of Jesus shown towards others. 25 44 making the spiritual exercises The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Path to Virtue James Menkhaus explores the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, using the language of virtue ethics and emphasizing a new understanding of the virtues of friendship and presence. Reflecting on Readiness to Make the Spiritual Exercises Myree Harris RSJ offers some possible questions and reflections for a better assessment of retreatants' readiness to enter into the full 30oday Spiritual Exercises experience. Review for Religious 59 growing spiritually Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective Julius D. Leloczky OCist reflects on the contemporary obsession with death and recalls how our Christian faith gives us a life-perspective. Spiritual Direction 101 J. Thomas Hamel SJ reflects on the practice of spiritual direction understood as a dual ministry with the roles of giving and receiving by the director and the directee. 73 84 exploring religious life Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons Phyllis Zagano suggests that in light of the Apostolic Visitation of U.S. women religious the monastic framework proposed applies to the minority of institutes and religious vocations, whereas the larger body of institutes and new vocations are moving to other ways of ministering, presaging the church's return to the ancient vocation of the diaconate for women. Revisiting Obedience William P. Clark OMI reviews the challenges that contemporary culture has presented to the understanding and practice of religious obedience. departments 95 Scripture Scope: Jeremiah: A Messenger of God Caught between a Rockand a Hard Place 100 Book Reviews 3 70.1 2011 prisms 4 I t seems strange to me to be writing my own farewell as editor. In the 68.4 issue of the 2009 journal, I had written in this space that I had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and knew only that I had as long to live here as God wanted. As I write this, my death is not imminent, but I did want to see an orderly transition of my editor's responsibilities. I have completed 22 years as editor, and it has been for me a privilege to publish so many authors, a call to a continuing learning experience, and an occa-sion of the deepening of my own religious life. I hope and pray that our readers can also identify a learning and deepening for their religious lives as their experience of this journal. As the title page indicates, Father Michael G. Harter SJ is the new editor, beginning with this current volume. Father Harter brings his own rich life experience to this job. He has been involved in religious formation both as assistant novice director and as novice director and director of Ministry Training Services in Denver, Colorado. He has been managing editor of the Jesuit maga-zine America. He has been called to religious leadership as a community superior and as the provincial executive assistant. He has served on the board of Praesidium, the accrediting agency in abuse risk management. He has traveled exten-sively and knows church and religious life from Europe to Africa to India to Australia. In fact, he served as associate editor of Review for Religious for two years before he became novice director Review for Religious for the Jesuit St. Paul novitiate and wrote the single Prisms not under my name. At the same time, I would also like to introduce Rosemary Jermann as our new book editor. Rosemary Jermann also brings a rich experience in editing; she has been a co-editor of Theology Digest up to its last publica-tion in June 2010. Because Theology Digest was sponsored by the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis Unversity, Jermann also had the opportunity to teach within the department. She will also contribute her edito-rial skills to the final product of each issue. Any editor is only as good as the staff and board that monitor and support him. I have been extremely fortunate in having a devoted staff identified in Mary Ann Foppe, Judy Sharp, Tracy Gramm, and Jean Read (t), and asso-ciate editors as Iris Ann Ledden SSND, Regina Siegfried ASC, Clare Boehmer ASC, Philip Fischer SJ (t), Michael Harter SJ, Canon Law editors Richard Hill SJ (~') and Elizabeth McDonough OP, and Scripture Scope editor Eugene Hensell OSB. We as editors and staff have received invaluable help from our past and present advisory board members since 1990: David J. Hassel SJ (~), Mary Margaret Johanning SSND (~'), Iris Ann Ledden SSND, Sean Sammon FMS, Wendy Wright, Suzanne Zuercher OSB, Edmundo Rodriguez SJ, Joanne Wolski Conn, David Werthmann CSSR, Joel Rippinger OSB, Patricia Wittberg SC, Jim and Joan Felling, Kathryn Richards FSp, Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, Adrian Gaudin SC (?), Raymond Marie Gerard FSP, Eugene Hensell OSB, Miriam Ukeritis csJ, Lou and Angela Menard, Martin Erspamer OSB, Kathleen Hughes RSCJ, Bishop Terry Steib SVD, Margaret Guider OSF, and Paul 5" Coutinho SJ. My thanks to everyone. Remember me in your prayers. David L. Fleming SJ 70.1 2011 LOUIS M. SAVARY Agents of Change: Six Models determining change We are all called to be agents of change. It is a human calling as well as a Christian call-ing. However, we are not all called to be the same kind of change agent. A dear friend of mine, long ago deceased, Joseph Grau, a Jesuit priest for many years, created a simplified way of identifying the different kinds of change agent styles available. His naming and defining of these six models is a genuine contribution to contemporary spiritual practice, and his insights deserve to be re-presented. I share this article as a tribute to him. The Three Players in Making a Change According to Dr. Grau, there are six mod-els of change agency, each of which has three major players: (I) the People, (2) the Structure, (3) the Change Agent. Louis M. Savary PhD, STD, may be addressed at 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. Review for Religious The term "People" refers to the set of persons who want or need change. Included in "People" are the individu-als and groups experiencing treatment that is unfair, unjust, unsafe, abusive, prejudicial, or cruel but who cannot effectively defend or protect themselves from the harmful situation or who cannot change and correct the unwelcome situation by themselves. Certain groups may be enduring racial prejudice, unsafe working conditions, unfair employer demands, denial of human rights, political oppression, gender discrimination, rejection by a church, or unequal treat-ment by institutions such as insurance companies, credit card companies, banks, educational institutions, or law enforcement. Individuals who want or need change might include children who are physically or sexually abused by family members, students being bullied at school, employees being harassed at the workplace, or those in neighbor-hoods that are unsafe because of gang warfare. "People" may also be extended to include animals and other forms in nature, since animals (that is, endan-gered species) and nature (that is, forests, the ozone layer) are often helpless by themselves to change an unsafe or destructive environment caused by humans. The term "Structure" refers to the unjust societal or institutional structure that is in need of change. "Structure" is the generalized term used here .for any existing politi-cal, social, cultural, ecclesiastical, or familial situation or system that allows, promotes, or condones practices that are unjust, unfair, illegal, uncaring, biased, abu-sive, or cruel to individuals or groups who usually can-not defend or protect themselves from such situations. These harmful situations may have been caused or cre-ated by unfair or unjust laws, lack of awareness, corrupt 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Change If you choose to be a Change Agent in an unfair situation, you can play at least six different roles-- in helping to effect the needed change. 8 political organizations, racially biased societal norms, prejudicial cultural prac6ces, religious bigotry, oppres-sive government, inadequate social services, or abusive family behavior. The "Change Agent" (CA) is one who chooses to try to change an unsafe, unjust, or unfair Structure in favor of the affected People. The "Change Agent" is usu-ally viewed as an individual but could be a small group of people. If you choose to be a Change Agent in an unfair situation, you can act in at least six different ways--or play at least six different roles--in helping to effect the needed change. 1. The Advocate Agent of Change ~ The most common model of change agent is'the advocate (CA) who personally confronts the Structure on behalf of the People. The Advocate Agent is often inde-pendent of and outside the group of people for whom he or she is advocating. For example, in a class action suit against, say, a pharmaceutical company (the Structure), a lawyer (CA) personally advocates in court on behalf of the consumers who have been treated unfairly or unjustly (the People). Thus, on behalf of the People, the Change Agent tries to affect or influence the Structure: People--> CA--> Structure Lawyers are not the only Advocates. A teacher (CA) can approach the school administration (Structure) to Review for Relig4ous advocate on behalf of students (People) who need spe-cialized care or tutoring. A parent (CA) can approach the local police (Structure) and advocate for protection of children (People) who are being bullied on neighborhood streets. A therapist (CA) can write letters to Medicaid (Structure), advocating for certain patients (People) to receive disability payments. A teacher (CA) can write let-ters of recommendation to colleges (Structure), advocat-ing for certain students (People) to receive scholarships or financial aid. A physician (CA) can contact hospice (Structure) to advocate on behalf of dying patients (People). Pastoral ministers (CA) can approach the prison system (Structure), requesting religious training and other forms of spirituality for inmates (People). 2. The Empowerment Agent of Change In this second model, the Change Agent organizes and empowers the People, who then directly confront the Structure. There is a big difference between the first two models. In the Advocacy model, the CA deals directly with the Structure; in this second model the CA deals directly with the People wanting change, and not with the Structure. In this model, the CA teaches the People how to approach the Structure directly and advocate for themselves. The most obvious example of Empowerment is the community organizer. Empowerment Agents may or may not belong to the community they are empowering, but they obviously have charisma and organizing skills that most others don't possess. The Empowerment CA teaches people how to get organized, how to formulate and present their request, how to approach the people who representthe Structure; what their legal rights are, what to do in the face of resistance, how to develop a Plan B. 9 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Change The Empowerment Agent works directly on the People, organizing and training them, so that the People are prepared to approach the Structure directly. Thus, CA--> People --> Structure In one of the social ministries at our parish, a min-istering couple (CA) trains unemployed people (People) in how to get jobs in the business world (Structure) by teaching them how to write effective resumes, how to answer questions in a job interview, how to dress prop-erly, how to network with other job seekers, and other skills useful in landing a job. Some professionals (CA) teach groups of unfairly treated workers (People) how to form labor unions in their workplaces (Structure) or how to demand safer working conditions. The Empowerment Agent knows how to generate "people pressure" to change a situation on behalf of cer-tain groups. Some years ago in Washington, DC, when natural childbirth procedures were becoming popular among mothers but not among doctors and hospitals, workshop leaders (CA) told expectant mothers (People) that they had a legal right to demand natural childbirth in a hospital (Structure). Although obstetricians pre-ferred to deliver babies through chemically-induced childbirth, the mothers' repeated demands for natural childbirth practices in hospitals prevailed. 3. The Lifestyle Agent of Change Grau's third model of change agency is the Lifestyle Agent. Here, the CA is one of the People and acts as one of them. Thus, the CA belongs to the very group of those seeking their rights or some concession they believe to be rightfully theirs. A common example is a group of college students (People) protesting some policy of the college (Structure) that they wish to change. Each of the protesting students is a CA. Or, to put it another way, Review for Religious the group of students as an entity (the People) is the CA. Although you or I as specific students in that group seem to be merely one of the protesting students, nevertheless, you and I are legitimately called CAs. In this scenario, People (CA) People --> Structure The most common forms of Lifestyle Agents include the protest march, the worker strike, the sit-in, the let-ter- writing campaign, and the political campaign. In each case, groups of people (who are both People and Change Agents) coordinate, organize, and mobilize their time, money, and efforts to change an unjust situation (Structure). During the 1960s, there was much resistance to racial integration of African Americans into white public institutions such as schools, churches, restaurants, and clubs. Two white couples in a Southern state desired to live a non-racially-prejudiced lifestyle. To an exclu-sive private school their own children were attending (Structure), they (CA) gave scholarships for a number of academically qualified African American children (People), whose applications the school could not reject. The same two couples invited African American cou-ples (People) to dine with them (CA) at their favorite exclusive "white" restaurant (Structure). The restaurant owner could either welcome the African Americans or lose the business of two wealthy white families who were regular and generous customers. The owner chose to keep earning money. 4. The Direct Service Agent of Change In some cases, the Structure (that is, the local gov-ernment) is incapable of meeting the needs of a group of People, such as the poor, the hungry, the homeless, or immigrants, because of a lack of funds or personnel. So, someone must step up and directly meet those needs. 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Cl~ange 12 The Saint Vincent de Paul Society in church parishes is a Direct Service Agent, as are people who work in soup kitchens, who deliver food to shut-ins, or who tutor children who wouldn't otherwise ever learn to read. What is interesting about this model is its inde-pendence of the Structure. The Structure may refuse to meet the needs of such People, may be ignorant of those needs, or may even enact laws that outlaw such help. In this case, the Direct Service Agent provides direct service to the People in need, whether or not the Structure approves. Thus, CA--> People Structure Although the schema shows no arrow going from the People to the Structure, there is inevitably an effect produced on the Structure. Sometimes, the Structure is relieved and very grateful for the Direct Service CA, as was India (Structure) in the case of Mother Teresa (CA) and her service of the poorest and lowest classes (People). In other cases, as when those in church min-istry (CA) care for the needs of illegal immigrants (People), the CA may be acting in opposition to a civil ordinance (Structure). 5. The Ideological Agent of Change Most parents, teachers, counselors, and health pro-fessionals exemplify the Ideological Agents of change. Ideological Agents are shaping the minds and souls of the People in their care. Such CAs are working at a much more fundamental level than the Empowerment Agents are. Empowerment Agents typically organize and train a group of people to encounter the Structure on a specific issue, such as better treatment of gays in the community or requesting representation or a voice at a university's Board of Directors meetings. By contrast, the Ideological Agent is shaping the minds of people at a more general level. For example, Review for Religious religious teachers train students to think rationally and ethically, no matter what issue may arise in the future. Parents may instruct their children in proper social behavior--how to show gratitude, how to ask for things, how to play cooperatively. An English teacher may instruct students in how to communicate effectively through the written word and how to appreciate good writing. A history - - teacher may show students how to learn and grow wise from the study of history and the successes and failures of great men and women. A math teacher equips students for dealing with the financial and scientific dimensions of life. The counselor and health profes-sional help people deal with their basic emotional and physical issues so that they can be productive members of society. Financial advisors teach people how to man-age their money. Workshop leaders can teach people how to create the lives they desire. The work of the Ideological CA is, above all, foun-dational in nature. The CA is preparing persons (People) not only to live in society or in the church (Structures), but also to become intelligent and contributing members of such groups. In effect, the work of the Ideological CA is to prepare people to become effective agents of change themselves. Symbolically, CA--> People --> Structure In one sense, the effects the Ideological Agent has on the Structures of society or the church are mostly The effects the Ideological Agent has on the Structures of society or the church are mostly indirect, ~b~ut yet very powerful. 13 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Change 14 indirect, but yet very powerful. Persons who have not learned to think for themselves, or who have little or no control over their emotions or instincts are not likely to become the best agents of change in society. The role of the Ideological Agent is therefore crucial for the development of society and of the church. Also not to be forgotten among the Ideological Agents are editors of newspapers and newsletters and writers of books, professional articles, and how-to pam-phlets. Many people today have websites or blogs that provide inspiration, give helpful hints, or steer people in the right direction. 6. The Institutional Agent of Change The sixth and final model is called Institutional. In this approach, the Institutional Agent (CA) is part of the Structure. Thus, in the church (Structure), a priest or bishop who is a part of that Structure can be an Institutional Agent (CA) if he works to change the Structure so that it benefits the People by meeting their need(s). A truly Institutional CA is always con-sciously thinking of the People and how he or she can make things better for the them. Structure (CA) --> Structure --> People Institutional CAs would also include elected politi-cal representatives, school officials, academic adminis-trators, mayors, governors, civil officials, ranking law enforcement officers, members of boards of directors, business managers, hospital supervisors, and officers of professional organizations. More Than One Style Most people use more than one style of change agency in their life and work. Some get to use all six. In the life of Jesus, we can find examples of most styles. Review for Religious He was certainly an Advocate (1) for the People when he spoke to the scribes, Pharisees, and priests. He was an Ideological CA (5) in the ways he taught people to live their lives. He used Direct Service (4) in healing the sick. As an Empowerment Agent (2), he trained his apostles and disciples on how to go among the people to preach and heal. Since he was neither a scribe nor a priest, he could not use the Institutional model. Members of Alcoholics Anonymous combine Lifestyle Agency, Direct Service Agency, and Ideological Agency in their various ways of working. They are affecting many layers of social and religious Structures, since they (and others in related twelve-step groups) are turning individuals, who were burdens on society and their families, into productive, income-producing, tax-paying citizens, good parents, and upstanding church members. What Are Your Preferred Styles of Change Agency? Dr. Joseph Grau, a student of the writings of French Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, wrote his doctoral dissertation (as yet unpublished) on the ethics of Teilhard. In much of traditional Christian spirituality, Grau wrote, we are seen as independent persons, each seeking our own individual salvation by avoiding serious sin. In contrast, for Teilhard, as for St. Paul, all humanity (and the rest of creation) is living in the Cosmic Christ, who is daily growing, changing, and evolving toward his ultimate completion. In this perspective, Christians are not primarily isolated individuals, each independently seeking to save their own souls, but we are all inextricably interconnected in this great God Project. In St. Paul's words, we are the hands and feet, the eyes and ears of Christ on earth today, helping bring this Cosmic Christ to 70.1 2011 Savary * Agents of Change his fulfillment as destined by the Creator. Thus, we see the need for all to become effective change agents. Therefore, our spirituality today cannot be focused simply on avoiding sin. Rather we must be focused on consciously choosing actions that are designed to make a positive difference in the world. For Teilhard, we are all called to be Agents of Change in helping the Structures of our world become more just, kind, and caring for all those in need (People). We consciously choose to become Agents of Change so that Christ may be all in all. To accomplish this will require a lot of change and improvement in our world. What part will you play in the great God Project? Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Savary raises the question for our reflections: What are my preferred styles of change agency? Why are these my preferred styles? How is it helpful to reflect on the different models of change agency? Review for Religious JOHN H. ZUPEZ Christ-like Empathy in Those Who Govern One might address this topic through a study of "Paternal/Maternal Governance as an Ideal in Religious Communities." But that could get us into arguments over whether it is overstating the type of governance called for by our constitutions, or whether such governance is realistically possible. So I choose to focus on Jesus' way of dealing with people as an ideal and as inspiration for all followers of Christ, whether they be in a religious congregation or not. In religious congregations new challenges have arisen to experiencing empathy from those who gov-ern. Such empathy has suffered on several fronts in our times: the sophistication of relationships with those out-side our immediate circle of friends; the administrative burden of major superiors which puts more burden on the local superior; the diminishing pool of prospects for appointment as superior. You can probably think John H. Zupez SJ wrote for us on prayer in 1992 and 2009. He is currently pastor of Corpus Christi Church; 1005 N.E. 15th Street; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 73117. 17 70.1 2011 Zupez * Christ-like Empathy in those Who Govern of other reasons why relations between religious and their superiors become strained. Empathy in superiors is most important since their community has no choice but to relate to them. These reflections may also help in keeping relations among community members from becoming strained. Empathy Wikipedia on the Internet has a long article on empa-thy that begins with the following description, involv-ing various aspects. It seems suitable to our purposes. Empathy is a "feeling of concern for other people that creates a desire to help them, experiencing emotions that match another person's emotions, knowing what the other person is thinking or feeling." This is a good description of Jesus' approach to people. Even if his keen intelligence and sensitivity bordered on the mirac-ulous at times, his dealings show his desire to get inside the mind and heart of those he addressed, to experi-ence and know from their perspective before trying to help them, at times with reproof. It didn't rule out an ever-sharpening critique of some religious attitudes he wanted to correct. But one never gets the idea that he missed the point, that he judged too harshly or without sufficient empathy for what others thought and felt. His empathetic way of understanding how people thought and felt typically led to his sympathetic and caring way of ministering to them. Reflecting on ways Jesus exhib-ited empathy in the gospel accounts can help us follow him more closely in this regard. Not all instances are equally illustrative, but together they show Jesus' great sensitivity as a model for his followers. References will be to Mark's Gospel. Even if some of Jesus' sayings here originated in the early church, Review for Religious they reflect a consistent personality trait of Jesus that was well-remembered by his followers. In Mark's Gospel ¯ In Mark's Gospel only Jesus hears his vocation call at the Jordan, after which he immediately goes "on retreat" and doesn't begin his ministry until John's arrest (1:10- 14). If we attribute greater historicity to this account than to the other Gospels, it shows great sensi-tivity on the part of Jesus to the feelings of the Baptist and -- complete appreciation for John's ministry, even though this would contribute to the survival of the Baptist move-ment alongside Christianity. ¯ Jesus calls James and John to follow him, leaving their father Zebedee alone with the hired hands (1:20). Scholars point to this as one of many signs that Jesus saw the end-time as imminent, for otherwise he would have shown more sympathy for the father who was left without his sons' help. ¯ Many times in the Gospels Jesus attributes ill behavior not to the free choice of persons but to unclean spirits that have taken possession of the persons (1:25). Can we see this as a case of empathy, of Jesus' most merciful judgment? ¯ When his disciples disturb his morning prayer, he doesn't reproach them but agrees with them that they rightly understand his mission (1:35-38). Again and again Jesus attributes his cures to the patent faith he perceived in those to whom he ministered. 19 70.1 2011 Zupez ¯ Christ-like Empathy in those Who Govern ¯ Jesus healed the leper and fed crowds that were hungry and "without a shepherd," being "moved with pity" or compassion (1:41, 6:34, 8:2), knowing how they felt. He also began his ministry showing great sensitivity toward the temple priests, allowing them to profit from the effect of his cures (1:44). ¯ Again and again Jesus attributes his cures to the patent faith he perceived in those to whom he minis-tered (2:5), and he "perceived in his spirit" the lack of faith in those who "questioned in their hearts" (2:6, 8). ¯ Jesus' only mention of fasting in Mark's Gospel came in order to defend the Baptist who required his disciples to fast (2:18-20). ¯ Jesus gave an opportunity for Jewish leaders to defend their traditions, feeling "anger" when they "were silent" and refused to communicate with him (3:4, 5). ¯ When Mark says that Jesus appointed 12 apostles not just to proclaim his message but "to be with him," he shows the intimate community that would help them to see deeply into one another (3:14). ¯ Many of Jesus' parables were addressed to the Jewish leaders whom he so much wanted to bring on board his movement. He carefully fashions suasive argu-ments to move these intelligent adversaries, and only after rejection by them does he conclude that they have simply closed their hearts to God's Spirit (3:23-29). ¯ When his family thinks him "out of his mind," he gives an inclusive description of who his family is, knowing that they also "do the will of God" (3:21, 35). ¯ He shows himself a careful observer of nature and of human behavior, distinguishing between ways his word goes unheeded in people. The faith of some is rootless, in some it is destroyed by others, in some it is choked out by the cares of this world (4:15-19). Review for Religious ¯ He commends those who are translucent, who let the light within them shine out clearly for all to see: "nothing is hidden but will be disclosed" (4:21-22). ¯ He intuits the concern of his listeners over the smallness and hiddenness of the kingdom in his ministry and responds with the parables of hidden growth and of the mustard seed (4:26-32). ¯ Sympathy for Jairus leads Jesus to put up with the ridicule of the crowd, and when he had cured Jairus' daughter he mentions the hunger of the girl: "give her something to eat" (5:43). This last touch must have struck Mark as typical of Jesus' thoughtfulness of oth-ers, and so merited inclusion in his Gospel. ¯ When Jesus is rejected by the people of his own hometown, he makes up a good excuse for them, rather than blaming them; "Prophets are not without honor except in their hometown" (6:4). Then he anticipates how people would feel if his apostles went house-hop-ping, looking perhaps for a nicer place to stay. He advises them to stay with whoever first welcomes them (6:10). Jesus also perceives the fatigue of the work for his apostles and invites them to "come aside and rest awhile" (6:31). Then, respecting their close feeling for him, he "goes up the mountain to pray" only "after say-ing farewell to them" (6:46). ¯ When the Jewish leaders criticize his disciples for not washing their hands before eating, Jesus doesn't dis-miss their objection lightly but defends the disciples by quoting at length Jewish. traditions (7:5-15). He can also quickly correct his response to a person when he perceives a need for self-correction, as in his change from rejecting to commending the Syrophoenician woman (7:2 7-2 9). ¯ Jesus took the deaf man with a speech impediment "away from the crowd, in private," perhaps to compen- 70.1 2011 Zupez ¯ Christ-like Empathy in those Who Govern From all who wish to enter the kingdom, Jesus demands childlike curiosity and openness to new ideas sate for the crowd's ridicule of the man, becoming close and personal with him (7:33). ¯ Though his disciples fail to see, hear, or remem-ber in spite of the powers he had demonstrated, Jesus continues to work with them patiently, conclud-ing only with the gentle rebuke "Do you not yet understand?" (8:18,21). When admonished by Peter for predicting his suffering, Jesus' response focuses not on himself but on the good of Peter, who has set his mind "not on divine things but on human things" (8:33). Instead of further chiding Peter, he calls together "the crowd with his disciples" and explains the centrality of the cross in the Christian life (8:34-38). ¯ When Jesus sees that "a crowd came running together" he expedites his cure of the possessed young man, saving him further embarrassment (9:25). ¯ Jesus says that our dealings with others should not be from a sense of superiority ("whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all") but with the warmth that we show to a very loveable child (9:35-37). Jesus crowns this with a breadth of appreciation that extends to even our "giving a cup of water to drink" for which we will receive his reward (9:41). (Since Jesus did not refer to himself as Christ or Messiah, that seems here an addition of the early church.) Jesus' love for his dis-ciples doesn't stop short of "scaring the hell out of them" lest they stray from the right path (9:42-48). He goes on Review for Religious to encourage his disciples to vigorously pursue their own gifts while respecting others' differences (9:50). ¯ From all who wish to enter the kingdom, Jesus demands childlike curiosity and openness to new ideas, traits sorely lacking in the Jewish leaders who never gave him a fair hearing (10:15). ¯ Jesus' appreciation for all the goodness in others is revealed in his love for the young man who had kept the commandments from his y~)uth (10:20-21). He further points out that God can overlook our deficiencies and make up for them (10:27); God doesn't demand more than we can give. ¯ When James and John come forward with incred-ible hubris and pushiness, Jesus gently admonishes them that "you do not know what you are asking" (10:38). He then throws the focus away from James and John to advise the twelve together that Christian leadership is gauged enti!~qly in t.~rms of humble service (10:41-44). ¯ Jesus' empathy for people's differences, everyone believing in themselves, is reflected in what is arguably the most distinctive Christian virtue, ready forgiveness of others (11:25). ¯ In the question of giving tribute to Caesar, Jesus leaves off criticizing his adversaries for their flattery and feigned praise and keeps loving, keeps saying what could awaken them to their own hypocrisy and be their salva-tion, leaving them "amazed" (12:13-17). ¯ When a woman anoints Jesus with oil worth more than a year's wages, Jesus may have been taken aback by the extravagance but instead thinks of an even more extravagant way to compliment her: her deed will always be preached as a part of the Gospel (14:5, 9). ¯ When his closest disciples fall asleep during his agony in the garden, he doesn't blame them but thinks 70.1 2011 Zupez ¯ Christ-like Empathy in those grbo Govern of an excuse for them: "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak" (14:38). And so also throughout his Passion he shows forgiveness on all sides and attributes his fate rather to the fulfillment of Scripture (14:27, 49). Conclusion We see here an ideal to strive for even if we can never reach it. Superiors may have little wiggle room to change their decisions. But if they exercise author-ity in a spirit of open dialogue and sincere empathy, then those under them will respond more as if to Christ himself. February Snow Snow fresh fallen and still spilling subdues the trees out your windows and muffles the world. You watch it blow, all of winter in your eye. Suddenly a wingedflame pierces the scene and swoops to the feeder. Red as a tulip, it's Isaiah of the seasons prophesying the return of color to this bleached-out world. If not tomorrow, then soon. Soon. Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious JAMES MENKHAUS The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Path To Virtue The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius is a clas-sic work of Christian spirituality. Ignatius created the Exercises by reflecting on the expe-rience of God working in his life. In a memo-rable excerpt from his autobiography, Ignatius recalls, "God treated him [Ignatius] at this time just as aoschoolmaster treats a child he is teach-ing.''~ Ignatius's insight reflects his belief that God not only loves God's creatures, but slowly reveals God's will to them. Just as a child grows and slowly uncovers knowledge with the help of a teacher, so do human beings, with the help of God, slowly uncover God's call. Hoping to impart his insights, Ignatius created a series of meditations and reflections to help others discern their own call from God. In the final making the spiritual exercises James Menkhaus is currently involved in h~s doctoral work in Systematic Theology at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and teaches part-time at John Carroll Universi~ in Cleveland, Ohio. His address is 2965 Hampshire Road; University Heights, Oh{o 44118. 70.1 2011 Menkbaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. IKnatius years of his life, Ignatius crystallized his reflections by finalizing the Spiritual Exercises. While it is true that the Spiritual Exercises can help an individual discern God's call, another potential ben-efit from undergoing the retreat experience can be described by using the language of virtue ethics. Virtue ethics is an approach in normative ethics that emphasizes the moral significance of an agent's character. Instead of focusing on the question "what action should I take?" virtue ethics asks people to reflect on "what sort of per-son should I be?''2 This reflection, which then leads to action, is exemplified in the Ignatian retreat process. In this essay I will apply the language of virtue ethics to the experience of undergoing the Spiritual Exercises, examining the roles of narrative, friendship, presence, and renewed friendship. Using virtue ethics to describe the transformative effect of the Spiritual Exercises dem-onstrates that the experience is not only a tool for the discernment of God's will, but a method for the devel-opment of character. Narrative Foundation in Week One In the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises, using the exercitant's narrative as a starting point lays the founda-tion for the subsequent weeks. Ignatius instructs, "The First Point is the court-record of my sins. I will call to memory all the sins of my life, looking at them year by year or period by period.''3 Ignatius hopes the exerci-rant will take the time to reflect on how sinful a person can be and, in reflecting on one's past narrative, will acknowledge those times of turning away from God's offer of love. Exercitants are often offered the cl~ance for confession during this time as they uncover aspects of their narrative that they have either forgotten or tried to Review for Relig4ous deny to themselves. Ignadus' own experiences of sin and the way one can become ensnared by sinfulness, influ-enced his decision to give the chance to consider one's sins and bring them before God. The reflection on sin could be damaging if Ignatius did not ask the exercitant to concurrently recall God's forgiveness. Another meditation [23] is titled "The Principle and Foundation." The foun-dational principle for Ignatius is that God loves creation and never with-draws the offer of love. Ignatius hopes that during the First Week the exerci-tant will be able to balance these two concepts--the Creator's unlimited offer of love and one's own sinfulness. Both are important. Without God's love, the focus on one's sins could lead the exercitant to a sense of despair. Awareness of one's own sinfulness, however, is also key because God's love is a gift, not something earned. Because the Exercises rely so heavily on narrative, nar-rative is an important concept to unpack. Some virtue ethicists, such as Nancey Murphy and Stanley Hauerwas use narrative as a starting point for ethical reflection. "The acquired characteristics needed for participation in practices," writes Murphy, "are merely candidates for vir-tue until we see how they contribute to the whole human life from birth to death."4 To consider virtues divorced from the living experiences of human beings deprives them of life. The narrative, or human experience, gives an arena for virtue to be explored, developed, and fos- Without God's love, the focus on one's sins could lead the exercitant to a sense of despair. 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius tered. It is through human experience and development that virtues are acquired. Therefore, any discussion of virtue must begin by looking at narrative. In A Community of Character, Hauerwas relates a story from his own narrative about the time and effort his father put into making a gun for him as a gift. Instead of responding with love and thankfulness for the gift, Hauerwas replied that guns would one day be taken away from "you people." The love of the father in the formation of the gift was rejected by the son who thought it was more important to prove a point about social policy. The son sought to form his own narra-tive by rejecting his father's world, his father's narrative. Hauerwas reflects, "But in fact what I did was deeply dishonest, as it revealed a lack of self, the absence of a sustaining narrative sufficient to bind my past with my future.''5 Forming one's own narrative is about respect-ing the tradition that comes before, while taking the responsibility of creating the future. Hauerwas's personal example fits very well with the First Week of the Exercises. The relationship of children and parents often involves struggle, and the revelation that love was not returned from child to parent, or par-ent to child, is a common difficulty. Someone facing a narrative like Hauerwas's would likely be drawn to focus on the guilt of rejecting the offer of love from father to son. Such guilt, if carried through life without being faced and worked through, could have damaging effects on a person's identity. More often than one might think, these feelings are buried deep within, and only through taking time in prayer and reflection can one realize that they have played a formative role in one's development. Once one uncovers these feelings, the guide would likely suggest a meditation or prayer that focuses on Revie~v for Religious forgiveness--for example, the story of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32). In this parable Jesus tells of a son who squandered all that the father had given him. When the son was at his lowest point, he thought the father might take him on as hired hand. Indeed, as the son returned to the father, "While he was still a long way off, his father caught . sight of him, and was filled with compas-sion. He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him" (Lk 15:20). It is often pointed out that the father saw him from a long way off, indi-cating that he had been watching for his son, hoping that he would return. This parable encapsulates the duality of the First Week because it involves the sinful son, or human being, and the loving and forgiving father, or God. Again, it is nar-rative that communicates the key elements. In this case, narrative in the form of story symbolizes God's love for and willingness to forgive humanity. The First Week experience is impossible without one's reflection on one's own narrative and experience. Because of the individuality and uniqueness of each exercitant's experience, it is the personal narrative that sets the stage for the rest of the retreat. The subsequent Weeks are also heavily dependent upon narrative, but in a different context. The Weeks that follow advance through the narrative of Jesus' life as the exercitant is asked to enter into that life at different stages of Christ's mission. It is through entering into Christ's narrative The First Week experience is impossible without one ,s reflection on one's own narrative and experience. 29 70.1 2011 Menkhaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius that the virtues of friendship and presence can be devel-oped in the exercitant. Narrative is, in many ways, foun-dational to the Spiritual Exercises. Developing Friendship in Week Two Once exercitants come to terms with their own sin-fulness in the light of God's offer of love, at least to some extent, the retreat moves to Week Two. During the Second Week, the focus shifts to meditations on the life of Christ up to the passion. Exercitants read passages from the Bible and place themselves into the scenes. Ignatius hoped that the experience of allowing the Spirit to move the narrative forward would help communicate God's will to the individual. For example, an exercitant who continually feels drawn to healing others during these meditations might consider if God is calling to some sort of healing vocation or work in medicine. The exercitant who is constantly drawn to Christ the teacher might reflect more deeply if there is a call to a profes-sion in education. No matter what vocation one is called to, however, the experience of being with Christ during this time will likely lead to a cultivation of the virtue of friendship. Through the narrative reflection on Christ's life, friendship is both developed with Christ and learned as a virtue to cultivate in other relationships. Ignatius describes the grace to be prayed for in the Second Week: "Here it will be to ask for an interior knowledge of our Lord, who became human for me, that I may love him more intensely and follow him more closely.''6 In order to foster this interior knowledge and love, Ignatius begins the gospel contemplations with scenes from the nativity. The desire to follow Christ should begin at the start of his humanity. Ronald Modras elaborates the method: "Ignatius asks retreatants to con- Review for Religious template ("look at") the birth of Christ, using all their senses. One is to imagine the road, feel the wind, listen in on the conversation between Mary and Joseph, gaze at the newborn infant--all activities intended to arouse the affections.''7 The use of all the senses during the meditation can lead the exercitant to be truly moved by the experience. It is during the early stages of Week Two that the virtue of friendship begins to be explored in the narrative formed between the exercitant and Christ. Hauerwas and Charles Pinches in Christians among the Virtues provide key insights about friendship as a virtue. They write, "We learn virtue, which is necessary for happiness, not alone but in communities of friends.''8 No one would ever desire to live without friends, and these friendships help form communities. Later they explain, agreeing with Aristotle, "It is like watching ourselves, only bet-ter, for we see the activity that is ours--both the friends' and our own--all the more clearly.''9 Those people we surround ourselves with are those whose actions mirror our own. Likewise, when our friends do virtuous acts, it encourages us to behave similarly. Friendship is valuable for helping people learn virtue. Hauerwas and Pinches also state that true friendship is not simply an unachievable ideal. "Rather, friend-ship itself is an activity by which we acquire the kind of steadfastness necessary for our being true friends. True friendship is . . . a growing relation which, as it ¯ increases, makes possible our becoming virtuous in a manner that transforms ourselves and our friendship."1° A good friendship helps a. person learn what it means to be a good friend because, friendship grows through shared experience. Transformation and change are nec-essary because friendship never remains static. Friends 31 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius One does not become a follower of Christ without effort and prayer and an honest attempt to follow him. learn virtue together as both realize what it means to have a good friendship. It is certainly possible to have a bad or dishonest friendship, but the insights we are offering on growth of virtue in friendship assume that both friends are trying in good faith to respect and love each other. The insights of Hauerwas and Pinches on friendship help unpack how the Second Week can lead to a deepen-ing desire to follow Christ. Learning through these medi-ations to love and follow Christ and to become friends with the human Jesus should lead us to behave more like our new friend. As we see Christ do miracles of heal-ing, accepting the outcast, and giving life to the hope-less, we are inspired, as his friends, to do the same. As Hauerwas . and Pinches pointed out, the virtuous actions of our friends inspire us to behave accordingly. The insight that friendship is developed through a process of transformation is impor-tant as well. One does not become a follower of Christ without effort and prayer and an honest attempt to fol-low him. An exercitant might be asked to contemplate the story of the paralytic (Lk 5:17-26), which highlights the virtue of friendship from a variety of angles. The primary focus of this story is that Jesus tells a man to get up and walk and that his sins are forgiven. The Pharisees are enraged that Jesus thinks he can tell a man Review for Religio~ts his sins are forgiven because, for them, God alone could forgive sins. However, a subplot to the story involves the friendship of the men who brought the paralytic to Jesus: "But not finding a way to bring him. in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on the stretcher through the tiles into the middle in front of Jesus"(5:19). Because the group thought that Jesus might be able to help their friend, they did every-thing they could to get him to Jesus. When their first attempt failed, they turned to extraordinary means to accomplish their' goal--going so far as to lower their friend through the root~ The first example of friendship is the desire of the friends to get the paralytic to Jesus, even when their first attempt failed. The friends were willing to take extraor-dinary measures to help someone they loved. The second example is Jesus' willingness to heal the paralytic. Jesus' action invites the exercitant to imitate that healing by healing others. The exercitant could contemplate that as Jesus heals those he cares for, in what way can he/she heal others? As the exercitant becomes friends with Jesus, Jesus' actions should be mirrored in the exercitant. The virtuous actions of one's friends should encourage a rep-lication of those actions beyond the retreat experience. Another vital aspect of the Second Week, the elec-tion, occurs as the Week comes to a close, when the exercitant has come to be Christ's friend and must decide to follow him. It would be rar~ for a non-Christian to undergo the Exercises, so Ignatius did not see this as a matter of full conversion from one religion to another. Indeed, many people, during the time of the election, reaffirm what they held before they began the retreat. However, for some, the experience of coming to know Christ could lead to a different sort of election, perhaps 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius 34 the desire to enter religious life or to change one's life-style to include more time for prayer, works of mercy, or being with one's loved ones. It is important to consider the election in light of virtue because the friendship that has begun to grow reaches its first point of verification. If it is not a true friendship, the exercitant will not choose to follow Christ. A much greater challenge awaits in the Third Week, but for now the exercitant must decide if the meditations from infancy throughout the life of Christ have cultivated a sense of love and a knowledge of the human Jesus. Jesuit Howard Gray reflects, "The elec-tion that comes at the climax of the Second Week is then less a decision than a surrender to the specific and intimate ways the Spirit of Christ leads me through my humanity to union with his humanity.''11 This union that Gray describes is one aspect of a friendship. Friends come together to form a union of care and respect for each other, a union in which each challenges and sup-ports the other. This support is put to the test through the suffering of Christ during the Third Week. Suffering Presence in Week Three The meditations of the Third Week begin with Christ's sending of two disciples from Bethany to Jerusalem to prepare for the last supper; they conclude with the death of Jesus. While feelings of sadness are often associated with the exercitant's experience, the third week is not a recapitulation of the First Week's turmoil. The desolation experienced in reflecting on the sufferings of Christ is different from the desolation caused by reflecting on one's own sins. The Exercises are developmental; the experiences of the weeks build upon each other. Michael Ivens, a scholar of the Review for Religious Spiritual Exercises, explains, "Thus the exercitant comes to pray the Passion in the Third Week having in the First Week contemplated the cross as a sign of both sin and mercy.''~2 A consideration of the virtues in the Exercises reveals a similar pattern because the virtues are also developmental. The friendship developed in Week Two will now be put to the test and, if successful, strengthened through the exercitant's presence with the suffering Christ. Ignatius writes that the grace of the Third Week to pray for is "heartfelt sorrow and confusion, because the Lord is going to his Passion for my sins.''13 Ignatius instructs the exercitant to become aware of the betrayal, brutality, and abandonment that Christ undergoes and, during meditations on these, to pray for the grace to suffer with Christ during his ordeal--the betrayal when Judas handed Christ over to be arrested, the brutality Christ underwent through the beatings and the cruci-fixion, and the abandonment he felt when his disciples fled and even Peter denied that he knew Christ. These three related elements, betrayal, brutality, and abandon-ment, all exemplify the experiences of Christ during the passion and are a powerful reminder for the exercitant of all that Christ underwent for humanity. In Week Two the exercitant was instructed simply to enter the scene, but Week Three calls for prayer to experience Christ's suffering. This does not mean the exercitant should seek pain for trivial purposes, such as purposely making daily life harder and deceiving oneself into thinking it is for Christ. Rather, it means being willing to put Christ first. One should be willing to leave behind whatever keeps one from putting Christ first. Jesuit Peter Fennessy explains, "The reality of the situation is that compassion is a deep love of Christ that 70.1 2011 Menkhaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius 36 unites us [to Christ] in his suffering and in doing so brings us to renounce our own selves.''14 It is certainly possible that God could call one to physical suffering, such as serving the poor in a dangerous location or put-ting one's life at risk. However, this is not the case for all exercitants. For most, the suffering that Ignatius chal-lenges them to undergo is to detach themselves from attachments that disorder their lives. On choosing which disorder to remove, Fennessy states, "We will not choose too much below our ability, since that would be insin-cere; nor too much beyond our ability since that would invite, even intend, failure.''s However, the exercitant must be willing to die to any inordinate desires that pre-vent union with Christ. This detachment, in many cases, will involve an aspect of suffering. Another way of understanding the grace of the Third Week is through the virtue of presence. Hauerwas's Suffering Presence offers insights about what it means to be present to another's suffering and how this presence can have an impact. He again uses narrative to describe a time when he was a suffering presence to his friend Bob. Hauerwas and Bob spent a lot of time together as they grew up and were very close friends. One morning he went to see Bob and found him weeping uncontrol-lably. Bob's mother had committed suicide earlier that morning. He embraced Bob, and they spent the rest of the day together. He describes that time: "We never talked about his mother or what had happened. We did what we always did. We talked girls, football, cars, mov-ies, and anything else that was inconsequential enough to distract our attention from this horrible event . All I could do was be present.''16 The transformation of character that occurs by undergoing the Third Week of the Exercises is the cre- Review for Religious ation of a person who understands what it means to be present to the suffering, dying, and abandoned people in society. Just as exercitants learn to be present with the befriended Christ, so should they be transformed into a greater capacity of being present with their friends. However, this presence should be extended to others, beyond their friends, just as Christ taught. The seeds planted in Week Two, when one meditates on how Christ ate with sinners and tax collectors and approached those in society that were considered out-casts, continue to grow in Week Three. Often those who suffer the most in society are not those who are friends with the exercitant, but those who have no friends at all. The poor and oppressed are the ones that Christ ministered to and who are often the examples of suffering in society. These are the people who need the presence that Hauerwas (and Christ) describe. Joy and New Friendship in Week Four If the Gospel ended with Christ's death, the Christian faith would be empty. Similarly, if the Exercises ended with Week Three, there would be no hope to move the exercitant beyond the suffering of Christ. However, the resurrection accounts in the Gospel and Week Four of the Exercises provide hope. Ignatius writes, "Consider how the divinity, which hid itself during the Passion, now appears and manifests itself so miraculously in this holy Resurrection, through its true and most holy effects.''17 The Fourth Week meditations revolve around how the divinity manifests itself during the appearance narratives in the Gospel, and these narratives lead to a glimpse of understanding what it means to act as the divine. Appearance stories that the exercitant can be asked to reflect upon are those of the disciples on the road to 70.1 2011 Menkhaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Emmaus (Lk 24:13-35) and of Jesus on the shore (Jn 21:1-14). In each case, Jesus appears to the disciples who were lost and afraid and who feared that their hope in Jesus had been misplaced. When he appears to his friends on the road to Emmaus, even though they did not recognize him at first, he walked with them. He then broke bread with them and opened the scriptures. Reflecting after he disappeared from their sight, the dis-ciples asked each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us when he spoke to us on the way and opened the scriptures to us?" (Lk 24:32). In John's account, Jesus also takes time to eat with the disciples as they share a meal on the shore. In both accounts, Jesus appears to console his suffering friends, offering his own example of being a suffering presence. These appearances lead to a new friendship between the disciples and the risen Lord, just as the Fourth Week meditations lead to a new friendship between the exercitant and Christ. The same kind of new friendship emerged after Hauerwas spent time with Bob. Once one has been there for the other in a time of extreme trial, the friendship is never the same. In some cases it may be awkward or dif-ficult, but it is never unchanged. For Christ and the disci-ples, however, the friendship was not awkward, but led the disciples to be willing to give their lives to spread Christ's message. Jesus instructs them to "Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:16). It is because of their belief in Christ, developed by their friend-ship with him and tested through his passion, that the dis-ciples take up this task of proclamation. What is hoped for is that the exercitant, while medi-tating on the resurrection at the end of the retreat, will experience joy. Gray explain~ that joy for Ignatius is not simply being happy, but is a "participation in the joy Review for Religious of the risen Christ. Ignatian joy is the psycho-religious energy that desires to bring others happiness, harmony of heart, insight, peace, reconciliation . -18 This joy drives the exercitant to want to be joy in the lives of others after the retreat. It is the joy experienced by the disciples when they realized that Christ had risen and their hopes had not been misplaced. Servais Pinckaers describes joy from the perspec-tive of virtue ethics in Morality: The Catholic View. He writes, "Joy is lasting, like the excellence, the virtues, that engender it. Joy is communicable; it grows by being shared and repays sacrifices freely embraced . Joy belongs to the purity and generosity of love.''19 For Pinckaers, joy helps order pleasure so pleasure does not take control of one's life. Joy lies in the inner depths of our being and is experienced when we align ourselves with the love of God. Joy cannot be separated from truth and the struggle towards the good. Pinckaers believes that joy unites the virtues which are "like the arteries that carry strength and disperse joy through the entire organism of the moral life.''z° Pinckaers's view of joy as a culmination of the virtues connects well with Gray's assertion that the experience of Ignatian joy is the culmination of the Spiritual Exercises. Living the Virtues in the World The new friendship between Christ and the exerci-tant is formed by the transformation of being a suffer-ing presence. But the fruit from the retreat must keep growing after the retreat. The exercitant's friendship with the risen Christ should one move to action. Just as virtue ethics begins with the agent but leads to action, so should the Spiritual Exercises. The movement into the world, of the ideals enshrined in the virtues is one way 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius A virtue ethics pei'spective of the Exercises calls one to apply these virtues in the future. 4O to counteract claims that the Exercises are an individual experience. Without the drive to live out these newly acquired virtues and change the world, transformation is never complete. Just as Ignatius would have said the exercitant should apply what is learned about God's will for the individual, a virtue ethics perspective of the Exercises calls one to apply these virtues in the future. Another way to describe the experience of undergoing the Exercises is as moral formation or moral development that pushes one to action. Pinckaers describes this forma-tion as "the interior revolution that the grace of Christ works within us. It teaches us to employ institutions and exercise authority in a spirit of service . . . imitating the service of Christ.''2' Moral formation can develop or . -- refine the virtues of friendship or pres-ence, and once these begin to grow, they are seen to imply a call to action, an emulation of Christ. They make one sen- - -' sitive to those who have no friends and need friendship or those who have no comforter and need presence. Pinckaers describes this movement, writing, "Just as we appreciate health bet-ter when we are sick, so too we become sensitive to our inclinafon to the good when we are confronted with evil and suffering.''22 In this way, the Exercises help form a more moral individual who is called to action. The kinds of action that an exercitant should engage in are, simply put, virtuous actions. By emulating the actions that Christ carried out both before his death and during the appearance narratives, one can become Review for Religious a more virtuous person. Albert Nolan, in Jesus Before Christianity, challenges Christians to look to Christ to see how God wants human beings to act: We have seen what Jesus is like. If we now wish to treat him as our God, we would have to conclude that our God does not want to be served by us, but wants to serve us; God does not want to be given the highest possible rank in society, but wants to take the lowest place and to be without any rank and sta-tus; God does not want to be feared and obeyed, but wants to be recognized in the sufferings of the poor and the weak.23 Nolan challenges followers of Christ to reflect on who Jesus was during his lifetime. Those who have undergone the Spiritual Exercises have encountered Christ through meditation and contemplation. The encountered Christ has likely been one who fits Nolan's description. A Jesus who wants to serve, who takes the lowest place in society, and who wants to be recognized in the sufferings of the poor is the Jesus who has been encoun-tered in prayer. If Nolan is correct, Jesus has given humanity a glimpse into how God wants creatures to live, and the Spiritual Exercises help us come to this awareness as we move through the retreat. The Spiritual Exercises are a tool for the discern-ment of God's will, but the retreat is also an experience that can form a more virtuous person. By examining one's narrative during the First Week, areas of sinful-ness and growth can be discerned in light of God's love. The Second Week helps the exercitant know what it means to be a friend and to learn from Christ how to emulate his actions. The Third Week tests the virtue of presence, challenging people to be present to those in need, especially those who have no one else. Finally, 41 70.1 2011 Menkbaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius the Fourth Week teaches the joy associated with the resurrection and a new friendship tested by suffering. The exercitant who takes to heart the experience of the Spiritual Exercises should leave the retreat a more virtu-ous person, seeking to emulate the actions of Christ in a world broken by sin and needing redemption. Notes ' Ignatius of Loyola, "The Autobiography," in Ignatius of Loyola: The Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works, ed. George E. Ganss SJ (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), p. 79. z Rosalind Hursthouse, On Virtue Ethics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), p. 17. 3 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [56]. 4 Nancey Murphy, "Using MacIntyre's Method in Christian Ethics," in Virtue and Practices in the Christian Tradition, ed. Nancey Murphy, Brad J. Kallenberg, and Mark Thiessen Nation (Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 2003), p. 41. ~ Hauerwas, A Community of Character, p. 146. 6 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [104]. 7 Ronald Modras, Ignatian Humanism (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), p. 47. 8 Stanley Hauerwas and Charles Pinches, Christians among the Virtues (Notre Dame: University of Norte Dame Press, 1997), p. 33. 9 Hauerwas and Pinches, Christians among the Virtues, p. 33. 10 Hauerwas and Pinches, Christians among the Virtues, p. 38. 11 Howard Gray SJ, "Joy and Friendship in the Fourth Week," The Way Supplement: Resurrection and Beyon& The Fourth Week 99 (2000): p. 18. ~2 Michael Ivens SJ, Understanding the Spiritual Exercises (Trowbridge: Cromwell Press, 1998), p. 147. '3 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [I 93]. 14 Peter Fennessy SJ, "Praying the Passion: The Dynamics of Dying with Christ," A New Introduction to the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. John E. Dister SJ (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 77. is Fennessy, "Praying the Passion," p. 83. 16 Stanley Hauerwas, Suffering Presence (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986), p. 64. Review for Religious 17 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [223]. is Gray, "Joy and Friendship," p. 20. ,9 Servais Pinckaers OP, Morality: The Catholic View (South Bend, Indiana: St. Augustine's Press, 2001), p. 78. 20 Pinckaers, Morality: The Catholic View, p. 80. 2, Pinckaers, Morality: The Catholic View, p. 94. 22 Pinckaers, Morality: The Catholic View, 102. 23 Albert Nolan, Jesus Before Christianity (New York: Orbis Books, 1976), p. 167. Tremblement de Terre (Earthquake) Sun, wind blizzards, Raging waters, cyclones Have pommelled Me and my house, Struck sideways as if it were __ at eye-level. But on the day The Earth beneath my feet Failed me Nor I nor anyone could save me, Only God __ That day guaran teed When my time comes I shall recognize The approach of death When things fall apart. Mary Alban CSJ 43 70.1 2011 MYREE HARRIS Reflecting on Readiness To Make the Spiritual Exercises 44 The concept of readiness for developmental change is an idea that has interested me for many years. From 1981 to 1989 I worked in Staff and Executive Development at the Catholic Education Office, Sydney. Back then, the Sydney Archdiocese and the Catholic Education Office covered the whole of Sydney, with a population of around four million. Our team designed and ran a diverse range of adult education courses for school leaders, with an emphasis on management skills and small group participation. We were also called in to do long-term organizational development in schools. Each program began with a full day collaborative prob-lem identification process followed by facilitation of an elected staff group to work on the action plan. We met with these groups weekly for a period of years. Readiness for Developmental Change In the course of these activities, we encountered individuals and school groups who were not ready for Myree Harris RSJ may be addressed at Gethsemane Community; 3 Oxford Street; Petersham NSW, 2049; Australia. Revie~ for Religious such a process. We started to read literature on the topic1 and to draw up our own criteria for readiness or unreadiness for participation in the process. In the case of those who arrived late for sessions or who lacked motivation, interest, or willingness to participate, there was often one obvious reason. They did not want to be there. They had been sent by a school principal who thought it might do them good or "fix them up." We contacted principals and asked them not to send unwill-ing participants, as it spoiled the experience for those who were motivated. Anytime we identified disgrunded participants, we offered them the opportunity to have the day off, assuring them that we would not report them to the school authorities. Readiness for Organizational Change In the case of schools that asked us to come in and work with them, we asked a few questions. First, whose idea was it to call us in? If it were just the principal's bright idea, the process would go nowhere. Second, was the school going through a lot of growth or change at that time, or, conversely, was it dying? Neither state would foster developmental change. The first step in the problem identification process was an anonymous strengths/weaknesses survey. Any downright nastiness or personal attacks in the survey were an alarm signal. We would report back on the survey to the staff, stating we would not allow personal attacks made on leaders who had no chance to respond. We undertook to carry out the day's problem-identification process, but warned that, in some cases, it might be counterproductive to go further. In one school, as the survey results were being shown, I noticed the staff reading, crocheting, doing crossword puzzles, yawning, and generally looking unin- 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises terested. I alerted my colleague, who was also finding in the survey results an abdication of responsibility for discipline on the part of the staff and a blaming of the senior executive. We reflected back our perception of their lack of interest and closed the proceedings. Readiness for the Spiritual Exercises: Twentiethth Annotation In 2003, I was at a retreat center in Canada, participat-ing in Internship training to direct the Spiritual Exercises. One of our tasks was to do a major study or project. I decided to follow up on my long interest in readi-ness. 46 Methodology: A. Indicators of Readiness A set of twelve questions (see Appendix) was devel-oped and given to staff members with the request that they agree to a thirty- to sixty-minute audio taped inter-view. Interviews were carried out and the tapes tran-scribed under the question headings. The responses showed some consensus about indica-tors of readiness. These have been grouped under gen-eral headings: 1. Personal qualities: ¯ a moderately strong sense of self and ego strength ¯ a basic personal stability and mental/emotional health ¯ a lot of basic healing already done ¯ not too tired ¯ able to reflect on and to articulate inner experience ¯ a capacity to be in silence and solitude Review for Religious 2. Desire: ¯ openness and willingness and generosity ¯ a sense of quiet that can be developed and a contemplative attitude ¯ a habit of prayer with a desire to go deeper ¯ a degree of spiritual freedom ¯ a desire to experience the Exercises ¯ a ministerial goal 3. ~ln adequate theological base: ¯ grounding in the Faith ¯ belief in the divinity and humanity of Christ ¯ an image of a loving God ¯ the ability to ask for a grace 4. Experience and skills: ¯ experience of at least one eight-day, silent, individually directed retreat using Ignatian methodology ¯ experience of ongoing spiritual direction ¯ experience in using imagination in prayer, in reflecting on the experience of prayer, and the capacity to articulate that experience to a director ¯ capacity to pray for forty-five to sixty minutes at a time B. Indicators of Lack of Readiness 1. Personal qualities: ¯ major psychological issues ¯ insufficient ego strength to tolerate desolation ¯ major issues that need healing ¯ blockage by overwhelming effects from trauma ¯ wrong timing ¯ inability to tolerate silence and solitude 2. Lack of desire: ¯ lack of a desire to be open to God 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises 48 ¯ sent by a bishop or major superior ¯ coming as part of a group with no personal decision to make the Exercises ¯ coming as part of a sabbatical, but mainly wanting a rest or a nice prayer time ¯ no outward apostolic focus 3. Inappropriate or unhelpful theological base: ¯ an image of God as distant, disinterested, and punitive ¯ lack of a belief in the divinity of Christ ¯ problems with the church that cannot be dealt with 4. Lack of experience and skills: ¯ no capacity to pray for any length of time or to articulate experience ¯ no experience of an eight-day directed retreat ¯ no experience of using the Ignatian "tools" such as the use of imagination in prayer or repetition ¯ no awareness of interior movements, of how to do a review of prayer, or of how to articulate the experience of prayer Eliciting Our Better Practices 1. How effective are the disposition days in assisting readi-ness? (The Preparation days involve directed prayer on themes such as one's faith history. They also introduce Ignatian "tools" such as gospel contemplation, review of prayer, repetition, use of the examen.) (Each bullet point indicates an individual response.) ¯ In general, they provide enough time for a person to be ready to begin the Exercises. Segments on graced and unredeemed history lay the ground for the First Week. Seeds are sown. If a person "bites" in this early material, it is a good indicator that the individual will "bite" all the way Review for Religious through. It helps the director get a sense of who the per-son is, what is really drawing the retreatant. It helps people get in touch with their own history. They may come to see where the blockages are, the need for healing. Sometimes people get in touch with that material and find out there is a lot more stuff than they had realized. If the director does a lot of faithful listening, the desire surfaces. ¯ Coming to the end of the disposition days, the question is "Where is the focus? Is the person ready for the First Week?" ¯ What you are testing for in the disposition days is willingness versus willfulness. A skilled director can spot the generosity and can fan those flames, can keep the person in that gener-osity. ¯ You don't pre-pare people for the Exercises, God does. God gives the desire. ¯ A Very, very poor self image might indicate it could be harmful to go into the Exercises. Some directors will hold a person back for a few days. Some will go forward because they know it is not going to hurt the person. If it will be hurtful, you don't go forward. If I'm not quite sure, I would give the Exercises the benefit of the doubt. 2. What is the place of the Exercises in healing mode? (The healing mode refers to an adaptation to assist people who are dealing with the effects of trauma or deep hurt.) Ignatius does not have any healing texts in his selection of gospel contemplations. In fact, he does not seem interested in healing, but rather in evangelical What you are testing for in the disposition days is willingness versus willfulness. 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises witness. However, often people present or come to the Exercises for healing. ¯ If healing is an issue, no amount of time may be sufficient. There may be sexual abuse or some very painful experience. The initial focus needs to be on the love of God. ¯ Healing mode may start with the graced his-tory and move all the way through the Exercises. Even though it is not in the literature, I would maintain that this approach still gives an experience of the Exercises. The graces received are roughly the same. You are just coming to the experience in a very different way.I don't know how universal an acceptance this would have. ¯ In healing mode, the First Week has the emphasis on having been sinned against, rather than sinning. The Second Week becomes growing up with Jesus, or the Inner Child healing of memories with Jesus, as Jesus grows up. It doesn't take away from the content but just shifts it so that healing can take place. It is still a matter of getting to know Jesus. The Exercises are more directed towards the person than towards discipleship, because sometimes it is too soon to focus on disciple-ship. Sometimes the two things can go on together, and sometimes the biggest emphasis is on healing. The meditations of the Second Week are geared to deci-sion- making. They don't fit here, but as soon as I hear the content of decision-making being spoken, I move to that, giving the meditations or appropriate scripture. 3. What if the person were still "flooded" by recent or past trauma? (In such cases, the person may not be able to focus on any other issue.) ¯ One avenue is to take the person out of the Exercises and work around the traumas, moving into the healing mode. Perhaps go through all the Weeks in Review for Religious this mode. The trauma becomes the focus of the graces of the Weeks. Usually, those who are flooded by trauma are reacting to more than the recent trauma. The recent event has just dragged up all kinds of other traumas in the person's history. The First Week exercises for healing (in the healing mode) could be very helpful for such a person. Rather than a block to the Exercises, the trauma could be the source of a major grace. ¯ It may indicate they should not go on with the Exercises but deal with the issue, and the thirty-day process may not be the place for that. What I would listen for is whether the hurt is purely psychological or if it can be brought to prayer. Tremendous healing can take place through the Exercises. ¯ I directed a person over five consecutive years for eight-day retreats, and it was all healing. I wouldn't allow her to make the Exercises. When she did eventu-ally make them, from day one the orientation was apos-tolic. ¯ This kind of situation is coming up more and more. ¯ Hopefully you can make referrals for when they go home. The grace of the retreat may be to realize how deeply they need psychological assistance. ¯ The director has to make a judgment as to whether the person is stable enough to stay and if there is enough psychic strength to take the next step. Then the director has to ask, "Am I the best director for this person?" It's up to the director to get as much help as possible from the team in terms of the healing of memories prayer, Inner Child work, continuing to walk with the person, following God's lead, and doing what is necessary. Then, the question is whether the retreatant is willing and able to do this. The team has to find a 51 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises A person could pray for thirty days, without actually doing the Exercises: Y2 way to ensure that the person is with a director who can work with this issue. 4. What ira person were not yet ready for the Exercises? ¯ When one person came, we already felt she might not be ready and that she was not staying for the appropriate days. Disposition days were fine. After that, the material used was fairly typi-cal, but we didn't pretend it was the Exercises. I just fol-lowed where she was. I used some Exercises material, went into the life of Christ, and just went wherever I felt the Lord was calling her. ¯ A person could pray for thirty days, without actu-ally doing the Exercises. There would be enough healing and growth that it would be very helpful. ¯ Most people who get through the screening pro-cess would be candidates for praying through the prayer pattern of the Exercises, whether or not they are capable of making the full Exercises from the decision-making mode. Y. What if there is resistance to the process of the Exercises? (For example, there may be reluctance or refusal to try different forms of prayer or particular themes, to main-tain timed prayer periods, or to do a review.) ¯ With someone who hates process, I would tackle it head on: "Are you willing to go along with it, for now?" The same for someone who hates structured prayer periods: "The Exercises are structured. Face the resistance." "It's not forever; it's just for now. Take it to Review for Religious the Lord." The key is intentionality. Are they willing to make the Exercises as they are? ¯ For the retreatant it can raise the issue "How do I respond in the face of something that doesn't fit me perfectly or that I might not like?" Then it becomes retreat material. Once knowledge of the reluctance comes to awareness, God works in it. It can burrow away underneath until it comes to consciousness. Once it's out, God deals with it. ¯ If you have a resistance in which the person wants something to happen in the Exercises that isn't happening and the person resists the pattern of the Exercises, then you have to bring that out clearly and say "What do you suggest you do next?" You could also lay out your options, saying "I don't think, given the way this pattern is devel-oping, that I am the right person to be directing you, or that this is the right place." It's not just their choice, it is also your choice. ¯ Using the imagination can provoke resistance, or it may mean the person is praying in another mode. If there is resisting, I let it continue until the person says "This isn't working, and I have to do something differ-ent." So I say, "Well, what would you like to do?" ¯ There is a huge scope about how to pray that is permissible in the Exercises. The director needs to be flexible and to understand that, for Ignatius, it isn't the Exercises as such, but it is encountering God that is important. That's why the questions are "Where's the consolation? Where's the desolation?" If there is reluc-tance to talk about one's inner life at that level, that's one issue. If there is a whole different sign language, making it difficult to draw out what is happening in prayer, that's a problem of communication, not resis-tance. If you can enter into that sign language, then the 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises Sometimes the grace can be given, but not opened for years. process works. If you can't, it's fairly clear there isn't a path of communication and you can't direct. ¯ For me, a good way to handle resistance, if it is in the long retreat, is to let it develop to the point where retreatants have to deal with it, rather than trying to force them to do what they don't want to do. All you can do is just be with a person as the resis-tance develops. It is important for the director to be comfortable with this and not try to truncate the pro-cess, because God is using that situation in some way. That can be hard on the director. That's why you need a team and supervi-sion. You need to be enabled just to allow the resistance to develop. ¯ Someone says that she is uncomfortable with Ignatian spirituality, that her background is Franciscan. It's true that your background affects you, but it doesn't determine you. The Exercises are Ignatian. There are huge Franciscan elements in Ignatian spirituality: the sense of witness, the sense of joy, the sense of poverty. If generosity is there, the Exercises will work. ¯ Coming to an Ignatian retreat and then resisting the process because you prefer a different spirituality is like going to a Chinese restaurant and ordering steak. 6. Is it better for a person to experience the Exercises, even in a limited way, than not to experience them at all? ¯ Sometimes the grace can be given, but not opened for years. ¯ If a person has not been able to enter into the Review for Religious experience and is not able to absorb it, the whole thing could be destructive. ¯ It depends on the person. A person may have an opportunity now to do a thirty-day retreat but may not have that opportunity later, when she is really ready to do the Exercises. ¯ It can be better for a person to make a 30-day retreat, as contrasted to the Exercises, than not to. One person came to the retreat to make a decision but was unable to do so. At the end she realized she needed to have psychological counseling. ¯ To a person who experienced the Exercises in the healing mode, it could be suggested that at some later time in life it might be worth doing them again from a new perspective and that it could be a different experience. ¯ Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? 7. Are the current application and referee forms effective in screening out people who are not ready for the Exercises? ¯ People lie on the application forms or leave things out. Some people do better in writing their stories; oth-ers can be more open in answering the questions. The question may be whether or not the story is complete. It's what's not there that we can do nothing about. It may not be deliberate. It may be an oversight that becomes critical and makes a huge difference that may not be realized by the person. ¯ I have found that people use codes. One code is that if you think the applicant is a problem, at the end of the reference you put "And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call me.' ¯ If we get any indication at all that the person is being sent, that's when the referees would be called to check it out. 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises ¯ The way they write the letter is important. What we are looking for is humility, not pride. Applicants may not talk about their lives at all. It may be more like a job application. In the letter, there may be no sense of where a person is, no sense of history. On the other hand, some people are very honest. 8. What could be done to improve the screening process? ¯ You could provide a description of the Spiritual Exercises, showing the challenges to a person's physical, emotional, and spiritual capacities. ¯ It may be helpful to provide referees with a profile of a "ready" person and ask them to comment on any aspect of concern. ¯ Check that the major superiors who write the ref-erences understand the Exercises. Require that at least one of the referees have made the Exercises. Ask the referee to indicate any knowledge and experience of the Exercises. ¯ Even if the referee did not know the Exercises, the description of the process should alert the person as to the qualities necessary. There should be an indication of the need for an ability to tolerate solitude, the ability to pray, and psychological and emotional stability. 9. What is the process of assessment of applicants at this center? Four individuals read each application and make comments. There is a draft approval form on which three people make assessments in terms of preparation, health, maturity, balance, motivation, timing, spon-sors (any reservations), expectations, helpfulness of the experience, and a proposal of the most suitable director available. The Director of the Center would make the final decision. Review for Religious Overall Reflection on This Process Since 2003, I have directed thirteen men and women in the Nineteenth Annotation Spiritual Exercises (often called the Retreat in Everyday Life). They come here to Gethsemane Community, a community house for a small group of men and women who have mental ill-ness. Entering this environment each week and getting to know the residents as individuals does a great deal to break down stigma and open directees to one aspect of social justice. In some instances this environment has enhanced their experience of the Exercises and led to some involvement in social justice. In reflecting with applicants wishing to make the Nineteenth Annotation, I have found it helpful to keep in mind some of the issues raised in the Readiness project. Appendix: Readiness for the Spiritual Exercises We offer for reflection some questions which may form the basis for an interview with retreat house team members. 1. In your experience as a director of the Spiritual Exercises, what would you look for as indicators that a directee was ready to move into an experience of the Exercises? 2. What would indicate that a directee may not be ready? 3. Given the limitations of time, specifically the time allocated for the disposition days, what would you do to help the directee come to a state of readiness? 4. What is the place of the Exercises in healing mode? 5. What would you do if you decided the directee may not be ready for the Exercises as such or for the full Exercises? 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises 6. If you encountered a resistance to the process of the Exercises or to Ignatian spirituality, how would you assist the directee? 7. What would you do if you found that the directee was still emotionally "flooded" by recent trauma which blocked openness to experiencing the Exercises? 8. What would you do if you found that, without real understanding of what would be involved, someone had come as part of a sabbatical and just wanted a nice prayer experience? 9. Do you consider that the current application and referee forms are effective in screening out people not yet ready for the experience of the Exercises? If you have any concerns or uncertainties, have you any sug-gestions as to how the forms could be improved? 10. If you judged from someone's application and referee forms that the person was not ready for the Exercises, what alternatives or further preparation would you suggest? 11. How could referees (e.g., major superiors, bish-ops) without any personal experience of the Exercises, be better informed so they could act more judiciously as referees? 12. Is it better to experience the Exercises, even in a limited way, if constrained by degrees of readiness, than not to experience them at all? 13. What other questions should I have asked? Have you any other comments? Note ~ Beckard, Richard, Organization Development: Strategy and Models, (Reading, Massachusetts. Addison-Wesley, 1969). J. William Pfeiffer and John E. Jones, The 1978 Annual Handbook for Group Facilitators (University Associates). Review for Religqous JULIUS D. LELOCZKY Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective The last enemy to be destroyed is death (1 Co 15:26) Our secularized age is obsessed with the idea of death. Some thirty to forty years ago it was fashionable to talk about the death of God, a shocking phrase borrowed from Friedrich Nietzsche. There was a "death of God" theol-ogy, and there were "death of God" theolo-gians who produced a whole library of books on the topic. Today, some thinkers seem to be ready to declare death itself as god. While the Christian churches and numerous other religious groups, in general, emphasize the preeminence of life on their scale of values, a large percentage of our contemporary society is obsessed with the idea of death. It is true that the thought of our unavoidable mortality is a main human concern in any time period, Julius D. Leloczky OCist writes from Cistercian Abbey of Our Lady of Dallas; 3550 Cistercian Road; Irving, Texas 75039. growing spiritually 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective but today, it seems, for many people, death dominates their entire existence and is the ultimate governing principle of their lives. A few weeks ago I noticed in a recent issue of The New York Times Book Review that in the best seller list of paperback fiction, six of the twenty listed books had in their titles the word "dead." A shocking expression of this macabre existential mood is the image painted by John Dominic Crossan: There is no lighthouse keeper. There is no light-house. There is no dry land. There are only people living on rafts made from their own imaginations. And there is the sea.l In this image the guard in the lighthouse represents the traditional image of God, and the ocean that besieges non-stop and finally breaks to pieces these fictitious rafts holding up the people stands for death itself. What is suggested by the image is that, ultimately, death rules. Yet we can understand that, without faith in God, with-out revelation and redemption, surrounded by the expe-riences of the coundess horrors of our age, the human mind almost unavoidably ends up with such a chilling worldview. 6o] Absurdity Yes, indeed, no one can deny it; death is the greatest absurdity. A beloved person, with an entire treasury of knowledge and skills, of kindness and loveliness, vibrancy of intellect, sense of humor, familiar play of a smile, the whole spectrum of various talents and skills, an entire lifetime of memories--all the wealth of a unique per-sonality-- is just gone from one moment to the next, without any possibility of return. Such a senseless and shocking end to human life makes life itself look absurd and tragic, just as a divorce or a failed friendship may Review for Religious make bitter many years of beautiful memories. Why should we work, struggle, dream, suffer if one day we have to leave everyone and everything? Why should we see, hear, experience beauty and goodness and happiness if all of that is only a transitory moment like a pleasant passing breeze and we cannot enjoy it forever? If we cannot live and love forever, why live and love at all? Forever Forever. This is the key word of our life. Whatever we like and whomever we love, we wish to possess for-ever. It is written in our genes, in our blood, in our instincts that we want to live for-ever. We feel in our bones that we have been created for eternity. That is why the pharaohs built their pyra-mids, why the painter paints his pictures, why the poet writes his poems, and why parents want to have children and grandchildren--all these in order to leave some-thing, some part of themselves, behind in this world after they die. We know that we have been created for eternity because we know from the Bible that we have been created in the image of God. That is why we want to live forever, why we find death an absurdity. We ask God defiantly, "If you created us to share in your hap-piness, why did you not create us immortal?" If we cannot live and love forever, why live and love at all? Freedom and Obedience Well, man and woman had originally been created immortal, but also free, just as God is free. In giving 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Deatb from a Christian Perspective human beings freedom, God gambled--took a tremen-dously great risk---and lost, because man and woman miserably misused their freedom. God lost, and when God lost, we all lost; we lost our immortality, and there-fore we all have to die. Absurdity entered our world. But God is a stubborn God who did not give up but continued to gamble and took an even greater risk by sending the Son on earth as a man. This Son, unlike Adam, was obedient, and he was sent to restore what Adam had squandered by disobedience. But God lost again. When this Son of God was made human in Jesus of Nazareth, his fellow human beings rejected him, condemned him to death, and killed him. The Son was obedient unto death, and being obedient he shared the plight of human life to its very depths: he suffered torture and died on the cross. The worst case scenario became a reality: evil, rebellion, and disobedience tri-umphed over God's goodness, and God's loving plan was seemingly frustrated for good. But enter God's wisdom and almighty power, which out of the worst can make the best. Jesus solemnly declared to Martha just before he raised Lazarus, her brother, from the dead: "I am the resurrection and the life" (Jn 11:25). This Son, the man Jesus Christ, was Life itself, with God's own eternal Life that death could never overpower or defeat dwell-ing within him. This Life proved to be stronger than death and thus ultimately defeated death: on the third day Jesus rose from the dead; he won over death, and his resurrection became the death of death itself. The result of this victory was that the death and resurrection of the one who is Life changed the character and mean-ing of death forever. What used to be the sign of final annihilation became for the friends of Jesus the sign of a new, eternal life: the sign of resurrection. Review for Religious One Life When a person receives Christ's risen life through faith and baptism, as far as that person is concerned, order returns in the world, absurdity is expelled, and death takes on a positive meaning. Formerly, death was a tragic end; now it is the source of new life. Jesus is the seed of this new life, and the seed of new life is planted into us by baptism. We carry the new, eternal life hidden in our fragile bodies. We still have to die. However death no longer means the end of life but the breaking out of eternal life (till now hidden in us by the limitations of our mortal bodies) into eternal dimensions. In an ancient prayer the church is expressing what happens when we die: "Lord, for your faithful people life is changed, not ended." In death we just leave behind all weakness and sickness, all imperfection and decay, and we look forward to a glori-ous, jubilant, eternal life in which all tears will be wiped away. A glory is waiting for us that eye has not seen, ear has not heard, and no mind is able to imagine. Life is one and indivisible; it cannot be separated into a life here on earth and another life after death. Human life, as redeemed by Jesus Christ, is like a tree that keeps growing and growing, and when it cannot grow any further on earth, it breaks through the sky, grows into heaven, and continues growing there. Death is no longer a horrifying enemy or a stumbling block but our ally, a stepping stone toward God, or, as St. Francis of Assisi joyfully called it, "Sister Death." Life is one and indivisible; it cannot be separated into a life here on earth and another life after death. 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective One Love Not only is life one and indivisible; so also is love. We read in the Song of Songs that "Love is strong as death" (8:6). Saint Paul writes to the Corinthians, "Love never ends . Faith, hope, and love remain, these three, but the greatest of these is love" (1 Co 13:8-13). Just as the soul is immortal, just as the body, at the end of time, will rise to eternal life, so also the love which a person had in earthly life will live on and continue to grow even after death. Our departed loved ones take their love, with all the other beauty and wealth of their personalities, with them into eternity. I think our risen bodies, with all their skills and talents, will look and act as they looked and acted at the peak of our lives--but without any brokenness--at the point when they reached the epitome of life, before they started the decline into old age. In addition, they will become more beautiful and more precious than they ever were in earthly life because they will be freed from all traces of selfishness. As we think of our friends and relatives who died, we should think of them with the awareness that this wealth of their personalities is with them even now, and if it is with them it is also with us. As long as we are alive on earth, our lives are "unfinished symphonies." When we die, our lives become completed masterpieces on which God puts the divine finishing touch. We should value greatly as our own treasure--hidden for eternity in heaven--the masterpieces of those we love who have gone before us. Preparing for Death We should look also at our own lives from the per-spective of death, and we should ask ourselves from time to time, Am I really working on the masterpiece I am Review for Religious supposed to become? Am I living my days in such a way that my words and deeds and thoughts keep building up in me that temple of the Holy Trinity that God meant me to become? Yes, we realize that most of the work is being done by God, but we should not forget that our cooperation is essential. With a simple metaphor we might say that God provides the building blocks for this temple but our free decisions are the mortar that holds the structure together. It is said that we will die in the way we live. Are my actions, my words, and my thoughts such that they are preparing for me a peace-ful death? In keeping with the above image of life as a tree, is my life growing toward heaven or in a different direction--or, maybe, not growing at all? A Question I frequently hold this question in mind: is there any reason why we could not communicate with our loved ones who have died? I don't think so; if we can ask any of the saints for their intercession, we should be able to be in touch also with our deceased friends and loved ones. I am sure that our loving ghoughts passing from here to there can reach them, more reliably than our call can reach someone through the telephone. Those in heaven and on earth are connected in a loving union by the grace of God, by the presence of God's trinitarian life in all of us. Our departed loved ones are not living light years away from us: they are near us, with us, right next to us. Only hell, the condition of total frozen isola-tion and loneliness, is separated from us. Outside of that state all people are united, in union with each other in God in love, just as the Abbess reflects in the last few words of Thornton Wilder's novel The Bridge of San Luis Re),: "There is a land of the living and a land of the dead 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only mean-ing." Or, as St. Paul puts it even more succinctly, "Love never ends" (1 Co 13:8). Note ' John Dominic Crossan, The Dark Interval: Towards a Theology of Sto~y (Polebridge Press, 1988), p. 28. Ask the Birds (Job 12:7) A flock of sparrows speckles the blue-gray sky swooping as one over the November park, slate silhouettes navigating the air with precision. Nuns used to look like this: dark habited, veils streaming in the wind, clustered freely within invisible enclosures. Some inner rule draws the birds to the barren branches of the tallest tree in the straight rank of elms waving to the lake. Despite their gentle bones, the birds' combined weight slows the sway. Stillness. They come each day for prayer or discernment, perched like transient blossoms crowning the tree's skyward arteries. This daily practice suggests permanence, yet I marvel that multiple revisions cast shadows on their family tree: life-sustaining changes in size, shape, speed, and song. I watch their aura of stability and belonging knowing from experience they'll soon be gone. For a few moments, though, their presence comforts me. Then, self-dismissed, the group leaves as it came, a compact community ascending gracefully into unknown and unfeared futures. Terri MacKenzie SHCJ Review for Religious j. THOMAS HAMEL Spiritual Direction 101 ~Ehxerecnis Iegs naantdi,u fso rw eaxsa mcopmlep, goasvine gin tshtreu Sctpioirnist utoal Consider the office of consoling which Christ Our Lord bears and to compare how friends are accus-tomed to console friends (224),~ is it possible that he was still experiencing that kind of consolation? Every now and then, if I should jot down a note in my diary, I can still feel the experience as I record it. The very same re-experiencing, I believe, takes place in speaking as it does in writing, and that fact has led to the ministry of spiritual direction. Thus the prayer experience of a directee is not necessarily wholly taken in until spoken to the sl~iritual director. At this point, the conversation 'takes. on. the complexion of praying. I should add, however, that in all my years of giving direction I have never begun a meeting with formal prayer. My principal reason for this is the fear of presenting myself as an authority figure. Instead, the Father J. Thomas Hamel sJ wrote for us in 2010 in our 69.1 issue. His address remains College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. 70.1 2011 Hamel ¯ Spiritual Direction I01 68 simple courtesies of welcome and personal concern are not only appropriate but also serve to prepare the way for contemplative exchange. Ignatius speaks of the one who gives the Exercises and the one who receives the Exercises (Annotation 1). The same roles are present in the ministry of spiritual direction, except that the giving and receiving become a dual ministry. Over time, a directee actually begins to minister to the director by the Way she presents her narrative. Sharing the experience of God is a gift to the director, whose own ministry of giving invited the directee to explore her experience in the first place. In desiring to see what the directee sees, to hear what the directee hears, and to notice what the directee notices, a contemplative director is being a good teacher. By contrast, when not contemplating, a director is merely gathering information, which often results in the direc-tor's primary focus being on the directee rather than on what God is doing. The seed scattered on the ground and beginning to sprout, while no one knows exactly how (Mt 4:27), is an apt metaphor for spiritual direction as it gets underway. The image of the sprouting seed captures what God is doing in both the director and directee. In this spiritual climate, choices begin to blossom. Witnessing a directee coming to reflect in a new way is like being with God in slow motion. A director, not wanting to rush ahead, might nevertheless, if nudged by God, say something he has never said before--and say it with confidence. In a direction session, things do happen for the first time, both for the one giving and for the one receiving direc-tion. For example, the directee may say, Last week in prayer I said to God "I love you." The words just came out of me from my toes to the top Review for Religious of my head. I am fifty years old. This is the first time in all my fifty years I could say that to God. It just poured out of me. I can scarcely believe I said it, but I did, and I meant every word. A first-time experience is wrapped in wonder, creat-ing new inner space. In saying to God "I love you," the directee was newly finding himself lovable. That may account for wanting to share the experience with the spiritual director. When a directee finds a home in Scripture, the door of the imagination opens wide to the director. The sim-ple key to remaining in a gospel scene is to get involved as if we were present -- (114). That involvement is part of being contem-plative. Moreover, just imagine what a directee is feeling when taking time to think of what to say to the Blessed Trinity or to the Eternal Word Incarnate or to our - - Mother and Lady (109). Imagine what a director is feeling when the deepening relationship with Jesus more and more becomes the major narrative of the directee or when moments of silence become moments of prayer. It is normal for a director to refer to an experience of God brought to a previous meeting with the directee. The Prayer of Rememberance These silent interludes are capable of suggesting a particular form of prayer. For example, it is normal for a director to refer to an experience of God brought to a previous meeting with the directee. In addition, the memory of what happened six months ago may be brought into the present conversation. Looking back 70.1 2011 Hamel ¯ Spiritual Direction I01 on the retreat made last year could affect the outcome of moments of quiet during direction. Such memories turn into a prayer of remembrance, especially when the relationship with Christ, his personal attraction, and his challenge are the focal point of the dialogue. Gathering up the leftovers of the past which feed the present is one way we carry out Jesus' everlasting desire that we "do this in remembrance of me" (Lk 22:19). The prayer of remembrance is to have the mind and heart of Christ by taking up the cup and eating the bread of ongoing prayer, of daily life itself, and the cup and bread of spiritual direc-tion. Essential to this prayer is the flexibility to adapt, to be open to what comes up in a spiritual direction session, so that the seed of a new moment may not fall by the wayside without taking root but may be brought to good soil that touches the soul and sprouts afresh. The operative word, of course, is contemplation as in contemplatio--Contemplatio ad amorem--the Contemplation to Keep on Loving (230). This prayer of morning, noon, and evening in everyday life brings to memory the ben-efits received--of my creation, redemption, and partic-ular gifts (234). One might easily name as among the benefits the particular gifts that come in the process of spiritual direction itself: trust, supervision, discernment, spiritual insight, self-knowledge, and the sense of security generated by the clear boundaries between director and directee. Each gift is like a parable that reveals a par-ticular place where God dwells. "See how God dwells in creatures likewise making a temple of me, being created to the image and likeness of His Divine Majesty" (235). The temple is no longer a place, but a person to be con-templated. In the ministry of giving spiritual direction, the spiritual director may grow aware of imitating Jesus, who has truly been contemplating the directee. This Review for Religious might be a new experience for the director as well as for the one receiving direction¯ Being looked at is one thing; being contemplated is noticeably different and reassur-ing. How much the deed of love is shown in contemplat-ing the other! At one time that love expresses itself as an exuberance of joy and gladness, while on other occa-sions it shows itself -- as the urge to labor and work: "consider how God works and labors for me ¯ . ." (236). It is no wonder that spiri-tual direction takes on a life of its own outside of meetings and in the psalms of everyday life. - . That life outside of spiritual direction may be as modest as noticing people reading the Bible on a sub-way and feeling connected with them. It may be coming across God's beauty at the sight of children feeding the swans and their cygnets in a local pond. The crowded streets of the city may bring to mind the picture of Jesus, who was surrounded by crowds of people but never lost sight of the poor among them. Conversations at home and at work may take on a kind of fragrance associ-ated with the conversations in spiritual direction. To put a gloss on St. Paul's "our citizenship is in heaven" (Ph 3:20), our eternal citizenship begins with our feet planted on the earth. That is the test of good spiritual direction. With both feet planted on the earth, Jesus covered a lot of territory in the towns, villages, and synagogues In the ministry of giving spiritual direction, the spiritual director may grow aware of imitating Jesus, who has truly been contemplating the directee. 71 70.1 2011 Hamel * Spiritual Direction I01 of Palestine. Ordinary people would hang on his every word as he spoke in the Temple area. Theologians like Nicodemus would seek his counsel at night. Children would run to him. He loved to tell stories, host picnics, do some fishing in all kinds of weather. Throughout his travels he gave new hope to the poor and marginal-ized. In all his comings and goings, Jesus was a light to old and young, enabling them to contemplate their own goodness, mercy, and faithfulness, thereby elicit-ing from them a response radiant with gratitude to the "bright morning star arising in their hearts" (2 P 1:19). In the light that was Jesus, new sights and sounds came to birth. A spoken word of his echoes Isaiah: And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it" (Is 30:21). An interior word, voiceless, reaches the heart. Like the dawn from on high, luminous as the sun and the brightness of rushing waters, the ministry of spiritual direction is a journey into the light of contemplative giving and receiving. Note I David L. Fleming, Draw Me Into Your Friendship: The Spiritual Exercises. A Literal Translation and a Contentporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 168, n. 224. Hereafter I will refer to the Exercises by giving the paragraph number in parentheses 72 Review for Religious PHYLLIS ZAGANO Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons The twin events of the Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States and the doctrinal investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious present an opportunity to revisit and reconsider the tra-dition of women deacons. While the Apostolic Visitation appears to be primarily involved with lifestyle and ministry, and the doctrinal investigation of LCWR is more inquisitorial in style, each in its own way points toward a reflexive institutional recognition of the place of women in diaconal ministry. The Apostolic Visitation, which moved from initial and unscripted general inquiry, through a detailed three-part questionnaire, to on-site visitations of approximately 25% of U.S. institutes of women religious, is widely Phyllis Zagano is a well-known authority on women in ministry and senior research associate-in-residence at Hofstra University; 104 Heger Hall; 115 Hofstra University; Hempstead, New York 11549. exploring religious life 73 70.1 2011 Zagano ¯ Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons viewed as a corporate insult to the 59,000 or so U.S. women religious under scrutiny and to the local bishops responsible for overseeing them. The doctrinal investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious ballooned from a request for position statements on the matter of women priests, homosexuality, and the primacy of Christ in interreligious dialogue to a full review of publications and positions, directed by American Cardinal William J. Levada, Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Read positively, the subtext of the combined events can provide information about the re-evolution of wom-en's ministry, now through apostolic religious life for women, to the restored permanent diaconate, which is both historically and contemporaneously properly understood as a ministry of prayer and service. Understanding the Diaconate Deacons are ordained to a ministry of service, spe-cifically to the word, the liturgy, and charity. They are not "mini-priests," but clerics with a specific vocation to diaconal ministry. Their distinction from priests is clear in The Catechism of the Catholic Church, No. 875: From [Christ], bishops and priests receive the mis-sion and faculty ("the sacred power") to act in per-sona Christi Capitis; deacons receive the strength to serve the people of God in the diaconia of the liturgy, word and charity, in communion with the bishop and his presbyterate. On 26 October 2009, Pope Benedict XVI issued a Motu proprio entitled Omnium in mentem, which codifies the distinction between priesthood and the diaconate as the distinction is articulated in the Catechism. As stipu- Review for Religious lated in the Motu proprio and now entered into law, dea-cons serve the people of God through the diaconia of the liturgy, the word, and charity. The clear distinction between the priest (who acts in the person of Christ, head of the church) and the deacon (who serves the people of God) both reflects arguments against the ordina-tion of women to the priesthood and deflects arguments against the ordination of women to the diaconate. The essential points raised against women priests are (1) the argument from authority--Jesus chose male apostles and (2) the iconic argu-ment- one must phys-ically represent Jesus. Of course, neither of these applies to the diaconate for several reasons. First, the Apostles, not Christ, are gener-ally understood to have created the diaconate (Ac 6:1-6). Second, the only person in Scripture specifically called "deacon" is Phoebe (Rm 16:1). Third, the deacon is ordained "not to the priesthood, but to the ministry." It is important to recognize both that the diaconate is not the priesthood and that diaconal service is a legitimate vocation for women. Apostolic Religious Life and the Diaconate It is important to recognize both that the diacon-ate is not the priesthood and that diaconal service is a legitimate vocation for women. Without entering into a determinative debate about the immediate possibility of restoring the female diaconate in the Western Church, we can review the twin investigations of women reli- 70.1 2011 Zagano ¯ Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons 76 gious in light of the possibility of an increasingly evident vocation of women to apostolic ministry as deacons. The evolution of what has come to be termed "min-isterial religious life''1 in the United States has moved sufficient numbers of women away from monastery and cloister practices toward ministerial life inserted into the lives of the people, a way of life supported by com-mon life and sometimes,.but not always, lived in com-mon ministry. This ministerial life has many similarities to the ministerial life of the ordained deacon. The Apostolic Visitation's questionnaire is divided into several sections: Identity, Governance, Membership, Spiritual Life, Common Life, Mission & Ministry, and Finances. If each section is considered in the light of apostolic women religious doing the diaconal work of the church--now as unordained lay ministers--we can easily intuit the divergent directions taken by the Visitation and a given institute guided by the Spirit to address the needs of the times. If there indeed is an emerging femi-nine vocation to the diaconate, then perhaps some apos-tolic women religious are demonstrating it. Vatican documents provided by the Visitation team present an investigation into what has come to be under-stood as traditional apostolic religious life, and the over-all attitude of the event itself seems to call for a return to common habit, horaria, mission, and ministry. Indeed, recent statistics gathered by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate demonstrate that the larger numbers of new vocations to religious life are to insti-tutes that demonstrate such commonality.2 The com-mon- if unstated--criticism of other institutes (those not living according to more traditional expectations) is that they would have more new vocations if they would return to a traditional religious life. But those new voca- Review for Religion, s tions would then be looking for a religious life that is more monastic or cloistered. They would not fit among the evolving charisms of the institutes without common horaria or habit, whose members have moved toward independent and/or less traditional ministries while retaining the public identity of their mem-bership in an institute of consecrated life. The choice appears to be between an institute adopting or retaining common habit, horaria, mission, and ministry, or dying out. Such presents a classic either-or fallacy. The criti-cism ignores the possibility of new life and rebirth into something new. That is, the choice is not between tradi-tional religious life and nothing but between traditional religious life and a new thing. There is no dearth of young women who wish to ded-icate their lives to ministry. Religious life is not identical to lay ecclesial ministry, and such criticism overlooks the fact of increasing numbers of lay ecclesial ministers (some statistics point to 35,000 in the United States today) and, especially, the large number of young women entering lay ecclesial ministry. Neither is religious life the diacon-ate, but such criticism also overlooks the large number of ordained deacons (approximately 36,000 worldwide, with more than 16,000 in the United States). Is it possible that the vocations to apostolic religious life are being overtaken by newer vocations, specifically, to lay ecclesial ministry (being lived out by those married, single, and in religious life) as well as by the vocation to the ordained There is no dearth of young women who wish to dedicate their lives to ministry. 77 70.1 2011 Zagano * Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons diaconate (now being lived out by those married, and by both secular and religious celibates)? Is it possible that the young women who once might have entered many of the now fading institutes of religious life are choos-ing lives more akin to those of secular--or religious--lay ecclesial ministers or deacons? Apostolic Religious and the Diaconal Ministry To assess the possible findings of Rome's twin investigations, it is well to look at the severest critics of contemporary U.S. women's religious life, including journalist Ann Carey, whose 1997 Our Sunday Visitor book, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of VVomen's Religious Communities, connects abandonment of the habit with what she terms "the deconstruction of min-istry." Carey presents at least one modern case study that pits a religious community of women against the local hierarchy. That case study, the story of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in California, is remi-niscent of medieval tugs-of-war between bishops and abbesses over control, not only of the conventual living arrangements of the women, but of their properties and very status as well. The eleventh century saw the initia-tion of the Gregorian Reform, which eventuated in the elevation of the clergy and concurrent diminution of women, including and especially women religious. That thousand-year split between what can be viewed, at least in retrospect, as the "men's church" and the "women's church" echoes throughout Carey's book, which at every turn criticizes the move of women religious away from common habit, horaria, mission, and ministry. Carey's book, however, speaks only to what she per-ceives as a movement away from, without any consider-ation of what the institutes of women religious moved Review for Religious toward as they modernized habits and horaria. Neither she, nor others of the deepest critics of contemporary apostolic religious life for women in the United States, note that the changes were and are specifically in the service of mission and ministry. Granted, missions may have been redefined and broadened, along with minis-tries, but

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 68.4 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Theology and Life Religion; Life Models ,Exemplars of Faith Sharing ,Experience QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©200~ Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~hohc ~pirituah~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 353 theology and life Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance Randall S. Rosenberg sketches how the theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar challenges us to ask whether theology is not simply about understanding, but about an understand-ing that includes aesthetic-dramatic encounters. How You Eat Matters A. Paul Dominic SJ draws the implications from sacrifice, meals, and human eating in the Hindu, Jewish, and Christian traditions that all human eating is truly meant to be a religious act. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 364 379 religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study Patricia Wittberg SC proposes that current religious , congregations consider encouraging social-movement organizations (SMOs) as viable versions for future religious life. Revisiting Religious Identity William P. Clark OMI carefully reflects on how Vatican I! presented religious life and brought a freshness once again to the special vocation offered by God to those consecrated by religious profession. " Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Review for Religious 389 exemplars of faith ~ Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Leo J. Heriot SDB draws upon the experience of St. Paul and of St. John Bosco to show how God may communicate with us, telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 395 On Hilda of Whitby Sister Hilda Kleiman OSB reflects on the origins and spirituality behind her new religious name, Hilda, which means "Battle Maiden." 4O4 411 sharing experience ~ World Youth Day and Religious Life William Prospero SJ describes how World Youth Day promotes consecrated vocations by providing young Catholics with a joyful experience of living the evangelical counsels. Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? Benny Phang OCarm works from an insight from John Paul lI's Theology of the Body to see the complementarity of the vocations of marriage and celibacy rather than viewing them as rivals. 427 432 443 departments ~ ,~ ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms with an Elephant in the Room Book Reviews 2009 Index 339 68.4 2009 prisms I n early January 2009, I was told that I had less than a year to live. As I come to write these reflections in our final issue of the year 2009, I share various reac-tions that have been part of the landscape over the past months. My first response to the doctor's prognosis ff)r pancreatic cancer was that it is a gift to be told that one has so many months to live and that an end is in sight. The doctor, of course, went on to give options. I could have an operation, and it would likely add some months. I could also have the operation, followed by chemotherapy/radia-tion, and it would add some months and likely some years. The doctor wanted to give me some time to think about the options, but I immedi-ately agreed with his own stated preference that I would undergo the operation and follow up chemotherapy. It seemed that medically I was in a place where I should follow the biblical injunc-tion, "choose life." The operation seemed to be successful in removing the visible cancer, and the six-month- long chemotherapy treatment has been an experimental study program including a vaccine that eliminates radiation. I have fin-ished the program as of the publication of this issue. Now I live within a wait-and-see time of measurement and ~esting. Revie~v for Religious November remains a church time to remember the dead and remind ourselves of our own mortality. I have been feeling even more attuned to the reality of my own personal dying throughout these past months so that it is easy to celebrate November liturgy. It is nice to be put "on notice"--which is how I consider the identi-fication of my cancer. The likelihood of dying is just made more real and, as it were, within reach. It allows me time to reflect and pray how I face this kind of time, what attitude I want to take, and how I want to use the time I have. It does not seem fearsome or dark. In fact, it seems full of surprises of how God wants to meet me in unexpected ways, sometimes not initially pleasing to me. I seem to be taught a lot about powerlessness, patience, and the goodness of strangers. I also believe strongly in the efficaciousness of the prayer support of others. Advent is a church time of looking forward to new life and especially of our life forever with God. It con-eludes with Christmas, a celebration of how God, in Christ, enters into our human life, never to let it go. Throughout 2009 with all its medical focus, I have con-tinued to be blessed with finding new life and I again look forward to entering into Advent with greater ¯ appreciation. Christmas will be God's own gift to me of celebrating the gift of human life for however many more months and years God intends. With celebrating Christmas, it is good to remember that we were all born to be living a life forever with God, and that remains my hope too. David L. Fleming SJ 341 The Review for Religious Advisory Board and Editorial Staff wish all of our readers a most blessed Advent and Christmas season. 68.4 2009 RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance theology and life 342 "Ihe Swiss thinker Hans Urs yon Balthasar is something of an enigma. He has been called the greatest Catholic theologian of the 20th century. He is the inspiration behind many believers who understand themselves as "orthodox" or "solid" Catholics. His work has been seen as an example of greater integration of spirituality and theology. He is the author to whom Jon Sobrino SJ refers in his reflec-tions on the "faith of Christ," a controver-sial position which has been criticized by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. His ideas about gender complementarity and women's ordination have angered many. Some scholars, with strong Thomist commitments, have vigorously criticized his Christology and ¯ soteriology. Other scholars besides Sobrino are Randall S. Rosenberg is assistant professor of religion and philosophy at Fontbonne University (a school spon-sored by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet); 6800. Wydown Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63105. Review for Religious beginning to make use of his thought to meet the con-cerns of liberation and political theology. My plan here is not to analyze all these currents. Rather, I intend to look at Balthasar's distinctive ideas about the aesthetic-dramatic constitution of Christian reality. He sees God's revelation, God's self-disclosure, as occurring first in aesthetic and dramatic forms, and he sees Christians as called to be co-actors in this "theo-drama" through liturgical ritual and a distinctive way of living. A Generational Concern Some of my attraction to Balthasar is probably gen-erational. I was born ten years after the Second Vatican Council. Although my childhood was shaped by a won-derful Catholic parish and school, my contemporaries and I still experienced what William Portier has called "the dissolution of the American Catholic subcul-ture." Not that I particularly desire a restoration of the good old days; for many, those days were apparently not so good. But it seemed to me, as I began to read Balthasar, that he was not only restoring something of the Christian vision's rich particularity and oddness, but also pointing out to people how beautifully and dra-matically that vision has enhanced all kinds of human lives, the great variety of saints most eminently. As he writes in Love Alone Is Credible, "Lovers are the ones who know most about God; the theologian must listen to them" (p. 12). It was exciting to discover a thinker who brought into his theology the witness of holy people and great texts not normally found in systematic theologians' reflection: Th~r~se of Lisieux, John.of the Cross, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Dante, to name just a few. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Cbristian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. And yet this same thinker also engaged seriously the thought of Hegel, Nietzsche, and Heidegger. In other words--Rodney Howsare has shown this in his book Baltbasar and Protestantism: The Ecumenical Implications of His Theological Style--Balthasar's theological vision had room both for God's revelation in Christ and for the works of reli-gious- philosophical scholars as legitimate moments in under-standing and present-ing Christian truth. Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. His enviable dis-play of both loving devotion and a critical engagement with modernity prompts me to see him as embodying in important ways the dual task of ressourcement and aggior-namento set by Vatican II. Christian Existence as Theo-Drama The aesthetic-dramatic nature of Christian life is shown in the Scriptures. Moses and Paul experienced, aesthetically, the beauty or glory of God in the burn-ing bush and on the road to Damascus. These aesthetic encounters were also dramatic, and they led to the rest of their lives' being high drama as well. It is a com-mon feature of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures that experiences of God are not just holy feelings; they have a vocational, missionary purpose. The first part of Balthasar's multivolume trilogy, The Glory of the Lord, describes the way we first encounter the phenomenon Review for Religious of divine revelation as beautiful. The second part of the trilogy, Theo-Drama, recognizes that God's revelation is not something we merely look at; rather, we are drawn into the drama of revelation and are called to respond. Robert Barron nicely captures Balthasar's aesthetic-dra-matic emphasis: Christianity--like painting, baseball, and philoso-phy- is a world, a form of life. And, like those other worlds, it is first approached because it is perceived as beautiful. A youngster walks onto a baseball dia-mond because he finds the game splendid, and a young artist begins to draw because she finds the artistic universe enchanting. Once the beauty of Christianity has seized a devotee, she will long to submit herself to it, entering into its rhythms, its institutions, its history, its drama, its visions and activities. And then, having practiced it, having worked it into her soul and flesh, she will know it. The movement, in short, is from the beautiful (it is splendid!) to the good (I must play it!) to the true (it is right). In my own encounter with Balthasar, I have most appreciated his dramatic emphasis. In the first volume of his breathtaking five-volume Theo-Drama, Balthasar gives attention to the drama of human existence by using writers like Shakespeare, George Bernanos, Bertolt Brecht, Eugene Ionesco, and even the American Arthur Miller in a kind of prolegomenon to his understanding of Christian existence as "theodramatic." His range of reference to Christian, non-Christian, and even anti- Christian dramatists is astonishing. He uses the theater to illuminate the risk and gravity of human life, the catastrophes and tensions that constitute our existence, and the finite time span within which we must struggle for the good, under judgment and in the face of death. The theater can offer an opening to people's encoun- 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Theology'$ Relevance 346 ter with revelation. Balthasar's theodramatic approach employs the metaphor of the world stage. As actors in history, human beings share in the Son's mission, under the Holy Spirit's direction. Just as an actor's role in a theatrical drama constitutes a limited part of the play for a particular purpose, the finite lives of persons who share in the mission of Christ, no matter their life span, dis-close meaning that is relevant for the whole of history. On a personal note, I have appreciated Balthasar's dramatic treatment of the tragic in human existence. I have made my own the following remark of Rowan Williams: "What I found in Balthasar's work was an extraordinary depth of contemplative understand-ing, along with vivid awareness of the tragic quality of human existence--the hellishness of humanity and God's involvement in it--which resonated very deeply with me." Ever since I was a child, I have been par-ticularly sensitive to this tragic dimension, a disposition that has been heightened by my wife's daily work with children who suffer from cancer. The problem of evil as it manifests itself in sickness, natural disasters, random acts of violence, war, oppression, and genocide is never far from my mind. The late British theologian Donald MacKinnon, noting that Balthasar rarely treats the horror of the Holocaust directly, adds that "the nervous ten~ion of the whole argument witnesses to the author's passion-ate concern to present the engagement of God with his world in a way that refuses to turn aside from the over-whelming, pervasive reality of evil." Balthasar does not paper over the pathos of the real world, a pathos full of darkness and ambiguity. For him, God, in the incarna-tion and passion of Jesus, "steps to his opponent's side and, from within, helps him reach justice and freedom. Review for Religious Hnitude, time, and death are not negated: they are given a new value in a way that is beyond our comprehension. Indeed, even what is hostile to God, in all its profound abysses, is not abandoned; God does not turn his back on it: it is taken over and reworked." Balthasar never taught academic theology at a uni-versity. He spent many years, however, as a university chaplain. In the Switzerland of the 1940s this kind of work was largely cultural. Balthasar the chaplain spent his time giving lectures, in the evening debating in various student societies, and giving retreats. To borrow John W. O'Malley SJ's useful catego-ries from his Four Cultures of the West, Balthasar's thought more resembles cultures three and four--"Poetry, Rhetoric, and the Common Good" and "Art and Performance"-- than it does culture two--"The Academy and the Professions." O'Malley's remarks on Erasmus could be said about Balthasar: "He felt he could criticize Scholastic theology because he had an alternative to offer: a return to the more literary and rhetorical style of the Fathers. That was the 'ancient and genuine' the-ology, quite different from the 'modern' theology. It was genuine because it was drawn directly from the sacred texts and because it had led to a 'theological life.' It touched the heart and centered on the few truths that were essential to Christianity rather than on the second-ary issues the Scholastics pursued" (p. 160). Balthasar once remarked that his study with the Jesuits, largely in Neo-Scholastic mode, was a "grim struggle with what men had made out of the glory of revelation." He Balthasar never taught academic theology ,at a university. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance 348 ~ "could not endure this presentation of the Word of God and wanted to lash out with the fury of Samson," tear "down the whole temple," and bury himself "beneath the rubble." It is often true that Balthasar's mode of presentation resembles a patristic sermon more than a scholastic treatise. In my recent experiences of presenting papers, giv-ing academic lectures, and doing job interviews, it has become evident that this aesthetic-dramatic emphasis genuinely excites scholars and ordinary laypeople. This emphasis could also be said to be Balthasar's greatest shortcoming as a "systematic" theologian. He is called "unsystematic" by those who argue for the indispens-ability of a more scientifically or theoretically con-structed theology in the manner of Thomas Aquinas. Let me address both sentiments. On the one hand, I am convinced that Balthasar's aesthetic-dramatic emphasis nurtures an appreciation for the inexhaustible mystery that resides at the heart of Christian revelation. He offers a richly symbolic and imaginative approach--one that fosters better Christian living, namely, the dramatic artistry needed for fulfill-ing our own unique missions. That is, his theology can give momentum to the religious feelings and beliefs that help us accomplish good in the particular circumstances of our lives. On the other hand, the aesthetic-dramatic emphasis is not always helpful when one does "system-atic theology" in order to answer the further questions that arise out of one's aesthetic-dramatic, liturgical, or devotional life. Balthasar's theology, besides being eclectic, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let "paradox" be the answer, rather than carefully working out a set of terms and relations and bringing a theo-logical intelligibility to the concrete conditions in which Review for Religious Christians live their lives. One is more likely to find this kind of intelligibility in Bernard Lonergan or Karl Rahner. Let me offer an example. It was my encounter with the writings of Balthasar that helped me discover the "weightiness" of the mystery of the cross. Balthasar is not content with presenting the cross as merely a consequence of Jesus' prophetic stance in the world. It is that, but it is also much more. It contains a vicarious element, which somehow involves Jesus' "taking on" the sin of the human race. Balthasar desires to do justice to a dominant theme in the Fathers, namely, the admirabile commercium, God's "wondrous exchange," with sinners. With aesthetic and dramatic power, Balthasar communi-cated to me the cross's power and centrality. And yet as questions arose--How did Jesus "take on" sin? Did he also take on our guilt? If so, did he also experience a loss of hope and the kind of darkness sinners experience?-- I became less satisfied with his systematic answers (or lack thereof). In my own research I have been more satisfied with a Thomist pattern of explanation (also not without its critics), given contemporary expression in Bernard Lonergan's writings on "Satisfaction" and the "Law of the Cross." Such writings offer terms and relations that can be used in engaging the modern sciences construc-tively. Balthasar has often prompted in me an excite-ment and concern about such theological questions Balthasar's theology, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let ',paradox" be the answer. 349 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance and then failed to give me adequate answers. In his De Verbo Incarnato, Lonergan writes that, if one approaches Christ's passion and death with primarily a "symbolic mentality," where image and feeling predominate, then one is likely to express the meaning of the cross in terms of "substitution" or "satispassion," that is, in terms of Jesus' "suffering enough" for sins. These words do not do justice to the sophistication of Balthasar's approach, but they indicate something about his theological style in general and his theology of Christ's passion and death in particular. In my estimation, because of its dramatic terminology and its reliance on the mystical experiences of Adrienne von Speyr, Balthasar's theology of Christ's passion and death is often unclear and even reckless. I wonder, though, whether this theological question, sparked by the power of Balthasar's presentation, would have occurred to me at all without his help. Balthasar himself was not concerned with meeting the requirements of a technical, theoretical, systematic theologian. He once said in an interview, "My books are not the kind of theology that belongs to the aca-demic guild and therefore they are not particularly suited for dissertations." He remarked, "I have to say that for me the only truly interesting theologians are the saints: from. Irenaeus through Augustine to Anselm, to Bonaventure, or figures that allow the radiation of holiness to show forth, such as Dante or Newman; one could also mention Kierkegaard and Solovyov." A Call for Fruitful Integration My concern goes beyond the question of Balthasar's adequacy as a systematic theologian. I have accentuated his aesthetic-dramatic approach here, but I know there are many other approaches as well. My concern is the Review for Religious shape of Catholic theology in the 21st century and the place of the aesthetic-dramatic style therein. Vv'hat does theology conceived in Anselmian fashion as "faith seek-ing understanding" mean in light of the many theologi-cal styles we have inherited from the 20th century, from what Fergus Kerr has called "the Heroic Generation"? In my discussion of the cross, I have offered a "the-oretical" or "explanatory" challenge to Balthasar's theological style. Let me now say that Balthasar, too, offers a challenge. He makes us ask: Must not theol-ogy go well :beyond understanding to an understand-ing that is aesthetically and dramatically in touch with the joys and challenges of ordinary Christian existence? Shouldn't theology be more attentive to the Mystery that is encountered in aesthetic and dramatic form in our workaday world's prayer and worship? A question remains regarding what to do with the diversity of theological styles we have inherited. R.R. Reno has suggested that "we need a period of consolidation that allows us to integrate the lasting achievements of the Heroic Generation into a renewed standard theology." Let me suggest, without adequate exposition, one possible way forward, a way which has been similarly outlined by Robert Doran SJ. The chal-lenge of this generation is to integrate three 20th-cen-tury theological movements--contemporary Thomism, the ressourcement project of la nouvelle thdologie, and the various expressions of political-liberation theol-ogy. These three movements could be of help (1) in explaining theological doctrines in a theoretical man-ner that is capable of engaging with the natural and social sciences in search of a unity of knowledge; (2) in experiencing and mediating Catholic thought and culture through aesthetic-dramatic forms; and (3) in 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance dealing with concrete human suffering of all kinds in light of the gospel mandate to transform a world in need. Such a grand vision would require sympathetic and critical conversations, the highlighting of comple-mentarities and dialectical differences, and the humil-ity to be open to revision. If such an integration were to occur, it would require doing justice in an orderly way to the richness of being human in the flow of his-tory, that is, being psychological, intellectuall rational, moral, loving, mystical, and worshipful. For this enter-prise Balthasar would certainly not have all the answers, but he would have much to contribute to it. By Beauty Tethered God of the dawn and high noon and of twilight and midnight; God of the tides and the myriad droplets of dew; God of gardenias and larkspur and tulips; by beauty, God,~ tether my being to you. Mary Anne Huddleston IHM Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC How You Eat Matters I fEatthien gti,t lAe sJeoeymous sa Sbaict rpiufizczel.i"n gIn, It hper ompoatstee ra noof tehaetr-: ing, as in every other human exercise or experience, there is surely more to it than meets the eye, or indeed the tongue or any other sense organ. Perception of such impalpable reality may take no time or consume no little time. Communicating that reality, however, normally requires time, and maybe a detour. Anyway, in the present case, the process has been for me an experience of obscurum per obscurius, though at the end it was all darum (clear), bathed in light. "Hindu Prayer: A First for Congress"--that was the title of the news item from India Abroad News Service on 14 September 2000. The news was the historic event of a Hindu priest delivering the opening prayer in the United States House of Representatives.1 The prayer ran as follows: "O God, you are omnipresent, omnipo-tent, and omniscient. You are everything, and nothing A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote for us about dreams in 2008. His address is Aishalton c/o St Ignatius Mission; Lethem P.O.; Rupununi, Guyana (South America). Emaih pauldominicsj@yahoo.com 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters is beyond you. You are our mother and father, and we are all your children." It continued: "Whatever you do is for our good. You are the ocean of mercy, and you forgive our errors. You are our teacher, and you guide us on to righteousness . Today, in this great hall, are assembled the elected representatives of the people of this nation. They are ready to perform their duties. God, please guide them in their thoughts and actions so they can achieve'the greatest good for all." The prayer ended with an invocation from the ancient scriptures of India. "May all be happy, may all be free from disease, may all realize what is good, may none be subject to misery; peace, peace, peace be unto all." The fact of the Hindu prayer in the U.S. Congress was objectionable and even threatening to some. Many others strongly counterprotested. Anyway, the words of the prayer cannot be construed really offensive to any-one, except of course an atheist. As a matter of fact, they breathe the deepest longings of harried humanity hop-ing in the Divinity. The way they are addressed to God smacks of no narrow Hinduism nor any sectarianism for that matter, but an inclusive theism. The God invoked is everybody's God.2 If the Hindu priest had his own traditional or peculiar thoughts about God, in no way does that show itself in his prayer. Even the concluding prayer, taken from the Hindu scriptures, sounds indeed more universal than particularly Hindu. It seems to show that genuine prayer cuts across ,barriers of religion. Everything connected with prayer in Hinduism can-not, of course, be explained thus. There are aspects of Hindu worship that are confined and meaningful only to adherents of Hinduism with its practices and tenets. Even here, however, it is wise to distinguish between what is exclusively Hindu and what is purely religious-- Review for Religious even though in practice the two are generally too inter-twined to detect. We should, however, exercise ourselves in this regard, for we can be surprisingly enriched as Christians and, what is more, find ourselves agree-ably bonded with other sincere believers. For example, though the ritual of sacrifice in various religions is dif-ferent in all of them and likely to distract and distance other people, the faith element in those sacrifices can be heartwarming and edifying to all those who can intuit it. Some reading I did about Hindu sacrifice proved to be quite inspiring. From it I got a sense of the homely and heavenly meaning of sacrifice beyond the altar's formal vesture, furnishings, and ceremony. I have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. I was confirmed in my belief when I found a simi-lar thought in a poet with a Christian background. He shares his vision charmingly and persuasively: Since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship, And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacri-ficed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.3 I have no inkling of how the poet arrived at his vision of profound truth. I can recount, however, my experience in this regard, recalling first the Hindu insight. i have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters A Hindu Adumbration The universe in the ancient Hindu vision originat-ing from the Vedic4 times of 2000 BC consisted of three worlds: the physical, the psychological, and the spiritual manitCesting themselves not as separate but congruent spheres. Fire (Affni in Sanskrit) at the physical level was obviously visible flames, like those burning a sacrificial offering to the deity. At the psychological level it was the mind exercising itself in thinking and knowing. At the spiritual level the same word was a name of God. Given the superiority of the spiritual over the physical and the psychological, the latter two were regarded and grasped as manifestations of the one supreme Spirit called Agrni, extending through the three-tiered universe. "The fire which is the sun, the fire which is the earth, that fire is in my own heart," as a Vedic verse put it pithily. One cannot miss the images of the three worlds: the sun standing for the spiritual, the earth for the material, and the human for the psychological.5 Anyone who is not at ease with this ancient under-standing needs only a moment's thought to see its con-nection with reality. For this a comparison with another religious tradition may help. In the Judaic tradition, physical fire serves the cultic needs of purification and liturgical rituals of offering. Fire that necessarily burns can signi~ blazing anger and, more importantly, the tribulation that cleanses the heart and proves the soul righteous. Fire is predicated of God's own self in theophanies of saving presence, transcendence, and benevolence. God appears as the burning bush and the pillar of fire and indeed as consuming fire (Dt 4:24, 9:3; Is 33:14). God purifies his servants and sets them afire with zeal so that the whole universe may shine in glory. Christian tradition has inherited this entire view Review for Religious and given it its own emphasis. Recall Jesus saying: "I have come to bring fire on the earth and desire that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49).6 Observing parallels in the Vedic and Biblical views of the world, one may see other ones as well. In the Vedic thought, sacrifice involves a conscious perception that the three worlds are bound together as one universe. Sacrifice involves lighting a fire and burning an obla-tion on the altar. The idea behind the ritual is that the spiritual fire that is in heaven is also buried in the earth, and so it bursts forth when stones or sticks are struck. By being burned, the gifts laid on the altar are carried to heaven. The fiery sacrifice returns all that is on the earth to its original source in heaven. The ideal of sacrifice behind this graphic picture is not absent in the Bible. Elijah's successful sacrifice when the prophets of Baal miserably failed (1 K 18:22.-38) comes to mind here. To continue still further with the inner significance of the Vedic sacrifice, as long as sacrifice is performed everything keeps returning to its origin, and human beings find themselves living in harmony with the uni-verse. When people fail in their duty of sacrifice, they interfere with the cyclic rhythm that sustains the world of which they are a part. They use the mountain of gifts without attending to their nature, thereby isolating both themselves and all things from their origin. They violate the law of the universe. But, when sacrifice is duly and gratefully done, it redounds to universal prosperity. This seems reflected in Psalm 50: "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and pay your vows to the Most High." The last element of all sacrifice is perhaps too obvi-ous to be striking: it is eating the sacrificial offerings. What is offered in sacrifice is normally things that peo-ple eat, and so a sacrifice ends as a sacrificial meal. But 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters In the matter of sacrifice, the universal beliefwas that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. who eats in sacrifice? Those who sacrifice, of course. But, as the sacrifice is not offered to themselves, they do not eat alone. When the sacrifice is consumed by fire, it is believed that the deity above consumes it. This understanding is highlighted in the Hindu scriptural verse: "I, the Lord, become the fire of life, and seated in the body I consume the four kinds of food." This passage is certainly obscure for many, though it is for Hindus a familiar verse (vakya in Sanskrit) of the Bhagavad Gita, perhaps the most personal of all their scriptures. Anyway, what it says links human eating with divine eat-ing. In the matter of sacrifice, the universal belief was that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. Similarly, one may well conclude that what humans eat in ordinary meals is at the same rime consumed by "the fire of life," which is none other than God dwelling in human bodies. And so a human meal itself becomes a sacrifice to God. Bede Griffiths, the English Benedictine who, along with other foreign pioneers in India, continued the Indian tradition of ashram (akin to monasticism in the Western tradition), explains the point thus: "That fire, which is in the heaven above and in the earth beneath, is in our own bodies; we offer our food in sacrifice in that inner fire and it is consumed in the fire and surrendered to God again. So a meal is a sacrifice." Here is a subtle move from a sacrificial meal eaten on occasion to daily Review for Religious meals eaten in the joyous, harmonious spirit of sacri-fice. Drawing from another stanza in the Bhagavad Gita, Griffiths concludes that "anyone taking a meal without sacrificing is a thief; this is to take the gifts of God and appropriate them to oneself instead of receiving them as gifts and returning thanks.''7 A Christian Follow-Up Such a thought can startle nominal or profane Christians who have no thought of God whatever when they satisfy their hunger and thirst or overly indulge their tastes. Normal devout Christians accustomed to their routine mealtime prayer may well find more mean-ing in their daily practice. The grace before and after meals will then become the grace of meals as sacrifice. The whole meal from start to finish becomes an exercise and experience of grace, with the grace understood in terms of sacrifice. If sacrifice involves material fire for burning the oblation, daily meals as sacrifice ought to burn with the psychospiritual fire of desire--desire not merely for food, but for the One who gives the food. The Giver of food gives not only the natural and won-derful food and drink, but also the hunger, thirst, and taste buds necessary to enjoy it. Further, through our gratefulness God raises our minds beyond the mean philosophy of eat, drink, and be merry before it is too late. Enkindled by this grate-fulness, we cannot but experience a burning hunger for God. This does not produce asceticism in us so much as refine our taste for the simple, healthy, necessary food that makes for joyous living. At the same time it enables us to find God in food itself.8 This way of eating, that is much more than munching and gulping, becomes a sacrifice by virtue of the prayer surrounding our meals. 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters As St. Paul says, food is for the stomach and the stom-ach for food, and ultimately the body is for the Lord (1 Co 6:13). Sacrificial prayer, then, from hearts burn-ing with fervor for God, rises like incense and raises people's spirits while leaving them contented with their daily bread. It is the very opposite of making a god of one's belly (Ph 3:19)9 and sacrificing to it. This talk is not farfetched or feverishly imagined. It breathes the spirit of Jesus who, being more a mystic than an ascetic, ate with much gratitude to his Abba God and with the childlike merriment of having been blessed. When necessary he gave hungry people food, but he also chided them for not understanding their hunger aright. One may learn a lot from his controversy with them as they were looking for him the day after he had miraculously fed them with bread and fish to their hearts' content (Jn 6). He unveiled to them their own undignified thoughts regarding food and satisfaction. He warned them not to work for food that cannot give life, but for the food from God that gives eternal life. "God's bread comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." Jesus told them that people do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God's mouth (Mr 4:4). Jesus' conduct in eating teaches about meal as sac-rifice. He takes the bread, looks up to heaven where his Abba Father dwells, gives thanks to him, and shares the bread with those around him generously, then pre-sumably eats along with them till finally making sure that nothing that remains goes to waste (Mt 14:19-20). While this pictures partly the proper Jewish uttering of a blessing such as "Praised be thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest forth bread from earth," Jesus portrays more faithfully and characteristi- Review for Religious cally what his Abba intended when he led his people, feeding them with manna and so training them for life. His counsel to his eager listeners on the Mount is not to worry about food and drink. His words are meant to uplift them with the realization of their blessings on any given day, making of it a sacrifice of praise and grati-tude. The same spirit suffuses the prayer Jesus taught people to pray: "Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread" (Lk 11:2-3). Because our daily meals are ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and.uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father, Jesus began his unique sacrifice at an ordinary, if festive, meal, his last meal before he died. And there he bequeathed his new sacrifice in the form of a unique meal. It is with the same inspiration that he spoke of the heavenly life with God as a banquet of communion with God and all God's beloved (Mt 8:11, 22:2). What happens when, thinking of a penitential aspect of sacrifice, we lose sight of the sublime aspect of eat-ing and drinking? One answer is that then we cannot fully engage in the divine mystery of our Christian sac-rifice. We would even act contrary to the spirit of the sacrifice when we are not celebrating the Liturgy for-mally. The Corinthians did this, as Paul reminded them. When they came together for the Lord's Supper, they did not wait for the Lord. Paul says: "When you meet together, it is not the Lord's Supper that you eat. For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal, and one is hungry and another is drunk" (1 Co 11:20-21). To spell out an implication in Paul's words, ordinary human meals should be much like the Lord's Supper. There is or should be etiquette and the spirit of sacrifice in every ordinary meal. 361 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters 362 The Hindu version of what happens when we do not honor the sacrificial aspect of human eating is best illustrated by a Hindu story. A man sought to know from a Hindu priest the greatest being in the universe worthy of a sacrifice. Following the clear instruction, he began offering food to the newly acquired idol in his house. One day he found a rat eating the offering. Inferring that the rat must be greater than the idol, he began making his sacrificial offering to the rat, till one day he saw a cat threatening the rat. So he began mak-ing his sacrifice to the cat. One day the man's wife saw the cat on an eating spree in the kitchen and chased it away with a stick2 Made aware of this greater power of his wife, he began making his sacrifice to her. Then one day, finding the meal she cooked and served too salty, he shouted at her. She quivered at his anger. That encounter made him feel superior to his wife, and so he began to offer food sacrificially to himself. He ate and ate until he died. Can anyone be so foolish? Not in such an obvious way, but most of us are probably about half that foolish. The really wise, of course, would know how to enjoy food and drink while recognizing that they are also part of the grateful sacrifice due to God. There is something beautiful and divine in such sacrifice pervading daily life without formal rubrics and yet illumining the rubrics of the altar. "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:31). Notes ~ There was a similar first occurrence of prayer, this one in Sanskrit, spoken by a Hindu in the Nevada State Assembly on 19 March 2007 and in the Nevada State Senate on 7 May 2007, both in Carson City. See Kaumudi USA-News, March 2007 (front page). 2 Some Muslims, however, would not agree on this. Review for Religious 3 Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 30. 4 The word derives from the Vedas, the earliest Hindu scriptures in Sanskrit. s See Bede Griffiths, A New Vision of Reality (New Delhi: Indus, 1992), pp. 58-59. 6 See John L. McKenzie, Dictionary of the Bible (Bangalore: Asian Trading Corporation, 1998), pp. 277-278. 7 Griffiths, New Vision, p. 61. The verse itself runs thus: "Nourished by your sacrifice, the Gods will grant you your heart's desires. / What a thief is he who enjoys their gifts but gives nothing in return!" (3:12). See Raimundo Panikkar et al., The Vedic Experience (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1977), p. 428. s As Jesus overturned the notion of unclean food in Jewish Pharisaism and declared all food clean (Mk 7:19), he would also declare all food good against what may be called Christian libertinism. 9 Of course, in the Pauline context the reference was to Jewish dietary laws that in Christianity were being superseded, whereas here it is the regrettable exaltation of food for food's sake. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. How do you consider grace before and after meals meaningful to your Christian living? 2. Can you explain that the Last Supper exemplifies for us how our daily meals are "ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father"? 363 68.4 2009 PATRICIA A. WITTBERG religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study More than fifteen years ago, Miriam Ukeritis csJ and David Nygren CM published their groundbreaking study, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States) In it they predicted that religious congregations had only a ten-year window of opportunity before the aging of their current members and the lack of new entrants would render them nonviable. Many resisted this prediction, refusing to believe it. Some spun visions of an alternate (and socio-logically naive) future in which religious con-gregations would expand to include married and single, vowed and nonvowed, Catholic and non-Catholic, male and female, all somehow gathered together under the aegis of a vaguely defined charism? Others, not knowing what to believe, considered religious life's future Patricia A. Wittberg SC wrote about the "recipro-cal identities" of apostolic life and consecrated life in our July-August 2002 issue. Her address remains 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Email: pwittber@iupui.edu Review for Religious something they could do litde about and focused their diminishing energies on their ministries instead. Fifteen years later, for many religious congregations, the window of opportunity appears to have closed. Few if any of their members are under the age of sixty; no one has entered for ten or even twenty years; vocation directors are burned out or depressed. Many members coverdy believe--and some openly argue--that it is use-less and unethical to invite young people to enter. It is for these congregations, especially, that I am writing this article, but I offer it as well to communities which are in less dire straits. I. believe that both could profit from the following alternative. I would like to point out a different--and more sociologically feasible--path for the future of declining religious congregations. I do not see this as replacing traditional religious life--which is thriving on a smaller scale in some (but not all) of the CMSWR congregations in the United States, and on a larger scale in Africa and South Asia. There will always be a place in the church for the traditional model of religious life. But U.S. Catholic culture is no longer as hospitable to this model as it once was. If it were, several hundred, not a few dozen, traditional religious congregations would be springing up in this country, and they would be doubling in membership every decade. Such explosive growth was the norm for religious congregations founded in the 19th century, and it obviously is not happening today. This comparative lack of interest, however, does not indicate that present-day U.S. Catholics are unspiritual heathens. They simply are not attracted to the traditional model. I believe that American Catholicism would be bet-ter served if several other versions of religious life were also available to young Catholics. By"other versions" I 68.4 2009 tVittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. 366 do not mean the lifestyles currendy being modeled by most of the non-CMSWR religious congregations. These are faring even worse than the traditionalist orders in attracting new members. Their charisms are still beau-tiful and, for the most part, still valid in today's world. But they are not being presented in a form that appeals to young Catholics today. Instead, I want to suggest a different strategy for handing on a congregation's charism to a new generation: starting one---or preferably severalmsocial-movement orga-nizations. To explain how this would work, I first need to define a few terms. Broadly considered, a social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. Examples are the civil-rights movement, the women's movement, the envi-ronmental movement, and the right-to-life movement. Each of these movements may con-tain dozens of separate social-movement organizations (SMOs) which focus on particular activities, particular groups of people, or particular issues related to the larger movement's goals. Thus, the environmental movement includes large organiza-tions like the Sierra Club, the Nature Conservancy, and Greenpeace and also many smaller groups that focus on saving the monarch butterfly, cleaning up a local river, opposing the dumping of toxic waste, and so forth.3 There have been religious social movements and, thus, religious social-movement organizations as well. In Review for Religious Protestantism, a succession of social movements called "Great Awakenings" sparked a host of religious revival groups throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, several of which developed into full-fledged denominations such as the Mormons, the Seventh-Day Adventists, and the various Pentecostal churches. In Catholicism, waves of devotionalism swept through both 17th-century France and 19th-century North America,4 spinning off pilgrim-age societies, sodalities, and prayer groups devoted to particular saints, scapulars, or novenas. These were not .religious orders at their inception, but some later did develop in that direction. Other times they simply strengthened the existing orders. I am suggesting that religious congregations con-sciously try to foster something similar today. Most still have one or more members who are passionate about meeting some particular need in today's world, be it sav-ing the environment, feeding the poor, sheltering home-less women and children, providing free medical care to the uninsured, or mentoring the spiritually searching,s Many of these members have already worked out a more or less specific theology to ground their activities and to explain how their passion fits with the congregation's charism. Some have recruited a corps of volunteers to help them in. their work. To paraphrase the famous line from MoliEre,6 they are already "forming a religious SMO without knowing it." However, these passionate members are often less connected to the rest of the con-gregation. For years, even decades, the other members may have left them alone to "do their own thing." But it is only a small step from what these indi-vidual religious are already instinctively doing, for their congregation deliberately to form and maintain several SMOs to enflesh its charism for subsequent genera- 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 368 tions. All that remains is to help each incipient group to articulate its identity publicly, to specify clearly its religious grounding in the congregation's charism, and to take specific steps to ensure its leadership continuity and stable membership. This might simply involve: ¯ Picking a name connected with both the charism of the congregation and the specific focus of the group: "Vincentian Servants of the Homeless," "Franciscan Brothers and Sisters of the Earth," "Centering Pray-ers," and so forth. ¯ Adopting an identifiable sign of group affiliation, for example, a common T-shirt or a medal. ¯ Maintaining a public-relations effort to inform potential volunteers, donors, other members of the con-gregation, and the church at large about the group's existence and to attract them to its mission. ¯ Spelling out the criteria for entering and exiting the group, expectations of membership, and ongoing group governance. Previous evidence indicates that, paradoxically, groups with more rigorous expectations are more likely to succeed than those which demand less of their adherents.7 The first two steps are relatively simple, and may already have been taken. But they are not enough. Unless some provision is made for the continuance of the SMO, it may not survive its founder's retirement. The founding brother or sister may be neither inter-ested in nor skilled at such bureaucratic maintenance activities. For the remaining steps, therefore, a religious congregation may be able to offer valuable help from its communications office (for the third task), and its leadership (for the fourth). The kind of social-movement organization I am advocating may or may not be represented by a con- Review for Religious gregation's associate program. A congregation's associ-ates could certainly be this kind of group--but only if they are organized around a readily articulated spiri-tual focus and/or apostolic activity that distinguishes associate membership from the larger call given to any Catholic. Simply stating that associates are devoted to "living the charism of the founder" is not enough. The more focused the associates' commitment--whether in monthly or weekly prayer/lectio according to the founder's spirituality, or in working on a regular basis with the vowed members in their ministry, or in staffing some auxiliary ministry that complements that of the vowed members--the more my SMO proposal here can be applied to them. Otherwise, an associateprogram will not be sufficiendy distinct from the lifestyle of non-associates to enflesh the order's charism on its own. Advantages of the SMO Model I am suggesting that some congregations--especially those whose members have tacitly abandoned the hope of attracting new vowed members--make a point of acknowledging this and then start to recruit people for their present members' particular SMOs. What would be the advantages of such a strategy? First of all, any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. The future of religious life does not rest with the tired or apathetic, but after a long period of decline many religious now are both. Most congregations have only a few members with the needed passion and enthusiasm. Moreover, these members may not all be focused on the same passion. Some may live and breathe God's call to serve the poor; others may devote their energies to preserving God's 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window Any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately ~devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. 370 creation through environmental activities; still others, with a more contemplative bent, may foster spirituality through centering prayer, pastoral counseling, or reli-gious art or music. A religious order faced with only a handful of healthy and passionate vowed members, each deeply devoted to a different passion, faces a serious dilemma. It can either focus on one of these passions to the exclu-sion of the others (which would be profoundly alien-ating to those left out), or it can try to include all of them (which dilutes the con-gregation's spe-cific identity and its ability to rally its members around a common goal). Either way, a congregation's ability to recruit to vowed membership is weakened if its remaining passion-ate members are devoted to different articulations of its charism, because its overall corporate mission identity will be weak.8 In contrast, enfleshing these articulations in several different SMOs would strengthen a congregation and improve the chances for its charism to survive. Since each SMO's participants are not necessarily vowed to the congregation, it is not only possible but desirable that several could exist under the same congregational "rOOfo''9 The more different SMOs a congregation's members "spin off," the greater the chance that one, at Review for Religious least, will catch fire. As I will argue below, this may then become the seed for the congregation's future. A second advantage of the SMO approach is that it is a sociologically feasible way of incorporating temporary members or inviting specific demographic groups into the congregation's family. The prospect of temporary membership in permanently vowed religious congrega-tions has been discussed for over thirty years without ever coming to fruition.'° This is probably a sign that the concept is unworkable. A host of decisions would need to be faced in a congregation that included both permanent and temporary members: financial expec-tations, for example, or voice and vote in chapters. Maintaining a distinction between the two groups could imply a second-class status for the temporary members; erasing the distinction would depreciate the perpetually vowed members' commitment. Also, there is not now and never has been any indi-cation that large numbers of potential entrants are clamoring for the option of temporary membership in communities with perpetual vows. If anything, the opposite is the case. In contrast, however, various lay movements that are similar to SMOs are thriving in the church--which may be a sign that the model is a more compatible and sociologically viable Way of enfleshing a religious call in today's world.'1 Lay social-movement organizations are compat-ible with temporary commitment. In fact, many actu-ally expect that their members will stay no more than three or four years. Prayer or volunteer groups specifi-cally targeting high school or college students would be examples of these. A recently begun group is the St. Joseph of Arimathea Society--groups of high school students in Cleveland and Louisville who help provide 371 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A final advantage of religious ¯ social-movement organizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. dignified and reverent funeral services for homeless peo-ple, and for murder victims and deceased old and young people whose relatives are too few or too devastated to arrange a funeral themselves. The students provide sing-ers and pallbearers, tend the "potter's field" cemetery, and collect money for flowers and grave markers. More traditional examples of student organiza-tions include prayer groups (Athletes for Christ, rosary or adoration societies) or twinning arrange-ments with a school in a poor area. There is no expectation that the students will remain members of these groups after their graduation, although they may be directed to affiliated adult groups which they may or may not choose to join. A final advantage of religious social-movement orga-nizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. While no data exist on the number of failed attempts that preceded or accompanied the suc-cessful founding of religious orders in previous centu-ries, anecdotal evidence in our histories indicates that at least as many attempts to found religious orders have failed as succeeded. This appears to be true today as well. Of the 97 new religious communities listed in the 1999 Directory of Embrging Religious Communities, 24 had dissolved by 2006, and another 21 had lost members.~2 Founding or truly refounding a religious order is a chancy business, and those who commit their lives to one of these new groups risk losing both financial security Review for Religious and mental/emotional health if they fail. Committing oneself to an SMO carries with it many fewer risks. Outcomes For those religious who are concerned for the pres-ervation of their congregation's charism, forming one or more SMOs could have several beneficial results: ¯ Social-movement organizations may be effective recruit-ment vehicles for vowed membership. With few religious teaching in Catholic schools, most young Catholics have never seen a sister or brother. And few religious inter-act with anyone younger than fifty on a deep or regu-lar basis. How can young Catholics join a lifestyle they know so little about? How can religious invite those they never see? Participating with vowed religious on an ongoing basis in a soup kitchen, a prayer group, or an ecological project will help young people get to know the religious involved--and vice versa. ¯ One particular social-movement organization may develop into the vehide that will carry a congregation's charism into the next generation, after all of the former vowed mem-bers are gone. If so, this would finally realize the inclusive ¯ scenario that the "Transformative Elements" painted for the future of religious life twenty years ago. How could anyone say that a religious charism was extinct if, instead of a small number of vowed religious, an SMO of married, single, Catholic, and non-Catholic men and women were living it out by feeding the hungry, praying a particular devotion, tutoring poor children, or in some other way were bringing the founder's original vision into the 21st century? "Life is not ended, merely changed." ¯ A truly successful social-movement organization will often, however, contain a number of members who do want to devote their entire lives to its vision. It may 373 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window be that these members will not join the original community, but will instead begin a new one. If the first community is still around at this point, their wisdom and experi-ence would be invaluable for the new group. If not, the stories of the SMO's original founder--the sister who started a free clinic in Appalachia, the brother whose soup kitchen mobilized a city to feed the poor--will serve as a template. After all, Frederick Ozanam (the founder of the St. Vincent de Paul Society) lived sev-eral centuries after Vincent himself. St. John Bosco had never met St. Francis de Sales. Throughout the millennium and a half that Catholic religious life has existed, many new religious orders or lay groups have been formed from old templates. SMOs could provide templates of this very kind. Next Steps I believe that social-movement organizations could be useful, both for religious congregations that have given up on recruiting vowed members, and also for more-viable communities that still attract some young people. For the former, it may be the last remaining way they have of passing on their charism to a new genera-tion. For the latter, it may help them attract even more new entrants. The next steps I would suggest to con-gregations wishing to found such organizations--or to foster the ones their individual members have already begun--are as follows: ¯ Take inventory of today's society: What are its deep-est needs or desires? As I have noted previously,~3 the best way to determine these needs is to look at what larger social movements are currently growing. The most pressing social movements reveal themselves by the large number of SMOs they spawn. Are there already Review for Religious a lot of small environmental groups? Prayer groups? Adoration groups? Groups working with the poor? Women's groups? Check out the directory of associa-tions on the Internet Public Library (http://www.ipl. org/div/aon/)to find out. Is there room for another SMO, locally, in this movement? For example, is there a group that the movement currently does not reach, such as Hispanics or high school youth? Is there a new tactic or way of addressing the issue that existing SMOs do not use? Could adding your congregation's spirituality or charism deepen commitment to the social movement? ¯ Take inventory of your congregation: Who are your passionate members? What are their passions? How, if at all, do these passions relate to the charism of your founder? What larger social movements do these pas-sions relate to? Are your community's passionate mem-bers interested in leading or organizing a group to assist them in their work? Or, better, have they already done so? Are other members in your congregation interested in helping them? ¯ What does the group still need in order to succeed? Does it need to expand its pool of potential volunteers? Secure more stable funding? Plan for the founder's retirement? What is the optimum size for the group? Would expansion be good for it--or dilute its unique character? If the latter, can the group's model be "fran-chised" in some way, with separate independent chap-ters in various cities?14 ¯ What assistance can the congregation render? Can your communications office help to publicize the group? Can your vocation personnel and/or associates help locate new volunteers? Does the group need a place to meet? Need mentoring in finances or grant writing? What about retreats or prayer days on the charism? And 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 376 who in the congregation could provide these services? A weakness in any new religious organization is its "liabil-ity of newness," which may lead to mistakes that imperil its very survival. A more experienced mentor could be a tremendous help. It is obvious by now that religious life is at the end of one of the cyclic downturns which have recurred over the centuries. Rather than resign ourselves to our "inev-itable" extinction--and thereby create a self-fulfilling prophecy--I think we should notice that the SMO model offers a way to midwife the new forms of religious life that will thrive and grow in the years ahead. The many permutations of this model already appearing--associ-ate programs, lay ecclesial movements, mixed emerg-ing communities--are foreshadowings, I believe, of an absorbing future. This is true even if most of them fail, as new ventures often do. More will continue to spring up until some "get it right." With their centuries-long experience and the passions of at least some of their vowed members, today's religious congregations could help in this rebirth. Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993). 2 A good example would be the third and fourth of the so-called "Transformative Elements" developed by the joint CMSM/LCWR meet-ing in Louisville in 1989--and cited on pp. 255 and following of Nygren and Ukeritis's book. Supposedly, this is what religious life would look like in the year 2010. In hindsight, it reflects more wishful thinking than any real-world trends for vowed religious life. 3 Fora fuller discussion of social movements and social-movement organizations, see my Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), chap. 4. 4 See Elizabeth Rapley, The D~votes: Women and Church in Seventeenth Review for Religious Century France (Montreal: McGill-Queens University Press, 1990), and Anne Taves, The Household of Faith: Roman Catholic Devotions in Nineteenth Century America (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986), for these waves of devotionalism. s My own congregation has individual sisters--of whom I am extremely proud--deeply involved in all of these activities. 6 Or maybe not so famous--the citation refers to a line from Moli~re's comedy Le bourgeois gentilhomme, in which a nouveau riche man is being tutored in literature and discovers that he has been speak-ing prose all of his life without knowing it. 7 See, e.g., Rodney Stark and Roger Finke, Acts of Faith: Explaining the Human Side of Religion (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), chap. 7. 8 According to the Nygren and Ukeritis study, mission identity is the principal variable influencing a congregation's success (see pp. 97-98). 9 Several religious families have known this instinctively. For exam-ple, my own Vincentian tradition includes, not only the Congregation of the Mission, the Daughters of Charity, and the various Sister of Charity Federation congregations, but also the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Ladies of Charity, Vincentian Marian Youth, the Association of the Miraculous Medal, and the Missionary Cenacle, all of which are move-ment organizations of nonvowed laypersons. Similarly the Salesian family includes, not only the Salesian priests and Visitation nuns, but other vowed religious such as the Sisters of Mary Help of Christians, the Missionaries of St. Francis, the Salesian Missionaries of Mary Immaculate, and the Oblate Sisters of St. Francis de Sales, plus lay groups such as the Association of St. Francis de Sales and the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales. to I am not referring here to societies of apostolic life like the Daughters of Charity, who make annual vows, but rather to including an option for temporary membership in congregations whose members are now expected to make perpetual vows. Moreover, even among the Daughters of Charity, there is the assumption that one's annual vows are really for life. ~' According to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), Emerging Communities of Consecrated Life in the United States (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2006, p. 16), ten of the twelve most rapidly growing new indigenous emerging communities in the U.S. are mixed communities with some, or all, lay members. t2 CAP, A, Emerging Communities, p. 16. 377 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New V~ndow ,3 Wittberg, Pathways, pp. 80-85. ,4 The above-mentioned St. Joseph of Arimithea Society seems to operate through "franchises"--the Cleveland and Louisville chapters appear to be separate from each other. Many.other groups enlisting high school or college students operate similarly. A Sampler of Potential (and Actual) Religious SMOs 1. "Franchised" Youth Groups (local school chapters, perhaps with a national headquarters supplying materials or training) a. Volunteers supporting a local soup kitchen b. A high school or college centering-prayer group c. Group spiritual direction, big brother/sister spiritual mentoring d. Adoration societies, sodalities 2. Ministry Groups (non-age-specific, perhaps linked nationally in a network or association) a. Supporting crisis pregnancies b. Companioning the dying c. Running a women's shelter d. Strengthening marriages 3. Spirituality Groups (may have a centralized head-quarters and/or a youth branch - see #1, above) a. Devotion to a particular saint b. Performance of a particular spiritual practice (Eucharistic adoration, centering prayer, pilgrimages) c. Spiritual mentoring, group spiritual direction 4. Lifestyle Groups a, Simple living b. Intentional communities c. Peace and reconciliation Review for Retigious WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Religious Identity mnthe years following the Second Vatican Council, uch attention was focused on changes in religious life. Much writing and much effort have been directed toward rethinking or reimaging religious life. In light of all that, one might be tempted to say "Enough already!" An old saying has it that familiarity breeds contempt. Familiarity can also breed complacency and neglect. It might be good, then, to look once again at what it means to be a religious, to reflect on our religious iden-tity. Besides the decree on the renewal of religious life, Perfectae caritatis, Vatican Council II also spoke of the role of religious in Lumen gentium, the dogmatic con-stitution on the church. In chapter 6, §44, we read that the religious state "manifests in a special way that the kingdom of God and its high requirements transcend all earthly considerations, bringing home to all people William P. Clark OMI, longtime teacher and administrator, lives at St, Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. 379 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the immeasurable greatness of the power of Christ in his sovereignty and the infinite might of the Holy Spirit marvelously working in the church.'" The council is simply saying religious life gives special witness that, above and beyond earthly values, there is something we call the kingdom of God. While religious life's characteristic witness is spe-cial, it is not exclusive. It is the duty of all Christians to give witness to the kingdom of God. All Christians, be they lay or religious, are committed to living out their baptismal consecration. Emphasis on the common voca-tion of all Christians highlights what is of fundamental importance, the fullness of Christian life informed by charity. That emphasis also counteracts any tendency to draw unfavorable comparisons between the lay and religious states, as though laypersons are somehow sec-ond- class citizens or "children of a lesser God." That broad emphasis on all Christian life is rooted in the most ancient tradition of monasticism. In his masterful study The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers, Louis Bouyer finds certain constants in the literature of monasticism. He affirms them because they were some-what obscured by later developments. One such insight is that the primitive monk did not appear special. Whether by himself or others, his vocation was not considered par-ticular or exceptional. The monk was simply a Christian, a devout layperson who took the most radical means to live the Christian life to the fullest. The monk proposed no other end than to be saved. All his life, the monk asked for no other teaching from his elders than the means of attaining that goal. His fundamental and persistent ques-tion was: "Tell me. How can I be saved?" Two points need emphasis. First, holiness, the fullness of Christian life, is not something reserved Review for Religious to religious, while laypersons are called to something less. Second, religious are to focus on the essential, on the search for union with God, and not see holi-ness as something incidental or distinctive which sets them apart from "ordinary" Christians. Fundamental to religious identity is one's identity as a Christian. It is the fullness of the Christian experience that constitutes Christian identity. There are three major elements in the Christian expe-rience. The first is not distinctively Christian. It is the human preamble. It consists in discovering that human happiness and fulfillment are not brought about by tak-ing. We all start out that way, looking for that certain something or combination of things which, if we could only latch on to it and make it our own, would provide fulfillment. The Christian experience becomes possible once we realize that what we really seek is something or someone to give ourselves to, something or someone greater and nobler than ourself. It is a search for some-thing or someone that will endow our life with meaning and purpose. Finding that something or someone is the beginning of faith as a lived reality. It becomes the basis of all commitment worthy of the name. The second element makes the experience specifi-cally Christian. It consists in finding that greater-than-self reality in the person of Jesus Christ. It is finding in his words meaning for our life. It is finding in his life the pattern and model for our own. The third element is the desire to share what we have found. We want others to find the meaning and purpose that have become our own. We want to live out this meaning and purpose in love for one another. The full Christian experience, then, is apostolic and missionary. 381 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Reli#ous Identity 382 If this Christian experience is not real in our lives, no amount of theorizing about what it is or should be will ever make it so. Furthermore, theorizing will not help much in our lives as religious. If the Christian experience is real, it can be progressively liberating, freeing from all those attitudes of mind and spirit that limit us to operating within the narrow confines of self-ish interests. Like all Christians, religious are to give witness by their lives to the possibilities open to everyone for liber-ation from enslaving attitudes like inordinate ambition, defensiveness, possessiveness, self-pity, and cynicism. The life of religious should also be an active witness to joy, to hope, and to love. The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that peo-ple often try to evade its challenge. In doing so, lay-persons sometimes say that holiness is something for religious and priests, not for "ordinary" persons like themselves. Likewise, religious sometimes find a type of escape through dependence on the system. Religious life involves a kind of system that includes public vows, constitutions and rules, and a goodly number of prac-tices found in the traditions of various religious insti-tutes. We might think just plugging into the system will make us as holy as we need to be. It is easy to just coast along. All too easily we can come to rate as virtue whatever is conformable to our religious surroundings. Custom and routine can so enslave us as to dispense us from personal decision. Of course, custom and routine, as well as the regular practices and exercises of religious life, are also great helps--if we understand and use them righdy. They do not, however, carry us all the way. They reflect the fact Review for Religious that in choosing to be religious we have set the direction of our lives. But they do not guarantee we never lose that direction. The need for ongoing renewal is simply the need to reaffirm, to reset our direction. The human condition is such that nothing can be taken for granted except the constancy of God's grace, of his invitation. Another point on which the council spoke explic-itly is religious consecration. Everyone of the faithful is consecrated to the divine service by baptism. Clearly, in various contexts the word "consecration" has various meanings, causing difficulties to be raised about how this idea applies to religious. In address-ing those difficulties, the council begins by relating religious con-secration to baptism. Religious consecra-tion adds nothing to the baptism's sacramental character. It is, however, in the line of baptismal grace. That grace can be lived in varying degrees of intimacy. The coun-cil speaks of religious as being "more intimately conse-crated to the divine service." That phrase is significant. It does not say "more strictly" or anything that might seem to emphasize some form of legal obligation. What the council points out by those words is that baptismal consecration can be interiorized to a greater or lesser extent by grace and by love. Ultimately, the truth of every Christian life consists in one's baptismal consecration. But God calls people to live out that consecration in different ways. For religious The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that people often try to evade its challenge. 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the call to God's service is more explicitly determined. It takes on a particular form or style. To put that a bit differently, for religious the vital response called for by God's loving initiative is made concrete in a specific and distinctive way. By making a certain explicit profession of the evan-gelical counsels, persons technically become religious. The purpose of such profession is to commit ourselves more explicitly and more profoundly to living our bap-tismal consecration. At one time religious profession was commonly called "a new baptism" in homilies at profession ceremonies. In those days it was not always adequately explained. The council statements revitalized and clarified that idea. In reflecting on religious consecration, it is important to realize that such consecration is the work of God. Virtually every page of Scripture speaks of God's initiative in regard to creatures. Jesus told his disciples: "You have not chosen me. I have chosen you." Passages like that have a particular resonance for religious. It is God who calls religious and consecrates them through the church's ministry. Because it is God's work, religious consecration is permanent. God's choice and God's fidelity are unchanging. God is constant in the grace he offers, in his call. Our challenge is to keep trying to respond generously to that call. Religious consecration represents a special instance of the mysterious interaction between grace and human freedom. Obviously it is essential that those consecrat-ing themselves to God's service be free. At the same time we must recognize that the consecration is ulti-mately God's work. Religious profession has never been considered a sacrament by the church. In recent years many things have been referred to as "sacraments," in a broad sense Review for Religiot~s of the word. In the strict sense, religious profession is not a sacrament. That does not mean, however, that religious profession has no reality beyond the disposi-tion and conduct of the subject. Religious consecration is something accorded to free persons precisely as free. To be received, the consecra-tion requires a personal response to God's call. That response includes certain characteristics. It must be sufficiently enlightened, conscious, and free. A person's intention and the vows which formulate that intention are eminently free acts. Conversely, when the church dispenses from vows, she judges that in reality there was some impediment to freedom in the original profes-sion, something lacking in what was offered for divine consecration. The fact that religious consecra-tion is not a sacrament does not mean nothing more is involved than the liberty of the one making vows. On God's part the engagement is indefectible. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a cer-tain manner of life. Each vocation has its own structure and laws. Those laws are not to be understood as some-thing imposed from the outside. They derive from the very nature of the life in question. To ignore structure and laws proper to religious life would be to think of reli-gious life as funny putty which can take on any shape one gives it. History shows significant variations in the forms of religious life. But, in the last analysis, that life must always be directly related to what is most fundamental in Christianity, the search for God and growth in charity. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a certain manner of life. 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Religious Identity In the Christian understanding of life, the goal is progress in charity. Jesus made it clear that love of God and love of neighbor sum up the whole law. Love gives ultimate value to what we do. That is why religious con-secration is wholly directed towards love of God and neighbor. It is precisely that love which gives the value of consecration to the activity of the religious. The idea that one's activities must continuously be animated by charity is certainly not new. We have heard it countless times in one form or another. Nor is it distinctive. It is true for everyone. By religious profession we are committed to that goal more explicitly, more officially, as it were. On the part of religious, the consecration of one's life consists in using distinctive means for achieving the common Christian goal of progress in charity. My cir-cumstances, my state of life, determine the means that are most appropriate for me. Jacques Maritain offered an excellent definition of means. He said means are the end in the process of coming to be. Thus, at each moment of our journey toward the perfection of love, we make that end real by employing the appropriate means, Perhaps we should emphasize the word "journey." While we hope we are on the right road and we try to keep moving in the right direction, we never reach the end, the perfection of love, in this life. Another way to put that is to say that holiness is not so much a place we arrive as it is the way we travel. Consciousness of our shortcomings and failures makes us reluctant to think of ourselves as holy. A num-ber of years ago Archbishop John Roach of St. Paul, in a pastoral letter on spirituality titled A Friendship Unlimited, offered a valuable insight in this regard. He wrote: "It's a funny thing, but for years I couldn't imag- Review for Religious ine thinking of myself as holy. I was equating holiness with perfection, and I knew I simply didn't have that. It is clear to me now that holiness is the desire to be a friend of Jesus Christ and to surrender my will to God. I may stumble along with that. I have so far--but, so long as I continue a sincere effort toward that goal, I am holy." It might help also to remind ourselves of one charac-teristic of holiness that is often overlooked. It is compat-ible with human frailty. Many stories and most statues of saints give a wrong impression, an impression of otherworldliness that obscures the fact that those saints were real human beings with human faults and weak-nesses. Examples are plentiful. St. Augustine was given to rages. St. Thtr~se of Lisieux had bouts of depression. St. Vincent de Paul, the great saint of charity, was said to be bilious and subject to fits of anger. St. Jerome was aggressive and insulting to persons who disagreed with him. In fact, one of his contemporaries said of Jerome that his malice was such that no saint could live within miles of him. The secret of all of those people is that they never gave up struggling and working to overcome their human weaknesses. They knew what counts is not the triumphant victory of total perfection, but persevering effort. Teresa of Avila said we should strive and strive and strive, for we were made for nothing else. She was right, of course, but the way she said it makes it sound hard. And it is a constant challenge. We cannot gloss over that. But I like the way T.S. Eliot put it when he said: "We are only undefeated because we keep 6n trying." In question 186 of the Secunda Secundae of his Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas treats of things that per-tain to the religious state. He speaks at length of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and argues their ,387 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity necessity for religious perfection. He points out that "a person cannot offer his whole life to God directly because that life is not lived all at once, but only suc-cessively. Hence, a person can only offer his whole life to God through the obligation imposed by vows" (my translation). Thus, our real challenge is not the perfor-mance of heroic acts, however beautiful, however noble, for every human act is by nature transitory. Our real challenge is the heroism of a whole life, offered to God without measure, without reservation, without regret. This is done through religious consecration, through the vows. And in this the entire person, mind and heart, must be involved and permanently involved. Note ' The Vatican translation and the revised Flannery translation, melded. See Lumen gentium, chapter 6, §44: "Regni Dei denique super omnia terrestria elevationem eiusque summas necessitudines peculiari modo patefacit [status religiosus]; supereminentem quoque magnitudi-nem virtutis Christi regnantis atque infinitam Spiritus Sancti potentiam in Ecclesia mirabiliter operantem, cunctis hominibus demonstrat." Ed. 388 Questions for Personal and Group Reflection If religious sisters and brothers are identified with the laity, how do you claim their special religious identity? 2. Has Clark been helpful in underlining aspects of religious identity that distinguish religious life for priests, sisters, and brothers? Would you want to add or subtract anything? Review for Religious LEO J. HERIOT Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Saul was present at the stoning of the lov-able Stephen, and perhaps this increased the Pharisee's desire for Christian blood. Fernand Prat says, "Not content with being present at the torture of the victims, he entered into houses and dragged out the inmates, both men and women, to hale them to the dungeons."' Saul set out on the trail of Christians not to evangelize them but in pursuit of them to bring them to what he thought was justice. He had asked the priests to give him the offi-cial mission to seek out Jesus' disciples in the synagogue of Damascus and drag them before the Sanhedrin. In the Acts of the Apostles we have three accounts of the vision on the way to Damascus (9:1-19; 22:3-21; 26:12-20). It is Luke who makes the first announcement of Leo J. Heriot SDB wrote for us about Margaret Bosco in 2007. His address is now Don Bosco House; PMB Government Buildings; Suva, Fiji-Islands. exemplars of faith 389 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late this event; later we hear Paul giving his own account. The accounts agree on the important points: the occa-sion, the place, the time of day, the dazzling light, Saul's fall to the ground, his dialogue with the mysterious voice, his blindness, the return of his sight, and the total change in his life. From being a firebrand of a persecutor, he became a sower of the Good News of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The whole change of his behavior, his heeding of the strong voice's words, and his subsequent dedica-tion to a new cause make us aware that he was not led by fanaticism or goaded on by personal ambition. Jesus Christ seized him, pulled him close to himself. From the accounts of this conversion, nothing presaged it, noth-ing hinted that the fierce Pharisee would change regard-ing this person Jesus Christ, changing and becoming a disciple of Jesus and a preeminent apostle. Looking at this conversion, one gets the impression that it is beyond human explanation. It would be folly to try to find some simple plausible human causality. Pauline theology gives pride of place to the empow-erment of grace, and Saul was certainly under the influence of grace. It is not possible to explain this con-version apart from divine grace. Paul helps us with these assertions from his writings: "Have I not seen Jesus, our Lord?" (1 Co 9:1). "Last of all, as one untimely born, he appeared also to me" (1 Co 15:8). Grace found in this man fertile soil that would produce a great extension of the stoW of Jesus, a stoW that would make people aware of the immense, unfolding gift God gave to Saul and to the world on Saul's way to Damascus. Saul's encounter with the risen Lord as he sought to obliterate that Lord's message had a huge influence on him. One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound Review for Religious teachings was that of Christians' being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. For this Pharisee, Paul, Christ becomes all in all; Christ becomes everything. This idea is contained in seminal form in the question Jesus puts to the blinded Saul: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" (Ac 9:4). Paul was not attacking Jesus directly; he was defending his Pharisaism by trying to prevent Jews from falling into the ways of this crucified "reformer" of Judaism. In Saul's conversion God's grace is evident, work-ing a transformation immediately. It is like the blinding flash of light. The extraordinary illumination appar-ently brought about Saul's immediate com-pliance with Jesus' words and his swift transformation into a disciple and apostle. The stunned Saul changed his course once and for all. He found himself in a new world, a world almost alien to the life he had lived until then. Paul was overwhelmed by a new faith, a belief in the person of Jesus Christ as his Lord and master. He began a new and demanding life that only a strong and deep faith and love could sustain. He expresses that faith in his Letters to the Galatians and the Romans, an active faith that revolutionizes the whole person and alters the direction of people's lives. From the moment of his conversion the gaze of Saul is riveted on the person of Jesus Christ. We would go too far, however, if we reduced Paul's life to the moment One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound teachings was that of Christians" being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. 391 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late of his conversion. His continuing deep reflection on the mystery of God's love strengthened him as he went about his apostolic life. Our beliefs, too, are not simply the result of our reading or reflection, but come from God's communication with us, often in the quiet con-templation of a Divine Master stretching out his hand to us and telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 392f The Boy from Becchi, Another Man of Zeal In an audience on 21 March 1858, Pope Pius IX, now Blessed, told the priest from Turin: "When you get back to Turin, Don Bosco, you write down these dreams and everything else you have told me, minutely, and in their natural sense. Save all this as a legacy for your Congregation so that it may serve as an encouragement and norm for your Sons.''2 After nine years this same pope questioned him once again. Don Bosco's reply was "I truthfully lacked the time. I was so taken with [any number of things]." The pope said, "Well then, I not only advise you, but order you to do it." Don Bosco promised to write down his early experiences, and he kept his word.3 In his poor handwriting Don Bosco scrawled out his first dream. "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life. I dreamed I was near my house at Becchi, and a crowd of young boys had gathered there to have fun and play games. Some were playing, some were laughing, and not a few were cursing. Shocked by their expres-sions, I jumped in among the boys, swinging wildly and shouting at them to stop saying those things. At that moment a Person appeared among us. He was dressed in a long white robe, and his face radiated such light Review for Religious that I could not look at it. Suddenly he called me by name. 'Giovanni, you have to win these boys not by blows but with gendeness and kindness (bont~). So begin right now to show them that evil is ugly and virtue is beautiful.'" Although these words confused him, this little boy, nine years old in 1824, was being commissioned for God's work. He said, "I am so small and these are young men. What you are asking me to do seems to be impos-sible." But he was told: "What seems so impossible, you must achieve by being obedient and acquiring knowledge." The boy shouted, "You ask me to do the impossible!" The voice said, "I will give you a teacher under whose guid-ance you will learn and without whose help all knowl-edge becomes foolishness." Beside this Person stood the Lady to whom young Bosco's mother had taught him to pray regularly. The Lady, taking his hand, said, "Giovanni, look carefully. What do you see?" The crowd of boys was changed into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and various other animals. The Lady of his dream said to him, startlingly: "This is your field of labor." Then she gave him a one-word recipe for getting these boys to improve: "amorevolezza" (loving concern). The wild animals disappeared, having been turned into sheep. The Lady then told him, "In due time you will understand," and with that she put her hand on his head. At table for morning coffee he told his family about his dream. Each one said something different. His "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life." 393 68.4 2009 Heriot * Encounters Early and Late brother Joseph said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become a farmer looking after sheep and goats, caring for them." His brother Anthony said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become the leader of a gang of ban-dits!" After other such remarks, their wise old grand-mother said in an authoritarian tone: "Giovanni, take no notice of dreams." And Mama Margaret said con-vincingly, "Prepare yourself, Giovanni, for your future apostolate." This, then, is what Pope Pius IX referred to in 1858 when he told Don Bosco: "This is the begin-ning and the foundation of your work. Give this dream to your Congregation and make it a part of their life." On the road to Damascus, Paul was astonished by the voice that changed his life. It had the power to change his life and send him on a new mission. While any comparison of nine-year-old John Bosco's dream to Paul's experience near Damascus would be lopsided, we may remind ourselves that both of them were impelled into a new life, a new apostolate, by mysterious expe-riences beyond usual explanation. Are there not many other divinely wondrous experiences as well? Why not keep them in mind? Notes ~ Fernand Prat, The Theology of St. Paul (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), p. 25. 2 The Biographical Memoirs ofSaintJohn Bosco, ed. Eugene Ceria SDB (New Rochelle, New York: Salesiana Publishers, 1980), vol. 5, p. 577. 3 Ceria, Biographical Memoirs, vol. 1. pp. 95-96. Review for Religious HILDA KLEIMAN On Hilda of Whitby ~ah~na tIr oennt eorre da tfheea msto dnaayst.e Ir yw, Ia hs ando nt orta cisheodse an Catholic, and I was not named after a saint, though I had a lovely name. After I entered, the prioress asked me to choose a patron, and I chose St. Hilda of Whitby. Initially I hesitated to choose her because, generally speaking, we do not know much about her. We know when she was born and died, where she lived, and some of the activities she pursued, activities for which she was well known and respected. But we know little about her character, her spirit, or her inner life. How did the tone of a gathering change when she walked into a room? How did she regard those whose lives and souls were entrusted to her care? Was her glance warm or cool? Did she have a glint in her eye? Answers to these ques-tions seemed permanently unavailable. A few months after I entered my community, I attended a concert given by Festival Chorale Oregon, Hilda Kleiman OSB writes from Queen of Angels Monastery; 840 S. Main Street; Mt. Angel, Oregon 97362. Email: ajkjune@juno.com 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby a local, award-winning choir directed by Dr. Solveig Holmquist. I had been a student in her college choir for three years at Western Oregon University. I was excited to see her again, even from a distance, even from the back as she conducted the choir. When she entered the concert hall, she was as I had remembered--not tall or physically imposing, yet filled with a presence that shot through her spiky hair, her sharp eyes, and her earrings and many bracelets. I saw a woman in full possession of herself and the situation at hand. She stood before the choir and the orchestra, and they knew what to do sim-ply by the movements of her hands and a thin baton. I remembered standing before her with my eyes on every move she made. In every gesture, every expression, she embodied musician and conductor. She made the vocalists and musicians one as we let her lead us--as, with our minds but also our hearts, we let her be our breath to the very last note. When Dr. Holmquist arrived at Western, she had clearly learned how to draw people together. Shortly after being hired, she was told there were no students at Western who could really sing. Given that this was untrue, and even uncharitable, Dr. Holmquist did not listen. She simply set up a table at the activities fair at the beginning of the school year and started signing students up for auditions. By the end of the year, she had set the choral music program on its feet, doubling the size of the choir, planning tours, and establishing a student-led choir council. I began to see that music was Dr. Holmquist's life, and part of that life was invit-ing the rest of us into the music in whatever way was appropriate for each of us. I loved her for it, and I still do. Though I do not think I would have used the word at the time, I see now Review for Religious that what I received from Dr. Holmquist was a deep and vigorous image of vocation. I have no doubt that through the music she is doing what God created her to do. Shortly before I graduated, I tried to say as much to her. In her office one morning, I described what I saw in her. I said I was not a born musician like her, but rather a writer and a reader, and I was looking for my own purpose in life. The day I attended the Festival Chorale concert was November 17th, the feast day of St. Hilda, and the first time I observed her feast day as my own. As I watched and remembered Dr. Holmquist, some of the reasons why I choose Hilda began to emerge. It was not about wanting to be an abbess as Hilda was, any more than it was about wanting to be a cho- , ral conductor. It was not about imitation in such a specific sense, but about living in the presence of someone who could play a part in calling me to be who I am supposed to be and to do what I am meant to do. It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. If I imagined myself as a member of Hilda's monastery, much as I had been a member of Dr. Holmquist's choir, what could I learn about who I am supposed to be here and now? It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. 397 The Venerable Bede, an English monk and writer of the 8th century, is our sole source of historical infor- 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby marion on Hilda. After serving as the abbess of several monasteries, she established at Whitby a double monas-tery, a community of monks and nuns. In his history of the English church, Bede tells us she taught those within her community to study the Scriptures thoroughly, to observe good works, and to foster many virtues, "but especially peace and charity." In part, the influence of her goodness was seen in the five outstanding men from her monastery who became bishops. In addition to her own monks and nuns, others from all walks of society sought her direction. In this way Hilda, "whom all her acquaintances called Mother because of her wonderful devotion and grace," guided many people to God along the path of their particular gifts and circumstances. Bede also gives us the story of Caedmon, a shy sheep-herder whom "God's grace made remarkable." One night Caedmon received a vision from God in which a man asked him to compose and sing him a song. Caedmon answered that he could not sing, and the man replied "But you shall sing to me," and he did, thus becom-ing the first poet of the English language. When Hilda learned of Caedmon's gift, she invited him to become a monk and be instructed in sacred history, which he then rendered into beautiful music and poetry. Caedmon soon became not just a poet but a disciplined and beloved member of the community as well. At his death he asked if there were any who held any ill will against him, and he was assured that there was not. When then asked if he was at peace with those attending him, he replied, "I am at peace with all the servants of God." Among well-known events of church history, Whitby is known as the site of the synod in 664 at which the controversy between the Celtic and Roman dates for observing Easter was resolved. The problem disturbed Review for Religious many people, Bede tells us, even to the point that they feared "that they might have received the name Christian in vain." Those arguing for the Roman date were victo-rious, yet Bede describes Hilda and her community as favoring the Celtic practice. While he tells us the results of the synod, Bede does not describe Hilda's response to the decision. We do not know if in the end she was saddened, relieved, or pleased. From what we do know about her leadership, however, we can perhaps assume that many looked to Hilda for guidance as to how they should respond to this decision. We can see the great respect she had for the Scriptures and the wisdom of the church. We can see that she taught those around her to be of service in all peace and charity. Even as she neared her death, she urged those in her monastery to "maintain the gospel peace among themselves and with others." I imagine that Hilda had a profound sense of perspective, of knowing, in the end, which beliefs and practices held priority. Unity within the church mat-tered more than any particular date, and gracious accep-tance of the decision of the synod mattered more than the content of the arguments. I was aware of St. Hilda before I was a Catholic because I attended St. Hilda's Episcopal Church for sev-eral years during high school and college. St. Hilda's is a small community; the church holds perhaps fifty peo-ple on a Sunday. I met the vicar, Noel Knelange, when I first arrived, and about a year later Noel's husband Bill was ordained a deacon. I attended the ordination and sang in the choir, helping to lead the congregation out of the church singing "The King's Highway" for the recessional. During the service I was taken aback 399 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Whitby Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without~ pretense; connected ~that image, to me, 400] by the beauty of the liturgy and the fact that Bill was grounding his life and identity in his faith. Somehow God wanted him. God wanted exactly who Bill was, a middle-aged man, a deaf man deeply involved with the deaf community of the diocese, a man who loved to fish so much that during the homily the bishop gave him a new fishing pole, now that he would be a fisher of men. Afterwards, during the reception in the parish hall, I was standing near Bill and Noel, probably eating a cookie, when Noel turned to me and said, "Well, you could do this too you know!" What? I did not want to be a deacon or a priest. I did not understand why she said that, and we never talked about it later. I forgot about Noel's words until after I had become a Catholic and been a member of the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel, Oregon, for several years--even though I had often wondered when the thought of becoming a nun first came to me. Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without pretense, connected that image to me. The seed of the idea of staking everything on "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen," as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews, was planted and would take root in ways I never suspected. Just a few years Review for Religious later, I was led to the Catholic Church, to a Benedictine monastery, and to a surprising new relationship with St. Hilda, a relationship reflected in women like Solveig Holmquist and Noel Knelange. Regardless of whether they were aware of all the details, they could and would change the course of a life in a single breath, with a single word. The name Hilda comes from the Old English and means "Battle Maiden," a fact I learned only after I received the official word from .the prioress that I could take Hilda as my new name at my final profession. I took to the image of the Battle Maiden immediately--the tension between toughness and gentleness, knowledge and innocence, between what we think we know and what we in fact do not, a tension not to be resolved but used as ingeniously as possible until the day of death. Other people have taken to my choice of the name Hilda, to the "Batde Maiden" too. "Battle on, maiden!" says my mom before she hangs up the phone. After ask-ing me to explain the meaning of Hilda to my class-mates, one of my seminary professors warns that "from now on, you gendemen better look out!" The best, how-ever, is my friend Ania. With her I have established The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens. We have taken as our charter the words of St. Paul to the Corinthians: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies." To bet- 401 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby ter understand our society, I have listed qualities of the Battle Maiden, which include the following and will surely be added to as I ponder this further: ¯ A persistent love, grounded in the love of God that pursues us without end. She can keep extending her love for other people, regardless of how they respond, if at all. If she feels hurt by this, she takes it to mean that her efforts were not the most gracious way to love this particular person, and it is time to try something else. She is intelligent, so her persistence does not suggest beating her head against a wall, but rather keeping her wits about her and being willing, always willing, to try again. ¯ The beginning of an understanding of the fourth step of humility in the Rule of St. Benedict: "The fourth step of humility is that, in this obedience under diffi-cult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his [or her] heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape." She does not, in the end, resent that this step asks her to endure injustice, even contradiction, for the sake of the God she loves. She accepts that sometimes such endurance will require her to speak her mind, to name what is difficult, recognizing that endurance can be more than just waiting for the bad to run its course. Bravery of heart becomes part of her core. She understands that false sisters and broth-ers (and are not we all false and contradictory at one time or another) are part of reality; to deny this is of no use to anyone. She uses their words and actions to strengthen her reliance on the Lord so that it remains possible for her to pray for her enemies. ¯ An enduring kindness that she tries to exercise in any situation, par.ticularly in her words. At times, she may manifest her kindness in ways that are more tra- Review for Religious ditionally recognized as kindness--offering to lend a hand in household tasks, greeting guests with courtesy and assisting them in their needs, acknowledging the accomplishments of others with a sincere compliment. Kindness, however, is also needed in more challenging situations. It is a kindness to try to change the sub-ject when she hears murmuring or gossip about some-one who is not present. It is a kindness to walk away and not participate even by listening when this tactic fails, perhaps biting back the words rising in her throat that she would like to put everyone in their place with. Kindness calls her to address only in private any embar-rassing situations that involve another person, so as not to worsen the pain her words would likely cause if spo-ken publicly. To enjoy membership in The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens, you and I do not need to be in full possession of these qualities. We do need, however, to recognize their worth and strive to live with their inher-ent tensions, tensions that in the end are simply the tensions of the cross. Image Bearer One of a kind, Here for a reason, Plucked from the mire, Now wearing white, Bearing His likeness, I am immortal, A soul crafted By the Holy. Teresa Burleson 403 68.4 2009 Vv'ILLIAM PROSPERO World Youth Day and Religious Life sharing experience 40_4] Many vocation directors will confirm that a substantial number of candidates for seminar-ies and institutes of consecrated life consider a World Youth Day (WYD) experience to have been an important part of their discernment. Many candidates say they first thought seri-ously about religious life or the priesthood while on a WYD pilgrimage. What is it about WYD that promotes consecrated life? Sister Joseph Andrew, of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, asked me to speak about this very topic at a recent discernment retreat at the motherhouse in Ann Arbor. No less than a hundred 'thirty young women attended. When I asked how many had been to WYD, about one third raised their hands. The main reason for "only" a third, I William Prospero SJ is pastor of St. Mary's University Parish (on the campus of Central Michigan University); 1405 South Washington; Mount Pleasant, Michigan 48858. Emaih will.prospero@stmarycmu.org Review for Religious believe, is that most of them were too young to have attended any other WYD than the one in 2008 in Sydney, Australia. Sydney did not draw huge numbers from the United States because of the travel cost. Nonetheless, many of the young women present had managed to attend that WYD. I believe there are several reasons why WYD pro-motes consecrated life and priesthood. Though I do not have any statistical analysis to prove my points, I have a wealth of experience assisting young WYD pil-grims in their discernment about consecrated life or priesthood. I have attended four WYDs: Denver (1993), Toronto (2002), Cologne (2005), and Sydney (2008). I have served as a priest on the last three. I have wit-nessed more than ten pilgrims enter religious life or the seminary. The main reason, I believe, for the wealth of WYD vocations is that WYD gives a taste of life as a conse-crated person. Pilgrims experience about two weeks of consecrated living. WYD provides a veritable "trial run" of living the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In. living the vows on WYD, pilgrims experience the intense joy of the universal church gathered around the pope. They make the connection that living as a religious could be enjoyable and meaningful. The possibility of consecrated vocation becomes real for the first time in many pilgrims' lives. Pilgrims experience poverty the first day of com-mitting to go on WYD. They realize that the costs can be high. As I began recruiting for Sydney, I recall sev-eral students resisting, sa.ying $2,850 was too costly. My response was: "Do you want to go? Has God put this desire in your heart? If so, then commit and the money will come. I promise. And, if not, I will personally cover 405 68.4 2OO9 Prospero ¯ World Youth Day and Religious Life Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of religious poverty. 406 whatever you can't. But you must promise you will com-mit to this and try your best to raise the funds. I prom-ise you, God will provide." Every pilgrim had enough funds. On four WYDs I have never met a pilgrim who fell short of funds. For the 2008 WYD in Sydney, we took seventy pilgrims from the Diocese of Saginaw, each paying $2,850. There are stories of pilgrims finding funds flow-ing in from fund-raisers and from the most unexpected sources. Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of reli-gious poverty: God provides. Pilgrims trust him, and all works out. From the beginning, they learn that those who commit to a reli-gious pilgrimage are cared for by God. They learn this throughout WYD, beginning with their first moment of commitment. Poverty finds many manifestations, usually very inconvenient ones. As the pilgrimage officially begins, I speak of the "great ball of suffering" that one endures on WYD. For some reason, chaos and inconvenience reign. This makes trusting God mandatory, not optional. For example, because of delayed flights, our travel time from our departure to our host parish in Kiama, south of Sydney, was thirty-eight hours. And the last two hours were in a bus with a broken heater (it was winter there) while rain and forty Fahrenheit degrees of damp cold were welcoming us. These horrendous situations created the proper spirit in which to celebrate Mass, Revie;v for Religious namely, our sense of spiritual and actual poverty: "We are not in control!" Having celebrated Mass at a crowded boarding gate in the Los Angeles airport (LAX), we found special meaning in celebrating Mass again, hungry and cold, at the very end of our trip. I was reminded of the four thousand hungry and tired people in Mark 6:1-8 who were worn out from their journey, so Jesus fed them. It was as if Jesus intentionally brought the people out to a deserted place to experience their poverty and to see and taste the goodness of God. Poverty makes pilgrims hungry for Jesus. Another example of poverty happened at the Papal Welcome at Sydney's harbor. Afterwards we were hun-gry and cold. Several pilgrims collected our chits or tickets and got our meals, bags of hot stew (option: beef or pork). After getting the same victuals several days in a row, pilgrims were cheerfully dubbing them "barf bags." Our meals were being eaten on the ground or on cement blocks or wherever we could prop ourselves up. One night, however, several alert pilgrims found some plastic chairs and brought enough over for the group of seventy to sit. We could sit and eat! We were so grate-ful. I cannot recall ever feeling so grateful for having a chair to sit on. This is what WYD does: it makes the ordinary into a gift from God. Once one begins to see that everything, everything, is a gift, then one can start living a radical Christian life. So the gift of sitting, eat-ing, enjoying each other's company, and basking in the reality that we just saw in person the Vicar of Christ, all add up to an explosive experience of the joys of the kingdom. Poverty makes human experience more real, and opens us to the true value of community. How sim-ple and uncomplicated it all is. 407 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. 4081 If pilgrims are properly prepared and guided, they have a wonderful experience of interacting positively with the opposite sex. Even sleeping conditions, oth-erwise inappropriate, become an experience of intense respect and honor of boundaries. One sees the "other" as sacred and as a fellow pilgrim on the way, some-one to be honored and respected. I have never known of any of our pil-grims engaging in actions that are meant for mar-ried couples. Sleeping shoulder to shoulder with two thousand other pilgrims may seem cause for temptation and raised eyebrows, but never have I seen anything but excellent moral behavior among our pilgrims. Even where there are dating couples, they hardly ever "pair off" from the group. The whole atmosphere is one of intense commu-nal living. People are attentive to the needs of everyone, sharing and caring for one another. The pilgrim learns that one does not need to pursue or engage in roman-tic relationships to be happy. Celibacy for the kingdom becomes tangible, livable, and enjoyable. At WYD the intense communal activities, which sometimes involve distressing conditions and both-ersome inconveniences that must be endured, build a joyful esprit de corps. Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. Opportunities for minor sacrifices abound, such as shar-ing personal items to assist another in need and collect-ing meal tickets and standing in line to retrieve meals for a group. These and other sacrifices reveal acom- Review for Religious mon care for one another. Moreover, the group lead-ers have the ultimate say in all major decisions about travel, gatherings, agendas, and special needs that arise. Individual wills give way to the group, or to the lead-ers' decisions. Through these experiences one finds joy in sacrificing one's own will for the good of the group, opening up to the gift of religious obedience. Consecrated persons make a sacrifice of their lives for the good of the church and the world. Pilgrims experience the power of loving sacrifice firsthand, and its power to build up the Body of Christ. Eddie Dwyer, a Saginaw seminarian, said: "Three things I hate are lines, sitting on the floor, and crowded spaces, but the love at WYD made sacrifice easy." All these experiences find rich meaning in the cel-ebration of the sacraments, namely, confession and Eucharist. The intensity of confessions, celebrations of Holy Mass, and Eucharistic adoration affirms God's real presence among his people. All the sufferings and joys of pilgrimage are offered up to the Father in the won-derful exchange of gifts that the Eucharist makes real. All is gift. As a priest I am overwhelmed by the power and joy of the priesthood, by the sacramental fruitful-ness on WYD. What power can be manifested in such weakness! The Papal Mass at the conclusion of WYD provides the perfect environment for the overflowing gratitude of the pilgrimage to express itself. Pilgrims, freshly and deeply aware of God's goodness, gratefully share their belongings with others. Jackets, caps, and an assortment of other personal items are offered and received in a wonderful exchange of gifts. God's kingdom becomes visible in everyone giving their things away to bring joy to both receiver and giver. In his Spiritual Exercises 409 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life St. Ignatius Loyola speaks of the free exchange of gifts between those who love each other (§231). This is the Christian life. As church and bride of Christ, we receive every good thing from God and make an offering of our very selves back to him in gratitude. This joyous exchange finds particular power at the Papal Mass. The accumulation and possession of .things no longer has appeal. The giving and receiving of love becomes the reason for existing. Consecrated life witnesses to the joy of the kingdom of heaven through the. gift of self to God. The Papal Mass provides a taste of the joy offered to those who radically take up the call to follow Christ the Bridegroom wherever he goes. As I lead pilgrims to WYD, I make a point of having several priests, seminarians, and religious sisters accom-pany us. When lay pilgrims rub shoulders with conse-crated persons, consecrated life now has a face, and that face is familiar and human. No longer is the question of consecrated life somewhere off in the distance, but it is real and lived by real people. The possibility of consecrated vocation opens up as the joys of serving the kingdom find witness. I count WYD the single most important vocation promotion ministry that I do. 410 Review for Religious BENNY PHANG Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? MMarriage and celibacy are often seen as contraries. isunderstanding about these two vocations still exists among many people who do not fully under-stand celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven or the meaning of marriage. They see marriage as con-trary to celibacy, totally separated from it, and unable to contribute anything to it. And they understand celibacy as merely a pessimistic, negative rejection of married life and love. They even think celibacy is responsible for many sexual problems. About these matters people raise critical questions such as: Is marriage contrary to celibacy or even a rival? Is marriage a higher and better state than celibacy, or is it the other way around? Does marriage confirm celibacy or devalue it? If marriage confirms celibacy, how does it do so? Benny Phang OCarm, an Indonesian priest studying at the Angelicum for a doctorate in moral theology, can be addressed at Centro Internazionale Sant'Alberto; Via Sforza Pallavicini, 10; 00193 Roma, Italy. Blog: theouiosoter.blogspot.com 411 68.4 2009 Pbang ¯ Marriage and Celibacy On this topic I want to draw some reflections from the messages of Pope John Paul II (collected in Theology of the Body), from the critical reflection on celibacy in the Catholic Church written by Aloysius Pieris sJ, and from the experience of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux of her vocation to religious life. Marriage and celibacy, are interrelated. To hurt either one by being unfaithful in it also hurts the other. 412- Rival Vocations? In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus places the counsel of celibacy in the discussion of the impor-tance of marriage, when he argues against divorce (Mt 19:3-12). Pope John Paul confirms this, saying, "[From Matthew's Gospel, Mt 19:10-12], it can be seen sufficiently clearly that here it is not a question of diminishing the value of matrimony in favor of continence, nor of less-ening the value of one in comparison with the other.''1 "Christ's words on this point are quite clear. He proposes to his disciples the ideal of continence and the call to it, not by reason of the inferiority of, or of prejudice against, conjugal union in the body, but only for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.''2 One can, however, argue for St. Paul's position when he writes, "So then, he who marries his fiancee does well; and he who refrains from marriage will do better" (1 Co 7:38). Does this Pauline text not mean that mat-rimony is good, but celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is better?3 Review for Religious We need to comprehend the reason for celibacy in the evangelical counsel. Jesus says, "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:12). This is the only reason for the evangelical counsel of celibacy. The reason is not to devalue marriage, but for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. To understand the "difference" between Jesus and Paul as regards celibacy and marriage, John Paul gives us an insight: In his pronouncement, did Christ perhaps suggest the superiority of continence for the kingdom of heaven to matrimony? Certainly he said that this is an excep-tional vocation, not a common one. In addition he affirmed that it is especially important and necessary to the kingdom of heaven. If we understand superiority to matrimony in this sense, we must admit that Christ set it out implicitly. However, he did not express it direcdy. Only Paul will say of those who choose matri-mony that they do "well." About those who are willing to live in voluntary continence, he will say that they do "better" (! Co 7:38). (Theology, p. 275) The conscious and voluntary renunciation of the conjugal love of marriage and family life by celibate per-sons is not a devaluation of marriage, but it is a form of self-sacrifice. John Paul explains: "Christ understood the importance of such a sacrifice . He understood the

Issue 65.2 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Franciscan Legacy Vocation Religious Implications The Spirit QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 evtew Religtous sters.dia e,.wztl~,, Go dialogue~ with ourselves; anddialogue accordingto cba~s:~of CatboUc reli~o~'l~(~ As Pope Paul I satd~ our way of bet!g church Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \~el) site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for comlnercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only he considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff. Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Phili'o C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mar~ Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Ciare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 138 franciscan legacy Custodians of Franciscan Households Michael Blastic OFM enters us into the meaning of Franciscan fraternity through developing three elements: 1) a life lived in brotherhood, 2) experienced in a household, and 3) qualified with patience~ Questions for Reflection / Group Discussion Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap centers his reflections on the .spirituality of Francis of Assisi by focusing on five passages of Francis's writings that d, eal with Eucharist. vocation 153 159 Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation Julius D. Leloczky OCist invites those following the special call to religious life into a prayerful meditation on the role of Mary as model and mentor. Prayer Just Because I Said So Mary Joseph Schultz SCC considers the importance of commitment and what it means "to give one's word." Personal Reflection / Group Conversation l~eview for Retigious 166 177 r O ji us imp ic io s Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR reflects on his experience as major superior and as president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka to share his concern for the proper use of afithority. Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Brendan Kneale FSC clarifies identity for men and women as embracing two dimensions, personal and social, which are mutually supportive. 186 spiri Led by the Spirit: Julian of Norwich Andrew Ryder SCJ notes the central role of the Spirit in the writings of Julian of Norwich. The Holy Spirit is the dynamic, active agent who brings us into communion with the life of Christ and the Persons of the Holy Trinity. epar rn n s 202 Scripture Scope: The Miracles of Jesus 206 Cdnonical Counsel: The Importance of Procedural Law 211 Book Reviews 65.2 2006 prisms do we think of when we hear the word service? We quickly rush to the n0tion of activity--what we do, how we act, how we spend our days and perhaps even our nights. But in our Catholic tradition service and to serve God have a far richer meaning than just activity. We find the first and foundational stage of service in a traditional saying, "They also serve who only stand and wait." By way of contemporary example, we notice that the esteemed waiter at table is the one who watches and is attentive to what is needed by the people dining. Such a waiter spends a lot :of his or' her time just "watching and waiting." In a similar way, the Christian who wants to serve God should spend a lot of time "watching and waiting." A good part of the watching and waiting is identifiable as praying. It is the prayer of one who listens to God--a God who is speaking in his revealing word, a God who speaks through his human messengers, a God who speaks through nature and through events. A person who listens is one who is obedient, for the roots of the word obedience lie in listening. The young Samuel in scripture describes his listening in the phrase, "Here I am, Lord." In the sacramental oi'dination of ministers, such listening is caught by the expression "ready and willing." It is the attitude of Jesus before the God he calls Abba. The second stage of service is made evident in the stance of surrender. It is the giving over of ourselves to. another in love. As Catholics we are being invited to enter Christ's eternal stance of surrender that is celebrated in every Eucharist. Jesus sacramentalized his total gift of self to God and to us in the giving of his body and his blood at the Last Supper. Historically, that gift was made especially in his passion and death. But the risen Jesus continues to invite us to enter into his eternal stance of surrender in every Eucharist we celebrate. For us, our surrender is measured by all the discrete moments of our life. We might say that, nourished by Jesus' body and blood, we are living "into" our surrender. Finally we come to thai stage of service whose mean-ing we think we have exhausted when we describe activ-ities. It is true that there are many ways of serving as a Christian, and these services are an essential element of living our faith. A faith that is not lived out in action is no faith at all. It is noteworthy that Protestants have often described their Sunday worship as services. Although we Catholics have ordinarily not used this designation, the Mass truly can be identified as a se~'vice, and it contains all the stages of service that we have described. The Liturgy of the Word certainly demands all of tls to be obedient, to be listeners, to be people ready and willing to be formed and directed by God's word. In the Liturgy of the Sacrament we are invited to enter into Jesus' eternal stance of surrender, and we come forward at communion time to ratify that gift and so experience our increasing identity with Christ by letting him be our daily bread. And every Eucharist sends us forth with the mission to share our faith and ~o serve God and his people. At the Last Supper Jesus asked all of us to claim our identity with him by following his example--he signified this by a particular activity as he washed the apostles' feet. Whatever our activities, following the risen Christ, we are identified as "ones who serve." . David L. Fleming SJ ,117 65.2 2006 franciscan MICHAEL BLASTIC Custodians of Franciscan Households legacy In a Newsweek web article posted on MSNBC, Melinda Henneberger wrote that "Katrina has reminded us that Christian morality should be about responding to the wretched and loving the unlovable--not about other people's sex lives" (14 September 2005). While the United States describes itself as a Christian nation, in the aftermath of Katrina we have seen that this label is deceptive. Citing Bill McKibben, "The Christian Paradox" (Harper's, August 2005), who pointed this out, she wrote that American practice really rewards dependency, and so it is better to hold on to your cash. McKibben himself reported on a poll concerning religious practice in the United States. He noted that only four in ten Americans can list more than four of the Ten Commandments, and only five in ten can name the four Gospels. He said that these Michael Blastic OFM presented this paper on Franciscan brotherhood at a province meeting in November 2005. His address is The Franciscan Institute; St. Bonaventure University; St. Bonaventure, New York 14778. Revie~ for Religious statistics really do not matter, but what does matter is that three out of four think the Bible teaches that "God helps those who help themselves" (actually a proverb of Ben Franklin's). Approximately 85 percent of Americans identify themselves as Christian, with about 75 percent claiming they pray to God daily and 33 percent going to church weekly. McKibben points out a number of paradoxes. We are second to last among developed countries in government foreign aid; nearly 18 percent of American children live in poverty--here we come in last among the rich nations-- and 26 percent of households lack sufficient food. We are the most violent rich nation on earth, with a murder rate of four or five times that of Europe. We have prison populations five or six times Europe's rate. We are the only Western democracy that executes its citizens; our marriage breakup rate is more than half, and higher than Europe's. tf one measures Christian identity by Jesus' teaching of helping the less fortunate, we come off poorly indeed. ~ Given these statistics, McKibben argues that Americans have replaced the Christianity of the Bible with another creed which ignores Jesus' radical and demanding focus on the other--"Love your neighbor as yourself." Jesus made it clear who the neighbor is--the poor person, the sick person, the naked person, the hungry person. "On and on and on--a call for nothing less than a radical, voluntary, and effective reordering of power relationships, based on the principle of love," to quote McKibben. I know I am not reporting something you do not already know. But I believe that this social context of North America as described by McKibben, visible in the unjust social reality revealed in Katrina's aftermath, is important for reflecting on our Franciscan life. In fact, 1119, 6~. 2 200~ Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households such a social context was the occasion for Francis of Assisi's conversion. Here I want to be very clear. Francis of Assisi's conversion was not explicitly, and primarily religious. It was a movement from a social order base& on the creed "God helps them who help themselves" to a social order based on sharing and sacrifice and "Love your neighbor as yourself"--in other words the creed of Jesus. In his conversion Francis first and foremost experienced what it means to be human, and what it implies for social life. The Franciscan movement results from Francis and the brothers learning what is required for human beings to flourish as God intends. From the opposite perspective, it is the medium of fraternity that is the message. A Franciscan fraternity evangelizes to the extent that it embodies human flourishing on the personal, social, and ecclesial levels. First I will describe briefly the early Franciscan experience and vision of fraternal life, and then I will suggest how this may help all of us live our lives as brothers. :120 A Place for Human Flourishing I would describe Franciscan fraternity in this way. I~ is (1) a life lived in brotherhood, (2) experienced in a household, and (3) qualified with patience. I deduce these elements from the Rule of 1223, the Rule that we profess as our form of life. (1) It was the Italian scholar Raoul Manselli who identified Francis's encounter with lepers as the turning point in his conversion. As Francis records in his Testament, that encounter radically rearranged his values and led him to leave the commune of Assisi in order to live with those lepers. He was drawn out of himself so that he could see, perhaps for the first time in his life; the reality of human beings who according to the definitions Review for Religious of life in the commune of Assisi simply did not exist. There was no place in Assisi for the unclean, the unworthy, the unholy, the unbearable, the unlucky, the untouchable, and the unloved. Encountering these suffering human beings, the lepers, Francis showed them a merciful heart. He looked at ., , them and touched them, he stayed with them and shared life with them, he comforted them and served their needs. And Francis tells us he did not do this for himself. He did not go to the~lepers to make himself better. He did not use . them as objects in an ascetical exercise to overcome himself (though this is how hagiographers will understand it). Francis gives the credit for this experiential truth to God: "The Lord led me among them, and I showed them a merciful heart" (Test 2).1 With God's nudge, Francis recognized the lepers as brothers and sisters, as creatures of the same God, as having equal dignity in the eyes of God the Creator. While Assisi's values and practice denied this truth, Francis was led into it by God's grace (what was bitter became sweet), and 'he left Assisi to live among these newly discovered brothers and sisters. Leaving the world of Assisi, Francis ~hus stepped into God's world--creation--where everything was estab-lished by the Creator in relationship. This is the truth that he would later celebrate in the Canticle of the Creatures. Creation sings, creation flourishes, simply by being what it was created to be, by being in relationship with all that exists. In his Testament Francis says, "The Lord gave me some brothers" (Test 14). Experienced as the reality of relationship as established by the Creator, brotherhood is Francis did not go to the lepers to make himself better. 121 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households embodied in the rule in terms of obedience. According to chapter 2 of the Earlier Rule, after those who come have given everything to the poor as they were able, and after the year of probation has ended for them, "they may be received into obedience" (LR II:l 1). Once received into obedience they may not wander "outside obedience" (ER II: 10). The rule speaks of obedience as a place, the space into which the brothers are received. While monks are received into a monastery after their novitiate probation, Francis's brothers are received into obedience. Obedience becomes a synonym for the space in which the brothers live. What characterizes obedience then is that it is the space of relationship, One could substitute the term relationship for the term obedience throughout the early Franciscan writings and not change the meaning of the texts. The relationships of brotherhood define the space in which the brothers live. This is especially significant given that the rule understands the brothers to be itinerant, even though by 1223 this was beginning to change somewhat. Brothers began living in convents in cities. Brotherhood, then, or better our relationships as brothers, is what defines the space in which to live our life according to the Rule. And, as Francis makes clear, brotherhood is only possible if one. turns toward the other, only if one gets out of oneself and willingly places oneself in relationship to the other. This turning toward others is the basis for contemplation in the tradition; it does not imply separation or solitude, but rather engagement and an ecstatic way of being in the world. A second defining element of Franciscan fraternity is Franciscan mission. After lepers, probably the most recognized symbol of Franciscan life is San Damiano and the speaking crucifix. While this story~appears rather late in the hagiographical tradition (1246), it expresses a fundamental purpose of Franciscan life. Francis received a Review for Religious mission to repair God's house, which was being destroyed: "Francis, don't you see that my house is being destroyed? Go, then, and rebuild it for me" (L3C 13). While in the past we translated those words from the Legend of the Three Companions too simplistically as "Rebuild my church," the hagiographical tradition consistently uses the term house in accounts of this event. And, while Francis initially understood that invitation from the cross to mean the broken-down building of San Damiano, he would come to understand that the mission was rather one of repairing a space in which Frariciscan ' holiness was experienced domestically, the. lives of men and women who have been~.broken and destroyed as human beings can be rebuilt and flourish. House and family are central to the brothers' experience of the Christian life. Their relationship to God is expressed in terms of the household. For instance, in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithful, we read: And the Spirit of the Lord will rest upon all those men and women who have done and persevered in these things, and it will make a home and dwelling place in them. And they will be the children of the heavenly Father, whose works they do. And they are spouses, brothers, and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are spouses when the faithful soul is united by the Holy Spirit to our Lord Jesus Christ. We are brothers, moreover, when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven; mothers when we carry him in our heart and body through love and a pure and sincere conscience; and give him birth through a holy activity, which must shine before others by example. (2LtF 48-53) Here we can see that for the early Franciscans holiness was experienced domestically. This suggests two things: 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households 124 (1) we are family with the Trinitarian God we believe in, and (2) our relationship with this God is accessible and lived in the ordinary, everyday experience of domestic life. This is an important characteristic of Franciscan .practice, and suggests family life and not church life as the means for working out our way to God. How does Francis envision rebuilding God's house? Bonaventure's insight in his Major Legend of St. Francis is right on the mark here. He comments that, after receiving this mission in San Damiano, he eventually moved to St. MaiT~ of the Angels; he "lived there in order to repair it" (LMj II:8). The repair of God's house is not so much the action of preaching or teaching. The repair is accomplished by life in brotherhood itself, by living among and with brothers and sisters. The term conversatio is used to describe this "living among" in two places in the Early Rule. Francis encourages the brothers to rejoice when they "live among (quando conversantur inter viles . . .) people considered of little value and looked down upon" (ER IX:2); and "they can live spiritually (possunt duobus modis spiritualiter inter eos conversant) among the Saracens" (ER XVI:5). Using the Latin word conversatio, the root of the term conversation, the Rule envisages life as a conversation, and depends on the monastic sense of conversatio as manner of life. The brothers' manner of life is thus to be conversational--sharing life with brothers and ~isters in this conversational manner rebuilds the house of God. In another text of the Later Rule, this conversation is described more concretely: I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be meek, peaceful, modest, gentle, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming . Review for Religious Into whatever house they enter, let them first say: "Peace to this house!" According to the holy gospel let them eat whatever food is set before them. (LR III:10- 12, 14) Here we see how for the brothers the mann(r of being with others is the primary means for accomplishing the mission, and is itself the message. The gospel is about life, a way of life, a way of being with and relating to others with the peace that is God's gift freely given in Jesus. The brothers simply speak the gospel honestly with everyone, beginning with one another. But, before the brothers can speak the word of the gospel, they must live the word of the gospel. Here recall the emphasis Celano gives to this fact in his Life of St. Francis, "[Francis] was no deaf hearer of the gospel" (1C 22). Coherence of life and message is the norm. The brothers' honest conversation and engagement with the world and people invites recognition of the presence of the kingdom already in their midst. Conversation, though, is a skill that must be learned, and many of the prescriptions of the rule that describe behavior in a negative way can be read as impediments to the quality of conversa'tion that the brothers engage in as part of their mission. This understanding of household and conversation can be seen in chapter 6 of the Later Rule. There poverty is described as "not making anything one's own" and living as "pilgrims and strangers in this world" and "never seeking anything else under heaven." After describing the brothers' poverty this way as modeled on Jesus Christ, "who made himself poor for us in this world" (LR VI:3), the Rule spells out the implication of this poverty for the life of brotherhood: Wherever the brothers may be and meet one another, let them show that they are members of.the same family. Let each one confidently m~ke known his need 125 65.2 2006 Blasac ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households to the other, for if a mother loves and cares for her son according to the flesh, how much more diligently must someone love and care for his brother according to the Spirit! (LR VI:7-8) Literally the Rule suggests here that the brothers should demonstrate that they come from the same "household," the same family (ostendunt se domesticos invicem inter se). Thus, having nothing, living itinerantly, and desiring only this, the brothers can be at home in their relationships. The brothers should feel at home in the love and. care they have and express for one another. Poverty is the condition for brotherhood. This is an important consideration because poverty can dehumanize. Rebuilding God's house implies offering an alternative to the dehumanizing effects, of poverty. Today we can include everything from forms of work, to abuse, to social structures. The life of brotherhood should provide for humanizing relationships, expressed in turning toward others in their real needs, and their responding with real and mature care. This house is built by God's Spirit as a place where human beings can flourish. Our fraternal life is meant to help human beings prosper, grow, and thrive as "human persons fully alive" and thus to fulfill our mission to repair God's house. A third dimension of fraternal life has to do with what it means to be human. For me, this knowledge comes with the.stigmata of Francis. The stigmata involves unanswered questions. Thomas of Celano in his Life of St. Francis supplied the time, place, and context for the event of the stigmata, but while doing that he was much more interested in unraveling its meaning. Celano recounts that, while at La Verna two years before his death, Francis "saw in the vision of God a man having six wings like a seraph, standing above him, arms extended and feet joined, fixed to a cross" (2C 94). Celano's words suggest that Francis's vision was of a human person taken up into God, burning with desire (like a seraph), and crucified. They suggest the divinization of the human person. Celano is not describing history here. He is interpreting an event whose full meaning was beyond history. He understands the stigmata as demonstrating the fullest potential of being human embraced by God in the incarnation. In Jesus, God embraced the human condition with all of its limitation, fragility, weakness, and vulnerability and, in this embrace of the human condition, revealed God's own divine nature. I.n other words, the crucified flesh of Christ revealed the nature of God. The event of the stigmata reveals both the meaning of God and the meaning of Jesus Christ's human nature. The humanity embraced by Jesus is the same as Francis lived, to the point of knowing it in his own wounds. Marked with the wounds of Jesus, Francis becomes the leper, an icon of the crucified Jesus. Celano says: "While he was unable to perceive anything clearly understandable from the vision, its newness very much pressed upon his heart. Signs of the nails began to appear on his hands and feet, just as he had seen them a little while earlier on the crucified man hovering above him" (2C 94). Francis becomes what he sees, that is, what he has been seeing from the moment God turned him to the lepers to contemplate humanity there as a living icon of Jesus Christ, crucified and fixed to a cross. What does it mean to be human, then, for the early Franciscans? It means to embrace th~ full reality of the human condition as frail, weak, fragile, and vulnerable, and even scarred and wounded. The human person is an image of the Lamb who was slain, who carries even now in glory the scars of the passion. Being scarred and wounded like Jesus is not about imitating Jesus' suffering and pain on the cross. Rather, it is the consequence of t)27 6~.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households self-sacrificing love, of being totally for others, without holding anything back: To be truly human means to bear patiently the human condition of weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. In the stigmata Francis demonstrates that it is possible for a human being to be Godlike, to love as God loved, to be totally and completely for the other, and in addition he demonstrates that human persons are capable of compassion, human persons are capable of bearing the pain of.the other. This, it seems to me, is what the Rule describes as the action of the Spirit of the Lord in one's life: I admonish and exhort the brothers in themLord Jesus Christ to beware of all pride, vainglory, envy and greed, of care and solicitude for the things of this world, of detraction and murmuring. Let those who are illiterate not be anxious to learn, but let them pay attention to what they must desire above all else: to have the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity, to pray always to him with a pure heart, to have humility and patience in persecution and infirmity, and to love those who persecute, rebuke, and find fault with us. (LRX:7- 0) The eight vices that are listed at the beginning of this text are social vices; they have to do with how one relates to others and to the things of this-world. These vices describe one who is living "from the outside in," that is, one whose meaning and behavior are determined by things, by social position, by prestige, power, and clout, all of which lie outside a person. The Rule admonishes the brothers to a life of poverty, having nothing of one's own and desiring nothing more than the action of God's Spirit. They are not to live from the outside in, but from the inside out, by expressing the Spirit of the Lord in outward behavior. The Spirit transforms us flesh and blood into an image of Jesus, the suffering servant of God. Review for Religious Another way of expressing the action of the Spirit here is in our bearing with everyone and everything in patience and humility. The Saying on True and Pe,fect ffoy, recorded as a conversation between Francis and Leo, says that, as they arrive back at the Portiuncola one night, they are refused entrance because of the time of day and because they are stupid and not needed. They are told to go to the Crosiers for lodging. Francis says that, "if I had patience and did not become upset, true joy as well as true virtue and the salvation of my soul would consist in. this" (TPJ 15). The experience of the 'presence of God so transforms human existence that even persecution and sickness become ways to follow Christ. The experience of the Spirit of the Lord thus expresses itself in patience. The Latin term patiens indicates a willingness to endure or undergo something, to be capable of bearing hardship; it implies that one is vulnerable, able to be wounded. For Francis, patience is an attribute of God. In the--Praises of God, written shortly /. after he experienced-ffie sugrnata on Mount La Verna, he says to God: "You are love, charity; you are wisdom, you are humility, you are patience, you are beauty, you are meekness, you are security, you are rest" (PrG 4). Francis sees Jesus as the face of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. But it is the incarnation even more than the passion and death that Francis looks to, because in the incarnation Jesus put himself into the position of weakness, frailty, vulnerability, and limitation Francis sees Jesus as.the fa~e of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan HouseboMs and. in this revealed the full potential of being human, showing that the acceptance.of human vulnerability is salvific. Here the Rule gets to the heart of Franciscan fraternity because it challenges the brothers to be simply human, to live from the inside out, to be patient in suffering and sickness, to be vulnerable and open to the other, in short, to follow the footsteps of Jesus Christ. Authentic human life can flourish in Franciscan households that are built by brothers who turn toward each other, who engage in honest conversation as a way of life, and who patiently embrace their humanness in weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. Guarding the Franciscan Household The term "guardian" does not appear in the text of the Rule of 1223. It will appear inAater writings such as the Letter to the Entire Order and the Testament. No job description can be found in the early Franciscan writings, but it is understood that as guardian a brother exercises a ministry among brothers on the local level. What the Rule says about the ministry of "those brothers who are the ministers and servants of the others." (LR X:I) certainly applies to guardians. They are to "receive [the brothers] charitably and kindly and have sufficient familiarity with them that these same brothers may speak and deal with them as masters with the servants, for so it must be that the ministers are servants of all the brothers" (LR X:5-6). The ministers must deal with the brothers as family. While this quality of service must characterize the ministers, those who are subjects must also live the sacrificial nature of obedience in their relationships with the ministers and others. This sacrificial quality of obedience. Francis learned from Jesus, especially in his agony in the garden as described in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithf!~k Rt.view for Religious Then he prayed to his father saying, Father, if it can be done, let this cup pass from me. And his sweat became as drops of blood falling on the ground. Nevertheless, he placed his will in the will of his father saying: Father, let your will be done; not as I will, but as you will. His father's will was such that his blessed and glorious son, whom he gave to us and who was born for us, should offer himself through his own blood as a sacrifice and oblation on the altar of the cross: not for himself, through whom all things were made, but for our sins, leaving us an example that we might follow his footprints. (2LtF 8-13) Jesus' obedience to his father was a struggle to say yes to his father's will, and this is really the only thing Francis says about the passion. Francis never speaks of the pain or suffering of the crucified Jesus, as if the entire passion took place in Jesus' struggle to accept his Father's will. And the Father's will, as Francis describes here, is that Jesus be completely for, others, that Jesus be for us. The passion is about struggling to be for others, and thi~ brings us back to the very nature of what it means to be brother. The brother is one who turns toward others, who is totally for others without holding anything back for himself. This js true obedience, because it is the fulfillment of what it means to be in relationship with others. Given this general sense of service, caring for the Franciscan household might be practiced in the following ways, I. I began with the common American Christian belief and practice that "God helps those who help themselves," a creed that can affect us in various ways. This creed is not authentically Christian, and it is eminently un- Franciscan. It supports behavior and practice that become destructive of God's house. All the brothers are responsible for calling each other to lives of genuine other-centeredness, to lives of authentic obedience 131 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households experienced as fraternal relationship, and to the poverty of having nothing as one's own. Interdepehdence rather than radical independence, mutuality rather than self-centeredness, arid healthy need rather than the fullness of isolation are true qualities of fraternal life. This kind of fraternity is not a given, nor achieved easily or quickly, but remains the goal toward which we live. The guardian's task of caring for fraternal life implies attention to the absence or presence of creeds that conflict with real fraternal life. II. One hard-to-retrieve aspect of fraternal life today, given our institutional structures, is itinerancy. Francis and his brothers lived as pilgrims and strangers in this An important itinerancy !sAhab., while moving abbut; W~ are .s.t.ill at home with each o her: ° world. They were itinerant brothers, literally. They were "houses" on the road--perhaps medieval versions of mobile homes! Itinerancy was a clear aspect of Franciscan identity in contrast to monks--monastic institutions were terrified of wandering monks, called gyrovagues in Benedict's Rule. The. monastic ideal was stability, and part of the difficulty of fitting mendicants into the structure of the church had to do with their itinerancy. The friars were often perceived mistakenly (?) as monks gone bad. How do we recover that dimension of our life? Perhaps by recovering the meaning of itinerancy as metaphor--by not remaining fixed in one place, by taking different perspectives on the same reality, by always being on the way without ever believing that we have arrived, by not claiming the center for ourselves, and so forth. It is easy to get bogged down in our ministry or work, and to Review for Religious disconnect ourselves from the fraternity for reasons of ministry or work, though there can be valid reasons for this. An important aspect of itinerancy is that while moving about we are still at home with each other; our friaries are parts of a much larger provincial fraternity. For fraternity to be healthy and life-giving, it has to be on the move, never settled into stubborn custom or settled convenience or old fears of anything new o'r different. The fraternity must be on the move in a metaphorical sense in order to stay healthy and focused on its purpose. The fraternity has to be kept on its toes, and the guardians' care for households is an appropriate way of keeping the brothers on the move. III. As we have seen, Francis's mission to repair God's house had to do with the quality of human life. It had to do with a style of life or conversation that was inclusive, respectful, honest, and engaging. Conversation does have guidelines. In his book Plurality and Ambiguity, David TracT says: "In conversation we find ourselves by losing ourselves in the questions provoked by the text. We find ourselves by allowing claims upon our attention, by exploring possibilities suggested by others" (p. 19). He suggests some guidelines for honest conversation: ' Conversation is a game with some hard rules: say only what you mean; say it as accurately as you can; listen to and respect what the other says, however different or other; be willing to correct or defend your opinions if challenged by the conversation partner; be willing to argue if necessary, tQ confront if demanded, to endure necessary conflict, to change your mind if the evidence suggests it." (pp. 18-19) To paraphrase Tracy in Franciscan language, we might say that, to have an honest conversation, one must act according to the real d~mands of being brothers in relationship, one must be for the other in honesty, in 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households integrity of life, in respectful listening. But Tracy's words, too, have already described the dynamic of a healthy fraternity. Real fraternal life is possible only if the brothers can have honest conversations. This is a real challenge because I can be so convinced of my truth that I cannot hear anyone else's truth. Conversation brings into play the truth about being human that Francis witnessed to in the stigmata--being vulnerable, being able to be touched by another, It takes much effort and practice to engage in honest conversation of this kind. Well worth the effort, the honest and earnest conversation in my fraternity will affect the quality of my presence and ministry outside the fraternity. Honest conversation iwfraternal life will also improve another central aspect of our life together, our prayer. To move beyond communal vocal prayer to faith sharing or shared prayer, honest conversation is important. If I cannot engage my brothers in honest conversation, how will I share my faith deeply with others. Perhaps there is a correlation between the friary chapters that demand honest conversation about life and ministry and the friaries that have much, or at least some, quality faith sharing. While the guardians cannot force this to happen, they can'challenge the brothers to develop friary chapters as an exercise in honest conversation. Moving from honest conversation into shared prayer is a logical and easy step. IV. Perhaps the best description of the guardians, given this description of Franciscan life, is that they are mentors. They support, challenge, inspire, and foster discernment of what is true, worthy, and life-giving among the brothers. You can find. a fine description of the mentor in Big Questions, Worthy Dreams by Sharon Daloz Parks (Jossey-Bass, 2000). She describes a mentoring Review for Religious environment as one that "can and necessarily must assist in creating norms of discourse and inclusion that invite genuine dialogue, strengthen critical thought, encourage connective-holistic awareness, and develop the contemplative mind" (p. 142). Sounds like a tall order, but we have all experienced a mentoring environment. Franciscan fraternity is similar to what she describes: "Mentoring environments are communities of imagination and practice. Humanizing practices, as we use the term here, are ways of life, things that people do with and for each other to make and keep life human" (p. 154). Parks describes three practices of a mentoring community: (1) the practice of the hearth, that is, places that invite reflection and conversation and times for doing this (hopefully the chapter provides this); (2) the practice of the table, not something that Franciscans have problems with generally, but is table time really a priority, or do we do what most Americans and families do today, simply eat on the run and alone in order to get on to something else? (3) the practice of the commons, a place where people meet and share their interdependent lives, a practice of learning how to stand with each other over time. That is a description of the recreation room, "a place within which to confirm a common, connected life. ¯ . that conveys meanings and orients purpose and commitment" (p. 157). Practices .like these facilitate fraternal life and build up the Franciscan household. For me, the religious genius of Francis and the early brothers lies in their ability to appreciate and value the human as the religious. The brothers understood the Gospels as showing us what it means to be really and simply human as brothers and sisters in contrast to social structures that are often antihuman. To be a healthy human brother or sister is to be a holy human person. Our way of being human is the message Francis was 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan Households called to share. God's house is repaired and renewed in brotherhood and sisterhood, where human .life in its weakness, fragility, and vulnerability is embraced and celebrated and endured and supported in patience and healthy relationships, and where honest conversation is practiced and promoted. This is the vision of fraternal life that the early Franciscan writings set out. By our common profession we are all responsible for seeking this goal. The challenge is, I believe, to live that common profession, not in an ideal place, but in the "space" of th~ brotherhood that God has given us. With his brothers, the guardian has to be an expert in being human in order to be an effective servant. The guardian is charged only with calling us to be faithful to what we say we are. The guardian thus invites and challenges us to be fully human and to flourish in fraternal life. The guardian cannot do this or be responsible for this by himself. It takes all of us just as we are in the: glory of our frail, weak, limited, and vulnerable humanity. Our life is not about rapid perfection. Our life is about truth, the truth of the gospel which we embody together as brothers following the example of Francis and his brothers, who simply tried to follow the footprints of Jesus. We are called to be brothers to our brothers, to turn toward each other, to engage each other in honest conversation, to embrace our own and our brothers' weakness, limitation, frailty, and vulnerability. Desiring nothing else but this, we are heirs of the .kingdom of heaven, the place God has created that we may flourish as human beings! (see LR VO. May God give us peace! Review for Religious Note 1 All citations of the early Franciscan writings and of the Franciscan hagiographical texts in this paper are taken from Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, The Saint, and Vol. 2, The Founder, edited by Regis Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999 and 2000). Questions for Reflections / Group Discussion 1. Michael Blastic OFM was addressing guardianship in a particular Franciscan Province. What elements from his presentation do I find applicable to my own life? 2. What do I need to do to make practical in my way of living some of his reflectiOns on livihg together? 3. Have I ever been mentored by someone? If so, what are the effects of my being mentored? Have I ever considered my owr~ role of being a mentor? What would I need to do ? gently her fingers his head against her lap wherein he rested once before held now between her bloody l~ands her head bentover her task carefully removing the thorfis the skin pulling, resistant, bleeding a little even now gently her fingers so as if not to hurt him she winces as the thorns come out Sean Kinsella 65.2 2006 REGIS J. ARMSTRONG Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist I~ was Pope Paul VI who first used the word harisms" officially in the context of consecrated life.1 He did so in his apostolic exhortation of 29 June 1971, Evangelica~ testificatio, ~11, where, in writing about "the charisn{s of founders," he echoed the teachings of chapter 5 of Lumen gentium and those of Perfectae caritatis and, in doing so, challenged consecrated women and men to focus on their unique gifts to the church. Even the most casual observer of the history of consecrated life notices that, since the Second Vatican Council, the vocabulary of consecrated religious is far more conscious and respectful of particular charisms and, among these, the followers of Francis of Assisi are noteworthy. Part of the reason for the Franciscan preoccupation with their unique charism or charisms is a curious difficulty in arriving at objective knowledge of the ever Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap, editor, translator, and author, first presented these reflections on 31 January 2005 to the faculty, staff, and students of the Theological College of The Catholic University of America, where he is a professor: 220 Curley Hall; Washington, D.C. 20064. Review for Religious popular Francis of Assisi. Until the late 1970s much of our knowledge of Francis's spirituality was mediated through the hagiographic literature that surrounds him. Significantly, the 14th-century Little Flowers of Saint Francis was-~-and perhaps remains--the most widely read source for popular knowledge of the 13th-century saint. Strangely, firsthand acquaintance with the saint was limited to three, possiblyfour,'of his writings and, was only broadened when in 1976 a critical edition of his thirty-eight known writings was published and quickly translated.2 "Deceptively simple" is one way of describing those texts. While some might dismiss them because of their transparency, or view them as irrelevant because of their historical context, Francis's gospel insights continue to challenge those who study them, and their timelessness seems to draw an increasing number of reader~. The task before me is to reflect on what the spirituality, let. us say the "charism," of Francis and his followers might offer to priests and others. At this time of Eucharistic emphasis, it seems appropriate to focus on five passages of Francis's writings. The first of these, a short, fundamentally liturgical prayer, appears in the last of the saint's writings, the Testament. In it he recalls the earliest days of the Franciscan fraternity. The second is taken from a set of documents that Francis wrote upon his return from the Islamic world in 1220. The third comes from a collection of writings' that elude dating but reflect a more mature Francis who has come to grips with what gospel spirituality consists of. The remaining .two seem to have been written during the last year of his life. Three prominent gifts emerge in these writings: the gift of faith, the gift of the Spirit, and the gift of the priesthood, three gifts that form a prism through which to gaze upon the Eucharist. I offer you this prism convinced that Francis's writings envision a Eucharist-centered life and, for a 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist priest, one that is defined by v~hat he does each day: celebrate what is at the very heart of his life. The Gift of Faith Francis's Testament, written in stages toward the end of,~his life, opens with a set of reminiscences that many see as defining his vision¯ After speaking of his embrace of a leper, the beginning ofhis life of penance, he describes ., o his life of faith. ,!'And the Lord gave me such faith in churches that I would simply pray and speak in this way: "We adore you, O Lord Jesus Christ, here and in all your churches throughout the world, and we bless you, because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.'" The early biographers Thomas of Celano and St. Bonaventure maintain that he later taught this prayer to his very first followers. The prayer is ecclesial and soteriological in nature, expressing as it does an understanding of the role of the church in the accomplishment of redemption. Those familiar with the liturgical texts will recognize it as appearing in the Liber Responsalis of Gregory the Great, where it is an antiphon for matins on the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.3 In his Documenta Vitae Religiosae, the monk Arnulphe encouraged its recitation upon entering a church and approaching the (ross.4 What is distinctive, however, is Francis's addition: ". ¯ here and in all the churches throughout the world." His version of the antiphon brings us from the abstract church to a particular, here-and-now church and to those scattered throughout the world. True, Eucharist is not We are made aware,of Francis's understanding the church pla e of encounter or adoratiom Review for Religious present or even implied in the prayer. We are nonetheless made aware of Francis's understanding of the church as the place of encounter or adoration, that is, the sacred space in which the pray-er is reminded of the central place of the cross in our redemption. Curiously, Francis sees this practical, tangible gift of faith as something flowing immediately from the embrace of a life of penance. Should we follow his train of thought in this document, Francis suggests that his discoqery of God's presence began with his encounter with a leper and continued with his entrance into a church, where he discovered what was being asked of him. These Were indeed the first dramatic steps of his spiritual journey, from a chance meeting with the leper to ,his "stumble" into the church of San Damiano, where he discerned his ca|l, His biographers rightly suggest that the two are united, in the Franciscan approach to God, two essential elements on faith's journey,s ,~ Note the focused pragmatism of this passage. The Lord's gift of faith demands expression in the ordina~ day:to-day ebb and flow of life. Francis's faith expresses itself in reverence and respect for the sacred place, the sacred place of encounter. His companions later described him with a broom in his hand gathering the priests of an area and encouraging them to keep clean ,their churches, altars, and everything connected with ~the celebration of the divine mysteries.6 Afew years~ later, the Fourth Lateran Council (canon 20) and Pope Honorius III were to address this matterZ This theme of showing reverence for the place and the accoutrements of worship is easily seen in an exhortation he wrote to all the clergy.8 For years the only existing copy of this was one found in a 13th-century missal in the Benedictine monastery of Subiaco, which boasts of a visit Francis made there during a trip to Rome. This manuscript shows the influence of 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist the decrees of Pope Honorius encouraging implemen-tation of the Fourth Lateran decree. Recently, however, an earlier manuscript of the letter was discovered, one that may have been written before or immediately after the council and confirms Francis's insistence on reverence and respect fog churches and sacred vessels.9 In both exhortations a prominent theme emerges, the central place of the Eucharist. Although Francis never uses the word Eucharist, he does write of "the Body and Blood of the Lord," thereby suggesting the concrete way in which he regards the Eucharistic presence of Christ. "In this world," he writes, "we have and see nothing corporaliter [corporally] of the Most High except [his] Body and Blood, and the words through which we have been made and redeemed from death to life." In that light, it is difficult to ignore his repeated encouragement of respect and care for what we might consider the insignificant things of worship: reservation, cleanliness, decorum, even liturgical books.° Once again Francis's addition to that liturgical antiphon--"here and in all your churches throughout the world"--emerges, so'that we see a faith that is not cerebral or otherworldly, but practical and down-to-earth. Corporaliter! If the Most High chooses to come to us corporaliter, then we. must carefully respect the matters of our worship corporaliter, in simple specific ways. Francis repeatedly and simply calls his followers to be attentive to the details of worship. These are instruments with which God enables us to proceed, in Hugh of St. Victor's words, "from the visible to the invisible." The Gift of the Spirit This leads us to an undated set of Francis's writings: his Admonitions, a title that does not express well in English the nature of these twenty-eight teachings. Each "admonition" simply presents a few biblical passages or l~evie~ for Religious images and then some practical application to daily life. This form is a common catechetical tool used by medieval instructors in the faith.~° The first admonition begins with a series of biblical passages that initially seem unrelated unless they0are viewed as examples of "seeing and believing." Francis's starting point in this first admonition is the struggles of faith of the apostles Thomas~and Philip, given that God "dwells in unapproachable light,' and "no one has ever seen God." He proceeds to the role of the Holy Spirit, who enables them and us to see things differendy, to see with what Tl~omas F. Torrance calls the Spirit's "epistemological relevance." l~ In this .way Francis leads us into the very heart of trinitarian life--the Father looks upon the Son in the Spirit, and the Son looks upon the Father in the Spirit. Francis challenges us to understand what spirituality is, namely, a Spirit-filled life: All those who saw the Lord Jesus according to the humanity and did not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that he is the true Son of God were condemned. Now, inthe same way, all those who see in the form of bread and wine the sacrament that is consecrated [literally, sanctified] at' thd altar by the Lord's words through the agency of the priest, and who do not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that it is truly the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, are condemned. To be sure, the challenge of seeing and believing is prominent, but it is cast in the context of the Spirit and the Divinity. Many commentators on Francis's writings suggest that his vision of the spiritual life is besv defined by a simple statement found in his Rule: "Let [the brothers] pay attention to what they must desire above all else: the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity." ~2 This being the case, the Spirit's activity in making Christ the center of our lives is primary and, in this instance, 143 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 14'4 becomes the medium through which we gaze. upon Christ. The Spirit brings us to gaze upon Christ with "the eyes" of the Father and, by our conformity with Christ, to gaze upon the Father with "the eyes" of the Son. We are confronted with what Catherine Mowry LaCugna calls "the practical Trinity" and with Karl Rahner's words: "The economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity.''t3 Far mor~ simply, Francis understands the Spirit as calling us to look upon both the incarnation and the Eucharist in a trinitarian way, seeing the incarnate Lord Jesus and the Eucharistic Lord Jesus as the Father does, with.the eyes of the Holy Spirit. As Francis describes it in the first of his ~ldmonitiones, the Spirit's presence in our lives challenges us on three levels with each celebration of the Eucharist. It reminds us of the incarnation, with the Son's daily embrace of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability: "Behold, he humbles himself each d~ay (Ph 2:8) as when he came from the royal throne into the Virgin's womb (Ws 18:15); each day he himself comes to us, appearing humbly; each day he comes down from the bosom of the Father (Jn 1,: 18) upon the altar in the hands of a priest." The Spirit's presence also prompts alertness to the revelation that comes from the Eucharist as well as from the incarnation itself: "As [the Son] revealed himself to the holy aposdes in true flesh, so he reveals himself to us in the same way in sacred bread." Finally, in light of this, the Spirit's presence fosters contemplation of the Eucharist with what Francis calls, in words reminiscent of Bernard of Clairvaux, ".spiritual eyes" 14: "And as they saw only his fleshwith their physical sight, yet believed that he was God as they conteInplated him with their spiritual eyes, let us, as we see bread and wine with our bodily eyes, see and firmly believe that they are his most holy Body and Blood living and true." , Revie~v for Religious These three sentences from Francis's Admonitiones provide insight into his understanding of a Spirit-filled life. We could concentrate on these thoughts about Jesus' humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability, or we could focus on his encouragement of "adoration," that primary Spirit-inspired activity which many commentators consider the heart of his theology of prayer. There is another, more noteworthy contribution, however, that Francis makes to Christian spirituality, one that gets overlooked: his concern that our lives be conformed to the Eucharist, that they somehow imitate the life of the Eucharistic Christ. Curiously, very little has been written about this, possibly because of that troublesome word imitation, a word Francis never uses and one that enters strongly into the vocabulary of Christian spirituality only in the 14th, not the 13th, century.15 The more common word for this was conformity. Bernard of Clairvaux says wonderfully that Christ is the form to which deformed man must conform in order to be reformed. One is called to bring one's form into line with the form that is Christ. In the spiritual literature of the time, this is brought about by the work of the Holy Spirit. Contemplation of Christ in the Eucharist, contemplation with "spiritual eyes," is primarily the Spirit's doing.16 In Francis's understanding of the call, the Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. The Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 1461 The Gift of Priesthood This brings us to selections from Francis's last two writings, the first of which is actually a return to Francis's very last, his Testament, with which these reflections began. After reflecting upon the gift of faith, Francis continues: Afterwards the Lord gave me--and gives me still-- such faith in priests who live according to the rite of the holy Roman church because of their orders that, were they to persecute me, I would still have recourse to them. And if I had as much wisdom as Solomon and found .impoverished priests of this world, I would not preach in their parishes against their will. And I desire to respect, love, and honor them and all others as my lords. And I do not want to consider any sin in them because I discern the Son of God in them and they are my lords. And I act thus because in this world I see nothing corporally of the Most High Son of God except his most holy Body and Blood which they receive and they alone administer to others. It is a rather curious statement coming from a man facing death, one that contains bits and pieces that tantalize biographers of Francis and historians of the Franciscan movement. There are sufficient anecdotes in the early lives of Francis to suggest that he was indeed ridiculed, abused, and demeaned. More significant are the number of papal decrees insisting that Francis and his brothers be given permission to preach, suggesting that doors were indeed being slammed in their faces. The dying Francis transcends all this and leaves as his legacy an example of "respect, love, and honor" for priests as those who are his superiors, his "lords." Once again that refrain surfaces: "I see nothing corporaliter of the Most High Son of God." Here it does so in reference to priests, who "receive. and administer to others" the most holy Body and Blood of the Lord. All Review for Religious that he may have endured--persecution, being taken advantage of, imposed on--is put into context. Francis refuses even to take notice of a priest's sin--that judgment, he maintains, belongs only to God--because of the priest's sacerdotal intimacy with the Eucharist, with the Body and Blood of the Lord. Naive? Simplistic? Challenging? In our day especially, these attitudes seem unrealistic and, in light of recent scandals, disingenuous. To understand them, we must turn to passages from the last and perhaps most beautiful of Francis's writings, one that almost certainly was written at the same time as his Testament, that is, at the end of his life. Only a man comfortable with himself could have written The Letter to the Entire Order. While clearly written by the "inspirational" figure of the brotherhood, by Francis himself, the letter does not hesitate to admit to negligence or weakness, to being "ignorant or unlettered" and "useless and unworthy." Many of its themes resonate with Francis's earlier writings, especially those on the Liturgy of the Hours and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. The maturity of Francis's Eucharistic spirituality, however, appears clearly in this passage: Kissing your feet, and with all the love of which I am capable, I implore all of you brothers to show all possible reverence and honor to the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom that which is in heaven and on earth is brought to peace and reconciled to theall-powerful God. This comes from the Francis who a year or so earlier had the mystical experience of Greccio, where the Christ Child appeared in his arms. This comes from the Francis who shortly afterwards had that other mystical experience of Christ Crucified, which left him with the stigmata. This comes from the Francis who then composed one of the most mystical of all writings, The Canticle of Brother i147 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 148 Sun, where his vision of the peace and reconciliation brought by Christ to all creation is expressed in remarkable poetry. In light of this, what follows is one of his most penetrating challenges: In the Lord I also beg all my brothers who are, or who will be, or who desire to be priests of the Most High that, whenever they want to celebrate Mass, pure themselves, they offer the true sacrifice of the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ with purity and reverence, with a holy and unblemished intention, not for any worldly reason or out of fear or love of someone, intending to please human beings. But, desiring by the sacrifice to please only the most high God himself, let every will be directed to God as far as grace makes possible because there he himself acts alone as he pleases. Here we see the call of the priest to live corporaliter in light of the life corporaliter of Christ now revealed in the Eucharist. The call to purity and to celebrate with purity, the call to be single-minded, and the call to have my every desire directed by God comes from an ongoing call to conversion. The example of the reverence of Mary, the Mother of God, and of the Baptist help bring that call to us. Francis's challenge is simple yet profound: "See your dignity, my brothers [who are] priests, and be holy because He is holy. As the Lord God has .honored you above all others by this ministry, for your part love, revere, and honor him above all others. It is a great misery and a miserable weakness when you have him present in this way and are concerned with anything else in the whole world!" Tree-Huggersmbut Much Much More What does Francis of Assisi, a medieval, Umbrian- Italian mystic offer to American priests in this vital endeavor? My good friend Luke Patrick O'Connell once Review for Religious teased me by characterizing Franciscans as "tree-huggers." Luke, however, was introducing a rather profound discussion on the theological concept of charism. He was attempting to draw me out on what the followers of Francis contribute today to the life and growth of the church. It is a good question, one with which I continue to struggle on many different levels. Pope John Paul once observed that what makes Francis of Assisi so appealing to people of all ages and cultures is his dominant image of God: the One who is all good. "It is what makes you optimists," he suggested, "and, therefore, prophets of hope." Francis's biographers Thomas of Celano and Saint Bonaventure wrote that "he savored in each and every creature, as in so many rivulets, the Fountain of Divine Goodness." In Francis's own writings, however, it is clear that he found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. In the light of that gift, the daily revelation of God's incredible goodness in his Son, the priesthood became for Francis a reflection of what Eucharist is all about: God's daily humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability. In a word, the Christ of the Eucharist defines the priest! One's sacerdotal character must be molded by the Eucharistic Jesus, who each day places himself in the hands of this priest. Clare of Assisi frequently comes to mind in pondering the mystery of a vocation. Clare begins her own Testament Francis found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. 1149 6Y. 2 2006 Ar~nstrong ¯ Francis~s Cbaris~n, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist reflecting on the role Francis played in that call. She writes: "Among the other gifts we have received and do receive each day, and for which we must express the deepest thanks to our glorious God, there is our vocation, which the more perfect and greater it is, the more are we indebted to him. Therefore the Apostle [writes]: 'Recognize your vocation.'" In her theology, the vocation is given anew each day and demands each day our most profound thanks. For a priest, Francis would add, each day that gift and that gratitude for the priesthood grow in intensity as the daily celebration of the Mystery of Faith ever so gently teaches the priest its meaning. Thus he writes: Let everyone be struck with fear, the whole world tremble, and the heavens exult when Christ, the Son of the living God, is present on the altar in the hands of a priest! O wonderful loftiness and stupendous condescension! O sublime humility! O humble sublimity! The Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God, so humbles himself that he hides himself under a little piece of bread! See the humility of God, brothers, and pour out your hearts before him! Humble yourselves that you may be exalted by him! Hold back nothing of yourselves for yourselves, that he who gives himself totally to you may receive you totally! Notes ~ Information on charisms may be found in Elizabeth McDonough, "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52 (1993): 646- 659. Review for Religious 2 Die Opuscula des H1. Franziskus yon Assisi: Neue Textkritische Edition, ed. Kajetan Esser (Grottaferrata, Rome: Collegio S. Bonaventura di Quaracchi, 1976). This text was the basis for Francis" and Clare: The Complete Works, trans, and intro, by Regis J. Armstrong and Ignatius C. Brady (New York: Paulist Press, 1982). All translations from the writings of Francis and Clare are taken from this volume, though sometimes modified. 3 Gregory the Great, LiberResponsalis (PL 78,804). 4 Arnulphe de Boeriis, Documenta Vitae Religiosae (PL 184, 1177): "Deinde, veniens ad ecclesiam, pone manum super ostium, et dic: Exspectate hic, cogitationes malae, intentiones et affectus cordis, et appetitus carnis. Tu autem, anima mea, intra in gaudium Domini Dei tui, ut videas voluntatem Domini, et visites templum ejus. Sicque veniens ante crucem dic: 'Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.'" (Coming to a church, put your hand on the door and say: Wait here, evil thoughts, intentions, and inclinations of my heart and desires of my flesh. You, though, my soul, enter into the joy of the Lord your God, so that you may see the Lord's will and enter his temple. And so, coming before the cross, say: "We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.") s See Franqois de Beer, La Conversion de Saint Francois (Paris: ]~ditions Franciscaines, 1963). 6 "Assisi Compilation" 60, in The Founder, Vol. 2 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William J. Short (Hyde Park, New York: New City Press, 2000), pp. 162-163. 7 For the texts of both Canon 20 of the Fourth Lateran Council and Sane cure olim or Expectavimus bactenus of Innocent III, see The Saint, Vol. 1 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents (Hyde Park: New City Press, 1999), pp. 53c. 55a. Hereafter The Saint. 8 See The Saint, pp. 54-55. 9 See The Saint, pp. 52-53. ~0 See Regis J. Armstrong, "The Prophetic Implications of the Admonitions," in Francescanesimo e Profezia (Roma: Laurentianum, 1986): pp. 386-464. ~ Thomas F. Torrance, "The Epistemological Relevance of the Holy Spirit," in God and Rationality (London: Oxford University Press, 1971), pp. 165-192. t2 For a full exposition of the theme, see Optatus van Asseldonk, "The Spirit of the Lord and Its Holy Activity," Greyfriars Review 5 (1991): 103-158. ,3 Karl Rahner, The Trinity, trans. Joseph Donceel (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970); "Remarks on the Dogmatic Treatise 'De 151 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Frands's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Trinitate,'" Theological Investigations, Vol. 4 (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), pp. 77-102. 14 Karl Rahner, "The Doctrine of the 'Spiritual Senses' in the Middle Ages," Experience of the Spirit: Source of Theology, Vol. 16 of Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 104-134. ~s Edouard Cothenet et al., Imitating Christ, vol. 5 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 1974); Andr4 Rayez, "The Golden Age of Medieval Devotion: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries," in Jesus in Christian Devotion and Contemplation, vol. 1 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1974), pp. 44-85. ~6 This sentiment finds an echo in John Paul II's Dominicae Coenae: "Eucharistic worship., is precisely the expression of that love which is the authentic and deepest characteristic of the Christian vocation . A living fruit of this worship is the perfecting of the image of God that we bear within us, an image that corresponds to the one that Christ has revealed to us." Quoted in L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 26 January 2005, p. 12. Palm Sunday Dear Lord, ride into my heart today on the stubborn mule of my own self-rule. These garments strewn along your way are the little things to which my will clings. 0 Christt. let your triumph be complete: let nothing remain proud, stubborn, or vain. I lie surrendered at your feet. Now, let my voice raise Hosannas of praiser. Agnes Cunningham SSCM Review for Religious ¯ JULIUS D. LELOCZKY Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation The great Carmelite martyr St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, better known as Edith Stein, wrote somewhere: "The imitation of Mary includes the imitation of Christ because Mary is the first Christian to follow Christ. Indeed, that is why the imitation of Mary is relevant not only to women but to all Christians." Let us meditate briefly on how religious life can be an "imita-tion of Mary." From all eternity Mary was chosen by God to be the mother of the Redeemer, and she was called at the annunciation. We, too, have been chosen and called: "God chose us in Jesus Christ before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him" (Ep 1:4). By this call and her response, Mary became a daughter of God in a special way; she became the new, obedient Eve. Just as Mary must have Julius D. Leloczky OCist joined the Cistercians in Hungary in 1953, later studied in Rome, and in 1964 was sent to the abbey where he continues to live: Cistercian Abbey; 3550 Cistercian Road; Irving, Texas 75039. 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation wondered why was she chosen, we, too, can ask our-selves: "Why me? Out of the millions of people, why me?" The answer is that it is a mystery, the mystery of love. What happens to us is what happened to the rich young man: "Jesus looked at him, and he loved him" (Mk 10:21). The call of each of us is a call for a unique, spe-cial task, one that no one else can accomplish. Our response should mirror the love of the One who called us, but we are called not just to do a job; we are called to give a loving response. The call has, like a coin, two sides: we are called away from something and we are called to do something, called for something. From the moment the angel appeared to Mary, her whole life was changed. She was no longer her own person, she belonged to Someone else. We have been called away from the average or "normal" way of life, from starting a family, from having a civilian job, from having our own home, car, property. We have been called to a loving unconditional surrender, offering ourselves as Mary did: "I am the maidservant of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word." We have been called for a life-long adventure of love, and we do not know where this love will take us. As religious, we have been called to conceive the Word of God in our heart and soul. This conception is "virginal" because it takes place entirely between God and ourselves, without the intervention of anybody else. We have been called to give the Word of God, the Son of God, to others. We can do it only if first we ourselves have conceived Him, carried him in the womb of our soul, nurtured him, let him grow inside us, from our-selves-- if not from our flesh and blood, certainly from our personality. Just as Jesus must have had much like-ness to his Mother, the Word growing within us will take on our likeness. This Word, however, is not just an intel- Review for Religious lectual idea. It does not reside only in our intellect; it must penetrate our entire being, our whole existence. Disciples are not tape recorders to replay the words exactly as we heard them. Sifted through our personali-ties, God's words have to take on the special shade or tint of what we are as persons, just as the gospel of Jesus Christ is different from the pen of Mark and John. Mary's virginity was fruitful; the unmarried state of a religious also must be fruitful. Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmar-ried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. They do not give up either love, pas-sion, or motherhood or fatherhood. They just practice them in a dif-ferent way, living, by God's grace, their ability to love on a higher level. Their fruitfulness realizes itself in two ways. Like Mary, they become mothers of the Word of God, and mothers or fathers of many spiritual children. The birth of a child is preceded by birth pangs. No one expressed more dramatically the pain of giving birth to God's word than Jeremiah: "O Lord, you have deceived me, and I let myself be :deceived. You are stronger than I, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all the day. Everyone mocks me . If I say, 'I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,' there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot bear it" (Jr 20:7,9). To give birth to God's Word is a painful but irresistible duty. It is painful to commu- Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmarried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. 65.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation 1,56 nicate the Word to others; it is difficult to put Christ's message into human words, to pass on to others Jesus himself and not just our own ego. It can be painful to give Jesus to others, because some people will not accept him, will show a hostile attitude toward him and us, will resist and reject him and us. Yet we have to go on, to continue undeterred, remembering God's word to Jeremiah: "And I, behold, I make you this day a forti-fied city, an iron pillar, and bronze walls, against the whole land" (Jr 1 : 18). If we proclaim God's word, we become parents, and those who listen to us will become our children. This is so even in the case of contemplative religious. It is not by accident that St. Th~r~se of Lisieux has been chosen the patron saint of the missions. If we think back to our young years, we can recall some special persons in our lives whom we can consider our spiritual mothers or fathers. As we advance in age, the roles become reversed, and we should be spiritual parents for others. But it is a frightening realization that we proclaim the Word more by our deeds than by our words; our words and deeds should communicate the gospel message in perfect har-mony. St. Paul dared to set himself as a model for the early Christians. "Imitate me," he wrote. We may shy away from saying the same, but we know that our words will be credible only if they are lived and made a reality in our daily lives. Just as Mary was with Jesus at the wedding at Cana, so she is with us in our apostolic prayer and activity. When we are in any special need, she will tell her Son: "They have no wine." Just as in Cana, with the refined sense of a woman, a housewife, a mother, she perceives if something is missing, if there is a problem, and she will intervene. And, even if Jesus showed some reluc-tance first, Mary knows that her Son will help, and she Review for Religious will tell us to "do whatever he tells you." The interven-tion of the saints is powerful, but the efficiency of Mary's intercessory prayer is unparalleled. Just recall the words of the famous Memorare prayer of the great Cistercian saint Bernard of Clairvaux: "Never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection was left unaided." A mother's life is an unstoppable process of gradual separation from her child. Only during pregnancy can she have the feeling that the child is completely hers. After the baby has been born, as the child is growing, it will spend more and more time away from home, away from its mother. During adolescence the child will claim an ever greater independence. After he or she finishes school and starts a family, the separation will be com-plete. Mary, too, had this painful experience. The twelve-year- old Jesus remained in the temple: "I must be in my Father's house." During his public ministry Jesus called his disciples mother and brothers and sisters, thus in a way pushing away from himself his biological family. On the cross, Jesus gave a mere disciple to his mother in place of himself. Look at Michelangelo's Pietb, this Magnificat prayer carved into marble, and see Mary's generous surrender. Even after all her trials and suffer-ings, she was still the humble handmaid of the Lord. There are two ways of experiencing this separation: (a) to live without the experience of Jesus' presence or close-ness and (b) to allow our spiritual children to grow up and go off and live their lives. Mary, by her suffering and agony, added something to the redeeming sufferings of her Son. Similarly, by car-rying our daily crosses (their heaviness may change from time to time), we complement "what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). Our sufferings can be physical or spiritual or emotional. They may take the form of sickness, exhaus- 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation tion, frustration, or burnout, They may be caused by the very people for whose sake we are spending our days and burning our energies, as when the crowd shouted at Jesus, "Crucify him!" We may be attacked or accused without reason, we may be slandered, or we may feel abandoned as Jesus did when he cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" But we should not forget that the sadness lasted only three days. Imagine Mary's joy at Jesus' resurrection, at her encounter with her risen Son. The same joy is waiting for us. We just have to persevere, to continue imitating Christ by imi-tating Mary faithfully, day after day. 158 Prayer Slowly and meditatively pray the Memorare prayer. Remember, 0 most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercesson was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto you, 0 Virgin of virgins, my Mother; to you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. 0 Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen Review for Religious MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Just Because I Said So Sohifting numbers, median ages, and the geography f religious life over the past several decades and today as well do not cause me to pause and reflect on whether we have a future, as many religious have recently been wondering. I believe that religious life most defi-nitely does have a future. For each individual commu-nity, where that future goes must be carefully discerned in the Spirit. But there are other questions with less clear answers. What impels us to go on? What can we offer new members to quench their thirsty hearts once they join us? I would like to reflect on one word as the answer to both these questions--commitment. It is not a popular word today in a mobile and disposable society such as ours. The word commitment is at one and the same time a sign of contradiction to some and a challenge and cause for hope to many others. In some circles a lifelong com-mitment to religious life has fallen under examination in recent years. For my part, I cannot buy into the notion Mary Joseph Schultz SCC, president of Assumption College for Sisters, wrote for us in 2003. Her address is 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. 65.2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~tst Because I Said So of a limited commitment to religious life just as I can-not buy into the idea of a temporary marriage commit-ment. As religious we vow ourselves to a God unseen but not unknown. We embrace centuries-old charisms of peo-ple whose lives and lifestyles were shaped by grace amid definite historical settings and cultural needs. We set aside wealth, sexual activity, and the disposition of our own will in freely choosing poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence for life. It is imperative that we study our own com-mitments in gratitude--and that we find ways to convey its challenge, meaning, and joy to Generations X and Y-- if we truly have hope in our communities' future. Our brothers and sisters in community who celebrate fifty, sixty, and even seventy-five years of religious life overflow with peace and joy in their long, faithful, and fruitful commitments, just as their married counterparts do who celebrate their golden anniversaries. What is their secret? Why and how have they survived and thrived in a world of instant gratification, noise, infi-delity, moral weakness, and faltering leadership and through forty years of post-Vatican II experimentation, discussion, renewal, and change in their communities? They would probably answer the question very simply: "I am still here because I said I would be." Sefin Sammon, in his wise and prophetic book Religious Life in America, speaks of the impact of public commitment to the evangelical counsels: "In carrying out our ministry in a spirit of selfless service, we witness further to countercultural values. How? By avoiding the all too familiar and tragic betrayal of consecrated life that occurs when we give our heart away generously at the time of first commitment, and then take it back, bit by bit, with each passing year" (p. 92). Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, either in families or in society at large. Hedonism and Review for Religious materialism erode the very notion of a committed life. The rapidity and challenge of change surround every aspect of our culture today. Opting out of anything dis-agreeable or tiresome is only a mouse-click away. Young people are constantly in and out of hobbies, activities, and relationships without so much as a glance back-ward. Often parents try to be supportive by signing them up for lessons, buy-ing instruments and sports either in families or equipment and providing taxi service to and from in society at large. appointments and games. For the young, broad arrays of opportunity and experience soon become bor-ing- or become irritatingly impossible when parental money or patience runs short. Entering my community as an aspirant in my teens in the late 1960s, I truly aspired to living religious life. It was hard for me and for those my age to understand all the post-Vatican II talk about "returning to your foundress's charism." Certainly we should already be who we say we are! Why wouldn't we be, and how could we not be? Naive teenage questions. But, from the moment I left home to enter as a sophomore, my heart was com-mitted to my dream, and I was just a little puzzled by what I saw and heard going on around me. Wasn't every sister as committed as I thought she was or should be? Through the difficult weeks of homesickness, a cer-tain degree of stubbornness and a huge amount of grace sustained me. I knew my choice was right. From my early years my family realized that I was serious about being a sister. It was all I talked about and I only had to wait (impatiently) until I was old enough to be accepted. My Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, 65.2 2006 Scbultz ¯ s~ust Because I Said So ,° 1 21 older siblings at times "tested" me and offered their opin-ions about my leaving home at fourteen. But my parents were supportive in their quiet and undemonstrative way. They were proud of me, I knew, loved the sisters, and backed me up at each step. One day shortly before I was set to leave, my mother said, "You know, you really can change your mind. You don't have to go just because you said so." I believe she wanted to give me a last chance to back out with minimal embarrassment. My reply was simple: "I know, Morn, but I want to be a sister." From that day on no more was said. My father died a year later, and my mother was proud of my life choice. She later became a lay associate in my community. Mom's words often ring in my ears: "Just because you said so." Certainly I am not the same person I was at fourteen, but there are traces of that determined girl still inside. I am not the same person I was at final profession twenty-five years ago. But there is one thing I pray never changes, that I am a woman of my word. To me this is a very positive quality. While "just because I said so" can deteriorate into an authoritarian dictate held over the head of a student (and I confess to having resorted to it more than once in a classroom of questioning teens), these same words are to me a sign of fidelity and com-mitment. I gave my word and I intend to keep it, not grudgingly but joyfully. Whether from genetics or my serious temperament or both, when I tell someone I am going to do some-thing, I make it my business to follow through. This can lead to scrupulosity or unhealthy guilt if I am not care-ful. I can place unrealistic expectations on myself (or on others through transference) as I strive to pray for all the prayer requests, write all those notes, make those phone calls, or do those favors that I promised I would. As I have noticed, other temperaments seem to have no Review for Relig4ous problem breaking those promises, skipping those phone calls, or never getting back to me, but they also have fewer sleepless nights. I believe that giving my word to others is about the best I can give them. In this I share God's own view-- giving God's Word was the best of gifts. Giving my word to God on my profession day symbolized all of me with nothing held back. This perpetual commitment, lived out one day, one moment, at a time, is a beautiful gift that I hope to never take back or take for granted. Not knowing the trials, temptations, or dryness that lay ahead could not lessen the fullness of the gift. In fact it only served to increase the value. God took me at my word, and the journey of religious life has been remarkable. Unlike in a marriage vow, I am guaranteed the fidelity of my Partner, and if there is any cooling in the relationship it can only be on one side! "Just because I said so" is in itself hardly a solid enough motivation for perseverance. These words can easily reflect mere stubbornness or the desire to prove something to myself or others. I have seen some sisters leave the community, even after final profession, because this motivation to please self or a parent was the sole force behind their entering religious life. If love, humility, and grace do not underlie my words, then I am foolish and my life is a sham and an exercise in self-righteousness. Giving my word verbally and on the vow formula signed on the altar came after long years of trial and preparation. My commitment was not made as a naive religious wearing rose-colored glasses. I had seen many "heroes" leave the community, had watched the divi-siveness of Vatican II experimentation, and had been asked to step forward and take my place as a responsible member of the community. Publicly pronouncing the words "I vow to almighty God perpetual chastity, 6~ .2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~st Because I Said So poverty, and obedience" was the best I could do, then and now. I would do it all over again today, even know-ing what would lie ahead. I would once again give my word. At the time of my entrance, I believe I had it much easier because, while there were hundreds of communi-ties, my familiarity with them was very limited. Many girls entered a community whose members had taught them or with whom there was already a relative or a close association. This is not the case today, especially with so few religious left in the classrooms. A young person discerning religious life today has a greater challenge than I did forty years ago, partly because of the wide array, of choices open to her. Even after deciding to become a religious, someone could literally spend years of her life visiting monasteries and convents for "Come and see" weekends. With the easy availability of appeal-ing vocation literature and online access, a serious and thorough examination of multiple communities might even turn her into a delayed vocation! What is it that makes a young woman decide on a particular community? What makes a heart resonate and feel at home with one group rather than another? I feel that, when all is said and done, communities must sim-ply be who they say they are. Authenticity is the key that will unlock commitment. After forty years of communal soul-searching, it is time for communities simply to move on. It is time to claim who we are, corporately commit to the charism, and put all our energies into authentic liv-ing of our foundress's spirit here and now in the 21st century. There can be no going back. Now is the time for simply joining hands, holding tight, and boldly moving ahead according to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. This is the gift we have to offer new members, a gift that will enliven our future. Review for Religious Young people, seeking authentic community, will go where they find the real deal. And how can such a com-munity survive today except through common prayer, deep spirituality, shared vision and lifestyle, corporate witness, and joyful life in the Spirit of Jesus. This is what they seek, hoping against hope that such groups exist and will provide them with the challenge they desire so ardently. We have a responsibility to live up to our word. We are here because we said we would be. I am here because I said so. And is this not a Godlike quality--giving one's word? God's Word and our own are why we are all here in the first place. Personal Reflection / Group Conversation 1. What has been my experience of "growing into a com-mitment"? 2. What led me to joining this religious congregation of which I am a member? 65.2 2006 religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? implications In January 2002, I was in a bus on my way from Colombo to Kandy, Sri Lanka. Next to me in the same seat was a Buddhist monk. He was very friendly and kept me engaged in a lively con-versation on various matters about our two reli-gions till we reached Kandy, a journey of some three hours. At one stage he wanted to know why the cardinal archbishop of Boston had to resign (an issue widely reported in our local newspapers). I said that it was due to allegations (especially by the media) of his not having made responsible decisions regarding several errant priests of his archdiocese who were involved in sexual abuse. The Buddhist monk was visibly surprised, for till then he was of the opinion that the archbishop had to resign because he him-self was involved in sexual abuse. This Buddhist monk may be excused for his inaccurate impres-sion, but one wonders how many of our own Vimal Tirimanna wrote for us in May-June 2001. His address until October 2006 is Redemptorists; Frangipani; No. 80 Ampitiya Road; Kandy, Sri Lanka. Review for Religious Catholics, including religious and priests, are unaware of why Cardinal Law had to resign. If the factors and reasons that led him to resign from the prestigious Archdiocese of Boston had been applied to various other bishops and religious superiors around the world today, one wonders how many would have had to follow Cardinal Law and resign their posts. It is no exaggeration to say that, in cases of sexual abuse and also in other crucial areas of priestly and religious life, a good number of church leaders are badly wanting in their pas-toral responsibility and accountability towards their sub-jects and institutes. This arises from not making responsible timely decisions, decisions that ought to have been made for the common good of the diocese or reli-gious congregation and for the good of the church. Note that in this article we are not dealing with an occasional failure to make a responsible decision, which is some-thing normal since bishops and superiors are human; we are dealing with habitual negligence to make decisions on the part of bishops and religious superiors. Consistent, habitual evasion of making decisions has contributed immensely to the contemporary difficulties in priestly and religious life and in church life in general. This is the main point of this article. I write this article from my fifteen years of experi-ence as a retreat preacher to the clergy (both diocesan and religious) in Sri Lanka and elsewhere, and also from the experience I gained from my close association with major superiors as president of the Conference of the Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka (for two terms, four years) and from being the major superior of the Redemptorists in Sri Lanka (for three terms, nine years). I limit myself here to consecrated life and then to show-ing how the irresponsibility and unaccountability of a good number of religious superiors have contributed to 6Y.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 168, the present disturbed state of consecrated life. I will ana-lyze briefly what authority means in the Christian tradi-tion, and then I will try to show how secular democratic political trends have affected the role of superiors, how their craving for popularity among their subjects has often inhibited them from making many a vital consci-entious decision. I will show that in these situations it is impossible for prophetic and diplomatic roles to func-tion simultaneously. I will conclude by highlighting the need today for religious superiors to make conscientious, pastoral, and courageous decisions for the sake of the common good of their institutes, and thus give prophetic leadership to today's world. Authority in the Christian Tradition Jesus clearly condemns oppressive and despotic power wielded by the rulers of nations (Mk 10:42). He tells his disciples who were arguing about which of them was the greatest that he who wants to be great must make him-self the least of all and serve others (Mk 9:33-35). For him, true authority is for service in truth, as he so tellingly demonstrated throughout his earthly life, which reached a climax at the last supper when he washed the feet of his own apostles (Jn 13:115). Emulating Jesus' teaching, the Christian tradition has always held that authority is for service. Accordingly, all leaders, civil as well as ecclesiastical, are expected to be servants of the common good of the group that is entrusted to them. A New Testament image dear to the early Christian community was Jesus the good shepherd. This is shown especially in the frescoes in the early catacombs. A shep-herd carrying a sheep on his.shoulders is a common fig-ure in those early places of worship. In fact, the concept of shepherd or "p, astor" and the adjective "pastoral" are woven into our inherited tradition regarding authority. ¯ Review for Religious To be a pastor or shepherd is to take flocks to where there is food and water, looking out for their safety and well-being. In our Christian tradition, leadership, whether in consecrated life or in a diocese, requires the care, compassion, and concern of a shepherd towards his sheep. The well-being of the flock and of each individ-ual sheep ought to be the - - - shepherd or pastor's top priority. If shepherds or pastors are more concerned about themselves, they cease to be shepherds and become hirelings concerned first of all with fattening themselves (see Ezk 34, Jn - - 10:7-18). Superiors, then, are supposed to be shepherds, serving the flock entrusted to them, not seeking their own good, not even their own survival. It is, of course, true that consecrated life has changed drastically in our day and so has the style of community leadership. It is sufficient to compare and contrast the era before Vatican Council II and afterwards. No one would argue today for the type of leadership that was prevalent in consecrated life before the council. It is also true that the way "authority" and "leadership" are under-stood varies from culture to culture. Regardless of the differences in worldviews and the ways of exercising authority, one essential and undeniable element of authority is that superiors' decision making must be for the common good. In the church in general and in con-secrated life in particular, such decision making is vital. After the initial stages of involving as many members as possible in the decision-making process, religious supe-riors must not abdicate their own decision making under any pretext. If they do so, they cease to serve the good of The Christian tradition has' always held that authority is for service. 6L2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 170 the community. This was expressed well in the instru-mentum laboris of the ordinary assembly of the Synod of Bishops held in 1994, on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World": The role of authority is that of a sure and authorita-tive guide, of inspiration and encouragement, so that an environment of fraternal communion can be cre-ated, one which can facilitate personal spiritual growth and the fulfillment of the apostolic mission, without, however, declining the responsibility to decide when-ever necessary. (§59) The postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (1996) of Pope John Paul II said: While authority must be above all fraternal and spir-itual, and while those entrusted with it must know how to involve their brothers and sisters in the deci-sion- making process, it should still be remembered that the final word belongs to authority and, consequendy, that authority has the right to see that decisions made are respected. (§43, emphasis in the original text) Superiors Seeking Popularity in Their Communities The latter decades of the 20th century are noted for the spread of democracy in different parts of the globe. Democracy has become a universally accepted human value. Even countries that are not yet democratic are striving, indeed yearning, for it. This is surely a wel-come change for the whole of humanity. Normally democracy not only guarantees human rights on the basis of individuals' inherent dignity, but also for the com-mon good assures the participation of every citizen in the political decision making. Since democracy assures citizens' right to change those in authority after an agreed term of office, those officials normally spend a lot of their energy and resources to be popular, for it is their popularity that ensures their success at elections. Rarely do they offend citizens in public or make unpop- Review for Religious ular decisions even when such decisions are necessary for the common good. If they do, their very survival is at stake. With the mass media often playing the role of watchdog, political leaders today are pressured to say and do the "politically correct" thing. The phrase is fast becoming common parlance. The more "politically cor-rect" you are, the more popular you become. Political leaders who dare to make unpopular decisions, even though such decisions are dictated by their consciences and demanded by the common good, are being thrown out of office. Parallel to happenings in the secular world are some of the ways that religious congregations do things. Thanks to Vatican II, gone are the rigid (and sometimes absurd) practices that marked consecrated life in the years before the council. Although religious congrega-tions cannot be considered democracies in a literal sense, wider participation in congregational and community decision making has brought a lot of relevance and good sense to consecrated life. Today sensible persons heave a sigh of relief and thank God that most of the irrational and dictatorial ways of being a religious superior are over. Today religious superiors are really meant to serve the common good of the flock entrusted to them. The secular concept of democracy surely has had a positive influence on these changes in religious life. Our own experience during the past couple of decades, however, shows that the same concept of democ-racy also seems to have had a negative effect on many religious superiors. Just as secular political leaders earnestly seek popularity, and survive and eventually move up the political ladder because of their popularity, today's religious superiors often seem to seek such pop-ularity within their own congregations for their mere survival and sometimes for their upward mobility either !171 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 172 in the congregation or in the hierarchy. Many of our contemporary religious superiors are doubly careful not to make "politically incorrect" decisions that would make them unpopular among the members of their congrega-tions and thus bring about their own downfall. The wider consultations (and, in many congregations, elections) that since Vatican II are rightly carried out in electing or appointing religious superiors seem to put the supe-riors in a dilemma. On the one hand, to be elected or reelected, they have to be popular or well accepted. On the other hand, to be popular or well accepted, they have to play to the gallery by not making decisions that would upset the majority of the members. Note that by "pop-ularity" I do not mean the mere acceptability of superi-ors to the other members of the community, which is a must in consecrated life. I mean the kind of "popular-ity" that is gained by not offending numbers of influen-tial people. People accrue such "popularity" by not making decisions that are badly needed for the common good--even when their conscience prompts them to do so. They avoid certain good decisions simply because they would offend the majority of the members. It is a "popularity" that is gained and sustained by pandering to a lumpenproletariat. The more superiors do not make deci-sions that would make them unpopular with the major-ity, the more acceptable they become all around. The more they evade their bounden duty to make decisions that could make them unpopular, the greater their chances of getting reelected or reappointed. This is why today, in quite a number of congregations, we hear mem-bers saying: "We made sure to have so-and-so elected because we are sure he (or she) will not rock the boat." To illustrate the point here, let us look at the now popular sabbaticals. Is it always those who really deserve a real break after a tedious involvement in the congre- Review for Religious gational apostolate who get a sabbatical today? Are all those who go for sabbaticals the "burnt-out" persons? What about the way some superiors treat members who complain that they lack self-fulfillment? Are they not fre-quently permitted to find their "self-fulfillment" by get-ting into any and every personal apostolate or pet project, even when these cut them off from their communities? Today it is not uncommon to send abroad for higher stud-ies persons who are erratic or wanting in their basic reli-gious commitment. The persons concerned may not even have the capacity for studies, but to some superiors this seems a diplomatic way of handling the problem, at least temporarily. They do not realize or do not wish to real-ize that such evasions leave the problem for their suc-cessors in office. Such ways of acting are neither just nor charitable even from the point of view of the persons thus treated. Instead of addressing the real problem of the person with genuine charity and justice, they tem-porarily circumvent the issue, not out of sympathy, but instead out of concern for their own survival. Regrettably, avoiding good hard decisions has become an accepted way of being "politically correct" in consecrated life today. So has making decisions that are only temporarily satis-factory, and may be disastrous in the long run. In both these cases, the problematic root is "political correct" words and deeds or superiors' spui'ious "popularity." Prophecy and Diplomacy Do Not Sit Well Together But is conscious evading or circumventing of deci-sions morally correct? Is it the way to be prophetic? Time and again one hears it said: "Well, this is the way things have turned out in consecrated life today, and so what can we do?" "This is the way even most of the bish-ops act, and so what is wrong if our own religious supe-riors do the same?" Unfortunately, this way of looking at 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 174 1 things seems to ignore the very nature and purpose of consecrated life. From its very origins, one of the char-acteristics of consecrated life has been its prophetic nature. Pope John Paul II in his ~ta consecrata enunciated this point well: There is a prophetic dimension which belongs to the consecrated life as such, resulting from the radical nature of the following of Christ and of the subse-quent dedication to the mission characteristic of the consecrated life. The sign value, which the Second Vatican Council acknowledges in the consecrated life, is expressed in prophetic witness to the primacy which God and the truths of the gospel have in Christian life. (§84) A careful scrutiny of history would show us how, at different moments of decadence in church life, it was consecrated life that raised the church out of decadence through its witnessing, thus giving the church prophetic leadership: In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission, since it "manifests the inner nature of the Christian calling" and the striving of the whole church as Bride toward the union with her one Spouse. At the Synod it was stated on several occasions that the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God, since it is an inti-mate part of her life, her holiness, and her mission. (~ta consecrata, §3; emphasis in the original) So, to argue that the superiors are only emulating the way things are done by the hierarchical church lead-ership is not correct, for consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. As the late moral theologian Father Bernard Hiiring often told his students, prophecy and diplomacy (in today's parlance, "politically correctness") do not and Review for Religious cannot sit together comfortably. One has to give way to the other. A good number of contemporary religious superiors fail to make proper decisions because they wish to be "politically correct." Thus they not only betray their own vocation to be prophetic, but they gravely damage the common good of the communities entrusted to them. Besides, if a religious superior is supposed to be a pastor, then he has the bounden duty towards the well being of the members. This duty includes fraternal cor-rection. If members go astray and deviate from the group's charism, it is the duty of the shepherd (the reli-gious superior) to begin fraternal correction in charity, even if it hurts. The supe-rior owes such correction to the individuals and the group. Their integral well-being as consecrated peo-ple is one of the superior's top priorities. If superiors shirk this difficult role of fraternal correction in order to be "politically cor-rect," they have no right to Consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. remain in office, because they have failed in their pri-mary duty of working towards the well-being of the con-gregation and the church. Superiors who do not have as their goal the common good of the congregation and the church contribute to their decadence. Instead of swimming against the popular secular currents, they clearly betray the consecrated prophetic life so well explained by Pope John Paul II: In our world, where it often seems that the signs of God's presence have been lost from sight, a convinc-ing prophetic witness on the part of consecrated per- 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? sons is increasingly necessary. Consecrated per-sons are being asked to bear wimess everywhere with the boldness of a prophet who is unafraid of risking even his life. (VC §85) Prophetic Leadership Will the majority of superiors in consecrated life con-tinue to allow the secular democratic political trends to be their model in the coming years? Or will they give prophetic leadership to their own communities by acting according to the moral norms of what is right and wrong? Will they act for their own "good" or for the common good of their institutes? The writer is con-vinced that it is high time that religious superiors become more responsible and accountable in their decision mak-ing as animators, and thus allow their consciences, their specific religious charisms, and the common good to be the norms in their decision making. The norm of being "politically correct" should be the last in their list of pri-orities, for they are certainly not to be "politicians" who eagerly seek popularity, as in the secular world. In this way, they not only will arrest the decline in the quality of contemporary consecrated life, but will also be giving prophetic leadership to the church and the world. 176 Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Before Vatican Council II most Catholic priests, eligious, and laypeople had no "identity crisis." We knew who we were, our place seemed well defined, and we had no impending threat of change. Our per-sonal identity and our .social identity were clear and unthreatened, It may, however, be a good thing that after the council we had to take a close look at our identity. Perhaps we ought to question the quality of our earlier identity. Did it show signs of the identity claims that Pharisees made in Christ's time? They and the scribes were quite self-assured groups. Some of us were, too, maybe to the point of blind confidence in our identity. Among religious there was a saying:?'Keep the Rule and the Rule will keep you." It was, we can see now, a dan-gerous motto, even though it assured our identity. St. Paul, who had been a strict Pharisee, came to realize the danger. Brendan Kneale FSC taught for many years at Saint Mary's College of California. Now retired, he lives at De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among, Nonclerical Religious What should have happened after Vatican II was a strengthening and sharpening of our identity. Unfortunately, that was not the popular perception of the changes that had been made. Even though changes initiated by the council were intended as clarifications and improvements, we tended to feel, instead, that things were no longer well defined. Shortly after the council, we heard of religious teachers here or there whose dress, teaching, and behavior led students to express surprise that they were religious or even Catholics. After Vatican II, people asked, "Is this the same church?" Some religious and priests asked, "Is mine the same apostolate?" "Is my school or hospital still Catholic?" "Is there any longer a place for the conse-crated life?" After Vatican II many teachers wondered, "Does the syllabus for my catechetical instruction in the classroom truly represent what I believe?" Or "Are all the liturgical innovations good?" And religious asked, "Have laypeople taken over our role?" "Who am I now?" A Definition of Identity It would be refreshing if all who talk about "iden-tity" were really sure what they are talking about. Few people have a clear definition of the term. In various contexts we confuse identity with "self-image" or "per-sonhood" or "character," or perhaps with "individual-ity," "uniqueness," or an adopted "persona." Fortunately, there are careful thinkers available to address the prob-lem of identifying identity. We are told that Erik Erikson, the psychologist who coined the term "identity crisis" (right after Vatican II, significantly), believed that an identity crisis is "the most important conflict human beings encounter." His defi-nition of psychological identity ran as follows: "a sub-jective sense as well as an observable quality of personal Review for Religious sameness and continuity, paired with some belief in the sameness and continuity of some shared world image." Such a definition has the virtue of pointing squarely at both personal and social identity, that is, both private and public. Lexicographers agree that there are two chief emphases in the notion of identity. Etymologically "iden-tity" (from the Latin idem, the same) is, first of all, an enduring and distinctive individuality and, second, a social or relational "belonging." That is, peo-ple are identifiable by their unique and continu-ing sameness (generally indicated by a permanent - name and fixed array of recognizable psychological traits), and they are identifiable by what membership they have within a recognized group. Thus, in answer to "Who are you?" we will give our name to help the questioner to recall our uniqueness, or we will describe (if our uniform does not indicate it) what recognizable place we occupy in a clear social category. Thus we have a private identity and a public identity. Note that the two identities support each other. In fact, an African proverb has it that "I am because we are." A way to gain insight into identity is to contrast it with related ideas. We should try to keep the terminol-ogy clear about what identity is not. It is not "charac-ter," which is "a constellation of enduring motivational and other traits that are manifested in the typical ways that we react to various challenges." Character, then, may be taken as the moral side of one's identity. Nor is identity simply "self." "Self is a unified being which is the source of an idiosyncratic consciousness, the agent We have a.private identity and a public identity. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious responsible for the thoughts and actions of an individual to which they are ascribed." Hence self is an abstract or generic term for "personal identity"; it is not the same as the important and complementary "social identity." None of the following words is a synonym for iden, tity. "Individual" is mostly a quantitative term; it is related to the words undivided and indivisible. "Person"~ is, according to Thomas Aquinas, "the individual substance of a rational soul" and does not disappear if one's identity is vague or shifting. "Personality" is something different; it includes the social as well as the more strictly personal. Dictionaries say that personality is the complex of char-acteristics that distinguishes an individual or a group or nation--but especially the totality of an individual's behavioral and emotional characteristics. Identity is at the core of this "complex of characteristics" (which makes the loss of identity a serious matter). "Persona" and "role" derive from drama, from play-acting, and are of co,urse the weakest versions of what we mean by identity. In an extended article in Consecrated Life 24, no. 2 (February 2003), Father Amadeo Cencini has developed the notion of social identity by emphasizing the id.entity which comes from "belonging." He uses that word because, in identifying ourselyes, we often specify the career, occupation, group, race, persuasion, and so forth to which we "belong." Those of us belonging to conse-crated life may identify ourselves as members of a named religious institute and belonging here or there within it. This answer makes our personal identity derivable, to some extent, from that of the larger group. Sometimes our identity is seen as tied to "our roots" within a social group. Suppose, however, that the group to which one iden-tifies oneself.as belonging (say, a religious institute) has itself no clear identity. If that group has an identity that Review for Religious is fuzzy or vague, then one of the two main sources of identity (namely, "belonging") is comproinised. A reli-gious institute could have evolved (perhaps calling the change "refounding the order") into something different from .what it was. Moreover, even the larger church, to which the institute belongs, could itself also change enough to confuse people about its own identity. For example, the church could seem to speak without a clear voice about itself, and an institute of consecrated life could becom~ canonically unsure about whether laypeo-pie are "members." Or it might interpret certain changes (like emphasis on adult education or on political involve-ment) as challenges to its identity as teachers of youth or caretakers of the sick. It could wonder if other forms of social service rather than classroom or hospital work should be what the church asks for. Official Ecclesial Positions Readers will know that since Vatican II the church has taken up the problem of identity officially and for-mally. The Vatican (following special synods of bishops) has published three clarifying documents, one each for the benefit of priests, laypeople, and religious. The doc-ument about religious is called ~ta consecrata (1996) and addresses the nature and identity of consecrated life. In particular, and depending heavily on the work of a pre-vious world synod of bishops, Vita konsecrata devoted its section 57 to the role of sisters and section 60 to broth-ers. These paragraphs include the following excerpts: By virtue of their dedication lived in fullness and in joy, consecrated women are called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother . Certainly the validity of many assertions relating to the position of 181 65.2 2006 Kneale * Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Relig4ous .women in different sectors of society and of the church cannot be denied . Women's new self-awareness helps men to reconsider their way of looking at things, the way they understand themselves, where thE)) place themselves in history and how they interpret it, and the way they organize social, political, economic, reli-gious, and ecclesial life . The consecrated woman . . . can help eliminate certain one-sided perspectives which do not fully rec-ognize her dignity and her specific contribution to the church's life and pastoral and missionary activity. Consecrated women therefore rightly aspire to have their identity, ability, mission, and responsibility more clearly recognized, both in the awareness of the church and in everyday life. The consecrated life by its nature "is neither lay nor clerical" . The "lay consecration" of both men and women constitutes a state which in its profession of the evangelical counsels is complete in itself. for the individual and for the church . . . apart from the sacred ministry. The synod expressed great esteem for the kind. of consecrated life in which r.eligious brothers provide valuable services of various kinds, inside or outside the community, participating in this way in the mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life. Although [lay institutes] perform many works in common with the lay faithful, [members] do so inso-far as. they are consecrated and thereby express the spirit of total self-giving to Christ and the church, in accordance with ~heir specific charism. The term "brother" suggests a rich spirituality. ¯ Brothers are an effective reminder to religious priests themselves of the fundamental dimension of brother-hood in Christ, to be lived among themselves and with every man and woman, and they proclaim to all the Lord's words: "And you are all brothers" (M(23:8). We might add that, when Father Amadeo Cencini wrote about the problem of identity, he called attention Review for Religious to the important role of an institute's charism--a point also emphasized in Vita consecrata. An obvious way to increase a sense of our belonging (and our identity) is by attachment to the institute's charism (provided that the corporate identity is itself clear). Cencini notes that some individual reli-gious are weakly con-nected to the charism of their institute, or hold divided loyalties, or, on the other hand, immerse themselves within it in a psycho-logically unhealthy way. We can recall in Some individual religious are weak!y connect, ed to the charism of their institute or hold divided loyalties. this connection the recommendations of the classic work The Future of Religious Orders in the U.S.: Transformation and Commitment by Father David Nygren and Sister Miriam Ukeritis. The proper connection to the charism and the best sense of belonging are to be found, says Cencini, by a deepening of one's attachment to the charism in three ways: by way of prayer and spiritual-connection, by ascetically conforming to the lifestyle of the institute's norms, and by real engagement in the common aposto-late. (Perhaps he could have added: study and grasp of the relevant literature.) This last point about "real engagement" raises an acute problem for some conse-crated religious: What identifies us as distinct from our secular associates and coworkers? If one uses a simply functional definition of our state, then the problem is indeed acute. Many of our secular associates, such as Gospel Catholics, practice in accordance with their voca-tions a chastity, obedience, and poverty that are often more difficult than ours. They sometimes show more 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious 184 talent, dedication, and leadership than their religious colleagues. If, however, we consider who we are and do not just look at our function, then we see a.radical dif-ference between us and them. If we are aware what we are in relation to the evangelical counsels and in rela-tion to auxiliary vows, what we are in terms of commu-nity life, what we are in relation to mobility, to the radicality, quality, and scope of our availability and ser-vice, then we should not have a problem. In addition tb ~vhat Cencini writes about an insti-tute's common and received charism, wecould emphasize the desirability of our contributing to the charism in some innovative way. If we could do that, it seems to me, we would increase our sense of belonging, and even of "ownership." Each of us should bring to the charism, by conscious effort, an enrichment that stems from our personal talents, from our studies, and from our auxiliary memberships in professional and religious associations (in relation to which we can see our own identity more clearly). Charism is not static. Individuals enrich the charisms of their communities. The differing charisms of various consecrated reli-gious groups illustrate a principle that helps clarify cor-porate identity, namely, the principle of an institutional subsidarity and "division of labor" within the church. Each institute has its own apostolic charism and thus its own responsibility. It is true that numerous apostolic needs are great and pressing, and occasionally they are overriding, but normally we keep our corporate identity by doing our own apostolic labor, not th

Issue 65.4 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Searching Wisdom Apprediating the Word ¯ Living Chastely QUARTERLY 65.4 2006 '~ 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 vlsaid~ 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 subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission tnust bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Claire Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVO Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.4 2006 contents prisms 342 searching wisdom On Leaving Office Gracefully Kathleen Hughes RSCJ suggests a three-stage process that any leadership team might use or adapt in order to consider their years of service and come to closure on a privileged and grace-filled time in their lives. 354 Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Thomas G. Casey SJ reflects on the importance of imitating Jesus by cultivating intelligence and nourishing wisdom, and suggests ways to go about it. Personal/Group Reflection Questions 365 appreciating the word ~ Andrew Ryder SCJ underlines the valuable Vatican II gift of the lectionary--the three-year cycle of Sunday readings, the two-year cycle of daily readings from the epistles and the Old Testament, and the one-year cycle of daily gospels--and its place in the tradition going back to Old Testament times. Review for Religious 375 Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation Brendan Kneale FSC reflects on the final four doctrines of the Apostles' Creed, developing the consolations that they entail for our deepest human concerns. Prayer Suggestion 382 God's Invitation Armand Nigro SJ has us listen to God's invitation to prayer. 384 living chastely Sexuality and Celibate Chasti.ty: Friends Not Foes Sefin D. Sammon FMS reviews the growth process in our understanding and appreciation of our sexuality and our celibate chastity in their mutual aim at union with God and others. Reflection and Discussion Questions 399 "Bride of Christ": Timely Sign in Signless Times? Annette M. Pelletier II-hVl examines how the signs, symbols, texts, and gestures in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" illuminates what it means to be a "bride of Christ." 414 "I Will Espouse You": The Religious Profession Ring Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR explains the origin, history, and meaning of the,religious profession ring. departments 423 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of Luke 427 Canonical Counsel: The Q.O.T. Principle 433 Book Reviews 445 2006 Indexes 339 prisms 340 Time is always with us. Sometimes we seem to have too much time, and we say that "it drags." Probably, more often, we claim that we have too little time, and we appear to be rushing around, just a little bit late for our next appointment. Although we don't ordinarily give much thought to it, there is another major difference about time. Some would see it as cyclic--what we allude to when we use the aphorism "What goes around comes around." Others would understand time as linear, like the flow of a river in whose same waters we can never step twice. Our Jewish-Catholic tradition has placed us peo-ple of faith solidly within the linear notion of time. We have but one life to live, all of its rela-tionships and its growth and its diminishment viewed within the prism of our own developing relationship with God. At first, it may appear that the church litur-gical year has opted for the cyclic model of time. With the celebration of the feast of Christ the King, we bring Ordinary Time to an end, and we begin again another liturgical year with the season of Advent, followed by Christmas, and eventually again the Lenten season, and so on. But as a time for personal growth, each season of the church year issues the call and challenge for us, not to repeat practices in a stimulus-response Review ~br Religion, s . sort of way, but to enter more responsibly and full-heart-edly into the daily mystery of a life with God. Just as we do not want to celebrate this Christmas with the exact same interior response that we had last Christmas, so, too, we do not want vow renewals, whether of marriage anniversaries or religious profession anniversaries, to be merely a repeat of where we were at that moment of the original ceremony. We have moved on, hopefully in the depth of our love and commitment. Only one thing is certain: we cannot remain exactly the same, since, in time, we are either moving forward--growing--or fall-ing back--diminishing or becoming less. Our use of time, then, needs to be regularly evalu-ated. At certain points within our daily lived experience, like the end of a project, the completion of a group activ-ity, a working together at an assigned task, we need to make an assessment. Every assessment follows basically the questions within the Ignatian daily examen. How has God been present to us within this time? How have we ignored or kept God from our ken? Have we grown in our relationship with God and with others through this time period? These questions are foundational as to our measurement of success or failure, how we have used our time, a precious gift of God to us. In the November time we remember the dead, those who have gone on before us. So, as we begin the new Advent and Christmas seasons, let us more eagerly look forward to meeting "in good time" our God of eternity. Time is God's gift of transport ever carrying us more quickly to our life with God forever--time without end. Our time now always needs its moments of celebration. Through the church year and through our workaday events, we take time to celebrate God's gifting. 341 David L. Fleming sJ 65.4 2006 KATHLEEN HUGHES searching wisdom On Leaving Office Gracefully Several weeks after five of us assumed positions of leadership in the United States Province of the Religious of the Sacred Heart, we each received a brochure for a workshop on "Transitioning Out of Leadership." We laughed a bit nervously, wondering how we got on that mailing list and who might be trying to tell us something! Six years later, however, we were ready for a pro-cess which would help us to leave office grace-fully, but soon we discovered that very little was available.~ While leadership transition has often been the subject of articles and workshops, gen-erally the focus is on identifying and equipping new leaders for the ministry which they have or will soon assume. The Leadership Conference of Women Religious of the United States, for example, annually offers an excellent seminar for new leaders whose goal is competence and skills in spiritual leadership, finance, canon and civil law, human development, and communica- Kathleen Hughes RSCJ was provincial of the Society of the Sacred Heart 1999-2005. Her address is Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural Research; P.O. Box 2000; Collegeville, Minnesota 56321. E-maih khughes@rscj.org Review for Religious tions. Team building is considered. Conflict resolution is explored. There is no shortage of articles, talks, seminars, and itinerant consultants, all of them promoting effective, even prophetic leadership within religious communities. One day, though, all that knowledge, all those skills, all the relationships which have developed, all the dis-cernment and decision~making and menial tasks that keep the machine well oiled stop abruptly. One day a ministry which has been all-consuming ends so suddenly that it could be likened to a trap door opening up and swallow-ing those above it. The former leaders get on planes or at least move across town, and the new leadership team move into their offices, probably freshly painted, with flowers on the desk. At the end of a leadership mandate there is both pres-sure and pride in leaving things in good order. Cleaning, sorting, and purging files takes time and the sound of shredding can be heard outside every office. The more important narrative and historic records are classified, labeled, and sent to the archives. Extraneous materials are eliminated from computers, especially all those e-mails that it once seemed so urgent to save. Leadership teams old and new meet together to discuss imminent concerns, financial realities, and personnel matters. Long-range planning, anniversaries pending, and events already on the calendar are noted. Members who are in transition in ministry, community, or for personal reasons are given special consideration. A final annual report is prepared, printed, and mailed. There is also the packing up and moving of each one's goods and paraphernalia, all the while wondering how so much accumulated. There is the physical move to a new community, quite possibly in a new city, the planning of a vacation or sabbatical, the reflection about a next min-istry, and the timing of it all. Finally there are the good- 6~.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully byes with their attendant lunches and dinners and the rituals of thanks which are particular to each leadership team. There is a lot to attend to in the final days. And because there is so much pressure at the end of a term to "leave the place in good shape," it is possible that the persons involved may not be in good shape at all or may walk away from office without ever actually leaving it. How do we prepare our own hearts for the handing over? Well before our term was up, we anticipated the need for a good process which would help us reflect on our years of service, imagine the future, and care for one another through the transition. This article will explore the three-stage process which we developed, a series of day-long conversations, spaced over many months, which helped us to hand over our work and come to closure on an important and grace-filled time in our lives. The first two "conversations" happened in the months before we left office; the final "conversation" happened six months later. 3441 Looking Back: Blessings and Bruises Much happens in the life of a community over a term or two in office. Sometimes experiences, events, and encounters are a source of great joy; at other times moments have been hurtful to those involved, however unintentional the pain. When leaving office it is impor-tant to look back at the blessings and the bruises in order to celebrate, to grieve, to repent, to forgive, and to give thanks--in about equal measure. It is often said that administrators spend ninety-five percent of their time on five percent of the people. Perhaps in religious life the percentages are a bit dif-ferent, but there is no doubt that much time and atten-tion are given over to people or situations of crisis. In the press of work in the day-to-day, it is possible to lose sight of the larger picture, the courageous growth, the Reviev~ for Religious fidelity to prayer, the simple generosity, the willingness to stay in dialogue during times of conflict, the healing that happens, the beauty and depth which conversations reveal, the opportunities to inspire and bless, the witness of long and faithful lives spent in service, the moments of insight, the risks taken and welcomed, all the tiny acts of kindness--all the blessings great and small that those in leadership experience happening in the membership and in themselves. The opportunity to serve in leadership is itself a great privilege and a blessing. The openness of the membership in speaking of their inner journey, their joys and their struggles, is deeply edifying. The amazing zeal for minis-try and witness for justice of some, the courageous battle with substance abuse of oth-ers, the struggle to under-stand what faith-filled living means in the midst of cul-tural and religious upheaval, the suffering borne with sweetness and peace, the courage in the midst of great personal darkness--each member, each story, each grace witnessed by those in leadership has been a blessing which changes them forever. In gathering the blessings of their years of leadership, the team rightly delight in their own a~complishments too: prayer fostered and deepened, initiatives begun, participation encouraged, staff strengthened, systems put in place, strides taken to assure financial solvency, and, above all, mission clarified, supported, and sustained. In addition, the unique contribution of each one on the leadership team to the work of the whole must be cel-ebrated. Members of a team are blessings to each other, especially in the darker times. Much happens in the life of a community over a term or two in office. 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully In looking back, there is also much to repent and to grieve about. Misunderstandings happen. We hurt each other by too hasty responses, by clumsy decisions unsea-soned by experience, by expectations which are too great or too small, by seeming indifference to suffering. We hurt each other by passing over gifts, by the triangula-tion of third-party conversations, by wielding authority in a sometimes autocratic manner. We hurt each other often more because of ignorance or lack of competence than negligence or malice--which does not make the pain any less. There is much to grieve about and to regret as lead-ers leave office, and much to learn in the letting go. A leadership team can help each other not to exaggerate bruises, to remind someone who feels deep regret that she did her best with the knowledge she had and, besides, that she can tease out of the situation some wisdom to use in the future. The team can remind one another that forgiveness and reconciliation do not happen because we will them but because time and grace make them pos-sible, perhaps long after the arbitrary date for a change of administration. Lines from Psalm 103 perfecdy capture the deepest real-ity: that the ministry of leadership is ultimately God's work. It is God who has blessed us and our community in so many ways; it is God who forgives and heals and makes whole when we have failed to be blessings for one another. My soul, bless the Lord, bless God's holy name! My soul, bless the Lord, hold dear all God's gifts! Bless God who forgives your sin and heals every illness, who snatches you from death and enfolds you with tender care, Review for Religqous who fills your life with richness and gives you an eagle's strength. Bless the Lord, ~ny soul.2 Looking Forward: Living Deliberately A second day-long conversation addresses the future with this question: How will I live my life differently because of these years of service? Leadership experi-ence cannot help but change those who serve. They have attended the school of life and love. They have been exposed to the best and the worst in human nature. In the process, convictions are formed about what constitutes holy healthy living. Before taking leave of service and of one's compan- - -- ions in leadership, talking together about newly formed convictions commits the speakers to embracing them as a way of life upon rejoining the general membership. Here are a few examples. Leaders may have developed a pattern of consistent common prayer which has sup-ported and sustained the team, built trust among them, helped them know and love each other in deep relation-ships, and, above all, convinced them that God is cen-tral to everything they do and every decision they take. Regular common prayer, in a word, has supported and sustained them in ministry. They know it is possible; they know it is necessary; they intend, in the communities they join, to negotiate ways of praying together in some con-sistent pattern. Leaders have had the privilege of seeing growth among the members. They have witnessed genuine con-version and new life, even among those who seemed to Leadership experience ;Cannot help but change those, who serve. 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully be mired in long-established patterns which had made many people give up on them. From the perspective of leadership, it is clear that "with God all things are pos-sible," and perhaps also with the love of others who bring people to new life. Giving people a chance to change and the space to let it happen in God's time becomes, then, a deliberate choice for the future. Another area of resolution may be in the way one decides, or not, to continue to take risks. Assuming lead-ership itself is a huge risk. Leadership candidates prob-ably asked themselves many questions before taking the leap of faith to congregational service: Do I have the gifts, the vision, the stamina, the public presence, even a thick enough skin? And what an amazing hundredfold is the return to those who accept service. Leaders may then decide to choose risk as a way of life, not settling down, not avoiding a new ministry or a move because it is too scary, not getting into set patterns which make them "stuck" where they are and less open to new possibili-ties, not anxiously calculating the competencies or energy needed for a new venture. "Risk as a way of life" implies that those who have completed leadership became secure in the "grace of office," that is, the promise of God's presence always, no matter the risk. No exceptions. Living deliberately in light of one's service may also include a commitment to participate actively in the life of the membership, responding to the initiatives of the new team, serving on committees and task forces, tuning in to teleconferences, sending a word of gratitude for work well done or a question or comment when solicited. A conversation about deliberate choices for the future is a way to capture the best insights of each team mem-ber after some years of sorting the wheat and the chaff of religious life. Here is a typical spill of intentions from such a conversation: Review for Religious. I will be grateful that others are willing to serve; I will try to participate attentively; I will be aware that there is always more to the story and at least as many sides as people involved; I will try to be simple and pare down; I will do my best, wherever I am, to make community happen; I will cherish relationships; I will remember that people appre-ciate a personal note of gratitude, congratulations, or condolence; I will try to be a healer; I may be "sadder and wiser," but I will draw on that wis-dom; I will be thoughtful and generous in using money; I will use my newly honed gifts and skills well; I will care for my health more intentionally; I will try to respect and validate the experience and insights of each one; I will be more attentive to the international dimension of the community; I will savor and delight in doing one thing at a time; I will do one "lovely thing" each day just for fun; I will wake up every day feeling responsible for a much smaller universe--my own! Such a conversation is wide and deep, and humorous too, and it moves the transition to a new phase. While a "bless-ings and bruises" conversation is a way of looking back and letting go, this second conversation about "living deliber-ately" moves a group beyond the mandate of leadership to imagining reintegration among the membership. Looking Within: Reflecting on the Present After a period of time out of office, a third conversa-tion makes the transition complete. On leaving community service the members of the leadership team choose their own ways of resting, recuperating~ and reorienting them-selves to "ordinary time." Even those individuals who con-tinue in leadership positions have a major transition and a lot of challenges, for a new configuration of members on i349 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully the leadership team supposes very different personalities, ways of making decisions, and styles of collaboration. Weeks immediately after passing leadership on can be vulnerable times. There may be a sense of loss at many different levels--relationships, security, even status. There may be endless time on Weeks immediately after passing leadership on, can be vulnerable times; one's hands and an inability to stop the engines which have been in overdrive for so long. There may be a loss of nerve, a questioning of one's gifts and compe-tencies and whether there is a ministry and/or a community where there is a fit. There may be relationships which need to be adjusted for greater mutuality. There are decisions about whether and how much to participate in the life of the community, particularly in order to give new leaders the freedom to blaze their own trail. On the other hand, one may feel passed over when not asked for a piece of wisdom that experience presumably taught. There may be the temptation to make comparisons, to judge new initiatives in the community before they have a chance to flourish, to think but never say aloud "That won't work. We tried that!" There may be the awkwardness of knowing too much along with a need to mourn no longer being part of the easy rapport of a team bound to confidentiality. Team members who have worked closely and intensely for a long time may delight in and greatly profit from an opportunity, perhaps six months after leaving office, to reunite for a day or a weekend. Each one, in turn, can reflect about the experience of the last few months and the challenges of transition, some of which only other for-mer team members can appreciate. Questions such as the l~eview for Religious following can prompt reflections which will be personal for each one and yet have some common elements: What has this transition been like? What has been the best part of moving out of leader-ship or, in the case of those who have continued to serve, what has been the best part of working with a brand new team? What has been challenging, for example, in ministry, community, prayer, recalibrating relationships, a different pace, not traveling, not knowing what is going on or, for someone who has joined the new team, knowing more than the rest of the team? What do I anticipate in the months ahead that may be important to name? Is there wisdom to share or to seek from the group? Where is God in all of this? Who is God in all of this? As each one speaks, others respond, question, affirm, and challenge, but mostly they listen with the ears of the heart and with the empathy borne of the deep bonds which close collaboration has forged. In the course of this conversation, the team is transformed into a group of friends whose support and affection will remain strong despite time and distance. The Importance of Ritual. There is a wonderful piece of wisdom in Herb Gardner's play A Thousand Clowns. One of the characters, Murray, says "You've got to know what day it is. You've got to own your days and name them, or else the years go right by, and none of them belongs to you.-3 Good ritual is what helps us "own our days and name them." Well-planned ritual brings to public expression the experience of the community and its members. All of the day-long conversations described above, for example, were framed 65.4 2006 Hughes * On Leaving Office Gracefully by ritual prayer, music, silence, breaking of bread, and blessing. How much more important it is to mark the transi-tion of leadership in the life of the whole community by a ritual adequate to the weight of the moment. Good preaching explores the Scriptures which have been cho-sen to illuminate the experience and the hopes of those gathered. The service of the outgoing leadership team is acknowledged with gratitude, and the future of each member is entrusted to God in prayer. The incoming leaders are blessed and publicly given the authority under the constitutions of the order for the exercise of their ministry. And the whole assembly commits itself to active participation in the governance of the community by say-ing its "Amen." Through strong ritual the leadership transition is accomplished. Transition is not just a private moment for the two teams involved, but an opportunity for all to deepen the bonds of their membership, to recom-mit themselves to their deepest call: The word "Amen" makes demands. When we express it at a time of leader-ship transition, we are making a series of promises: "Yes," we say, "so be it." "Yes, with God's help I will support and sustain this new leadership team with love and prayer." "And, yes, I accept my own responsibility, which I can-not surrender to others and which no one can take from me, of living the charism and mission of this community fully and actively." Thus is the community itself renewed in a grace-full transition. Notes ~ Two notable exceptions in the United States are "Transitioning from Leadership," a program offered by Lynn M. Levo CSJ through the Saint Luke Institute, Silver Spring, Maryland, and "Life after Elected Leadership: The Journey Continues," a workshop facilitated by Review for Religious Bette Moslander CSJ and Marcia Allen CSJ at Manna House of Prayer, Concordia, Kansas. 2 Psalm 103:1-5. The English translation is from the Liturgical Psalter; ©1994, International Commission on English in the Liturgy (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1995). 3 Herb Gardner, "A Thousand Clowns," in The Collected Plays (New York: Applause, 2000). 4 Geographical distance need not be an obstacle. It is possible to have a teleconference on the day of the ceremony, uniting the "Amen" of far-flung members to the prayer of those physically present. Autumn Poppies Brilliant Resilient At end of summer California poppies On spindly stems Shine from shelter Of overhanging rock. Each morning they unfold. What ore produced such gold? Ore from the distant sun? Did that more distant One - The ever-near, Forge it here In the heart of the planet? Through the earth's opaqueness Malting Beauty visible Poppies like bright eyes Give us sight For the Invisible Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ 6~.4 2006 THOMAS G. CASEY Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Tis is not an era for dumb disciples or witless .1. Christians. Hmnan beings are crying out for intel-ligence and wisdom. Certainly our world needs Christians who reach out in love to the poor, sharing material pos-sessions in lives of love. But it also needs Christians who lovingly share their intellectual gifts, their treasures of wisdom. Western culture suffers intellectual malnu-trition. It needs to supplement its diet with intelligent Christianity. With our intelligence we seek to know the truth about things. Wisdom takes intelligence a step further, for wis-dom is not book knowledge, but practical knowledge. Wisdom integrates knowledge into decision making and behavior. In order to attain wisdom, our lives need to focus on the good. Intelligence and Wisdom, Readiness and Ripeness In Hamlet and King Lear, William Shakespeare puts the words "readiness" and "ripeness" into the mouths of Thomas G. Casey SJ, from Ireland, is professor of philosophy at the Pontifical Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta, 4; 00187 Roma, Italy. Revie~ for Religious characters faced with death. Hamlet says "The readiness is all" (Act V, Sc. II). In Lea,; Edgar says, "Ripeness is all" (Act V, Sc. II). Readiness tends to be something active, something we produce through our own efforts. Ripeness is something organic, something that occurs according to its own rhythm, independently of our efforts. Unlike Shakespeare, I prefer to apply these phrases to life rather than death. I see readiness as our contribution to dis-cipleship through our intellects. Ripeness (maturation) is that wonderful moment when the fruit (peach or plum) is at its best, giving what it has received, even at the risk of falling. In the First Letter of Peter, a couple of verses deal explicitly with the spiritual ripeness and intellectual readiness of disciples. These verses are addressed to all Christians, including those facing opposition and ridicule. Peter warns that persecution is a real possibility: "Do not fear their intimidation, and do not be troubled, but sane-tify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always ready to give an answer to anyone who asks you the reason or your hope, yet with gentleness and reverence" (1 P 3:14-15). I see ripeness as related to spirituality and readiness as related to study. In order not to be intimidated by any sort of persecution, we need to "sanctify Christ," rever-ing him and acknowledging him as Lord of our lives. The spiritual is not simply first chronologically, but also first in importance. We must give God priority in our hearts. First comes communion with God and then communication with others. Indeed if we put God first, our lives will inevitably provoke questions from others. They will notice something different about us, and they will inquire about it. Peter seems to imply study. He says we must be ready to give an answer: In order to give an answer, we need to know the answer first. There is no way around the hard work of wrestling with texts and grappling with ideas. It is an answer about the hope in 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship our hearts, our trust that things will work out despite the difficulties, our conviction that there is more to life than our limited temporal existence--although we do not yet see what we hope for, we know it is possible and attain-able. The source of Christian hope is the goodness and love of God, Because Of God's faithful love, we know that the future is full of promise. Peter says we need to explain our faith "to anyone who asks." Different kinds of people will have different kinds of questions. Obviously those who are sympathetic to the hope in our hearts will be easier to answer. But it takes much more careful preparation to know what to say to skeptics and those downright hostile to our worldview. Peter does tell us how to answer: with gentleness and rever-ence. We are to present the truth in love. We do this, not to win arguments, but to win people. The strength of our convictions is to be communicated with tact and respect. Readiness and ripeness are vital, but ripeness has priority. Ripeness refers to who we are, to the gift of God that comes through communion with him, to grace. Communion with God gives unity to our intellectual powers. It is not the strength of our arguments that will win people over, but the quality of our lives, of our rela-tionship with Jesus. We need exemplars. We all benefit from the exam-ple of individuals who put their intelligence at the ser-vice of humanity, whose actions and deeds match their intellectual ideals, who sacrifice themselves for the ideas that claim their allegiance. Of course, we cannot all be geniuses. It is, however, usually not desirable to imitate a person of genius either. Without a spirituality, genius easily loses its way. Readiness without ripeness is not enough. Even a genius of goodwill faces particular challenges and hurdles. Persons of extraordinary intelligence are so Review for Religious used to excelling without effort that they easily forget that this does not apply in daily life. Despite outstand-ing grades they may fail in the task of living. Another problem that can plague persons of extraordinary intel-ligence is their very versatility. They may end up dissipat-ing their energies through taking on too many projects. They do not become outstanding intellectuals simply by having a huge number of ideas. They need to direct the energy of their lives. A hyperdeveloped mind allied to an underdeveloped spirit and heart leads to disequilibrium and worse. The greatest exemplar of a sterling mind integrated in a fully human life of spiritual depth is none other than Jesus. Christians associate Jesus with perfect holi-ness. Many regard him as the paragon of wisdom, but few automatically associ-ate him with intellec-tual brilliance. This failure to see Jesus as a genius is under-standable inasmuch as he did not become a world-renowned academic or found a university or write a seminal book. He apparently never committed his thoughts to paper, and on the only known occasion he did write (Jn 8:6), it was in sand. The best way to dispel any doubts about Jesus' extraor-dinary mind is to read the Gospels attentively. The proof of Jesus' intelligence is especially to be found in his capac-ity to offer humanity something of universal value and his ability to resolve the fundamental problems of human existence.~ But it is also manifest in many other ways. °.~t is not the strength of our arguments that will win people over, but the quality of our lives, of our relationship with Jesus. 65.4 2006 Casey * Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Jesus did not !et his exceptional intellectual gifts lie idle, The Greatest Exemplar Since he Was not only fully human but also fully divine, Jesus had an amazing intellect to start with. Second, what-ever form his education took it enhanced his intellectual giftedness and impressed his contemporaries. Luke's brief words about the twelve-,,ear-old Jesus in the temple at Jerusalem (Lk 2:42-50) show him listening to the doctors and questioning them. The child intrigues and fascinates these learned men. In fact, he surpasses them. And it is not simply his intellect, formidable though it is, that holds them in thrall. It is the paradox of such prophetic wisdom on the lips of a mere child. Undoubtedly Jesus' mind found nourishment in his communion with the Father. Perhaps Mary spoke to the child Jesus of her own faith and recited Scripture to him. In other words, he may have hid a human teacher as well as a divine teacher. Jesus did not let his exceptional intellectual gifts lie idle. He cultivated them. According to Luke, he con-tinued to grow in wisdom (Lk 2:52). In other words, he grew in his ability to judge things rightly and to react appropriately. Thus he did not use his intellectual powers to accumulate useless facts or trivia. He saw the world truthfully and acted in accord with what he saw. Jesus' intensive prayer and fasting in the desert and the energy and zeal of his public ministry showed that his intellect was at the service of a noble cause. In order for genius to be productive, it must be impelled forward by guiding passion, by a strong motivating force, by the transfor-mative power of desire. Jesus was pressed forward by a consuming love. It was the drive to announce the Good Review for Religious News, to preach the reign of God, to free people from the slavery of sin. We think with our whole being and not just with our intellects. Without physical health and a reasonable level of emotional and moral equanimity, our ability to con-centrate properly, understand fully, and judge rightly is impeded. Since Jesus was without sin, his mind did not lose serenity. He never did wrong and never gave way to destructive emotional behavior. Thus his whole being supported the vision of his intellect. Jesus' way of thinking, as illustrated in the Gospels, displays a brilliant mind at work. Aristotle asserts in his Poetics and even more forcefully in his Rhetoric that the use of metaphors is a mark of great intelligence, some-thing that cannot be taught: "The most important thing is to be good at metaphor. This is the one thing that can-not be learned from someone else, and is a sign of natural talent; for the successful use of metaphors is a matter of perceiving similarities.''2 There is a tendency to think of metaphors as some-thing purely linguistic--a verbal ornamentation that is pretty, but apart from that, pretty ineffective. But a met-aphor such as "You are the salt of the earth" (Mr 5:13) is much more than a figure of speech. It challenges our taken-for-granted relationship with things, it uproots and dislocates us from our customary, understanding of ourselves. More than that, a metaphor enlarges and deepens our knowledge. We understand ourselves and our relatedness in a new way: "I am the vine and you are the branches" (Jn 15:5). Jesus' metaphors--salt, light, bread, sheep, and so on--take us beyond ourselves, toward transcendence. Even though they are made of sensible and tangible realities, they simultaneously lift us up into the realm of the spirit: "I am the bread of life" (In 6:35). Making connections .among disparate 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship 360[ realities, Jesus' metaphors put a fragmented world back together. In John's chapter 15, Jesus speaks of his Father's "house" and of its "many rooms." With the familiarity of these words, Jesus lifts the veil on the afterlife, bring-ing domesticity into the unlimited horizons of the infi-nite. While not denying the difference between earthly life and paradise, Jesus shows that there must be echoes and resemblances. Metaphors galvanize the imagination, inviting us to think differently, and even to act in ways that once seemed impossible. They are the best way, and possibly the sole way, of talking about what is new. They give the imagination liberating and productive space. But even when he is not using metaphors, Jesus helps people in their thinking and action. In the Beatitudes, Jesus proclaims unexpected joys, the kind to be found in the simplicity, tears, gentleness, mercy, purity, peace, and suffering of saints. He helps his hearers think deep thoughts by starting from what they know, from what is familiar to them. In Matthew's chapter 7 he talks of how earthly fathers would not dream of giving a stone to their sons asking for bread, or offering a snake when they ask for fish. After emphasizing this point, Jesus points out that God, being perfect, will be infinitely more likely to answer our requests than human fathers are. A wise person knows how and when to pose ques-tions. Jesus' questions often invite his hearers to recog-nize and follow desires they may not have realized they had. The first question Jesus asks in the Gospel of John is: "What do you desire?" (Jn 1:38). And a related ques-tion appears four Limes in the synoptic Gospels: "What do you want me to do for you?" (Mt 20:32, Mk 10:36 and 10:51, Lk 18:41). Jesus also has a strong logical mind. In Luke 13:10- 16, a synagogue ruler becomes indignant when Jesus heals Review for Religious a woman on the Sabbath. Although she has been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years, the synagogue leader is adamant that this healing should have been done on a working day. Jesus counters by pointing out that nobody has any scruples about untying their ox or donkey on the Sabbath and bringing it out to give it water. The beast has not been thirsty for eighteen years, and the woman, "a daughter of Abraham," has felt a greater thirst over the course of many Sabbaths. Jesus sees even a bigger picture than this. The central theme of Jesus' preaching, the kingdom of God (today one could perhaps say "the dream of God"), is already mysteri-ously present in all the small-scale events and happenings of our daily lives. Jesus intuitively grasps a grand meaning in the tiny mustard seed becoming a large shrub. The goal of human intelligence is to know the real, and to know God, the supreme truth. Intelligence tends toward the truth. The intelligence of Jesus is perfectly pitched to this goal, for he constantly proclaims the kingdom of God. His mind is con-stantly directed toward the revelation or manifes-tation of God. Although God's kingdom is already ~ breaking into the present,Jesus sees that its full realiza-tion is in the future. When the seventy disciples return from preaching, intoxicated with the success of their ven-ture, Jesus says that what should really give them cause to rejoice is the reality that their names are written in heaven (Lk 10:20). Jesus adapts his words to the various people he is dealing with. It is not that he changes the content of his The goal of human intelligence is to know the real, and to know God, ;the supreme truth. 3,61 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship 362' message, but that he pays attention to his interlocutors, and seeks to speak in a way that makes sense to them. He uses many agrarian images and metaphors because he spends so much time talking to people who live and work on the land. But when he is questioned by the Roman procurator Pilate before his crucifixion, Jesus speaks of authority and truth, issues that concern Pilate. Jesus is wise enough to know the limits of intelli-gence. When confronted by the powerful but demonic intelligence of Satan toward the end of his forty-day fast in the desert, Jesus knows that only God's word is strong enough to defeat the Adversary's clever arguments. And so the Word of God quotes from God's word, the Holy Scriptures, and defeats Satan. Ripening To become wise and intelligent disciples, we need to imitate Jesus--not external imitation, but conforming our minds and hearts to Jesus. From this interior mirroring, our external words and deeds will naturally reflect Jesus. A few years ago, the WWJD bracelet--"What would Jesus do?"--became a fad. Such a bracelet certainly points people in a helpful direction. But of ourselves we are not always capable of knowing what Jesus would do. The responses are not written on our wrists. The answers are to be found by meditating and pondering on what Jesus did in fact do. We have looked at some examples of his wisdom and intelligence in action. We need to meditate on such examples, pray over them. The full ripeness of Jesus' wisdom needs to be tasted and appreciated with our spiritual senses. There is a clue to how to do this in the Greek verb menein, frequent in John's Gospel and having a range of meanings: to stay, remain, dwell, abide, last, endure, live. This word applies in a special way to John, because Review for Religious John has great staying power: he stays by Jesus' side, the only one of the twelve present at the cross. It is no acci-dent that John is right next to Jesus at the Last Supper, because John is humanly and spiritually especially close to Jesus. John remains, John abides. To understand this word "remain" better, it helps to turn to the first chapter of John's Gospel. When Andrew and an unnamed disciple start to follow Jesus, he turns and asks them, "What do you want?" These are the first recorded words of Jesus in John's Gospel, in the form of a question, a question that is interested and inviting, pro-found and personal. The two disciples answer Jesus with another question. They ask, "Where do you dwell?" This is not just a geographical question but a deeper, more spiritual one. The disciples have just left John the Baptist. They want something lasting, something that endures, a center that can hold. Different forms of the verb menein appear in chapter 15 of John. Jesus is unraveling implications of the vine and the branches. Jesus points out that trying to improve ourselves and be morally perfect is not what is essential. What is essential is to be in a living relationship with God, to dwell with him, to stay with him, to love him. We do not need to worry about bearing fruit: he will take care of our fruitfulness. We surrender ourselves to him as Lord of our lives, and we stay with him in community with others. We move beyond intelligence to wisdom, beyond rules to love. Communion with Jesus adds ripeness to our readiness and gives our lives unsuspected fruit. Notes ~ This view of intelligence is broadly in line with the stance of the distinguished educational thinker Howard Gardner, well known for his theory of multiple intelligences. According to Gardner, intelligence has to involve some form of productivity, and thus high IQ is itself not suf-ficient. Gardner defines intelligence thus: "Intelligence is a biopsycho- 363 6~.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship logical potential to process information that can be activated in a cultural setting to solve problems or create products that are of value in a culture." Howard Gardner, Intelligence Refrained: Multiple Intelligences for the 21st Century (New York: Basic Books, 1999), p. 34. 2 Aristotle, Poetics, translated with an introduction and notes by Malcolm Heath (London: Penguin Books, 1996), p. 37. Personal/Group Reflection Questions 1. "We think with our whole being and not just with our intellects." (p. 359) From my experience, can I give some examples of this kind of thinking? 2. a) What is the evidence I seek when I describe a person as wise? b) If I were to describe Jesus as a wise person, what examples of his wisdom would I cite from the Gospels? 364 Review for Religious ANDREW RYDER The Bible and the Lectionary During my time as a parish priest in Scotland, I became friendly with the local Protestant min-ister. Our two churches were built opposite each other. One day I showed him the Catholic lec-tionary we used at Mass. He was most impressed, and even thought of using it himself. Instead of going for six months giving his congrega-tion a weekly commentary on the Letter to the Romans, he could use the Catholic lectionary's systematic arrangement of short texts from both the Old and New Testaments, which he consid-ered well tailored to the needs and aptitude of Christians today. My colleague's reaction to our lectionary brought home to me yet again that it is one of the most valuable and enduring liturgical changes introduced by the Second Vatican Council. The Sunday and weekday readings from the lection- Andrew Ryder scJ recently wrote on the Holy Spirit's leading in four holy lives. His address remains St Joseph's Centre; Tilston Road, Malpas; Cheshire SY14 7DD; England. appreciating the word 65°4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary 366 ary have put the word of God within the earshot of many Catholics who might never open a Bible, let alone buy one. The three-year cycle of Sunday readings, the two-year cycle of daily readings from the epistles and Old Testament, and the one-year cycle of daily gospels provide a simple and comprehensive introduction to the Scriptures. The Vatican Council did not, of course, invent the lectionary. That misconception could prevent us from seeing the full significance of the lectionary in the life of the parish. The lectionary is not a latter-day insertion of certain biblical texts into our sacramental celebrations. Long before there was any Bible in the modern sense of the word, the lectionary was the ordinary means by which the faithful came in contact with God's word. The early Christians did not have Bibles. Their knowledge came from hearing the sacred text read out during their community gatherings. By such listening, the first gen-erations of the church were being faithful to their Jewish roots. Regular proclamation of the Scriptures had begun long before the Christian era. The origin of our present lectionary goes back to Old Testament times. The Synagogue Liturgy Old Testament books attributed to authors such as Moses (the first five books of the Bible--the Pentateuch), Amos, and Isaiah were, in fact, produced posthumously and often at a much later date. After a number of revi-sions, the final text was put together by editors (also called redactors), who were not producing books for dis-tribution among the people but were preparing material for community use.* While many of the individual books have a much older origin, the present canonical form of the Old Testament was the result of editing that lasted from the fifth to the second century B.C. The material as a whole Review for Religious was "the product of a temple-based community living in and around Jerusalem.''2 The definitive written form comprised of legal material (the Torah), the works of the prophets (including the books of Joshua and Samuel), and the "writings" (Psalms and the wisdom literature).3 The three groups of - books make up the Holy Scriptures of the Hebrew Bible. These Biblia (books) were revered as the word of God and were studied and read aloud in wor-ship. Independently .i of the temple, wor-ship through the word gradually took pride of place in the - ~ synagogue. Here people met on certain days for public services, without having a sacrificial liturgy.4 The precise origin of the synagogues is not clear. The general theory is that such meeting places came into being during the Babylonian Exile, as a substitute for the temple services. They were buildings constructed, not for sacrifice, but for prayer and the reading of the word of God. A fixed form of prayer was one of the inno-vations of the synagogue, and the buildings came to be called "houses of prayer." Synagogues also served as local community centers for the scattered Jewish people of the Diaspora and were pivotal in Jewish life. Though used also for political and social purposes, their primary pur-pose was spiritual and educational.5 Reading and study of the Scriptures took place on the Sabbath and feast days. There is evidence of two inde- By the time of Jesus, the weekly synagogue liturgy, featuring a communal reading :and study of the holy texts, had become the universal Jewish: practice. 367 65.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary 68] pendent cycles of readings, an annual and a triennial. The annual cycle is associated with the Jewish community in Babylon. A three-year cycle, with shorter readings, seems to have been the practice in Palestine. By the time of Jesus, the weekly synagogue liturgy, featuring a commu-nal reading and study of the holy texts, had become the universal Jewish practice. This service was quite distinct from temple worship and also from anything that existed in contemporary pagan religions. "It was a unique liturgi: cal feature in the ancient world; no such form of worship was known in paganism.''6 In the synagogue service the reading of the Torah was followed by a translation of the Hebrew text into the vernacular (a targum) and further instruction (the sermon). Philo of Alexandria, the lst-century commen-tator on Jewish religious practice, gives a description of communal Sabbath observance in his native city, focus-ing on the exposition of the Torah: "It was customary on every day when opportunity offered, and preeminently on the seventh day, as I have explained above, to pursue the study of wisdom with the ruler expounding and instruct-ing the people what they should say and do, while they received edification and betterment in moral principles and conduct.''7 Philo goes on to say that such instruction could last the whole day. As well as the temple and the synagogue liturgies, family celebrations such as the Passover were also cru-cial for the Jewish religion. Recitation of the Shema (Dt 6:4) and the singing of psalms became an integral part of these festive gatherings, as we see in the Last Supper meal of Jesus with his apostles. Yet, though family mem-bers memorized parts at least of the psalms for such celebrations, the regular contact of the practicing Jew with the word of God was through attendance at Sabbath worship in the synagogue. Review for Religious Jesus chose to begin his public ministry in the syna-gogue of Nazareth (Lk 4:16-30). By his time the scrolls containing readings from the Law and the Prophets were a treasured part of liturgical equipment. Jesus was brought up listening to the word of God when he went for wor-ship with his family,s Hearing the cycle of readings pro-claimed on the Sabbath was how he became acquainted with "the Scriptures" (Lk 24:27). The New Testament At the very beginning, like the rest of the Jews, the followers of Jesus listened to the word of God in the synagogue, as well as joining in the recitation of the Psalms during temple worship (Ac 2:46). But, towards the end of the 1st century, having been expelled from the Jewish synagogues, the Christian communities held their own celebrations in halls or large family residences (1 Co 11:17-22). Remains of these early "house churches" still exist in Rome. A little before 50 A.D., Paul sent the converts he had been instructing in Thessalonika a short letter with some further explanations of his teaching. The newly founded church faithfully preserved it for public use. Paul con-tinued to write similar epistles to encourage and educate other groups of converts. These letters circulated among the fledgling communities and were read out when they assembled.9 About fifteen years later, Mark had the idea of put-ting the stories about Jesus into a continuous narrative, giving Christians their first Gospel. So, as well as "the Scriptures," there could now be readings from Paul and Mark at Christian gatherings. Twenty years on, Matthew's Gospel appeared, probably with liturgical use directly in mind,'° linking the life and teaching of Jesus more closely to his Old Testament roots. At about the same time, 369 6.~.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary Luke set himself the task of writing a full account of the Christian message and added a second volume, the Acts of the Apostles, to bring the Christian story up to date. Though the work of the final redactors is not so clearly marked, editing can also be detected in the com-pilation of the Gospels and the other readings that even-tually became known as the New Testament. The fourth Gospel gives us the best example of revision (the two end-ings 20:30 and 21:25). John also shows how the Gospel narrative could be linked to the liturgy: "The emphasis on feasts as the occasion and indeed subject matter of Jesus' discourses is underlined by the evangelist in chap-ters 5-10.''1~ The Catholic Lectionary As Christians of the 21st century, we do not study the word of God in a vacuum, but as members of a com-munity; and, while as Catholics we do not claim any particular method of biblical interpretation as our own, we do see the Scriptures firmly placed within the living tradition of the church. In particular, our reading of the Bible is closely linked to the celebration of the liturgy. The Pontifical Biblical Commission makes the point clearly: "From the earliest days of the church, the read-ing of Scripture has been an integral part of the Christian liturgy, an inheritance to some extent from the liturgy of the Synagogue . In principle, the liturgy, and espe-cially the sacramental liturgy, the high point of which is the Eucharistic celebration, brings about the most perfect actualization of the biblical texts, for the liturgy places the proclamation in the midst of the community of believers, gathered around Christ so as to draw near to God.''~2 Though it should lead to personal conversion, the word of God is not in the first place a private message. A true understanding of the biblical texts (working from Review for Religious and always respecting their literal meaning) sees them as God speaking to his people today in the concrete circumstances of their community life, both local and global. "The word of God endures forever." At least in theory the Scriptures have always sustained the church. Today the lectionary offers pastors a marvel-ous tool for the proc-lamation of the word of God to the people of God. Whether at the Eucharist or other liturgical functions, homilies should explain and give contemporary relevance to the mes-sage that has been pro-claimed by the readers. This requires study and serious preparation. With all the developments of recent years in the under-standing of the Bible, it is vital that Christian leaders avail of the opportunities for updating that come their way. ,3 Here I make a plea for greater attention to the Old Testament. The greatest of Christian biblical scholars, St. Jerome, once said that ignorance of the Scriptures is not to know Christ. We can add that ignorance of the Old Testament is not to know the Father of Jesus Christ. Everything that Jesus says about the Father in the Gospels can be interpreted as the fruit of his medita-tion on "the Scriptures." Even his parable of the Prodigal Son, with its beautiful perception of the mercy and love of God, can be traced back to such prophetical utterances as Hosea 11:1-9.14 '. A true understanding of the biblical texts sees them as God speaking to his people today in the concrete circumstances of their community life, both local and global. I371 65.4 2006 Ryder * The Bible and the Lectionary 372 There is a profound unity between the Old and the New Testaments. Yet we often come across the percep-tion that the former is not only old, but also out of date, irrelevant to the church of the third millennium. The Old Testament is the work of ancient masters, teachers who have left us a spiritual legacy of unsurpassed wisdom. Like old wine, this legacy continues to mature and with age becomes ever more potent. The Old Testament covers a thousand years' history of the people of God, while the New Testament spans a period of little more than half a century. Furthermore, the first fifty years of Christianity were a golden age, a time of marvelous growth and expansion throughout the world. The Old Testament, on the other hand, records the fail-ures as well as the successes, the lows as well as the highs, of the people of God. From that point of view, those who are suffering now because of their faith can gain consola-tion from "the loving fidelity" (hesed) of Yahweh, recorded so dramatically in the pages of the Old Testament. Attentiveness to the Word Vatican II describes the liturgy as both the source and the summit of Christian spirituality. The liturgy is the prayer of the church, the Christian community at its most authentic, giving power to every other activity of the peo-ple of God. But we need strategies to help the participants profit by the riches that are available. Over the years I have encouraged people to invest in small personal copies of the lectionary. Pondering the texts proposed by the lec-tionary for the various liturgical seasons is an excellent way of "thinking with the Church." Reflecting on the readings before the celebration can give the actual proclamation a greater impact and deeper personal significance. The following words from the Congregation for Divine Worship's "Suggestions and Proposals" for the Review for Religious Year of the Eucharist (2005) provide a fitting sum-mary of what has been said: "After reading from Sacred Scripture, the expression 'The word of the Lord!' recalls the importance of what proceeds from the mouth of God, and makes us hear it not as something 'distant' from us, however inspired it may be, but as the living word by which God addresses us. We are in the context of a true 'dialogue' of God with his people, a dialogue in which the marvels of salvation are proclaimed to us, and the demands of the covenant continually reproposed. "The Liturgy of the Word is a constitutive part of the Eucharist. We gather together in the liturgical assembly to listen to what the Lord has to say to us--to each and every one of us. He speaks to us here and now, to those who lis-. ten to him with faith, believing that he alone has the words of eternal life, that his word is a lamp for our feet. "Attentiveness to the word spoken is at the beginning of the spiritual life. To believe in Christ is to listen to his word and put it into practice. It is docility to the voice of the Holy Spirit, the interior Master who guides us to the whole truth--not only to the truth to be known, but also to the truth to be lived out." Notes ~ There is plenty of evidence of later editing in the prophetical works of the Old Testament. The Book of Isaiah is a composition of at least three different authors, and only the first thirty-nine chapters are now attributed to Isaiah of Jerusalem. 2 E.E. Meyers and J.W. Rogerson, The Cambridge Companion to the Bible (Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 228. 3 The Psalter may well have been the first book of the Hebrew Bible. Psalms go back as far as the worship of the first temple (built, accord-ing to tradition, by King Solomon). It can be seen, from the headings accompanying many of the psalms, that they were attributed to Solomon's father, King David. Various psahns were used for the different feasts, especially the autumn festival of the covenant renewal. In all likelihood 373 6Y.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary there were psalms for different occasions, and what we have in the Psalter is a limited number of the most important ones. 4 Hans Kiing, Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1992), p. 108. 5 Roland de Vaux, Ancient Israel (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1961), p. 343. L.L. Grabbe claims a later starting point for syna-gogue worship in A History of the Jews and Judaism (New York: T & T Clark International, 2004), p. 237. 6 L.I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), p. 139. 7 Quoted in Levine, Ancient Synagogue, p. 145. 8 See J.P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus (New York: Doubleday, 1991). ~ Col 4:16. Even if Colossians is not an authentic Pauline letter, the exhortation to share the message with a neighboring church reflects an early practice. ~0 See J.P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew (New York: Paulist Press, 1979). ~1 Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John ed. F.J. Moloney (New York: Doubleday, 2003), p. 304. Of course, these are Jewish, not Christian feasts. Aileen Guilding contended that the dis-courses of Jesus were closely related to the readings in the synagogues on those feasts. The Fourth Gospel and Jewish Worship (Oxford: Clarendon, 1960). The present Catholic lectionary makes ample use of John in the baptismal catecheses of the Lenten Gospels. ~2 The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, 1993, C1. 13 Though proclaiming the word of God is a primary duty of the liturgical celebrant, recent data show that the Catholic Church has cause for concern. Two studies commissioned by Andrew Greeley and quoted in his Priests: A Calling in Crisis, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004, p. 116) indicate that Catholics do not rate their clergy highly in preaching and leadership in worship. Worse still, according to Greeley, priests themselves do not seem aware of the problem, and their failure to communicate the word of God is one of the reasons why people are leav-ing the church. Even if Greeley's research was conducted in the U.S.A., I am sure it is representative of the clergy in other parts of the world. ,4 The New Testament writers drew their "theology" (teaching on God) from the Old Testament. After his conversion Paul changed his view of Jesus, recognizing him as the Promised One. But his belief in "the God of the Fathers," built up through meditation on the biblical word of the Old Testament, remained the bedrock of his preaching on divine providence. His moral instruction, too, presumes the ethical teachings of the Hebrew Bible. Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation ~fihnaalt lIi scta ollf tphher caosedsa dtoe stchrei bAinpgo sfdoeusr' mCarejoerd dios cit-s trines: "the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." Experienced people can especially appreciate these great doctrines because they address our deepest human concerns, namely, existential loneliness, personal guilt, physical mortality, and our insatiably infi-nite longings. In other words, we are given four basic doctrines that bring our spirits hope in the face of the most oppressive psychological burdens, namely, guilt, loneliness, mortality, and longing. Our Physical Mortality Perhaps the heaviest of these burdens is the realiza-tion of our inevitable death, though for some of us it is the load of guilt we carry, consciously or unconsciously. Brendan Kneale FSC wrote for us earlier this year. His address is De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation 376 For many people it is a sense of aloneness. Overlying this we have a deep, and necessarily unrequited, appetite for the infinite, a conscious or unconscious longing. One of the worst parts of "the human predicament" is the inevitability of our eventually dying--what Zechariah calls living in "the darkness of the shadow of death." But Zechariah says that, in addition to a promise of liberation from this "shadow of death," Christ brings "knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of sins," making us "free to worship him without fear." No human being, regardless of how fortunate in matters of health or wealth or domestic comfort, is free of impending death and occasional realizations of that inevitability. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews mentions this terror in chapter 2. He speaks of the "fear of death which keeps us in slavery all our lives." And we recall the emotional passages in some of the Psalms about the burden of death, Psalm 90 for example, along with poignant words from Ecclesiastes. So in the Apostles' Creed we affirm our conviction that there will be for us a "resurrection of the body and life everlasting." The trauma of our earthly death will be really a kind of "birth trauma." This doctrine may well be, in our day and age, the hardest to accept of all Christian teachings. At the same time it is one of the most attrac-tive. Some historians attribute the rapid spread of early Christianity to the news of Christ's bodily resurrection and to people's strong desire to participate in it. Our Guilt We also affirm at the end of the Creed our belief in "the forgiveness of s!ns," a doctrine of enormous consola-tion. On the face of it, our guilt is irremovable because offenses against God are against the Infinite and we are only finite. Recall Psalm 65 with its doublet: "Too heavy R~view for Religious for us our offenses; but you wipe them away." The heavi-ness of guilt can be a force for good as well as evil, but it is still a burden. Guilt is one of the most powerful forces in human behavior. It can accompany both a suspicion of our own culpability and a state of actual culpability. It entails, as the dictionary says, a felt need to repay or requite the persons offended. It is related to feelings of remorse and shame, an awareness and regret over our responsibility for evil. Psalm 65 notes, "We are overcome by our sins." Guilt can cast a shadow over a whole life. Nevertheless, we know it can be relieved, at least in part, by forgive-ness. We need to accept for-giveness as well as bestow it. If we try, instead, to wipe our own offense from our memo- The heaviness of guilt can be a force for good as well as evil, but it is still a burden. ries, the psychological damage may be difficult to assess. Pope St. Clement wrote that it is better to admit one's sins than to harden one's heart. Guilt can drive us to inflict grave harm on ourselves and on others. It can also drive us to do good things. Acquittal or forgiveness removes punishment, but it does not remove the historical fact of guilt. That fact keeps us grateful for forgiveness. Guilt seems different from shame in that it is internal while shame is more external, or per-haps one relates to offenses against God and his law while the other relates to offenses against society and its conven-tions. Shame and guilt sometimes overlap, and in a moral society would do so more frequently. A theological problem about forgiveness may occur to us in connection with Christ's telling the Good Thief on the cross, "This day you will be with me in paradise." It is 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation easy to see how Christ as a Divine Person could forgive the sins that Dismas committed against God, but it is not easy to see how Christ could forgive sins committed by a thief against his victims--and for Christ to do so without the victims' prior consent. One would think that such forgive-ness belongs also to the victims. Is Christ the spokesman of forgiveness for all victims of the sins of robbery even though he himself is not (or does not seem to be) one of the direct victims? In a parallel question, can Christ forgive the sins we commit against ourselves even if we do not? The answer has to be yes. But on what grounds must we say so? There are probably two or three ways here to try to answer the question. First, incarnational. Christ is not a mere human person; his personhood transcends all human per-sons, and he can speak for us all (just as in his two natures he can speak for human beings as well as for God). He is "the Son of Man" as well as one of the three Persons, so that he is not only our spokesman before God but also the spokesman to all people and for all people. Second, evangelical. Christ tied his gospel message intimately to the forgiveness that we must exercise toward one another. Insofar as his message is successful and insofar as we are with him, we forgive each other and leave vengeance (or the popular term "closure") to God. The Our Father, both in context and content, empha-sizes that point. Also, when in Mark 12:34 Christ praises the scribe, it is because he sees the intimate connection between love of God and love of neighbor. Third, eschatological. It seems that one of the main purposes of the Last Judgment is to demonstrate the justice of God. It is no doubt mysterious, but every thief, including the Good Thief, will have found that justice has been done for his victims, and the victims will find it so to. The word "trespass" in the Our Father is a good choice, since our sins are like trespassing on the rights of God. Review for Religious God is offended but not harmed by our sins. Of course, the reason why he is offended by our sins is that these sins do harm to us and often to our neighbors, all of whom God loves. Loving us, he does not want to see us or anyone else harmed. The adage "Love me, love my dog" can be extended to God's desire that all people love one another. Our Insatiable Longing Is there not at least a third affliction shared by all man-kind, namely, an appetite for more, feeling we can never have enough in this life? We want not only an immortal and guilt-free life, but we want it to be unencumbered in all respects, wholly and completely fulfilled. Thoreau's famous Walden aphorism has it that "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and Virgil wrote: Sunt lacrimae - rerum, et mentem mor-talia tangunt--there are the tears of things, and the realities of death bear on one's spirit. Paul gives a Christian slant to Virgil in Romans 8:21: "It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was unable to attain its purpose [that is, was subject to futility]; it was made so by God. But creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, and to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth--and not only creation but all of us." We frequently sense that we are hemmed in by our finite circumstances since we aspire to much more than We often shield ourselves from deeper aspirations and real fears by pursuing and possessing material things. 379 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation we have. In fact, we possess a capacity for the Infinite (whether we are aware of the Infinite or not). Our life-long dissatisfaction with having an ever greater number of good things in this life should make us aware of this capacity. We, though, often shield ourselves from deeper aspirations and real fears by pursuing and possessing material things. And nonbelievers may try to fulfill such deep aspirations by a life of the mind and an appreciation of the arts--which, after all, are finite too. It was popular a generation ago to refer to the con-ditions of our earthly life as "the human predicament" and to our life as one of "exile." A real pessimism envel-ops some people. The Rumanian-French aphorist E.M. Cioran drew this depressing conclusion: "Some people still wonder if life has a meaning. In fact it all comes down to knowing whether it is bearable." But the Creed promises that our reward is everlasting. All longings will be met, including the desire for meaning. Our Loneliness "The holy Catholic Church" and "the Communion of Saints." We are convinced that we are not alone. It is true that our uniqueness as individuals separates us from all other people. But, as St. Paul implies, the parts of one's body, the leg or the ear, are not individually lonely. When we as individu-als are fully incorporated in the Body of Christ, we will have found a cure for all loneliness, both existential and social. The Church Glorious will be sociable. At the beginning of the Creed, we are assured that God is not lonely: there are three Persons in God. That revela-tion is a source of great consolation, a consolation apparendy denied to Jews and Muslims (whose God is understood as very lonely). In the Christian vision, as Alfons Deeken SJ put it years ago, "God exists as a fellowship and friendship of three Divine Persons. In the Trinity each Person has his existence Review for Religious only in relation to the others, and it is only in existing for the others, in the process of infinite giving and receiving of love, that each One is fully himself. Self-being does not decrease through self-giving. Thus the Trinity, as the source and model of all personhood and community, shows us that the high-est perfection of a person is not self-assertion, isolation, and independence, but rather openness and loving commitment to others" (Growing Old, and How to Cope with It, Paulist Press, 1972). Prayer Suggestion There is a prayer tradition that we choose a prayer formula such as our Creed, and we find ourselves in God's presence as we dwell on individual words or phrases of the prayer formula. Where we find relish and consolation, we remain until we feel that we should move on to another word or phrase. Then, when we have come to the end of our prayer time, we simply pray through the whole Creed in the usual way. In the light of the reflection by Brendan Kneale FSC, we might use the last part of the Creed for our daily prayer in this fashion over some days. We might also use the whole text for our prayer in this way. 65.4 2006 ARMAND NIGRO God's Invitation 382 l~is something awesome. It verges on the incred-le, even the ridiculous. Mmighty God, Creator and Lord of the Universe, wants to be involved and commu-nicate with us. God invites us to spend time with Him, to realize He is truly our Abba, as He is for Jesus, and to taste and relish that relationship This is an invitation to faith, to wait on the Lord, believing that God will reveal Himself to us and share with us His gracious purposes. It is God's invitation to prayer. God Acts In Us If we are open to it, God directly acts in us, speaks to us in every created experience, especially in the sacred Word in Scripture. Every sensible reality, from raindrop to wild weed to human smile, is a partial revelation of God, a finite shape of God's creative love. Every word in Holy Scripture is a humanly conditioned word of God, ever alive, full of meaning and power for us. Armand Nigro SJ is retreat director and pastoral minister at Holy Spirit Center; 10980 Hillside Drive; Anchorage, Maska 99507. Review f~r Religious Take a serious look at this revelation in passages like Psalm 81, Isaiah 55, Hosea 2 and 11,Jeremiah 1, Matthew 11:25, and John 14 and 15. Listening To God This astounding revelation is not merely for our minds; it is a call for us to experience and live in it. But this will never take place unless we take time to listen to God, to savor God's word and let it soak into us. Unless we do this, we'll never really know God. The danger is not just that we not take time to listen to him, but that we may even ignore what we hear. "Don't harden your hearts," God pleads in Psalm 95. But why should God care at all? Let's face it, if I were God, the last thing I'd want to do is be bothered by peo-ple like me. "To hell with them if they won't listen! No skin off my nose if they behave themselves or not. They are just not worth troubling over, especially for a God who has infinitely better and more important things to think about." God's Answer God's answer to this is: "But you are not God. I am. And My thinking is not your thinking and my ways are not your ways (Isaiah 5 5). You are My son, My daughter. I want to be your Abba (Father and Mother to you). This is what I want. This is important to me. Won't you believe me? Won't you let me?" Incredible--absolutely incredible! 65.4 2006 SE!~q D. SAMMON Sexuality and Celibate Chastity: Friends Not Foes living chastely Priest and author Ronald Rolheiser tells of a curious young man finding himself seated next to a woman religious on a plane trip. He asks her a number of questions, mostly about celi-bate chastity. He remarks, "What intrigues me about you, Sister, is your obvious zest for life. Now imagine how much more satisfying that life would be if you also had sex." And her response? "What impresses me about you," she says, "is your sincerity and the fact that you are searching for love. But love and sex are not the same thing. Now imagine how much richer your life might be if you were open to that possibility." How easily people can amiably use mutually intelligi-ble words and not understand each other at all! The word sexuality encompasses much more than genital sex. It includes our way of being in the world as a man or woman, the attitudes and characteristics that we call masculine and Sefin D. Sammon FMS writes again from Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.E 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious feminine. The word and the reality remind us that we are social beings, that we need and desire friendship and affection. These are God-given ways to be holy. Sexual and spiritual energy should be friends and not foes. Both aim at union with God and others. Human sexuality has more to do with self-transcendence than with self-fulfillment. The human life cycle neatly outlines the discussion of sexuality and celibate chastity. Forming an identity and developing closer relationships are different for you and me at twenty than at forty-five. Twenty years later these opportunities and challenges are different again. Over a lifetime we change in our self-understanding, our knowledge of how the world works, our understanding of our faith in Jesus Christ and our way of living that faith. Why would we not also change in our understanding and appreciation of our sexuality and our celibate chastity? Talking about intimacy, sexuality, and the vow of chas-tity is difficult. People lack effective words or a sense of comfort, and mutual understanding fails to occur. When asked why we chose a life of celibate chastity, we might answer, "For the sake of the kingdom; in order to love everyone and not just one person; to be more available." These answers are "not bad,".but they leave most of us and our listeners unsatisfied. When I use the phrase celiba{e chastity here, I will mean vowed chastity as it is lived within religious insti-tutes today. Celibate chastity is at the very heart of the way of life we call religious, it is not just an ascetical practice, though it may feel that way at times. And, while it is intimately related to our mission, it did not come into existence to make religious congregations' apostolic work more efficient. Celibate chastity is a defining char-acteristic of our way of life and needs to be seen as such. God has reached out to us in Jesus. Jesus has called us to 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Foreclosing ouf identity= sets thestage fqr later problems with.intimacy follow him. The relationship we have with him must be central to our lives. Have you ever asked yourself: "Where am I going in life?" "How am I using or wasting my talents?" "Does my presence in this religious community make any dif-ference at all--would I be missed if I were not here?" Such questions are related to both identity and intimacy, particularly challenging issues for young religious. They need to form a first or provisional identity as they move from their late teens to their late twenties. They need also to face questions of intimacy in their lives. Identity formation gets underway when we ask, "Who am I and what do I cherish or hold dear?" In answer-ing we move though three phases. First we explore our life ¯ options; next we see that we must choose one from among a variety of attractive possibilities; finally we must decide, com-mitting ourselves to a particular identity. Understandably, this process is influenced by culture and custom. The manner in which men and women approach it varies. Nevertheless, exploring options and making difficult choices are part of the life history of almost all who have achieved an identity instead of having one thrust upon them. Some among us foreclose identity. Overwhelmed by the number of options or lacking the wherewithal to succeed in one or another, we quicHy step into an identity that is ready-made, like a shirt that comes ready-made through the mail. We keep it whether it fits well or not. Foreclosing our identity sets the stage for later prob-lems with intimacy. There is hope, though, for, if we have Rt.vie~v for Religious not formed an identity early, we are given other oppor-tunities over the years. Times of transition give us new chances. At midlife, for example, certain reassessments about life can be made. Identity and Intimacy Why spend all this time discussing identity? Because of its relation to intimacy. This word has been defined too narrowly in the past. I suggest this description: Intimacy occurs when we are sure enough about ourselves as per-sons, are so much at home with ourselves, that we can risk closeness with someone else.~ During our early adulthood we are young in our understanding and experience of intimacy. Some would suggest that, while deep loving relationships are possible for young people, they are more the exception than the rule. For most of us mature intimacy is just not possible until later in life. Uncertainty and confusion often sur-round young adult sexuality, and the rich spirituality that lies at the heart of mature celibate chastity is often not available until the middle years. When men and women religious move through their early adult years, intimacy questions arise, and genital-sexuality questions as well. Today the media and a good many people see genital restraint as constricted and par-tial living that leads to a lonely life ahead. How, then, do we prepare those in formation for the challenges they will face? How do we help them grow into a celibate and chaste way of loving others? How do we help them understand, from our own experience, the joys and satis-factions of celibate chaste living? In their late twenties and early thirties some sisters, priests, and brothers fall in love for the first time. This experience, sometimes more infatuation than genuine intimacy, can be an important step toward building lov- 6Y.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity ing adult relationships with other men and women. This outcome can occur, ho.wever, only if they can talk about the relationship. Unfortunately these relationships often remain hidden, shrouded in secrecy. We all need some privacy in our relationships, but, if secrecy overshadows any of them, trouble usually lies ahead. You and I benefit from time together with friends and so does our community. It is natural to look forward to being with people whose very presence is life-giving for us. Religious life itself has always included caring relation-ships that grow over time. Witness the great friendships down through the centuries, friendships that flourished even when rules warned against them. The tendency of most of us is to share our friends with others. Secrecy in a relationship is something quite differ-ent and becomes an obstacle to mature celibate chastity. Secrecy robs people of the opportunity of getting advice from someone outside of the relationship, someone who can keep them honest about what is transpiring. All of us risk deluding ourselves about relationships, particu-larly those with romantic overtones. The decisions we make about them may be flawed. And in these matters people do make decisions. If two religious end up in bed together, they should not claim that angels carried them there. Rather, they need to admit that they made a series of decisions that led to this outcome. We need privacy for some relationships to grow, but we must also must set limits if we are to live with integrity. This is true not only in the lives of priests and religious, but in everyone's life, married or single. Living my life in keeping with the commitments that I made means that my love will not be expressed genitally, but in reality it may be no less intimate. In our sexuality as in so many other areas of our lives, we do well to remember that we are unfinished and incom- Review for Religiozts plete. In making prudent life choices about sexuality, we in turn make many other decisions. With midlife we become more aware that limits have been part of all our best choices. Friendship Any intimate relationship stretches one's identity. But is that not what needs to happen as we move through the stages of our life? We need to make ourselves known, risk our self-definition, and allow others to come close to us precisely so that we can - be known, influenced, and possibly changed as a result of the rela-tionship. Many situa-tions call for the risk of our self-understanding. Close friendships allow - ~ us to relax the stance which we usually assume when fac-ing the world and most other people. Friends reach a part of us that is inaccessible to others; they know us as others do not. Friends are not frightened by one another's weak-nesses, and so they feel free to share their fears, concerns, difficulties. As a consequence they learn to be more at home with themselves, their qualities, their preoccupa-tions. In community life people can risk self-definition, and most do. Some, however, stay on the fringes, moving in and out of the community's life but refusing to let other members have any claim on them. If a weekend activ-ity is planned, fringe members will encourage the others to make their plans, saying they will fit in if they can. Whereas for most of us absence from community activi-ties occurs from time to time, for fringe members it is a way of life. They have difficulty with intimacy; by not Any intimate relationship stretches one's i&ntity. 65.4 2006 Sam,non * Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 390 allowing the group to come close to them, they avoid the "difficulty" of being changed by their presence. They protect their self-definition, and they perpetuate their isolation, living alone in the midst of the group. Their relationships fail to flourish. What they may point to as intimacy is often a pseudo-intimacy. The consequences of refusing to risk self-definition are grave. The persons deny themselves one of life's greatest gifts, the experience of friendship. Situations involving cooperation and competition can help us to stretch our self-understanding. Working together with others on a task, we become aware of per-sonal gifts and abilities not recognized previously. We may discover that we have skills that help a group com-plete an assigned task. Athletes have similar experiences. In difficult games they may discover unknown talents and learn endurance as they make an all-out effort to win. The experience of intimacy can be a help to prayer. A corollary is that people may apply their fear of human intimacy to God as well, keeping God at arm's length so that even God does not disturb supposedly well-thought-out plans. Such plans are far from the indifference sought in making a good discernment. Only when I am indiffer-ent am I free enough to appreciate what is in God's heart for me. If I pray regularly and enjoy intimacy with God, God's desire has a good chance of becoming my own, for my own benefit. Authentic discernment demands that I risk intimacy with God, talking over my mixed feelings, my fears, in a closeness that could change my self-defini-tion and my life. Do not, however, confuse self-disclosure with inti-macy itself. True intimacy includes caution and selectiv-ity. It is altogether different from telling one's life story in great detail to a total stranger at a social gathering-- something most of us back off from in embarrassment, Review for Religious excusing ourselves for a moment, with the hope that upon our return the person will be just as animatedly engaged with someone else. Real relationships take time. Some parts of ourselves, shared easily at the right time in a relationship, could not have been spoken about earlier. Though friends are people with whom you and I share confidences, they are much more than that. Over time a history develops between two friends. They prove themselves mutually dependable. Eventually they realize that they valued each other long before they ever thought of anything like an evaluation. Friendship between Men and Women Using but a few words, the psychologist Carol Gilligan has put into perspective the differences between men and women. "It all goes back, of course, to Adam and Eve," she says, "a story that shows, among other things, that if you make a woman out of a man, you are bound to get into trouble." When it comes to relationships, men and women have differences in style and expectation. In a number of cultures men learn early in life how to be part of a team. As they grow up, teamwork continues to be important for them both in work and play. The bonds that men develop, then, depend more on solidarity than self-disclosure. It is the things they do together that bind them. When they do not have those things to do, many men stop com-ing together. Among women, relationships are usually more important than anything they might do together. Women tend to value their friendships with other women especially for the emotional support and understanding they receive; they spend time together exploring their personal experience and inner world of meaning. Men tend to be uncomfortable when they sense that a woman friend wants them to reveal more about them- I391 65.4 2006 Sammon * Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 392[ selves than they care to. Women tend to be disappointed that their male friends are not so forthcoming in emo-tional sharing as they would like them to be. Men and women, though, agree strongly on this: in cross-gender relationships, the issue of sex has to be resolved before the friendship can deepen. If a man and woman in a rela-tionship have a strong sexual attraction to one another and fail to talk about these feelings with someone else, trouble often lies ahead. Men and women, of course, differ also in other ways than we have mentioned, but friendships continue to flourish between them. With friends we do not have to be altogether consistent; we can think and feel differently on alternate days with little consequence. During periods of significant personal change, friends can and should be specially aware and considerate, not exaggerating per-sonal ideas of how things are "supposed to be." All people haveboth a masculine and a feminine side within their personalities. Every culture has its gender images, but rigid adherence to them can be quite prob-lematic, leading to distorted emotional development and difficulties with intimacy. Early in life most women are unaware of their masculine side, and the same can be said of most men and their feminine side. For a relationship of mature intimacy, the masculine and feminine aspects in us must have a certain level of integration. This is true regardless of sexual orientation. During their twenties and thirties, men and women struggle with intimacy in different ways. A man often sees a danger in closeness, fearing it will limit his inde-pendence. He shies away. A woman is often apprehensive about separation. At this time in their lives, while men are having difficulty with closeness in a relationship, women are finding it hard to be separate and be their individual selves. A failure to integrate masculine and feminine sides Review for Religious gives rise to several consequences. A woman finding her masculine side threatening shies away from demonstrat-ing her natural competence in one area of life or another. A man fearing implications of his more intuitive feminine qualities gives the mes- - . sage that he is unavail-able for relationship. He can appear sulky, with-drawn, overly sensitive. Midlife is a good time for doing this work of integration. Increasingly aware that we have lived at least half of our earthly life already, we become less concerned about gender image and we grow in our ability for genu-ine closeness and in our self-knowledge and acceptance. Some aspects of ourselves defy greater self-knowl-edge. These shadow traits, often obvious to others, are hidden from us. When a man projects the positive quali-fies of his own feminine side onto a woman, she becomes highly desirable to him--the object of his fantasies and sexual longings. This situation becomes, in time, suffo-cating for a woman. As she develops her own personality in the relationship, she finds this same man now blaming her somehow for his unhappiness and negative moods. When a woman projects her unconscious masculine side onto a man, she overvalues him, seeing him as a hero and guide. Over time, however, she begins to see her earlier savior and guide as the source of all her feelings of belittlement and disappointment. Projection does little or nothing to foster mature intimacy. It fosters mutual fascination and infatuation, which can be important steps toward mature intimacy, For a relationship of mature intimacy, the masculine and feminine aspects in us must have a certain level of integration. 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity but relationships built on this foundation do not last. In such a relationship the persons are actually in love with themselves. 394 Sexual Orientation In any discussion about human sexuality and celibate chastity, we need to say a word about sexual orientation. There have always been, are now, and always will be homo-sexually oriented .men and women as members of religious congregations. Among this group are persons of exemplary celibate chastity; others have stretched the meaning of the vow of chastity beyond recognition. But the same can be said of their heterosexual brothers and sisters. I believe that some recent discussions about the area of sexual ori-entation have taken the wrong focus. Rather than empha-sizing people's heterosexuality or homosexuality, we would better direct our energies towards helping everyone called to religious life to live lives of celibate chastity. The area of sexual orientation is complex. There are many different approaches in discussing the matter. Some use the term "transitory homosexuality" to describe a sit-uation in which a person finds himself or herself sexually attracted to a member of the same sex but is not, in fact, homosexually oriented. If this is the case with a novice, what the formation personnel need is understanding and compassion. Others would contend that more than a few people, while defining themselves in the main as hetero-sexual or homosexual, find that their sexual feelings and fantasies are more accurately described as falling along a continuum. Formation personnel and other religious need to be at home with their own sexuality and orienta-tion and, of course, with their choice to live in a celibate chaste way. Of particular concern in recent years has been the abuse of male children at the hands of the clergy and Review for Religious male religious. There is no empirical evidence linking homosexuality with this behavior called pederasty. As tragic as sexual abuse is for all involved, wrong would not be righted nor children protected by policies based on the faulty notion that homosexuality and a predisposi-tion to abuse children are linked. Mention is sometimes made about the destructive effect that a gay subculture can have when it is present in a house of formation, a seminary, or a religious com-munity. Subcultures, be they sexual or otherwise, have no place in religious life. When they do emerge, however, it might be more profitable to seek the reason for their exis-tence rather than simply insist that they cease to exist. In consecrated life our primary identity must be our identity as religious persons. No other identities--family, intellectual, interpersonal, sexual--none of these nor any other can take precedence over our identity as religious persons. That identity more than anything else shapes our faith, our self-understanding, and our journey of self-transcendence. Spiritual Growth If sexuality lies at the center of the spiritual life, the spiritual life is likewise at the heart of genuine celibate chaste living. For our celibate chastity, Jesus Christ must rest at the center of our lives. For that to happen, we must accept Jesus' love for us in a special way. The rela-tionship that each of us has with him and its pattern of development are unique. Everyone's spirituality must be tailor-made to reflect these realities. As religious all of us have been presented with formulas and plans of action that carry with them some guarantee of success in the spiritual life, but unfortunately those formulas and plans of action tend to ignore the unique relationship that we each have with Jesus. They may even get in the way. 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 396 To ensure that our life with God is at the heart of our celibate chastity, we need be ready for spiritual awaken-ings, willing to explore the longings that are present in them. Spiritual awakenings may be like sexual awakening at the age of puberty. They may be startling or more gradual. Our desire for God grows. Finally we become vividly aware that God's love is given to us freely with no strings attached, without our having earned it. The idea of having to earn God's love is just out of the question. To be involved with Jesus Christ means embracing the paschal mystery. He asks us to imitate him, not admire him. When you and I dedicate our celibate lives to him, to closeness to him, we must realize that it includes suf-fering and death. Relationships do not just happen; they take time and effort. Throughout the ages spiritual writers have insisted that personal prayer is essential to a relationship with the Lord. For that bond to become strong, moments of prayer must eventually become regular and longer, ide-ally an hour each day. More than a few in religious life, however, will plead a lack of time. That claim rings true, because the activity.of some of us today borders on the pathological. It is the single greatest threat to our inte-rior life and leads only to greater self-preoccupation, an overemphasis on efficiency, and restlessness. Those who are overly busy are less likely to encounter Jesus in the marketplace of everyday life; they lack sufficient inte-riority. An obsession with efficiency leaves little room for spontaneity, for an openness to wonder. Restlessness, compulsively seeking one experience after another, inter-feres with developing a spirit of solitude, hospitality, and genuine prayer. By way of contrast, the fruits and gifts of the Holy Spirit are evident in the lives of those who pray regularly. Numbered among those fruits are charity, a spirit of joy, Review for Religious patience, forbearance, faith, and reverence for oneself and others. The gifts include wisdom, understanding, coun-sel, knowledge, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord. Are these fruits and gifts of the Spirit present in our lives? If not, we need to wonder about how seriously we take our relationship with Jesus Christ. We need to decide what we need to change in our lives in order to practice what we espouse publicly. Our Christian life, at its heart, is about a relationship with Jesus Christ. That relationship is the solution for my restiveness, the answer to my ques-tions, the source of my joy. There will always be people in our world who con-sider those who live our kind of life to be naive and foolish. And we are. Naive, because the choice does not follow social convention; foolish, because to embrace and live well a life of celibate chastity leads inevitably to a revolution of the heart. Bernard Lonergan SJ calls it "an otherworldly falling in love. It is total and permanent self-surrender without conditions, qualifications, reserva-tions." Living such a life bears great fruit. We discover the true meaning of passion, becoming more deeply spiri-tual and sexual at the same time. Over time we become more at home with ourselves and with God. For the per-son who embraces fully the challenge of a life of celibate chastity, the description "deeply spiritual and profoundly human" becomes eventually the only one that is apt. It tells the whole story. Let us pray that we have the cour-age to make it our own. References David Finkelhor and Associates. A Sourcebook on Child Sexual Abuse. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1986). Bernard Lonergan. Method in Theology. London: Herder and Herder, 1972. James Nelson. Intimate Connection: Male Sexvcafity and Mastwline Spiritualily. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988. 397 6Y.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Ronald Rolheiser. The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christhm Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. --. Forgotten among the Lilies. New York: Doubleday, 2005. Lillian Rubin. Intimate Strangers: Men and Women Together. New York: Harper and Row, 1983. --. Just Friends: The Role of Friendship in Our Lives. New York: Harper and Row, 1985. Sandra M. Schneiders. Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic Religious Life. Mahwah: Paulist, 2001. Sean Sammon. An Undivided Heart: Making Sense of Celibate Chastity. Staten Island: Alba House, 1993. Sean Sammon. "Celibate Chastity: An Affair of the Heart." Pastoral Review, April 2001. John Sanford. Invisible Partners. Ramsey: Paulist, 1980. 398 Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. After reading Sammon's article, are we able to give a more adequate answer to the question, "Why do we choose a life of celibate chastity?" 2. Have we found that our experiences of intimacy with others has been a help in the fervor of our prayer life? 3. Let's explore the implications of this sentence: If sexuality lies at the center of the spiritual life, the spiritual life is likewise at the heart of genuine celibate chaste living. Review for Rdigious ANNETTE M. PELLETIER "Bride of Christ": Timely Sign in Signless Times? ~fohodi lceo sutartn adti nthge i nC laitnheo tloic g Uetn aiv ceurspi toyf ocfo fAfemee irnic tah,e a young woman student, noticing that I was a religious sister, tapped me on the shoulder and asked earnestly, "Sister, are there any other sisters on campus? Sisters are seldom seen these days. W-here are they?" I said, "Oh, yes, there are sisters on campus, both as professors and as students. You might not see them, but they are here." Some time later, another young woman student, the leader of the women's vocation discernment group, invited me to accompany them on their fall retreat, to talk with them about the meaning of "bride of Christ," and to say something on "the chastity bit." Her question jolted me. How long had it been since I had thought of myself as a "bride of Christ"? The other question encour-aged me. Young Catholic women are asking, "Where are 399 Annette M. Pelleder IHM wrote two articles for us a dozen years ago. Her address is Immaculate Heart Convent; 6600 Little Falls Road; Arlington, Virginia 22213. 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Cl~rist" How curious that ~chastity,: maligned and misunderstood in contemporary ~ulture, is a virtue tha~t youth see and wonder abouL 4001 the sisters?" The tone seemed to say we are missed or at least missing. They are also wondering about that "chas-tity bit." Are Catholic religious women really "brides of Christ"? It seems to me that, at least on one campus in the United States, women university students are asking what it means for a Catholic woman to be consecrated to God as a religious sister. Could such interest or curiosity be a new sign in our times? Among religious women, post-Vatican II theologi-cal reflection on the identity and mission of the conse-crated life abounds. Vatican II's decrees Pe~fectae caritatis (1,5) and Lumen gentium (42) and, more recently, Pope John Paul's Vita con-secrata (3,4,5) situated the consecrated life at the heart of its mys-tery and mission, a gift from God to the church for the church. The International Congress on the Consecrated Life (Rome, 2004) por-trayed religious life in the postmodern era as a way of life imbued with a Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (Pauline Books and Media, 2005). Sandra Schneiders's trilogy, Religious Life in the New Millennium, examines the "qualitative dif-ference between questions religious ask today in compari-son with two decades ago. Selling All (vol. 2) retrieves and explores consecrated virginity as symbolic of the "unitive and transformative bond" between the Christian woman and Christ.4 In reference to the "chastity.bit," the body, as symbol that spea.ks its own "language," is the subject of theological reflection. Thus, the physical reality of the Review for Religious virginal body retains its place in our time as a timeless sign of the "kingdom come" and "coming" in every age and stage of history. Consecrated virginity has been and remains "exceptional gift of grace., a special symbol of heavenly benefits" (PC 12). How curious that chastity, maligned and misunderstood in contemporary culture, is a virtue that youth see and wonder about!6 Paradoxically, the youths' queries suggest that the way of life that is the "most perfect expression of the gospel on earth" (VC 18) has evolved into a symbol without a sign. Current theo-logical reflection digs deeply into the nature of symbol. Symbols implicitly convey meaning and affectively draw us into their world where relationships are effected. Certainly these youthful seekers' questions merit an answer. And what could be a more appropriate source for instruction and inspiration than the signs and symbols of the church's liturgical rites for this way of life? Relying on the ancient dictum lex orandi, lex credendi, lex agendi (as the church prays, the church believes and acts), we will examine how the signs, symbols, texts, and gestures in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" (here-after RPW) illuminate what it means to be a "bride of Christ.''1 The nuptial metaphor was applied to consecrated vir-ginity in the early church. Since apostolic times certain women freely dedicated their virginity to God, and the church "set her seal on this high vocation by. conse-crating those who followed it by a solemn prayer" (RPW ix). Gradually this public, solemn blessing was expanded and enriched with ritual gestures to more clearly manifest the meaning of a Christian woman's total commitment to Christ, the Bridegroom of the church. As the centuries passed, however, embellishments distorted, romanticized, or detracted from the original meaning of the rite. Vatican II's Sacrosanctum concilium occasioned the restoration of 401 65.4 2006 402 the splendor, dignity, and symbolism of the ancient "Rite of Consecration of Virgins" as well as the formulation of two distinct and separate rites, "Religious Profession of Men" and "Religious Profession of Women" (SC 9). Unlike the "Rite of Consecration of Virgins," the "Rite of Religious Profession" includes consecrated celi-bacy and poverty and obedience as well. We will restrict our focus to the meaning of nuptial metaphor (bride of Christ) in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women." Basic to this consideration is that the body itself is a sym-bol. The body merits attention as the place of sacramental encounter, "the place of symbolic convergence--through gestures, words, postures, . . . and silences" (Chauvet, 152)--for making us believers. The body means some-thing. What one does with one's body or what is done by others to the body has significance. The choice for consecrated chastity makes the body stand for a religious meaning. Body gender carries inherent meaning in human relationships, human personhood. Who were the "brides of Christ" in early Christianity? This article cannot do justice to the copious literature ancient Christian writers devoted to Christian women virgins. Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine used nuptial metaphors from Scripture in describing Christ and the church, the soul and God, and the Christian virgin and Christ. The Christian woman's choice to follow Christ by renouncing marriage, childbearing, and child rearing endowed her with a new status in the ecclesial community. As "bride of Christ" she could be no one else's bride. The permanent state of virginity has been seen as a life "more blessed than the martyrs," and "a fleck of divine gloW in a dark world." The virgin was honored by the commu-nity as uniquely holy and pure "the way God is holy and Review for Religious pure." Christian virgins--not unique in the practice of virginity in the ancient world--were unique in embodying a permanent state of exclusive dedication to Christ. Virginity of this nature was unknown in antiquity. It was seen in the Roman Empire with suspicion and con-sidered a threat to both the family and the state. Christian virgins testified to their chosen state in life "with such passion that they were ready to die rather than renounce it" (Schneiders, 183). In fact, the women's choice of vir-ginity was a radical act of personal autonomy rare during this period in history. The nuptial metaphor was a par-ticularly effective declaration of a unique and influential status. These women were exempt from the social norm of being married to a husband "because they were already married--to Christ" (Schneiders, 183). The bridal meta-phor expressed the ultimate form of discipleship practiced by women. What was their role in the Christian community? Christian women virgins, then, had a highly sym-bolic presence and endowed an ecclesial community with a certain prestige. The sacredness of the human body bridged this world and the next. As the Roman Empire began to crumble, Christian virgins exemplified "conti-nuity in its most pure state" (Brown, 271), a certainty of the reality of the heavenly kingdom come. This distinct embodiment of a relationship with Christ witnessed to the certainty of eternal salvation in an uncertain world. The virgin's espousal to Christ was an embodied sacrality. The church's official recognition of this state of life abrogated the paterfamilias right and duty to arrange (or oblige) a daughter's marriage. This new and unique state of life testified eloquently to a spiritual intimacy with Jesus the Lord. Local churches welcomed them and honored a way of life eloquently embodying the holiness of God. 403 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Gbri~t" 404 Liturgical rites acknowledged their consecration to God as bride of Christ. Christian women who responded to this form of dis-cipleship were solemnly blessed by the bishop. Depictions of the "veiling of virgins" inscribed in the Roman cata-combs indicate that a blessing ritual designated the new status of a Christian woman now publicly recognized as a bride of Christ. Borrowing from Roman marriage customs, the bishop solemnly veiled the virgin in the assembly of Christians in the local church. Henceforth the bishop would be her special protector. The words of the episcopal blessing and the act of veiling conveyed the meaning of the ineffable mystery of bodily consecration to God. This was a singularly significant event for Christian communities immersed in the uncertainties of the declin-ing empire. To Christians the virgin's body heralded the future status of all the disciples of Christ who awaited a new heaven and earth where men and women "neither marry nor are given in marriage" (Lk 20:35). Christian virgins embodied the hope that "the things of the resur-rection stand at the door." Gradually the varying rites were compiled and pre-served in the Roman Pontifical. As the historical con-texts changed, consecrated virgins left their families and formed small communities of women. These evolved into monasteries and more recently into mobile apostolic reli-gious congregations. Consequently the theological rich-ness of the rite was obscured by romantic embellishments depending on the cultural context and ethos of the reli-gious congregation. So the revision of the Roman Ritual mandated by Vatican II occasioned the restoration of the ancient "Rite of the Consecration of Virgins" and the cre-ation of two others, the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" and another for men (SC 80). These two new rites were to manifest a "more mature theology of the Review for l~eligious religious life and its connection to the mystery of Christ and the church." "Bride of Christ": A Timely Sign in Signless Times? How, then, does the "Rite of Religious Profession" incorporate nuptial imagery and remain linked to the ancient origins of the consecrated life? How does the new rite express the ineffable mystery of a bridal bond to God that surpasses maternity, paternity, friendship, and even discipleship? According to Schneiders (192), nuptial spirituality remedies "the ontological inequality" between the divine Jesus and the human virgin. "One of the most striking, not startling features of nuptial spirituality is the sense of equality with Jesus that the mystics express" (103). John of the Cross's Living Flame of Love and Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle employ nuptial images to express the union of the soul with God. Schneiders notes that Christian spirituality embraces nuptial imagery for men and for married couples, for example, the mysticism of the celibate John of the Cross, married mystics like Catherine of Genoa, and also St. Paul in texts referring to the church of Corinth (2 Co 11:2) (199). Since the religious life stands as "an abiding enact-ment" of the way of life of "the supreme consecrated one, Jesus Christ" (VC 22), the liturgy must convey this. This way of life itself witnesses to the church far beyond any apostolic service? The liturgy strives to enunciate the full meaning of this way of life. This meaning remains a challenge for religious today: the rediscovery of their life's symbolic and transcendent meaning.3 The rite deals with discipleship, communion of life, service, mission, witness, union with God. The parts--the Call, Examination, Solemn Prayer for Candidates, Words 6~.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Christ" 4061 of Profession, Solemn Blessing, Bestowal of Insignia-- announce and enact this "new and special consecration" (VC 31, RPW 22-77). True to the origins of consecrated virginity in the church, the Rite of Profession "begs God's grace for them by its public prayer and puts them in God's hands, blesses them and unites their offering with the Eucharistic Sacrifice" (RRP 1). But what signs signify the "special grace of intimacy of spousal communion which distinguishes this state in life from all others" (VC 16)? How does the rite "recall that wonderful marriage made by God which will be made fully manifest in the age to come, and in which the church has Christ alone for her spouse" (PC 12)? The inclusion of the Rite of Religious Profession in the Mass links it with essential life in the church. A short analysis of the rite can shed light on the bridal image of a consecrated woman disciple. The words of the Opening Prayer insert religious pro-fession into the heart of the mystery of the church. In the "Rite of Temporary Profession," the presider acknowl-edges that the Lord has "inspired our sisters with the resolve to follow Christ more closely," and he asks that "they may be able to offer you the perfect gift of their loving service" (RPW 286) In the "Rite of Perpetual Profession," the opening prayer praises God because "the grace of baptism has borne fruit in the lives of your ser-vants so that now they strive to follow your Son more closely" (RPW 288). Since these and other texts consis-tently refer to the candidates as "servants," both disci-pleship and mission are integral to the consecrated life. Similarly, ritual elements such as the Call, the Request, the Examination of Resolve, the Litany of the Saints, and the Act of Profession are reminders that religious profes-sion announces the Christian woman's resolve to embrace a way of life that makes present the risen Christ in history Review for Religious (VC 19). The candidates solemnly express their desire to publicly proclaim this radical form of discipleship (RPW 64). Their own words effect the transformation of their lives (Schneiders, 100). Words profess the invisible and ineffable mystery of this "new and special consecration" (VC 31). At this time the professed becomes a public sign and prophetic voice of the church as bride (VC 15,19). The liturgy endows the human word with the power to take baptismal consecration to the nth degree. Henceforth the professed stands for and in the eschaton: the great wedding banquet has already begun. The heavenly Bridegroom is here and waits to be met (Mr 25:1-13). Where, then, does the rite incorporate the nuptial metaphor? Bridal imagery that existed in the ancient "Rite of the Consecration of Virgins" was not dis-carded when the Roman Missal was revised. It was integrated into the rite along with the other two evangelical counsels, obedience and poverty. Canonically the religious life is a stable form of life which "manifests in the church the wonderful marriage brought about --- by God, a sign of the future age"; the consecrated person's "whole existence becomes a continuous worship of God in charity" (canon 607, ~1). And so the rite enacts the choice of Catholic women to live their baptismal consecration radically. The evangelical counsels manifest embodied chastity chosen for the sake of the kingdom, individual ownership renounced by poverty, and personal autonomy relinquished through obedience (PC 5,6). Religious profession announces the Christian woman's resolve to embrace away of life that makes present the risen Christ in history. 407 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Christ" 4O8 How and where is nuptial symbolism incorporated into the rite? The Liturgy of the Word offers various various biblical texts that express nuptial imagery. Nuptial imagery captured the intimacy between Yahweh and the Israelite community, particularly in prophetic literature. Hosea's voice echoes across the centuries bridging cov-enants: "I will betroth myself to you forever" (Ho 2:14). Similarly, Wisdom literature speaks of "Love as strong as death" (Sg 8:6-7) and the call of the beloved, "Rise my love and come" (Sg 2:8-14). Thus the word proclaimed awakens the memory of a vital relationship in the past that is to be enacted in the here and now of today. Nuptial themes are also evident in other elements of the rite. In the Request or Call, the presider asks the can-didates what they ask of God and his church. The reply, "We ask for perseverance in the following of Christ our Bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (RPW 59), links discipleship with the bridal image. After the public pronouncement of vows and the signing of the document of profession on the altar, the presider prays for God's blessing on the professed in the name of the assembly and praises God for this gift to the church (RPW 69,70). Nuptial imagery is woven into the text of the prayer as God is praised and thanked for the ancient covenant by which the human family was made "your bride radiant with your own likeness" (RPW 72). Then the new covenant in Christ is recalled and imaged in and through the church, which was formed "into his bride [and loved by him] with so great a love that he gave himself up for it" (RPW 72). The prayer concludes with an acknowledgment of God's loving wisdom: You have singled out many of your daughters to be disciples espoused to Christ and to receive the honor of his love. Holy Church shines with their rich variety, Review for Religious a bride adorned with jewels, a queen adorned in grace, a mother rejoicing in her children. Then the presider prays for the professed that they always be one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only Bridegroom . May they not fear him as their judge, but hear the voice of their Bridegroom lovingly inviting them to the wedding feast of heaven. (RPW 72) The words are followed by gestures and symbols that illuminate the invisible-to-the-eyes consecration. Depending on local custom, the professed are presented with a ring as "insignia of profession" (RPW 73). In Western cultures the wedding ring stands for this radical realization of the bap-tismal bond. As the ring is presented, the presider says: Receive this ring, for you are betrothed to the eternal King; keep faith with your Bridegroom so that you may come to the Wedding feast of eternal joy. (RPW 73) Nuptial imagery is reinforced as the choir and people respond singing: I am betrothed to the Son of the eternal Father, to him who was born of the Virgin Mother to be savior of the entire world. (RPW 75) Similarly, the "Rite of Temporary Profession" retains the ancient practice of the Presentation of the Veil to symbolize the new state of life conferred by the act of profession (RPW 34).4 The presider entrusts the newly professed with the veil, saying, "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the Church" (RPW 34).s Meanwhile the choir and people intone the refrain from the Song of Songs (3:3), "I have sought the Lord whom I love with all my heart" (RPV¢ 35, 36). The assembly echoes in song what is affirmed by the candidate and con-firmed by official representative of the religious congrega-tion. Distinct from the order of Christian virgins in the 4O9 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Cbrist" 410 early Church, this new and unique consecration is lived in community life, not in the privacy of a family home. Clearly, every element of the rite is "theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated." Gestures and symbols act as visible signs of the invisible reality of interior consecration. The liturgy conveys the meaning of an ineffable experience "in such a way that it becomes accessible to thought." As already mentioned, by the 4th century the veil.(flammeura) had been brought into the liturgy from Roman wedding ceremonies. The velatio (veiling) of virgins signifies that the virgin's body is "conse-crated by the divine Spirit," "dedicated to the Lord," "con-secrated to God," "consecrated at God's altars.''6 The rite signifies a new relationship of the Christian woman with Christ and with the Christian community, mediated by the bishop, as 'representative of the local church. The new sta-tus of the Christian woman virgin, bride, and disciple of Christ always stood out in the ecclesial community.7 Thus, the chastity and the meaning of "bride of Christ" coincide in this rite's blend of baptismal conse-cration and radical discipleship. Lex orandi informs lex credendi and transforms lex vivendi. Our catechesis on the meaning of the "bride of Christ" has relied on the lit-urgy to illuminate the meaning hidden in shadows. The Christian woman religious is both bride and disciple.~ In the crisis of symbolism in Western cultures, the symbolic value of the veil, ring, or any distinctive form of dress fares badly. We

Issue 64.3 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; lglous Witnessing The Spirit QUARTERLY 64.3 2005: Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to cbarisms 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. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ ~Veb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©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 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. ev'iew for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Wetrmaster Adv#ory 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 Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 64.3 2005 contents 228 prisms Prisms community chapters 230 Where Two or More Are Gathered Ted Dunn explores some of the unique challenges and opportunities pertaining to religious chapters of election, especially highlighting the differences between politics and discernment. 242 Chapter Delegates, Once and Future Sister Marie de Lourdes Mates IHM recapitulates and refurbishes some earnest practical suggestions about what to look for in chapter delegates. 252 Community Chapters: Seven Personal Beliefs Melannie Svoboda SND presents an outline of concrete expectations for a religious congregation's chapter meeting. Reflection and Discussion 226 259 religious life Invisible--Even to Ourselves? Marie Brinkman SCL emphasizes that visible unity-- community bonds--must become the sign of Christ and his church that religious life is meant to be. Review for Religious 269 Living in Community: Continuing the Conversation Doris Gottemoeller RSM returns to the discussion about the place of community living as an uncommon and striking witness to the power of the gospel and the dynamism of a congregation's charism. Psalm Prayer Reflection and Discussion 281 witnessing With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux: Letters of Mother Teresa and St. Thdr~se Mary C. Carroll SSSF gives witness to the wisdom of a loving friendship expressed in the letter exchanges of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and Father Michael van der Peet SCJ and Thdr~se of Lisieux and Maurice Barth~l~my-Belli~re. 296 Alfred Delp SJ and the Heart of Jesus Mary Frances Coady focuses on Alfred Delp's devotion to the Heart of Jesus that sustained him in his Nazi imprisonment and eventual death by hanging. 301 the spirit Led by the Spirit: St. Basil the Great Andrew Ryder SCJ enters us into St. Basil the Great's contributions to our theological understanding and appre-ciation of the Holy Spirit as the third person of the Trinity. departments 316 Scripture Scope: Encountering the Parables of Jesus 321 Canonical Counsel: Additional Comments on Interpretation 326 Book Reviews 64.3 200~ prisms The prevalent theological cat-egory in describing the church is the word com-munion. It is significant that this choice of word confronts the most serious need of our times. Communion emphasizes what binds us together. Theologians today want to say that this word most captures what the church is all about. Pope Benedict xvI, in his initial addresses as the leader of the Roman Catholic commu-nity, has called for a renewed effort among all peoples of religion to look to some kind of bonding or communion. The essential witness that any Christian gives is that of bonding. There is no working for justice unless there is a bonding with the "other." There is no exercise of charity unless there is a communion with the ones being served. As Jesus pointed out consistently, each one of us as a follower comes to serve and not be served--like him. We do not serve justice or charity out of a superior stance; we can only be on the same level, as with our sisters and broth-ers, and it is there that we work. Perhaps we may look like good secular social workers. As Christians, we want more; we are looking towards communion. If marriage in the Christian community has no greater rate of fidelity than secular marriage, then as Christians we are failing. If men and women in religious life commitment do not give Review for Religious witness to a life in common, then they fail in the most essential witness of their religious life. It is not just in entering upon a vocation and it is not just in generous service that we show ourselves to be Christian. The "proof of the pudding" is whether we truly are people who "bond," who live in communion because commu-nion is entering into God's life, the life of the Trinity. How in our times have we lost some ways of "bond-ing," of being in communion? It seems we no longer recognize that there are three progressive steps which Jesus has identified for us in the Gospels. First, there is detachment ("leave your father and your mother," "go, sell") or what we might today call availability. We come with so many non-negotiables; we come with our needs and our demands. Many of us Christians are unavailable to God and to one another. And. so the first step in bond-ing or communion is being available. The second step is generosity or being in service ("come, follow"). We often pride ourselves on how much we do for others, extending ourselves generously with our time and tal-ent. No doubt we are people of service, but is it all on our terms? Are we covetously in control of all our works of justice and charity? Both the first and the second steps can be half steps in living as a Christian. Are half steps any steps at all? The third is, simply, sharing or, rightly understood, surrendering ("take up your cross"). Commun. ion hap-pens when we are available, when we give. generously in service, and when we share our lives unstintingly--as God does with us. Communion or bonding is our 21 st-_century quest as a Catholic community. It is a quest that Jesus tells us is within our ~raced reach. David L. Fleming SJ 64.3 2005 TED DLrNN Where Two or More Are Gathered community chapters It has been said, "Where two or more are gathered, there is politics." Though many religious communities have embraced communal discernment as their preferred means for electing leadership, they are still not immune to the pulls and trappings of politics. Seeking to hear the voice of the Spirit through communal discernment can, at its best, eclipse and far surpass the influence of politics. Communal discernment, however, no matter how well practiced, will neither eradicate politics nor guarantee that there will be no regressive pulls in chapters of election. But awareness of the differences between discernment and politics can help chapter participan~ts resist the forces of politics and secure the grace-filled opportunities of discernment. Ted Dunn, a clinical psychglogist, wrote for us in our 63.3 issue (July 2004). His address remains Comprehensive Consulting Services; 6209 Mid "Rivers Mall Drive, Suite 294; St. Charles, Missouri 63304. Review for Religgous When discernment and politics collide, how can chapter participants make sense of all the forces in play? During a chapter of election, what are some of the regressive urges that may work against a community's efforts at discernment? What are some of the differences between "political" conversations and "discerning" ones? These are questions I address in this article. We are not likely to rid ourselves of politics completely, but I am confident that, if communities commit themselves to communal discernment, they can grow in their capacity to use it well. From my years of facilitating communal discernment, I am confident that goodwill and good ways of channeling it can enhance discernment and diminish politicking. This, in turn, can help communities to seek God's will more fully and thereby discern their choice of leadership more wisely. In line with this I plan to point out some differences between discernment and politics from three angles, namely, numbers, powers of persuasion, and so-called winners and losers. But first I want to set the context by elaborating on regression (returning to old patterns). Regression often emerges during chapters of election and, if left unrecognized and unchecked, can blight a community's desire to put discernment ahead of politics. Regression in the Face of Discernment For a chapter to be a success, its participants should check their human propensities to constrict the movement of the Spirit, and instead work Collectively toward welcoming the Spirit present among them to liberate and enlighten. They should seek ways of enhancing their own spiritual freedom and that of the group, avoiding anything that might hinder it. They need to be alert to personal and group patterns of regression and strive to eliminate them. I would guess that every 64.3 200Y Dunn ¯ Where Two or More Are Gathered community has had, at one time or another, a dark moment in which its chapter of election fell far short of its best intentions and let, for example, politics take precedence over discernment. I would also guess that-- although such a moment tends to recede from the community's consciousness between chapters--it often returns at the beginning of the next chapter. It is as if the walls of the chapter hall hold the memories and, when the chapter is convoked, so too are the memories. Despite such experiences, or perhaps because of them, individuals and communities I am acquainted with have made courageous efforts to move beyond the pain of past elections and write new memories upon the walls. I have witnessed participants building new bridges, mending frayed relationships, offering and accepting olive branches, and all in all seeking greater unity. Communities yearn to grow in discernment and put forth their best green-gold efforts when given the opportunity. Yet I also know that, as in all growing, communities are at risk. They repeat old patterns of tension and vulnerability. As a psychologist I recognize that regression is a natural and normal response in the face of threat. It is a coping mechanism that people use when new ways of behaving seem shaky or are perceived as failing. Think of the first time you tried a new prayer form and it was not working for you. You likely sought refuge, at least temporarily, in the tried and true. Recall a return to your family of origin. Despite your growth in other relationships, in a difficult interaction with a relative you may have returned to a once-outlived means of coping (withdrawing, clashing, and so forth). Recall your community's initial efforts at the more fluid processes of communal discernment and the simulta_neous urges to return to the familiar confines of Robert's Rules and carefully orchestrated conversations. Review for Religious When it comes to elections, politics is what is most familiar to us. It is part of our culture and is no less a part of religious life. Discernment is newly learned and also countercultural behavior. And so, when tensions arise during a chapter, you have any number of urges to return to old patterns, the patterns of politics. You may have urges to-rally around your friends, to defend perceived "victims," to speak for those not speaking. You may want to tune out, or argue with what you do not want to hear, or go silent in the hope of being rescued by others more vocal. You may want to have the meeting outside the meeting (in the halls and over coffee) instead of in the assembly room. You may want to campaign for some, and against some others, and so on. The good news is that such urges do not have to be your destiny. Your next chapter presents you with the challenge and opportunity to write new memories on the walls of your assembly room. It is a chance to further reconcile and redeem the pain of past elections. It is a chance to weave new patterns of interacting into the collective experience of chapters of election and place discernment ahead of politics. But the undertow toward politics will, if left unrecognized, take away your freedom and wreak havoc upon your desire to grow beyond your past. If it is recognized, however, communities have the opportunity to catch themselves and choose instead the grace and gift of communal discernment. Politics as an Impediment to Discernment We humans have an insatiable appetite for politics. Enquiring minds want to know: Who's on first? Who's it Discernment is' newly learned and also coun~ercultural behavior. 64.3 2005 Dunn ¯ 14~bere Two or'More ~lre Gathered going to be? Who's ahead in the polls? In an election year, politics and politicians dominate the evening news, CNN, and the front page. Political talk is with us at meals and up and down hallways and sidewalks. Religious communities, it seems to me, are no less involved with politics. In fact, if politics means involvement, interest, and concern for how you govern yourselves, religious are just as political as any other segment of society. They desire to understand what is going on in the world, in the church, and in the community and to participate in shaping the future. Politics, then, has its good points, but it is important to understand its pitfalls and get beyond them in order to do the deeper work of communal discernment. One risk is that politics and discernment have definite similarities. Both lead to an informed vote in an election. Both seek understanding and involvement. In both methods, information serves to influence people and to moderate that influence. And both methods are about power. There are other commonalities as well, but there are definite distinctions to be drawn too. Where does politics end and discernment begin? Numbers. First let us talk numbers. Numbers sometimes talk long before people get acquainted with the candidates and their character. In the politics of our day, there are endless permutations of the numbers. Numbers are the heartbeat of American pre-election activity. Pollsters keep taking political pulses and making election prognostications. There are more permutations of polls than there are stats on the Super Bowl. Results are statistically projected hours before the polls close. Such results are not official, of course, but they cause people to think and say, "Why vote? It's a done deal." In discernment, however, the significance of numbers is little or none. In many discernment processes a Review for Religious member needs only one endorsement to enter into it. And entering is far more important than trying to forecast where you will end up. Entering the mystery, walking the Emmaus journey, searching out your future together by collectively seeking God's intentions--these things are not concerned with numbers. Numbers will not answer a community's quest for healing, yearnings for a stronger partnership, desires for deeper understanding, or efforts to resolve differences. Counting numbers, wondering how many votes you or someone else might get, will not help you hear the voice of the Spirit. You cannot take a poll to find out what God wants. Numbers at the moment of election have a different, though still secondary, importance. Ideally, numbers are the result of, not the means for, discernment. Ideally, they are the outcome that confirms the will of the Spirit mediated through the chapter. I do not know about your community, but in some communities, once the balloting begins, discernment goes out the window and people start listening to the numbers. They write the numbers down, tally the votes, and track who is getting what. Like a runaway train people start following the numbers instead of the Spirit. The numbers take over. It is important to work as a chapter body to prevent a numbers-oriented election. Facilitators need to intersperse .processes into the election itself to help the community discern its way through to the end. Ideally, the election process should be the culmination of the discernment process, not detached or separate from discernment. In my experience, when an election keeps the integrity of the discerning body and its discernment process intact, then numbers, if used at all, are of negligible importance. Pozver~ of Persuasion. In politics, power is .sought from a variety of sources through a variety of means. Power is 64.3 2005 Dunn ¯ Where Two or More ~qre Gathered found first in the money used for campaigning. Money pays for ads and buys favors from special-interest groups that in turn lobby for their candidates. In one form or another, money runs the machinery that shapes the information that people receive, which is of course the ultimate means of influence. In American politics "information is power," and, if you want to know who has it, "follow the money." While voters want information about what their candidates hope to accomplish, and while politicians vow that they will "stick to the issues," too often there is regression toward name-calling and mudslinging. Politicians know that there is great power in casting doubt upon their opponents. So-called "negative campaigning" persists despite the public outcry against it, in large part because research shows that when used skillfully it works. Political elections, as we have witnessed, are not about how you play the game; they are about winning, no matter the cost. Politics centers on persuasion as a means to attain desired outcomes. Spin doctors seek to persuade by parsing the truth. Political strategists provide different information for different target groups, strategically timing the leakage of news, all in an effort to sway specific voters. Party politics uses these powers of persuasion to garner support for their respective camps, which in turn support their candidates. Selective information to induce fear or call for party loyalty is among the powers of persuasion in American politics. In discernment, though, how you play the game and what kind of power you use make all the difference. The power of discernment rests on faith. It rests on your ability to pray, reflect, and journey together in such a way as to discover your collective truth, to experience the movement of the Spirit among yourselves. Paradoxically, Review for Religious the power of discernment is inversely related to persuading others or controlling the outcome. In fact, detachment from the outcome, rather than attempting to engineer the outcome, is a hallmark of discernment. Discernment requires conversations about the direction your community is moving, the issues you face, and the ideal team to facilitate the desired movement. It is about who can complement whom, not who is better than whom. It is not about camps competing around special interests. It is about cooperating in the interests of the whole. Instead of trying to convince others of your truth, communal discernment invites you to discover the community's collective truth. Discernment is not about campaigning, convincing, and cajoling, but about listening, sharing, and deepening the common understanding. Chapter participants are not chosen to elect favorite, candidates to represent personal interests, but rather to come up with a team of persons who together can best serve the interests of the entire community. I believe that the power of communal discernment is in direct proportion to a group's determination to be enlightened by one another and by the commitment of all to the common good. This power is present in direct proportion to your freedom, individually and collectively, to respond to the Spirit echoed in the voices of all the chapter members. It is present to the degree you are interiorly free from whatever might bind you, be it your loyalties to others, passions around your own agendas, fears of being hurt or hurting others, or haunting and hurting memories. It is present when people are free of 64.3 2005 Dunn ¯ Where Two or More Are Gathered prejudice and free of gossipy reputations, of labels that persist year after year. Being flee, however, does not mean an absence of anxiety and fears. Rather, it means a willingness to name, claim, and, if possible, work through your fears rather than succumb to them. It means acknowledging your desired outcomes while simultaneously relinquishing any efforts to control them. It means a willingness to enter the unpredictability and mystery of your personal and communal faith journey. If you are free enough to embrace a truth larger than your own--free of efforts to hide from uncomfortable truths or blind yourselves to a common good that may ask more of you than you want to give--then your power to discern is enhanced. The power of such spiritual freedom is yours to claim. No one can claim it for you or work towards it for you. Freedom is inherently yours to begin with. If you do this work collectively, if you maintain deep roots of knowledge, passion, and conviction while holding all things lightly, then you will have access to the Spirit moving through you and among you, The movement of the Spirit and your own search for enlightenment and understanding are at the heart of discernment. Discernment is the polar opposite of politics. It is a continuous focus on winning, not on having won and resting on our laurels. Winners and Losers. Let us talk about so-called winners and losers. Who is better? The St. Louis Rams or the Dallas Cowboys, the French or the Irish, African Americans or Caucasians or Hispanics, rich or poor, tall or short, women at the well or men at the "Y," a lilac ora rose? We humans are prone to thinking in categories and classes. We have carved up God's creation into categories. We have boxed and labeled the people and things of our world as good or bad, right or wrong, winners or losers. Review for Religious ¯ We have prejudices, biases, preconceived notions, assumptions, and conscious and subconscious judgments that put price tags on so many things that God looked at and said are "good." God sees us all as both blessed and broken, but we seem to view ourselves as good, better, best, less than good or less than evil, depending upon our looks, ethnicity, friends, affiliations, or supposed motives. Children not chosen for this or that often feel "excluded" and "hurt." Out of such feelings we form judgments and begin to think in terms of winners and losers. From facilitating many community discernments over the years, I consider all participants winners. All community members who are endorsed, who come to discernment gatherings, who respond to the call to serve in elected leadership are winners. They take risks that have brought hurts in the past and perhaps even made them say to themselves "Never again." COmmunal disdernment i~,~[fOiJ[: ~de" }in g women ~ ~or men ~who,brzn~ g together a complement of gifls tha~;~in its ~isimportant for ~he :enti@ ~com~u~ity. Those who participate in discernment are asked to reach deep inside themselves to find hope again, when staying disengaged would be easier. Individually and together they are winners as they extend themselves beyond their comfort zone in response to calls from their community. Conventional politics would suggest that those who are elected have the "right stuff" and those who are not elected do not. Communal discernment, however, is about electing women or men who bring together a complement of gifts that, in its unity, is important for the entire community. 64.3 200Y Dunn ¯ Where Two or More Are Gathered Not long ago my wife and I attended our daughters' graduations, Kelly from high school and Colleen from middle school. For the occasion we went out to buy them some flowers. The florist asked, "What are their colors?" I was taken aback, having expected to pick out bouquets from the showcase and be done with it. She escorted us to a refrigerator, showed us a vast array of flowers, and urged us to have a whiff and take a good look at them. Before long we had flowers and greenery and paper strewn over the counter. Other customers watched us try various combinations to see what would best fit each girl's particular likes and sense of beauty. There were lilacs, roses, and other flowers whose names escape me. In combination, some were not the right color and some not the right fragrance. Some got lost alongside others. All were beautiful in their own right, but some fit better than others in the bouquets. At last we had two unique bouquets, each beautiful, each saying what we wanted to say. In your next communal discernment, remember that every individual has a beauty all her own. Blessed and broken, gifted and flawed, they are on the same journey as you. Some combinations of their beauty will express what you want to say, what you hope leadership to be. Others will not. This makes them no less wonderful, no less worthy. Their beauty will find other bouquets. In your next discernment, honor all these women (or men) with your prayers. Support all of them with your encouragement. Affirm them for their courage in walking deep into discernment with you, opening themselves up in personal ways to you, to each other, and to God. Walk gently with them. Your next chapter of election will be a continuation of the work you have begun at earlier chapters. It presents you with an opportunity to grow in communal discernment and Review for Religious be more faithful on your personal and communal faith journey. Anticipate, identify, and resist any regressive tendencies. Keep the election a matter of the Spirit, not a matter of mere numbers. Do not let it be about winners and losers. You are all winners, for you are all on the same team. Be gentle with yourselves and with your mistakes, for mistakes will surely be made. In your efforts to write new memories on the walls, may the Holy Spirit be your guide, and, where two or more of you are gathered, may you find Jesus in your midst. The Transient Seed To go wherever you would lead Will mean ourselves to die, Forsaking self and every need For you, risen, on high. Buried with you, the transient seed Awaits your Spirit-cry Creating us anew, rubied By blood from Calvary. Walt Bado SJ 64.3 2005 MARIE DE LOURDES MATES Chapter Delegates, Once and Future ~onh~hne m qyu arleigtiieosn aanl dsu rpeesrpioonr saisbkileidti ems eo tfo c shpaepatekr delegates, my response was typically prophetic. I screamed into the phone: "What? Me? Why me? Don't you think I'm a bit too old for this? You're twenty-five years too late! I know a lot of people who could do a better job." She listened politely and then replied, "Well, will you at least think about it?" So I did, and for some reason I just could not say no. Father Robert Morneau's article (1977, almost thirty years ago) was suggested as the basis for what I might say. Since I did not have a copy of it, I began to make my own list of qualities a delegate should have. I came up with a dozen or so. To my surprise, when the article arrived I discovered that the future bishop and I were thinking along the same lines. I thought to myself, "Maybe I should have been a bishop!" Many of you could Marie de Lourdes Mates IHM, who has taught at all levels of K-12 and published various articles, resides at the IHM House of Prayer; 140 West Mill Street; Nesquehoning, Pennsylvania 18240. Review for Religious come up with a similar list. I admit, though, that I learned a great deal in getting this presentation ready and even experienced a kind of conversion. That is what I will share with you now. The first word that came to my mind was articulate. I wanted delegates who would speak out loud and clear. But almost immediately I had a second thought--Whoa! Suppose they go too far and destroy what our unique history has gifted us with. No, another thing that must be present is a listening ear. This slowed me down, and I pondered the word dialogical, which Bishop Morneau had used. I called upon Webster for help: "dialogue: a talking together, a conversation." Not sufficient! Definition 2: "an interchange and discussion of ideas, especially when open and frank, as in seeking mutual understanding and harmony." Perfect! In other words, the listening has to be of a special kind, but so also does the speaking. To be articulate means to speak easily and clearly; you have to be pretty well convinced about what you are saying. Let me interject here a little story about listening. An interaction years ago with a freshman girl stopped me in my tracks and made me realize I was not truly lis-tening. Her parents were divorced. Her father was out of sight. The thirteen-year-old and her mother lived together, but in time the mother became interested in another man. She left her teenage daughter to fend for herself every weekend while she traveled by plane to spend two days with him. When. the daughter told me this story, I tried to explain that her mother had needs also. She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said in a shaking voice "But what about me?" I knew at once I had failed to enter into her world. I have never for-gotten her words, and even now they haunt me, still find-ing it hard to really listen. 64.3 200.q Mates ¯ Chapter Delegates, Once and Future Our delegates need to speak easily and clearly, but they also need to listen with a compassionate desire to enter into the speaker's world, not necessarily agreeing but at least understanding. Besides speaking and listen-ing well, Bishop Morneau said delegates must have trust. I thought, "Oh, this is an easy one. Isn't it a given that members of a religious community have a deep abiding trust in each other, as their polite conduct habitually shows? The thing that stymied me was that Morneau went on to say that they must have trust also in themselves. I puzzled over this long and hard. I came to realize that persons who have trust in themselves will speak their own insights and convictions with a certain self-confidence. I realized, too, that to do this they must spend time and energy listening to others and be willing to say inside chapter what they say outside chapter. Coupled with trust is another virtue, desire for truth. Regardless of who speaks--a retired sister, a young novice, a former mother general, an infirm sister, an artist (musician, painter, sculptor, poet, and so forth), or just one of the rest of us--the delegate's desire for truth must help her listen and then evaluate. She needs to turn off the stream of consciousness that runs all day long and sometimes washes past others, hardly slowing down for them. Our delegates should be prophetic persons. The Old Testament prophets acquiesced to God's call only reluc-tantly. Consider the following. Isaiah says, "What a wretched state I'm in. I am a man of unclean lips." Review for Religious Jeremiah says, "Look, I do not know how to speak; I am a child." Jonah--well, he just ran away. But God was insistent. With Isaiah: "Let's see if this live coal touching your lips will help." With Jeremiah: "Don't say you are a child. Go, now!" With Jonah, a storm at sea begins to get him to pay some mind to God. Consider the great-est prophet of all, Jesus: "Father, if it be your will, let this chalice pass. However, not my will, but yours be done." Being prophetic does not appear to be a much-sought- after vocation. I am mentioning these things about prophets because the women we elect as delegates will automatically assume the role of prophet. They will be missioned by us to determine the future direction of our IHM commu-nity. If this direction is to be in accord with the will of God, certain characteristics should be evident. They should be women who are perceptive, sensitive to the here and now. We hope they will walk unshod the way of the lowest and the least. We want them to come up with new and exciting ideas for all of us--the old and infirm, the young and ambitious, those nearing retirement, those changing their apostolates. We want them to respond sensitively to the question "But what about me?" as each group asks it. We also want them to be sensitive to our roots and traditions, knowing enough of our history to stand firmly on the shoulders of the courageous holy women who were here before us. Prophets are courageous. Consider some from our own time. Dorothy Day, who did jail time for civil disobedi-ence and also (as Father Richard McSorley said) "led the way within the Catholic Church on solidarity with the poor, racial justice., all those big issues., she brought the name Catholic to all of them. These issues that pri-vate Catholics see as politics she saw as faith, and knew it had to come from faith and be alive with faith." 64.3 200~ Mates ¯ Cbapter Delegates, Once and Future Consider our foundress, Mother Theresa Maxis, who was forced to live outside the community she had worked so hard to establish. Consider Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who embraced lepers and opened her heart to the poor-est of the poor. Consider Joan Chittister, Benedictine sister, ' whose outcries for justice and peace have been heard and will continue to be heard by many around the world. Perhaps now as we prepare for the chapter of 2006, some new courageous happenings will occur. Courage can be manifested in all kinds of ways. It might be just bringing an issue to the forefront for consideration. It might be putting some relationships in jeopardy because of what some see only as boldness or outspokenness. The model delegate should be a person of vision-- but what exactly does that mean? It definitely does not mean they live in la-la land. Sometimes, however, I think that the term vision triggers a picture of someone out in space. So let us bring it down to earth. Simply, an IHM sister of vision sees something that many do not. That "something" could be anything from a cute idea to a unique dream. It could be something so commonplace as a one-on-one learning environment, only one teacher and one learner. It could be a duck farm. A friend called me one day and asked if she and her cousin could use my computer and set up a conference call with a con-struction company. I said yes, thinking it was a matter of great import. It turned out that he was just starting to plan a duck farm. His long-range plan was to raise ducks for gourmet restaurants. To me this seemed crazy, but when he promised me a duck dinner I thought--who knows?--that maybe in the not-too-distant future he would be a man of means. The sister who has vision will see value in what at first seems crazy to most people. I am suggesting that Review for Religious we have to look beyond the ends of our noses to deter-mine the best direction for our aging community. We need to have some answers for the young, the old, and the in-between in our community when they ask, "But, what about me?" Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, had this to say about visions: "Progress will be carried forward by a series of dazzling visions." I love that word "dazzling." The visions have to be startling; they have to awaken us and get us moving. Long before Victor Hugo, the prophet Habakkuk also had something to say about "the vision." I remember it from a time about twenty-five years ago. In her morning talk a speaker had created an air of excitement, but in the after-noon session the excitement disappeared. I left the assem- .,,. Prophetie delegates need t6 be pcrsoqs, of " ,de ray&;: especially script al prayer. bly feeling rather down, but I remembered the words of Habakkuk from the day's Scripture reading. It is time to hear those words again: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets, so that one can read it readily. For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint. If it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late. (Hab 2:2-3) As I said, being a prophet is not a fun thing. Prophetic delegates have to work hard: read, study, do research. They have to make decisions, some very hard decisions. They have to make them decisively, with cer-titude (as Morneau says, referring to Newman), and then hold themselves responsible for what results. They need to be persons of deep prayer, especially Scriptural prayer. 64.3 200Y Mates ¯ Chapter Delegates, Once and Future Such prayer will illuminate their understanding of con-temporary issues. Dorothy Day can help us here. In her autobiography The Long Loneliness, she describes herself at the age of ten. "We lived in a house with an attic, and I spent hours one rainy Sunday afternoon reading the Bible. I remember nothing that I read, just the sense of holiness in holding the book in my hands. I did not know then that the Word in the Book and the Word in the flesh of Christ's humanity were the same, but I felt I was handling something holy." Dorothy's love of the Scriptures persisted throughout her lifetime and even-tually led to her conversion to Catholicism and to her lifelong work with the poor. Scriptural prayer should be the mainstay of every chapter member. It already plays a major role in all of our lives in the Christian Prayer that we pray three times a day. It would be worth the while of every chapter delegate, in fact every sister who puts her name on the list of nom-inees, to ponder well the words of Hebrews 4:12: "The Word of God is something alive and active: it cuts like any double-edged sword but more finely; it can slip through the place where the soul is divided from the spirit, or joints from the marrow; it can judge the secret emo-tions and thoughts." And then suddenly in verse 13 it switches from the Word of God as an "it" to the Word of God as "the one": "No created thing can hide from him; everything is uncovered and open to the eyes of the one to whom we must give account of ourselves." Dorothy Day at age ten was assuredly an inspired person. You might wonder why I have referred to Dorothy Day more than once. When I was a junior in high school, I joined the Martin de Porres Club at Harrisburg Catholic High. Every Thursday my friends and I traveled to an inner-city house run by a woman named Mary Frecon. There we taught little African American children, helping Review for Religious them with their school work and interacting with them. One Thursday I noticed that the work space was spruced up as if for something important to happen. About the middle of the session, Mary came through accompanied by an elderly woman with white hair. They simply paused for a few minutes, and I simply ignored them, being involved with the children and their work. Afterwards Mary came back and exclaimed, "Do you know who that was?" I shrugged my shoulders. She said, "That was Dorothy Day." I shrugged my shoulders again. Later on in life, I got to know about Dorothy Day. I have never forgotten her favorite quotation, taken directly from Dostoyevsky's The Possessed: "All my life I have been haunted by God." To that I add: All my life I have been haunted by Dorothy Day! To me her life seems the per-fect response to the question of the poor, the addicted, the sick, the helpless when they ask "But what about me?" Morneau ends his article about chapters by portray-ing the delegate as a wounded healer, the term that Henri Nouwen had introduced. Most of us would admit to being wounded people, people who have experienced some deep hurts, which sometimes seem beyond heal-ing. But out of those hurts can come deep compassion for others who are hurting. Without being told, one can sense it. Compassion heals, not only the one to whom the compassion is directed but also the one who is showing compassion. Hopefully, the delegates we choose will be women of compassion. Persons of compassion do not make judgments on the motives of others. If you have ever been the object of judgmentalism, your experience helps you avoid inflicting such destructiveness on others. A delegate should be able to balance tolerance of per-sons with an intolerance of falsity. Do not be dismayed if you are chosen to be a chap-ter delegate and you do not have all these qualities. It 64.3 2005 Mates ¯ Chapter Delegates, Once and Future will be an elegant sufficiency if the chapter assembly itself contains individuals who together have these qual-ities. It would be a miracle if anyone had all of them. Here let me quote, what Morneau quotes toward the end of his article (Micah 6:8): "This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God." I would emphas!ze the first challenge: "to act justly." I believe it encompasses everything that has been said up to this point. If we work to act justly, to DO justice, everything else will fall into place. As a community we are already becoming more involved in works of justice. We are responding to the poor and the needy here in the United States and in Haiti, Peru, and Chile. We are attentive to the question "But what about me?" and are alleviating pain and suffering where we are able. One day in Louisville, Kentucky, at Fourth and Locust, Thomas Merton suddenly realized that he loved all people and no one was alien to him. As a community we are growing in that same realization. For me there occurred a profound conversion to justice in the sum-mer of 1973, while I was studying physics at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York. One weekend a Franciscan sister took me along to her motherhouse in Buffalo. We visited Niagara Falls, and I was duly impressed. But later we drove upstream to view the Niagara River, the flow of which creates the falls--and mesmerized me. The river's swiftness took my breath away. The sunlight glittering off the surging waters filled me with a kind of supernatural joy, while their force to sweep everything before it--and me too if I let it--fright-ened me. I have never forgotten that impression. The memory awakes in me every time I read the prophet Amos (5:24, l~SV):."But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Review for Religious Can you imagine what our world would be like if more and more people let their justice roll down like a river? For us I think the time is ripe. Let's ROLL! The Crossing John 6:17 The crossing is hazardous: fragility 6fold wood in a fretful sea, the weight of oars against contentious waves, implacable darkness, absence of horizon, ominous thunders. Then - the skin grows cold with terror - like a brooding spirit he comes gravely across the water: fathomless radiance, first light of a new world. They stammer in recognition and welcome him into the boat where no one dares question what darkness he has crossed to bring them safe to land. Kate Martin OSC 64.3 2005 MELANNIE SVOBODA Community Chapters: Seven Personal Beliefs y personal beliefs about this chapter we are ~. iv .1. beginning amount to seven, the perfect biblical number. 1. This chaplet won't be easy. I say this not because I have some secret knowledge of what will transpire here these next few days. I say it because this chapter is a part of life and life is not easy. As we know, in the Bible the primary image of life is a journey, and any journey is fraught with difficulties. It takes courage even to embark on a journey, because we must leave where we are, we must let go of the known. We cannot start on a journey and stay put at the same time. Once we have taken to the road, we must negotiate unexpected turns, steer clear of dangerous potholes, plan regular "pit stops," devise detours around roadblocks, interpret road signs, and check the fuel gauge regularly. (Recently I saw a cartoon of two men walking away from their car. They had run Melannie Svoboda SND, provincial of the Sisters of Notre Dame of Chardon, Ohio, presented this material as part of the opening of their chapter of December 2003. Her address is 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. Review for Religious out of gas. One man says to the other, "I thought the E meant Enough!" It is one thing to see signs, another to interpret them correctly!)Journeying is hard work. Small wonder that we are often tempted to forsake the life journey by going back into the past (it is familiar and feels safe), by stopping altogether, or by taking a side road that is easier but leads to no place worth going. At this chapter let us recommit ourselves to the hard work of daily living, to the hard work of our earthly jour-neying. And let us commit ourselves to the hard work of this particular chapter--four days of undeniable self-discipline, the discipline of sitting, listening, speaking, praying, discerning, waiting in line. Talk about modern asceticism! 2. This chapter will be fun. It will be fun because we are here--and just look at us! What a unique group we are! Has God got a sense of humor or what? This chapter will be fun because where we are there is bound to be some joy and laughter. When we did the recent inter-views for the Appreciative Inquiry, how many of us said that one reason we were drawn to the Sisters of Notre Dame in the first place was their joyfulness! This chap-ter will be fun also because the planning committee has thought up some fun activities for us to do. But, most of all, it will be fun because we know who is ultimately in charge of this chapter. Not me, not our facilitator, but God! Yes, at this chapter we will discuss some seri-ous issues. Yes, we will make some serious decisions. Yes, there may even be a few tears as we try to express what is deepest in our hearts. But I hope we will do the work of this chapter with a lightness of heart that comes from our charism: that deep experience of God's goodness and provident care. Jesus is at this chapter. Maybe we should have made a folder with his name on it, Jesus is here in word, in 64.3 2005 Svoboda ¯ Community Chapters 254 sacrament, in each other. It is in Jesus' name that we are gathered here, and, as Jesus promised, "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I will be!" Jesus is with us. Emmanuel. That fact cannot help but bring smiles to our faces! 3. This chapter needs me. This chapter needs every sis-ter regardless of her age, education, health, ministry, temperament, background, mood. It needs every sister regardless of her chosen level of participation. In the name of all of us, then, I welcome every sister to speak. And I welcome every sister to listen and to pray. Throughout these days we will have times of formal dis-cussion. But we will also have times of informal sharing as we gather around the coffee urn, eat lunch together, meet in the hall, or ride back and forth in a car. The Spirit can use even these times to move hearts. Perhaps I may never say anything at the open mike, but I can still influence this chapter by some.thing I say in my small group or even while standing in line for the restroom. 4. This chapter must be rooted in the real world. God is found only in the real world--not some fantasy world of our own making. No, in the real world. And what does the real world look like? First of all, it is a world of incomparable beauty--from stars to snowflakes, roses to mountains, sunsets to the Grand Canyon. So much beauty! It is a world filled with innumerable people of goodwill--in all lands, in all cultures--people who live their lives with faith and love. But the real world is also a world steeped in war and violence. Historians tell us the 20th century was the bloodiest century in human his-tory. Ours is a world of the obscenely unfair distribu-tion of the world's limited resources--where 1.2 billion people live on less than one dollar a day. The Jesuit Jon Sobrino calls this reality a "macro blasphemy." It is a world filled with hunger, poverty, greed, corruption, and Review for Religious wanton disregard for the sanctity of human life. I could go on. But, the fact remains, this is the world into which Jesus was born over two thousand years ago, the world in which he still lives. And it is the world he calls us to serve today. This chapter, therefore, must acknowledge both the beauty and the ugliness of the real world. It must take into consider-ation both the light and the darkness in the world--the world not only out there, but the world in here, in °,. ,,. ~ .~' .' our community and in our own hearts. We began our chapter with a reconciliation service. That was no accident. May forgiveness and rec-onciliation be an underlying theme of everything we do here these days--and beyond. 5. This chapter can't do everything, but it must do some-thing. When we contemplate all the needs of the world, we can become overwhelmed. So many voices crying out for help! Yet our resources are so limited. At times the inces-sant cry of the poor can even paralyze us. We can find ourselves crying, "We can't do everything!" And that is true. We cannot. But, for God's sake, let us do something. I believe this chapter will do something. I do not know what, but it will. That something might be the passing of a proposal dear to my heart--or the defeat of one I cher-ish. Maybe this chapter will result in a single step in a new direction or an old one. Or maybe this chapter will begin to name the content of our next province plan, the focus of future province summer assemblies, or the agenda for the next provincial leadership team. Whatever this chapter does, I hope and pray it will result in some definite corporate movement forward. But °our chapter i ith recOnciliation service? 64.3 2005 Svoboda ¯ Community Chapters I also hope this chapter will challenge me on a deeply personal level. I hope it will make demands upon me, stretch my thinking, and cause me to question some of my daily choices--and cause me to alter them in per-haps subtle but very real ways. 6. This chapter will not be perfect. That is because we are not perfect. And imperfect people do not a perfect chapter make! Sometimes I hear sisters say, "I don't expect much from this chapter, because all we do is talk about the same stuff over and over again. I'm tired of it!" Well, I'm not! I am not tired of the fact that we often end up talking about the "same stuff"--like community, ministry, prayer, the vows, mission. I am not surprised or disappointed either, because that "stuff" lies at the very core of our identity as women religious. The way I see it, we will always be talking about these things--we should be! Why? Because we are on a journey, and, as we go forward, life will continuously challenge our under-standing of who we are and what we should be about. Could we ever exhaust the topic of prayer? No. Will we ever be "finished" with mission? No. Will we ever be able to say, "Well, we have no more problems with community living." Or, "Well, we've got poverty down pat now, so let's move on to something else. How about chastity?" No. In the novel The Secret Life of Bees, August, a middle-aged black woman, says to the little girl Lily, "There is nothing perfect. There is only life." We could say something similar: there is no perfect chapter. There is only this chapter. The feast of Christmas reminds us that Jesus came into our broken and messy world. He did not wait for the ideal time to come. Let us not let our hopes for the ideal chapter prevent us from doing some-thing good with this real one. 7. This chapter must be about loving. Let there be no mistake: we are gathered here these four days for one Review for Religious purpose only: to become better lovers. That is the bot-tom line. This chapter must help us to love better the incredible God who seduced each one of us into mak-ing a lifelong commitment of "chastity, poverty, and obe-dience according to the spirit and content of the Constitutions of the Sisters of Notre Dame." God seduced us. I know of no better word to describe the experience we all underwent. As consecrated religious we have the duty to keep ourselves in this ardent, pas-sionate, and dangerous state of loving. May this chapter rekindle our wholehearted and reck-less love for God, for Jesus. May it remind us that we are partners with Jesus in his mission--not because we have signed up for a cause, but because we have said a loving yes to a person. May this chap-ter rekindle our love for the. church. Oh, the church! Our poor, poor church! The terri-ble scandals! The unspeakable crimes! The betrayal, the deceit! But may we remember that this church is still our church. It is still Christ's church. As Archbishop Sean O'Malley, of Boston, said at his installation ceremony, "though we are living through a ~ad chapter in the church's history, we must recall that it is a chapter, not the whole book!" And then he said these profound words: "We come here today to ask God to make our pain redemptive." What fitting words for us, as Sisters of Notre Dame who have a 153-year-old history of being marked by the cross and a 153-year-old tradition of loy-alty to the church. And, finally, may this chapter rekindle our love and devotion to one another. May it remind us that, by mak- , H'a~v .e. .w. e :ever tho:u g h t ¯of a chapter as having onepuNoseonlY) :to become ,better.lovers ? 64.3 200Y Svoboda * Community Chapters ing our vows, we have bound ourselves to one another for the term of our whole lives. We have promised to live religious life not in the abstract, but within this partic-ular, concrete congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame. For most of us that means being embedded in the province of Christ the King of Chardon, Ohio. We live in a culture that deifies privacy, individualism, and con-trol of one's destiny. Such a culture desperately needs our witness of community, the witness of diverse indi-viduals living and working together--selflessly and joy-fully-- in Jesus' name to bring about the kingdom of God. My final prayer is a simple one. May this chapter rekindle in us the hope-filled daring of St. Julie, of Sister Aloysia, and of those countless sisters who have gone before us. And may our hope-filled daring be an inspi-ration for those Sisters of Notre Dame who will come after us--in whatever country they may be. In his apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata (§110), Pope John Paul says these words to us: "You have not only a glorious history to remember and recount, but also a great history to be accomplished." May this chapter be one small step toward the accomplishment of that great history. 258 Reflection Questions 1. What are the personal beliefs I would list about an upcoming chapter in my congregation? 2. What are some of the ways that we, could bring a sense of joy and a sense of passion into the ordinary busi-ness of a chapter? Review for Religious MARIE BRINKMAN Invisible-- Even to Ourselves? It comes as something of a shock to learn that some people of the Catholic faith community do not know what we are up to--we women reli-gious, that is. Engrossed in ministry as we are most of the time and in close touch with asso-ciates, colleagues, and other friends who by now take for granted our attire and our social or pro-fessional habits, we hardly realize that some still wonder where we have gone or why we live as we do.~ Others see almost nothing of our pre-sent community life or our ministries born of renewal, for we have made ourselves invisible. Unless they happen to know one or two us per-sonally, young women see little of the differ-ence we make to the church and less to attract them to the vowed life we lead. This is a claim many of us might question or debate, but few young women are knocking at our doors to give themselves to our enterprise. ] 259 I :. Marie Brinkman SCL wrote for us in 1971 and 2001. She may be addressed at Sisters of Charity; 4200 South Fourth Street; Leavenworth, Kansas 66048. 64.3 2005 Brinlrman * Invisible ~ Even to Ourselves? I want a other generation Of sisters for the ture mission and life of our community? This is not the place or time to raise moot questions about discarded religious symbolism. Options have been made available, freedom to discern how we will dress and where or with whom we will live in relation to ministries that we believe witness to the gospel. Yet, forty years after the beginning of our renewal, people ask if we are going to survive as vowed communities or congregations. How have we failed to convey to ,:~ them that we are not only alive and well but also are planning for a future even more vigorous and effective than our past? Given our reduced numbers and what some perceive as a disappear-ing act, that may sound like a pipe dream: Women's intu-ition, unreliable. Wishful thinking. Plain presumption. We stand open to such charges, but we do not accept them. Our young sisters are realists and pose questions of their own. Let me mention a few I encountered as we. were preparing for our sixteenth general chapter. In the reports from the council, from task forces, and from standing committees, notes from sisters fifty-five and younger were given careful attention. Calling themselves "Between Alpha and Omega," these sisters--who stand between the community's past and future--asked about the quality of community life, the diffusion of ministries, and a "visioning process" for looking at our future. A few paradoxes appeared as well as concerns we should all share. Repeatedly they asked for direction from com-munity leadership. ¯ Does the small size of local houses limit choices of how we can live in community? Review for Religious ¯ Are local communities willing to support a new kind of associate program allowing young people to live with some of us for a limited or extended time? ¯ How can we envision the future of relationships between SCLs and HCLs (our North American sis-ters and our hermanas of Latin America) and between our sponsored works and new ministries? That is, how can we deepen our unity of mission?2 Questions from the Associate Program director sug-gest the need for greater unity with the laity with whom we have intentionally allied ourselves for the past twenty years. Ties have been forged, and leadership within our institutions has been handed over; the identity and roles of our 180 associates are not so clear. One of them asked me how they might become more aware of the issues we face in chapter and beyond. That suggests a need for better communication and stronger collaboration with our associates--a stage other communities have already reached and gone beyond.3 A fundamental question the director of vocation min-istry posed to chapter delegates was a challenge that implied more than prayer and moral support. She asked us to ask ourselves: "Do I want another generation of sis-ters for the future mission and life of our community?" A firm yes in reply would bring a pledge to tithe a percent-age of time for the effort. Extrapolating from her recom-mendations suggests ways of committing time and talent. For example, the communication office for promotion of religious life in every channel of the media could draw on the volunteer services of active retired sisters. Houses of hospitality throughout the community could use the services of partially employed or volunteer sisters.4 A startling question came from the director of ini-tial formation, speaking in chapter on behalf of the fifty-five- and-under group. She wondered whether we realize 64.3 200~ Brinkman ¯ Invisible --Even to Ourselves? that, as women religious deepening our renewal of mis-sion and ministry, we are living "on the fringe" of the church in its present hierarchical operation,s Given facts from which the question comes, I would have replied that on the contrary we are at the heart of the church renewing itself. It is a matter of perspective, but I think she is the more realistic about the present and a consid-erable piece of the future. During a chat after an inter-congregational gathering, a novice, expressing what she felt, said in effect: "Where's our vision? Let's not be dis-tracted by a future of diminishing numbers and advanc-ing age. I want to hear us talk about the present and our potential and what we can do now to make a new future come to be.''6 She wondered whether so many small dwellings and so little cultural diversity can offer com-munity to new members. That is the voice of new life and promise. That is the echo of our founders, who knew nothing but risk and challenge. What they did we can do on new frontiers and in new ways. In her report a community councilor considered our progress in living out the vision statement of the 1998 general chapter, pledging us "to love the poor, to love one another, to live simply, and to unite the whole of our lives in the poor and loving Christ." Some of her questions challenged us to assess our lives in the light of priorities we have set for ourselves: to partner with the poor for mutual transformation, to simplify our lives in the spirit of our founders, and to make our local com-munity a welcoming experience and genuine support for each member--rather than a comfort to ourselves. Other questions challenged us to deeper awareness of what globalization has brought to the poor, to all our ministries, and to the life and mission of the church. They asked us to examine what "gospel values" and "work for systemic change" mean--in terms, for example, Review for Religious of personal and house budgets. They asked if we wish to--or even can--remain an ethnically homogenous group in the face of cultural diversity that is literally changing the face of the country we live in. Does our advocacy for the poor change us as it should?7 The councilor's questions carried implications. We may not be aware of who we really are or have become. Deeply different experiences of religious life and com-munity living divide us even within our day-to-day unity. The reconciliation we struggled to achieve during renewal chapters allows for a degree of hid-den complacency. Different perspectives on how our ministries--individual and community-sponsored-- manifest our mission may hinder further transforming action. Do we know what we are capable of and to what the Spirit now calls us? It is only fair to remark here that the chapter confronted these and other prob-ing questions persistently and with no little vision and courage. Writing the story of our community's last fifty years, I have learned something of the potential residing in institutions we sponsor and in various ways still staff. Their growth over these decades of diminishment reveals what women have always done in times of retrenchment: put people first, get purposes clear, find means where there were none, and never take no for an answer. The deluge of facts and figures took shape in patterns of change and renewal that most congrega- 64.3 2005 Brinkman ¯ Invisible -- Even to Ourselves? tions could duplicate or surpass. They include: ¯ mergers and coordinated systems of parochial schools, moving from strength of programs into lay administra-tion and staffing, and continuing commitment to under-served or inner-city areas ¯ the maturing of a small liberal-arts college for women into a coeducational university offering baccalaureate and masters' degrees to working adults, getting under-prepared minority students ready for college, educating youth to service ¯ incorporation of hospitals--regional leaders in health-care-- under a centralized health-services system com-mitted to community education and the care of all persons in need regardless of their ability to pay ¯ operating clinics staffed by sister or lay administrators and volunteer professionals to serve uninsured families and individuals ¯ transforming homes for parentless children into com-plex professional partnerships for treatment, care, and schooling of emotionally disturbed youngsters in both residential and day programs ¯ staffing missions in Latin America through forty years of growth into native leadership in formation and expan-sion of catechetical and healthcare ministries. As separate incorporation and lay boards for hospitals, homes, and the unive~'sity became advisable and advan-tageous, community sponsorship maintained the charism of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth through strong programs of mission integration. Certainly such collab-orationand continued presence in institutions that serve cities, states, and regions affirm an identity and confirm a religious mission. Are numbers, uniform dress, and common quarters necessary for recognition and symbolic significance to those who care anything about it? If not, what then is lacking? Why are those who retain such out- Review for Religious ward signs drawing young candidates, and why are we who faithfully minister without them relatively invisible? Individual ministries have witnessed to the gospel and offered religious presence in unprecedented ways during the last four decades. Pastoral ministry drew early numbers; women took leading roles in liturgical renewal, youth ministry, and the adaptation of the RCIA to cate-chesis and religious formation. Degrees in theology, min-istry, and canon law led sisters to chancery offices and marriage tribunals, to social services and diocesan hous-ing, and to spiritual direction and retreat centers. Choices of hospital chaplaincy, ministry to the dying and their families, guidance in holistic health, and counseling of delinquents, single parents, and families meant personal encounters that called on a deep prayer life and com-munity bonds. More rare but equally demanding have been calls to scholarship, writing, and the creative arts. Potentially paradigmatic in their effectiveness and extent are individual ministries to AIDS patients, admin-istration of mission and even city parishes in the West, and repair and renovation of houses for poor families in urban areas. Partnering with civic agencies is integral to such ministries. Our Office of Social Justice and Peace has allied our communi~ for these thirty years with the lobbying forces of Network, with religious and lay groups committed to creating a sustainable environment and combating systemic poverty and oppression, and with the humanitarian offices of the United Nations. Such collaboration is common to most religious congrega-tions. The community's leadership has allied us with the Charity Federation and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) in their proactive agendas of renewal and mission. All of these ministries and alliances are familiar to professed religious. To allude to them is to make a point, 64.3 2005 Brinkman ¯ Invisible --Even to Ourselves? 266 namely, that the renewed unity of mission and ministry that many now seek and a renewed visibility in service to the church consist in much more than celebrating our differences and prioritizing our use of limited resources. Our unity and visibility consist, on the other hand, in more than freedom to diversify our ministries in part-nering with the poor. Making our mission and commu-nity manifest requires that we discern the Spirit's call to all women religious who believe that in their unity the people of God have a unique source of power. Our vis-ible unity must become the sign of Christ and his church that religious life is meant to be. Our unity is a crucial response to the Spirit, whose power alone can transform the church and turn back the global tide of cultural enmity and systematized violence. One of the foundations for our own faith in our future is the solid work of renewal that has continued through decades of loss and diminishment and through a period of relative immaturity in dealing with new free-doms to dress, drive, reside, and relax as we chose. This renewal effort hungers for deeper prayer life while seek-ing more effective channels of action. This renewal effort calls for community bonds that will hold firm across dis-tances and separations. Once realized, it is communion, the ultimate grace of vowed life on earth. The unity we seek requires deliberate decisions like these, adaptable to our individual communities: ¯ To find common ground for all our ministries, individ-ual and communal, in the church's mission to transform social and economic structures of oppression into resources of human growth. This means conscious commitment to uncover and combat causes of the suffering we constantly work to alleviate. ¯ To create a community culture that is welcoming and visible to young women who may desire to live and work Review for Religious with us for varying periods of time as associates com-mitted to the gospel. This means opening certain con-vents to women of various ethnic and educational backgrounds willing to learn of our charism and mission without seeking a vowed life. ¯ To make of our community communications a min-istry (rather than simply sources of information), a min-istry that lets our various publics know that all our ministries are part of the broad mission of the church on earth. Admirable models of print and electronic media exist that show salaried personnel and volunteer workers dedicatedly pursuing the goals of the religious commu-nities that own or sponsor the various large or small institutions and initiatives. ¯ To seek new ways of bringing gospel values into the national conversation: new forms of education at all lev-els (like the Jesuits' Cristo Rey schools), or public lec-tures and dialogue inspired by the community's mission (like the Benedictines' Atchison Threshold or the Global Institute at Leavenworth's University of Saint Mary). This means collaborating imaginatively and being will-ing to take some risks. ¯ To seek collaborators among associates, alumni/ae, and other friends for ventures into the public arena that do not depend on financial support or common allegiances. This means engaging partners as Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac and other founders of apostolic con-gregations did, perfecting the art of bridge building between those with means and those without. ¯ To create offices of mission and ministry that assist sisters in transition or nearing retirement to discern where best to contribute their services, within commu-nity- sponsored institution( or in partnership with sisters and associates in other activities that can use their help. This may well mean active/retirement residences for the 64.~ 200~ Brinkman * Invisible ~ Even to Ourselves? mutual support of those more active and less active. If we energetically choose some paths like these to a renewed unity of mission and ministry in our communi-ties, a new visibility will surely follow. Notes t A case in point is John Fialka's Sisters: Catholic Nuns and the Making of America (St. Martin's Press) and Ken Woodward's review in the New York Times Book Review. 2 Sister Elizabeth Youngs SCL, "Between Alpha and Omega," Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth Report for the Sixteenth Chapter, June 2004, pp. 117-119. 3 Sister Sharon Smith SCL, "Associates Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth," in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 105-107. 4 Sister Sharon Smit,h SCL, "Vocation Ministry," in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 99-101. s Sister Mary Beth Minges SCL, "Initial Formation. 1998-2004," in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 102-104. 6 Conversation with Sister Erica Berg SCL, May 2004. 7 Report from Sister Constance Phelps SCL, community councilor 1998-2004, in SCL Sixteenth Chapter, pp. 16-25. ,Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Living in Community: Continuing the Conversation Scix years ago I published an article titled "Living in ommunity: Beginning the Conversation." In it I suggested that the unwillingness or inability of contem-porary religious congregations to discuss this aspect of our way of life may well be our Achilles' heel, the point of vulnerability that diminishes our integrity and threat-ens our future. The article included some definitions, theological underpinnings for community living, sup-portive spiritual practices, reflections on the role of lead-ership in creating and sustaining community, and some special challenges.1 The dozens of responses to this article that I received from readers in the United States and abroad convince me that I touched on a neuralgic point. I would say the responses fall into three categories: (1) Yes, you have touched on a vital topic, tell us what to do; (2) Yes, you have touched on a vital topic, but it is too late--we have lost too much to ever regain a commitment to commu- Doris Gottemoeller RSM last wrote for us in our 62.2 issue of 2003. Her address remains Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. 64.3 200Y Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community nity living; and (3) No, you do not know what you are talking about; it is the wrong issue and the wrong premise. In these pages I would like to dialogue with these groups. "Tell Us What to Do" The first two groups affirm the significance of com-munity living, but seek direction for its revitalization, so I will respond to them together. Several authors offer helpful insights. In a talk given to the National Religious Vocation Conference Study Days in September 1999, Nancy Schreck OSF addressed "The forces that push us toward and pull us away from community.''2 She begins with the assumption that community involves persons living together in shared space with shared resources, not in order to re-create family relationships, but in order to create the possibility of a radical following of Jesus. She develops a force field analysis in which com-peting forces or energies impinge on the reality of com-munity. The driving forces that she identifies include cosmic awareness, the struggle with diversity, the need for prophetic witness, the action of the Spirit, the iden-tity of religious life, mission effectiveness, a new desire in the members, the desire of new members, and lim-ited resources. The forces that move against community include paradigm paralysis, U.S. mainstream culture, patriarchal influence, drift, lowest-common-denomina-tor performance, adjustments made in good faith, lack of need, lack of energy, community as an event, ability of members, public witness, the asceticism of personal growth, and participation in multiple communities. This is not the place to analyze these competing forces. They are, however, part of the ambiance of religious life today, and have to be taken into consideration in any effort to energize community living. Her article could be a won- Review for Religious derful starting point for a conversation in any local com-munity or congregation. Another analysis of the current reality comes from women religious under fifty in their newsletter Giving VOICE. The December 1999 issue addresses this topic in a number of thoughtful reflections) The editor, Jan Hayes RSM, reports that the editorial team received "an avalanche" of responses to the questions: How do you define community? Does it include communal living or doesn't it? VVhat is your experience of communal living? VV-hat is it that you bring to group living situ-ations? What is it that you need? Does communal liv-ing add to the vitality of the larger community or doesn't it? Is communal living still an integral part Do ,we findit~ helpful to compare' the loosening of communal bonds: in American society tO the ~ame phenomenon in 'women's ,religious life ? of religious life? Space precludes summarizing all of the excellent contributions on this issue, both in the articles and in the comments received from emails and letters to the editor. The overall tenor of the contributions, however, affirms the centrality of communal living to the sisters' understanding of their vocation and their desire to grow in this dimension of their life. The sociologist Mary Johnson SNDdeN addressed the issue in these pages in her article titled "Bowling Alone, Living Alone: Current Social Contexts for Living the Vows.''4 She responds to an article by Robert D. Putnam titled "Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital"S and to my earlier article. Putnam's the-sis is that there has been a .loosening of communal bonds across U.S. society in the last thirty years. His provoca- 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community 272 five title comes from his observation that persons tend to bowl alone or in small groups today, rather than joining leagues, which require regular attendance. He has pre-sented this viewpoint in Vghite House conferences and national workshops and in other publications as well, and he has been quoted frequently. In Putnam's analysis, communal bonds, norms, and networks constitute "social capital" that facilitates coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit. He cites evidence of decline in religious involvement, labor-union membership, involvement in parent-teacher associations, and volunteering in civic, fraternal, and women's organizations like the Red Cross, the Boy Scouts, the Shriners, the Jaycees, and the League of Women Voters. He acknowledges that groups like the Sierra Club, the National Organization for Women, and the American Association of Retired Persons have seen a dramatic rise in membership in recent decades. But, as Johnson notes, while the political clout of these orga-nizations is considerable, the nature of involvement is vastly different from the organizations discussed previ-ously. Putnam says: "For the vast majority of their mem-bers (Sierra, NOW, AARP, and so forth), the only act of membership consists of writing a check for dues or per-haps occasionally reading a newsletter. Their ties, in short, are to common symbols, common leaders, and perhaps common ideals, but not to one another. From the point of view of social connectedness, the Environmental Defense Fund and a bowling league are just not in the same category." Similarly, Johnson adds, "a group of friends that meets quarterly, a prayer group that meets monthly, and a support group that meets weekly are just not in the same category as a c.ommunity that lives under the same roof and interacts daily." Johnson goes on to compare the loosening of communal bonds in American society to Review for Religious the same phenomenon in women's religious life. As evi-dence she cites research findings, funded by the Lilly Foundation, from a national survey of women who entered apostolic, monastic, and evangelical orders since 1965. Her data, based on responses from 70 percent of the women's institutes (whose membership constitutes 84 percent of the sisters in the United States), indicate that 69 percent of religious houses consist of one or two sisters. When asked "If you had your preference right now, with how many sisters would you prefer to live?" these post-Vatican II sisters responded as follows: with none (11%); with one other sister (14%), with two other sisters (12%); in a group of 4-7 sisters (45%); in a group of 8-10 sisters (6%); in a group of 11-15 sisters (2%); in a group of 16-20 sisters (4%); in a group of more than 20 sisters (6%). The gap between what sisters experience and what they would prefer is intriguing. No doubt the restrain-ing forces cited by Schreck above would help explain the disparity. There is much more in Johnson's article, but overall she believes that "the work of sharply defining and rebuilding community is essential to the mission and future of apostolic religious life in the United States and other nations where religious life struggles to free itself from the hegemonic hold of middle-class values." This probably summarizes the opinion of most of the respon-dents in this first group. Now to another viewpoint. "Wrong Issue, Wrong Premise" The most explicit argument is voiced by Barbara Fiand SNDdeN in Refocusing the Vision: Religious Life into the Future.6 In chapter 4 she differs strongly with Johnson and me (pp. 147-149). Citing both of our articles, she accuses us of a bias toward living together and a "high-handed" rejection of other experiences, saying that some- 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community thing new is evolving from the grassroots which needs to be taken into consideration. Because of the diversity of living situations today, she says, "the whole tenor of what used to be called 'community living' has changed." She adds that the alleged desire of potential new members for residential community living needs to be probed fur-ther lest it be mistaken for an adequate reason for becom-ing a religious. Finally, she suggests that Johnson's bias toward community living prejudices her as a professional investigator. Fiand seems to believe--as do others with whom I have spoken--that promoting communal living today would be an example of restorationism, a regrettable regression into some prerenewal version of religious life. It is regarded as giving way to nostalgia, a selective mem-ory about the benefits and joys of living together. Nostalgia screens out, she says, the struggles and dys-functions that were part of the reality. In response I would suggest that to restore an earlier practice with a renewed understanding of its value and with suitable adaptation to changing circumstances can be a valuable retrieval. Others object to efforts to restore community living on historical grounds. They charge that women religious lived "in community" only because the hierarchical church imposed this on us. Or, similarly, they say that something which was essential to monastic life was inap-propriately required of evangelical and apostolic reli-gious life as well. This objection would require substantial historical research. Investigation would prob-ably show, for example, that the Council of Trent's effort to insist on cloister for women's religious orders was widely resisted, as much by bishops as by women them-selves, since the works entrusted to them required the ability to be out and among the people. Cloister or papal Review for Religious enclosure, of course, is not what today's supporters of communal living envision for their apostolic lives. Investigation would probably also show that various founders from the 16th century to the present have had different ideas about the significance and modality of community living, and so the research would need to make a congregation-by-congregation review. The most neuralgic point in any discussion of com-munity living is whether a congregation should express and promote any norms around living "in common," that is, in groups of two or more. The most helpful resource here is Sandra Schneiders IHM's treatment of the issue in Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic Religious Life.7 The premise and context of her discussion is life in a "mobile ministerial religious congregation." Her thesis is that community life, "an intrinsic and constitutive dimension of minis-terial religious life, is theologically necessary for all mem-bers of the congregation, but that it can be embodied on the personal level in a plurality of lifestyles, both group and individual, which are related to each other as equally valid variations, not as legitimate to aberration, normative to exceptional, or superior to inferior" (p. 350, italics added). Specifically, she discusses congregational group living. (pp. 317-330) and three varieties of indi-vidual living. She defines each and spells out the cir-cumstances which may prompt it and the major advantages and challenges each brings. The three forms of individual living are living singly (pp. 330-335), living alone (pp. 336-339), and living in solitude (pp. 339-349). The first is the case of someone who would not choose individual living, but is compelled to do so by educational, ministerial, or personal respon-sibilities (such as the care of aging parents). Vghen the circumstances change, persons in this category are likely 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community 276t 7 ~ to return to group living. The second is the case of some-one who is self-marginalized, on a sort of exclaustration without going through the formalities. This is the per-son who probably has not been seen at a community event in anyone's memory. The third form of individual living is the case of per-sons who seek and choose solitude for their own spiritual development and psychological health. Schneiders describes them as neither alienated nor estranged, but deeply committed and actively involved, perhaps even holding congregational leadership posts. They are fully accountable to congregational leadership in regard to finances, ministry, and personal lifestyle; they are fre-quently involved in very demanding ministries; they are actively committed to the justice agenda. My observation about sisters in this third category is that they are the very persons with whom I would like to share community living and that, for every one of them who opts for solitary living, there is one less com-panion available to those who desire healthy group liv-ing. And so I do not agree with Schneiders that the choice to live individually is without consequence for the rest of the group, or that a norm favoring group liv-ing would be inappropriate. Each member's choice enlarges or diminishes options for others. The more often healthy and active sisters choose to live alone, the more the impression may be given that those who choose to live together are immature, dependent, and nonre-newed. Creating the Future What are some considerations for sisters who want to break through the hesitancy and silence that surround the issue of community living? Here are four sugges-tions. First, the venue for choice of a norm around com- Review for Religious munity living is the congregational chapter. By the very nature of what is involved--an authoritative interpreta-tion of the commitment to community--an individual sister or small group of sisters cannot be determinative. As with any norm, interpretations in specific cases and exceptions for specific individuals can be made by the leadership. This authority to interpret the Rule and to apply it in specific circumstances is one of the highest obligations of leadership. If done sensitively and consis-tently, it will build up the common good and respond to individual needs. Exceptions, then, will not detract from the clarity of the ideal embraced by the membership and the good-faith efforts to strive toward the ideal. Second, congregations will legitimately differ in their interpretation of their commitment. Their history, tra-ditions, and present circumstances may prompt some to choose the norm of living in common, others of living singly, and others of honoring individual choice. Clarity about what the normative interpretation of community is may lead to less diversity in lifestyle within a congre-gation and more diversity among congregations. This clarity should be valuable in describing a congregation to the larger church and to potential new members. Third, in discerning their choice around community living, each congregation should factor in how its choice influences its practice of poverty, of obedience, of celibacy, of prayer, and of ministry. Each of these ele-ments of religious life is meant to interact with the oth-ers to create a synergistic whole. How is a communal spirituality built up through the daily efforts of the mem-bers? How is the sharing of goods implied by poverty realized in practice? And so forth. In a way the manner of community living chosen creates a template for the realization of each of the other elements. The discern-ment should also project the possible impact of the 277 ¯ 64.3 2005 Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community 278] choice into the future. What will be the possible impact of the congregation's present choice a generation from now? Fourth, the congregation's choice of a norm around community living must be supported by appropriate resources, both material and spiritual. If it is true that forty-five percent of sisters desire to live in groups of four to seven, and this is consistent with the congrega-tion's norm, then housing must be found to make that possible. The loss of parish convents is one of the factors that led to the drift into individual living, and apart-ments will seldom accommodate more than two people. Of course, the investment in living space requires a good-faith commitment on the part of groups to use the space. Congregational leadership has to invite and promote the dialogues that lead to these choices. Leaders .also have to make available other resources, such as materials for group prayer and ritual, occasional group facilitation, intervention in crisis situations, and a general climate of encouragement and support. The intention in pursuing this conversation is not to simplify what is a very complex issue, having historical, cultural, sociological, and theological dimensions. Nor is it to minimize the experience of anyone living religious life today. Rather, the purpose is to call attention to a principal dimension of religious life and to invite a cor-porate discernment. Few questions cut closer to the real-ity of a congregation's identity than its norm or lack of norm around community living. Attempts at dialogue are sometimes stalled by the prospect of choosing between ministry and community living, with the assumptions that members cannot be expected to bring energy to both and that ministry is to be preferred. A better perspective would be to view both ministry and community as equally valuable expressions Review for Religiozts of mission, each strengthening the other. The presence of adults living together in simplicity and harmony, shar-ing prayer, hospitality, and the duties and struggles of daily living, is an uncommon and striking witness to the power of the gospel and the dynamism of a congrega-tion's charism, so much so that it deserves to be called a prophetic stance. Six years ago I closed with the phrase that is the sub-title of the Vatican document on community, "The Love of Christ Gathers Us into Unity." This phrase captures the motive and dynamism of community life. Only the love of Christ is enough to support and sustain this way of life. Love attracts and gathers us. The process is never finished, always calling us to greater unity, greater gen-erosity, greater zeal. We will all fall short of this ideal, but it is one that will never be approached unless it is artic-ulated in behavioral expectations appropriate to a con-gregation's charism and mission. Notes ~ Review for Religious 58, no. 2 (March-April 1999): 137-149. See also my article "Community and Communion: Making the Connections," Review for Religious 60, no. 2 (March-April 2001): 139-151. 2 Horizon, Spring 2000, 7-15. 3 Giving VOICE 1, no. 3 (December 1999). Contributors include Denise Starkley OP, "Community: An Essential Part of Charism"; Rayleen Giannotti RSM, "A Common Life and a Vibrant Spirituality"; Janice Bader CPPS, "Commitment Grows through the 'Rubbing of Elbows'"; Debbie Wells CPPS, "Generation Xers in Community: A Cultural Expert--No Experience Necessary!"; and Kathy Wright SL, "Community ls for Mission." 4 Review for Religious 59, no. 2 (March-April 2000): 118-130. s Journal of Democracy 6, no. 1 (January 1995): 65-78. 6 Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, Refocusing the Vision (New York: Crossroad Publishing Co., 2001). 7 Sandra Schneiders IHM, Selling All, Vol. 2 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (New York: Paulist Press, 2001). 279 64.3 200Y Gottemoeller ¯ Living in Community Prayer: Psalm 122:1-3, 6-9 I rejoiced because they said to me, "We ~ill go up to the house of the Lord." And now we have set foot within your gates, O Jerusalem-- Jerusalem, built as a city with compact unity. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem! May those who love you prosper! May peace be within your walls, prosperity in your buildings. Because of my relatives and friends I will say " Peace be'within you!" Because of the house of the Lord, our God, I will pray for your good. Reflection and Discussion What is my personal experience of community support and sharing in our congregational vocation and charism? Religious community life mirrors the secular cultural breakdown of social groupings. Do we agree or disagree? If we agree, what kind of changes would we want to work for in religious life? What would be some "norms" that a religious congrega-tion might establish to support and sustain a healthy living "in common"? Review for Religiou~ MARY C. CARROLL With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux: Letters of Mother Teresa and St. Th~r~se When Father Michael van der Peet SCJ, A col-league of mine and seminary spiritual director, lectured on Mother Teresa of Calcutta, it was not just his reporting of particular facts but the heartfelt friendship he had with this remarkable woman that inspired me.~ Because of my com-pelling interest, Father shared the twenty let-ters he had received from Mother Teresa and spoke at length about their conversations and his continuing sense of her presence in his life. I was reminded of another friendship and the poignant letters exchanged between Maurice Barth~l~my-Belli~re, an aspiring seminarian, and Th6r~se of Lisieux. As he departed from France for the African missions, Maurice was deeply consoled by the assuring words of Th~r~se that somehow she would be with him. What is it that motivates and sustains such relationships? Mother Teresa wrote her letters in Mary C. Carroll SSSF is a professor and spiritual director at Sacred Heart School of Theology; .7335 South Highway 100; P.O. Box 429; Hales Corners, Wisconsin 53130. witnessing 64.3 2005 Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 282 the midst of enormous travel demands, and Th~r~se of Lisieux wrote even when she was extremely ill. What is it that so strongly moves people to assist one another on the spiritual journey? Examining these two relationships may provide insight into Jesus' admonition to "abide in my love" (Jn 15:9). My purpose here is (1) to describe the origins of these two friendships, (2) to explore the contents of select letters and conversations, and (3) to share the wisdom of the relationships. Mother Teresa of Calcutta and Father Michael At a bus stop in Rome, Father Michael--a native of Holland and something of a world traveler himself-- noticed that the diminutive woman patiently waiting was Mother Teresa. Considering how rare such a respite must have been for her, he thought of giving her just a nod of recognition. But then he thought: "Here is a saint and I am a sinner. At least I can ask her to pray for me." Fortuitously the conversation that ensued included an invitation to give a talk to Mother's congregation, the Missionaries of Charity, in Rome. Arriving early and sitting in the chapel, Father Michael noticed the Ego Sum (I Am) on the tabernacle door. This became a prayer focus and filled him with a sense of "holy ground." This day concluded with another invitation, for a retreat. Mother requested continuing contact because, as she told him, "You kriow Jesus and you know us.''~ In her first letter Mother says: I would be grateful if I could turn to you for spiritual help, but I am absolutely too small and empty. Only Jesus can stoop so low as to be in love with one such as me. Pray for me--that "No" does not pass through my heart and lips---when Jesus asks. (Letter 1, 11/16/75) Because of traveling, Mother apologizes for a delay in her next letter; she assures Father Michael, however, that Review for Reli~ous a holy hour follows every Mass so that "I get the two hours with Jesus before people and sisters start using me. I let Him use me first" (Letter 2, 3/6/76). Several months later Mother is in New York and invites Father Michael to a private meeting, during which he suggests leaving after an hour. Mother's response is "No. The morning is for us, and the media don't know where I am." On. another occasion Father Michael raised a question: "Wherever you go, Mother, people con-sider you to be a heroine or saint. You received all those beautiful prizes. The Holy Father admires and praises you. You were the guest of Indira Gandhi, of Queen Elizabeth, and of President and Mrs. Reagan. How do you handle all of that?" She laughed and said: "Father, [pointing to her ear] it goes in here and comes out there. I am too small to contain it all. Jesus has given me a great grace, and that is the absoluteconviction that I am nothing without Him. If He could find a poorer woman than I, He would not choose me but He would choose that woman." This theme of "littleness" appears again in a letter: I want to write, but I have nothing to say, but that wonder at His great humility and my smallness--noth-ingness. I believe--this is where Jesus and I meet-- He is everything to me--and I--His own little one--so helpless--so empty--so small that all these things that people keep pouring at and round me, can-not enter within me. Maybe because of the darkness I do not see. Maybe He just wants it to be so. I let Him have His way. I smile at the cardboard box [referring "If He co ld find a poorer w man than!, He would noLchoose me but He would choose tha woman." 283 64.3 2005 Carroll * With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 284[ to herself] getting filled--with all kinds of things-- Big things, most of which I do not understand, but I know that I am being used--only--for and by them so that they proclaim the presence of the Poor--and their concern for the poor. And so I accept everything with a smile in their name. (Letter 3, 5/29/76) In another letter the theme of an unconditional love-- despite the inexplicable darkness that encircles Jesus within her--is quite pronounced in the last paragraph: My love for Jesus keeps growing more simple and more I think personal. Like our Poor, I try to accept my poverty of being small, helpless, incapable of great love, but I want to love Jesus with Mary's love, and His Father with Jesus' love. I know you are praying for me. I want Him to be at ease with me--not to mind my feelings--as long as He feels alright--not to mind even the darkness that surrounds Him in me-- but that in spite of everything Jesus is all to me and that I love no one but only Jesus. (Letter 4, 6/19/76) Within a few months Mother is writing of Brother Roger of Taizd's presence in Calcutta and marveling at someone so full of God and willing to live right in the slums. She promises Father Michael more sharing when her table is "a little empty of letters" (Letter 5, 11/6/76). There is a specificity of issues--providence and faith-fulness- mentioned in the following letter. First Mother refers to their wonderful "chance" meeting in Rome. We have received much from accepting to meet-- without being consulted or prepared. I do not know how He does with you--but with me He always does so--just to make me realize His tender concern for me and my nothingness--His fullness and my empti-ness- His infinite Love and my childlike love. (Letter 6, 11/26/76) Then she addresses Father Michael's personal concerns: Review for Religious "Let not your infidelity and hesitancy as you say--pre-occupy you, but accept all that He gives and give what-ever He takes with a big smile. For this is holiness: to do His will with a big smile" (Letter 6, 11/26/76). But that smile is difficult for her too as she handles her celebrity status in a visit to the United States. "It was all one act of blind obedience. I began to understand the Stations of the Cross with a deeper meaning. The Police, the crowds, it all seemed as if Calvary was being re-enacted all over again" (Letter 6, 11/26/76). The significance of the Missionaries of Charity and the Eucharist are recurring themes as well. Mother is impressed by a priest who points out that God has to exist or else the MCs have "no meaning at all." She agrees, but adds that the essential source for this ministry is the meekness and humility of Jesus: To be able to eat the Bread of Life--we need meekness and humility--if we want to feed Him in the hungry one. I would be happy if you [Father Michael] wrote about the hunger of man and the Bread of Life, the hunger of God and the Hungry One in the distressing disguise of the Poor. (Letter 6, 11/26/76) Regarding hours of adoration, Mother confides, "Here lies our strength and our joy." She concludes: "I ask you to tell Jesus--when at your wordwthe bread becomes His Body and wine becomes His Blood--to change my heart, give me His own Heart so that I can love Him as He loves me" (Letter 6, 11/26/76). Within the year, Mother makes a similar plea with deep affection: "My prayer is very close to you. I do hope you will keep me close to you in your prayer--and love Jesus for me, for all the times when my heart is cold and empty" (Letter 7, 6/20/77). A short time later Father Michael is planning an extended time of reflection and Mother has some pas-toral words for him: 64.3 200~ Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Li~'eux It is just like you to ask to spend the [three] 3 months with Jesus alone, but if during this time the hunger for Jesus in hearts of His people is greater than yours for Jesus you should not remain alone with Jesus for all the time. You must allow Jesus to make you bread to be eaten by all those you come in touch with. Let the people eat you up--by the Word and presence you proclaim Jesus. (Letter 8, 2/17/78) She then lays out a tentative plan for her scheduled time in St. Louis: I wish you would be there. We could--maybe have Adoration every day and so bring . . . our lives [together] with the Bread of Life. No greater love, not even God could give than in giving Himself as Bread of life to be broken to be eaten so that you and I may eat and live, may eat and satisfy our hunger for love--and He seemed yet not satisfied for He too was hungry for love, so He made Himself the Hungry One, the Thirsty One, the Naked One, the Homeless [One]. (Letter 8, 2/17/78) Mother claims that she can understand Jesus' majesty because He is God, but "His humility is beyond my understanding because He makes Himself the Bread of Life so that even a child as small as I can eat Him and live." In further reflection on the Eucharist, she recalls an awesome memory: Some days back, when giving Holy Communion to our Sisters in the Mother House, suddenly I realized I was holding God between my [two] 2 fingers. The greatness of [the] humility of God. Really no greater love--no greater love than the love of Christ. You, I am sure must feel often like that when, at your word ¯. the [b]read becomes the Body of Christ, the wine becomes the Blood of Christ. (Letter 8, 2/17/78) Her closing comment is characteristic: "He [Jesus] Review for Religious can do with me just as it pleases Him without even a thought of consoling me. I iust want to be His own lit-tle one, if He so wants. Otherwise I will be happy to be just Nothing and He everything" (Letter 8, 2/I 7/78). After more than a year's lapse, a subsequent letter includes an apology for a "long silence." She refers to the Silver Jubilee celebration since, with the foundation in Beirut, twenty-five tabernacles are established in MC houses around the world. With reference to the Eucharist, she again ponders the ineffable: "I just under-stand less and less the humility of God-made-man for love of us" (Letter 9, 5/30/79). A few months later, at the time of the congregational chapter, Mother makes a request: "Ask Our Lady to take care of our Society, which was born at her pleading and grew under her care. I would love to be just a simple Sister. I will not ask--let Jesus do whatever He wills without con-suiting me, for I belong to Him" (Letter 10, 9/22/79). She also offers an apology for leaving Father Michael and oth-ers at a profession in New York to join Cardinal Terence Cooke in meeting with the boat people: "The sea has become an open Calvary where the Passion of Christ is being relived . You only wonder how people can suffer so much and never break. Looking at them I feel physical pain right in my heart" (Letter 10, 9/22/79). Mingled with joy in the expanding congregation, the letter contains signs of a dark night of the soul: "As for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear. The tongue moves but does not speak. Helpless yet daring." Mother asks for prayer so that "I let Him have a free hand and even if He chooses to cut me to pieces that every single piece, however small, be only His." Mother ends with "Ask Our Lady to take care of me as she took [care] of Jesus" (Letter 10, 9/22/79). 64.3 2005 Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 288 There is a postmark from Rome on the next letter. "A bishop told me that I will spend my Purgatory in writing letters, because I am so bad in answering" is her opening statement. Even so, she claims that, "however long Purgatory may be, there is the beautiful hope of seeing Jesus, one day." Her delay is, to some extent, due to her presence at a synod. She expresses amazement to be "with all the big people of Church" (Letter 11, 10/18/80). At the synod Mother requests that the bishops and the Holy Father "give us holy Priests." She then reflects on Father Michael's priesthood: "How tenderly Jesus must love you as to use your tongue to change [b]read into the Body of Christ and through your absolution take away the sins, wash the sins with His precious Blood." Mother is delighted that soon "we shall have Priest-Co-workers." She closes with "Let us keep the joy of loving Jesus in our hearts and share this joy with all we meet" (Letter 11, 10/18/80). During the next decade Mother's letters are less fre-quent but, with reference to Father Michael's corre-spondence, she repeats, "They are my strength" (Letter 12, 12/29/82). Upon returning from Ethiopia she somberly says, "I only saw an open Calvary, where the Passion of Christ was being relived in the bodies of crowds and crowds of people." She hopes, however, to send more sisters to be Jesus' gentle presence to them (Letter 13, I/1/1985). "Often I have wanted to write, but not knowing where you are--it was [a] good excuse not to write" is one of the opening lines of her next letter. With so much poverty around the world, the three hundred and fifty MC houses in seventy-seven countries console her. In her imaginative way she says: St. Peter must be wondering what is happening in the homes of the MC's, as each one who dies in our homes Review for Religious goes to heaven with a ticket for St. Peter. [Twenty-three] 23 thousand have died with us only in Calcutta out of the 53,000 that we had picked up dying from the streets. Same is happening in New York. Already [fifty] 50 have died a beautiful death . At the begin-ning St~ Peter would not let me enter Heaven, because there were no slums in Heaven. Now Heaven is full of slum people. Jesus must be very happy to have those thousands coming to Him with love from Calcutta. (Letter 14, 1/1/88) Although there is a short typed note expressing grat-itude, the last hand-written letter arrives in March 1992. Mother repeats an earlier refrain, "Your letter brought me great joy that you still remember me and pray for me after such a long time." She is happy with an expanding congregation but hopes that the "Society remains only all for Jesus through Mary" (Letter 17, 3/3/92). Then, until Mother's death in 1997, the notes are short and typed but her spirit comes through, especially in the final letter: "God's blessings be on you as you continue to satiate the burning Thirst of Jesus." The last line concludes with "Please, pray for our Society and for me that we may not in any way spoil the works of love" (Letter 20, 3/10/97). In reflecting on his experience, Father Michael mea-sures each word as he says, "With her, you inhale God's presence." Mother's decorum is not "pietistic or exag-gerated." There is a flow of "something genuine, natu-ral, and spontaneous." At the ceremony for the beatification of Mother Teresa, Father Michael watched carefully at the unveiling of her picture and with grati-tude said in his heart, "There is my friend." In the years that have followed since her death, Father Michael says, "She has never been far from me." Whereas Father Michael and Mother Teresa met numerous times and exchanged over fifty letters, Maurice 289 64.3 2005 Carroll ¯Witb Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 290 Belli~re and Th~r~se of Lisieux never met, and exchanged only twenty-one letters. Nevertheless, their correspondence also provides a rich dynamic of a grow-ing friendship. Let us now turn to the genesis of that relationship and some excerpts from Th~rEse's letters. Thdri~se of Lisieux and Maurice Barth~l~my-Bellii~re Like Father Michael van der Peet, Maurice Belli~re --a twenty-one-year-old French ~eminarian--reached out for someone to pray for him by writing to a Carmelite convent. Mother Agnes of Jesus, Th~r~se's older sister Pauline, received the letter in which Maurice introduced himself with the words, "The grace of God, which impelled me toward the Sanctuary, has not washed away the last traces of a thoughtless life., and in spite of my efforts I have a hard time absorbing the spirit of the Church and holding myself to all the demands of the seminary rule." 3 Subsequently, while in the mundane surroundings of a laundry room, Pauline asked Th~r~se to become a spir-itual sister to Maurice by praying for him. Th~r~se was delighted, and, although they never met, thus began a significant friendship manifested in the letters exchanged, largely during the last year of her life. When Maurice Belli~re sent his first letter to the Carmel of Lisieux, he was desperate because his manda-tory military service was interrupting his seminary stud-ies and it could negatively affect his vocation. Within a week Pauline assured Maurice that a "little saint" would be praying for him. His next letter is quite idealistic, for he does not want to come back from military service "without bringing some souls back to the true Light." En route to the barracks in Caen, he drops off a postcard recommending prayer for the seminarian-soldiers and their saddened families. Review for Religious It is another nine months before Maurice sends a let-ter revealing a man, fresh from the seminary, whose per-sonal confidence in his ideals have been severely challenged. What exactly happened in the army is mys-terious; obviously, Maurice is disillusioned. He writes again, to the new prioress, Mother Gonzague, who turns the correspondence over to Th~r~se. With alacrity and sisterly concern, Th~r~se responds and soon learns that Maurice--having finished his military stint and returned to his religious pursuits--is now anxiously awaiting acceptance in the Missionaries of Africa (White Fathers). Excerpts from Th~r~se's first letter (December 26, 1896) are full of encouragement for the aspiring missionary: Let us work together for the salvation of souls. We have only the one day of this life to save them and thus to give Our Lord some proof of our love. The tomorrow of this day will be eternity, when Jesus will reward you with the hundredfold of those sweet and lawful joys which you are giving up for Him . I hope, Monsieur l'Abb~, that you will continue to pray for me, who am no angel as you seem to think, but a poor little Carmelite who is very imperfect--yet who in spite of her poverty wants, like yourself, to work for the glory of God. Thtr~se includes some of her poems. Maurice is grateful, apologizing for his "rough and ready" prose but saying he feels that something in her communication is working in the depths of his soul. Th~r~se responds with equal gratitude: "Truly, only in heaven will you know how dear you are to me. I feel our souls are made to understand each other." In this same letter Th~r~se articulates her "little way" by saying: "Since He Himself has chosen me to be your sis-ter, I hope that He will not take notice of my weakness, or rather that He will use that very weakness to do His work: 29i 64.3 200~ Carroll ¯ With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 2921 for the Strong God likes to show His power by making use of nothing." Th~r~se has lofty desires that can be accomplished by being the "small flower" in the apostolic garden. For Thdr~se, the Divine One is not giving awards to the competent but rewards to the humble who are con-fident in Him, It is not entitlement but instrumentality. There is an increasing intimacy in Thdr~se's saluta-tion in the next letter. "My dear little Brother" replaces the formal "Monsieur l'Abb&" Fearing an overestima-tion of her person, she says, "I beg you to believe me that the good God has given you as your sister not a great soul." But she hastens to add: "Don't think that this is humility which prevents me from recognizing the gifts of the good God. I know that He has done great things in me, and every day I sing to Him with joy for doing so." Her motivation has also crystallized. "I under-stood my mission was not to crown a mortal king, but to make the King of Heaven loved, to conquer for Him the kingdom of hearts." Just months before her death, Thdr~se takes advan-tage of the privacy afforded her in the infirmary to answer Maurice's letters. She makes it clear that she is facing the end and assumes that, when he receives her letter, she will have left this "land of exile." There seems to be a sense of urgency when she says, "I would like to tell you a thousand things which I understand as I stand at the door of Eternity." One thing is clear: "I under-stand more than ever that only one thing is necessary, and that is to work solely for Him." A month later Thdr~se says, "The Spouse is at the door." Facing her own demise, she wants Maurice to know that their relationship will continue. "When my dear lit-tle brother leaves for Africa, I shall follow him not only in thought and in prayer; my soul will be with him for-ever." But Maurice is devastated when he understands Review for Religious that TMr~se's days are numbered, for he has found "a lovely home" in her friendship. He lets her know that she has been instrumental in his finding Jesus. Maurice soon expresses his anxieties and moral weak-ness. Thdr~se uses the image of an elevator of love, not fear, that takes us to God. She gives the exam-ple of two children who are disobedient. One withdraws in fright, but the other throws himself into their father's arms to beg forgiveness. Thdr~se promises to help Maurice remedy his hesitancy with God. "I think it will be easier for you to live with Jesus once I am there at His side forever." Thdr~se knows she must wait for the next life to further converse on these profound realities. In Thdr~se's last letter she speaks of knowing that her passport for heaven is ready and credits her deceased father for the grace of that awareness. Once again she assures Maurice that, whatever his faults, he is .dealing with the infinite mercy of God. She closes with: "ADieu, dear little brother, may God give us the grace to love Him and to save souls for Him." In the meantime Maurice is on board a ship destined for Africa. He recalls looking up at the stars and praying for Thdr~se, unaware it was the night she died. His first day in Africa is Thdr~se's first day in eternity. Later he is convinced that his peacefulness and joy are attributable to her. If today one goes to Maurice's grave, there is a plaque on the wall of the nearby church acknowledging this relationship: Maurice Belli~re, Spiritual Brother and Protdgd of Saint Th4r~se. A Dieu, dear littlebrother, may God give us the grace to love Him and to save soulsfor Him," 1293 64.3 2005 Carroll * With Love from Calcutta and Lisieux 294 Summary Observations These two women--sending letters permeated with affection, gratitude, and insights--gifted both Father Michael van der Peet and Maurice Barth~l~my-Belli~re. Mother Teresa's themes are more broadly based: retreat requests, Eucharistic insights, concern for an expanding congregation, global poverty, and a thirst for God whet-ted by an acute spiritual darkness that seem to hollow her out for a greater fullness of Jesus' presence. In each MC house she had the phrase "I thirst" given a prominent place as a reminder of Jesus' longing for souls, and per-haps as a reflection of her own longing for God. Th~r~se and Maurice were in their twenties and fer-vently idealistic. Th~r~se articulates the "little way" to accompany her dreams. She uses the face of Jesus and the phrase "King of Hearts" to focus her image of her Beloved. There is immediacy in Th~r~se's writing because it is penned as she stands at the door of death while whispering secrets to Maurice. Although cloistered in life, she promises that in eternity she will travel with him as a spiritual companion. Both women view themselves as God's instruments: a cardboard box, an insignificant flower. In life, many know similar images of themselves and reluctantly accept them, but these women rejoice in them. Both knew they are not sources, only conduits, of love. Both women say to their friends what John the Baptist once said: "He must increase, and I must decrease" (Jn 3:30). But, most especially, both women testify to a divine indwelling through Jesus that makes true friendship possible. "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you; abide in my love" (Jn 15:9). Notes ~ Father Michael van der Peer, a member of the international Congregation of the Priests of the Sacred Heart (SCJ), served on the Review for Religious commission for the beatification of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. He has graciously given me permission to quote from her letters and has answered numerous questions. Further resources regarding her expe-rience with spiritual direction are J. Neuner SJ, "Mother Teresa's Charism," and Albert Huart SJ, "Mother Teresa: Joy in the Night," Review for Religious 60 (September-October 2001): 479-493 and 494- 502 respectively. 2 Words quoted here and below (whether Mother Teresa's or Father Michael's), if not otherwise documented, are from my interviews with Father van der Peet. 3 Patrick Ahern, Maurice and Tberese: The Story of a Love (New York: Doubleday, 1998), p. 15. Below, other quotations longer than three words are from the following pages of this book: 25, 65-66, 82 and 86, 82, 103 and 108, 104-I05, 106, 130, 129-130, 152 and 155, 153,188, and 211. At Cana Before time was, She was in God's eye, As a bloom in the bud Awaits its moment. And the moment, too, Was in God's eye, That sees and saves, Counts hairs on heads, Yet defers to her, Her.unspoken wish Already his command. Leonard Cochran OP 64.3 2005 MARY FRANCES COADY Alfred Delp SJ and the Heart of Jesus 296 O n the first day of December 1944, a thirty-seven- year-old Jesuit, imprisoned in Berlin and awaiting trial for treason against the Third Reich, edged himself between the plank bed and table of his small cell and with manacled hands began to write a reflection on the Heart of Jesus. His name was Alfred Delp, and he had been arrested four months earlier in an all-out purge following a failed attempt on Hitler's life the previous July. He had been interrogated and tortured. In letters smuggled out of prison by two women who brought clean laundry and other supplies to prisoners, he had written about his fear, his struggles against despair, his optimistic hopes for acquittal and release, and his desire to leave his fate in the hands of God. The date, 1 December, that he began putting his meditation to paper is significant, for as the day dawned he realized it was the first Friday of the month, the day honoring the Heart of Jesus. This devotion held a cen- Mary Frances Coady published With Bound Hands, about Father Delp, at Loyola Press in 2003. She writes from 35 Cowan Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M6K 2N1 Canada. tral place in Delp's prayer life. The veneration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, with its deep biblical roots, had grown to enormous popularity with the revelations to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque in the late 17th century. This obscure Visitation nun received visions of Jesus in the chapel of her convent in the town of Paray-le- Monial, in Burgundy. In these visions Jesus exposed his heart to her, saying, "Behold my heart, which burns with love for all humanity." He added that those who received Communion for nine consecutive first Fridays in repa-ration for sins against his love were assured of dying in the state of grace. In the following centuries and under Jesuit influence, the Sacred Heart devotion ushered in a new and more gentle approach to the Christian spiritual life--one of self-abandonment, trust, and surrender--as a means of combatting the cold, harsh spirit of Jansenism that had permeated the church. The Litany of the Heart of Jesus was given official church approval in 1891. Along the way, however, the devotion became encrusted with infe-rior art, sugary sentimentality, and obsessive supersti-tions regarding the nine first Fridays. Alfred Delp, the product of a Catholic-Lutheran mar-riage, grew up without Catholic devotions because his father insisted he be brought up a Lutheran. The Sacred Heart caught up with him, however, after his adolescent embrace of his mother's Catholicism and his subsequent entrance into the Society of Jesus in 1926. A book of Jesuit devotions, one of which was the Litany of the Sacred Heart, was sent to him in prison. Delp had studied philosophy and political theory, but his prayer life as a Jesuit had been fashioned by the Catholic piety of the time. As a preacher and writer, he had tried to infuse his philosophical work with his deep-ening sense of the divine mystery at the core of his devo- 64.3 2005 298 tions. On the first Friday of December, in his cold prison cell, his hands in manacles, he pondered the love of God as the driving force of the universe. In the extremity of his situation, he realized the immensity of God's love for him, that God was holding him and protecting him with a love that was infinitely greater and more powerful than the forces imprisoning him. And so he began to write his meditation on the Litany of the Heart of Jesus. The heart represents the essence, or center, of a per-son, and he had earlier written of the heart as the only way to God. Now, in a preamble to his meditation, he lamented the dissociation of the devotional from the the-ological. Without a theological foundation, he wrote, the devotion can dissolve into mush, and without the devotion the theology becomes dry and devoid of personal passion. He described the arc that moves between the divine and the human: the basis of this devotion is the cry of the creature in need and the offer of help from God through Jesus Christ. The answer from God takes two forms: a healing, redemptive help and a call for humanity to share in that healing. And so this is not a just a "me and God" approach to the heart of Jesus, but a proposal to be a graced presence for others as well. The language used in the prayer is the language of love, but the theological framework is there. The prayer expresses a deep, myste-rious relationship between God and humanity, he wrote, and must not be demeaned by sentimentality. As with other litanies, the Litany of the Heart of Jesus follows an antiphonal course; the response "Have mercy on us" follows each of the various titles attributed to Jesus. What follows is my translation of an excerpt from Delp's reflection on the first invocation: "Heart of Jesus, Son of the eternal Father." "We call upon the Heart of the Son of the eternal Father. In this invocation there are particular consider- Review for Religious ations for us to contemplate. Heart: here, as in the whole litany, we are calling upon the love of God. The Heart is the symbol of God's innermost being and God's fun-damental relationship with us. A person who does not believe in God in this way should not continue praying, because that person is not up to the words of the prayer. "Heart of the Son: one ought to be able to state briefly what theology has to say about the Son. But one thing should be men-tioned as far as this devo-tion is concerned: from the beginning, the Son is the place of comfort and belonging for the world. The Word is God's image, of which we are shadows. He has always been the living incarnation of God's commitment to the worl

Issue 59.4 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; )ULY: AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 to Gbd~s ,univerial call, to holiness by ~n~aking available :to tb~mJtbe~piritual legaHes }bat flow from tbe cbarism~ of Catbolic ~onse~ated life:, Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; ~VVashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Re'biew for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (article~, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ ¯ Patricia Wittberg SC JULY AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 contents 342 women religious Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities Mary Anne Foley CND presents the renewal of women's communities as a work in progress which faces the challenge to move beyond .present viewpoints in order to see a fuller truth. 358 A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence Bernadine Pieper CHM shares her experience of being in leadership at the time of Vatican II changes. 368 finding God Einding God's WiII--A Maneuver W. Henry Kenney Sj describes a process for finding God's will by popping loaded questions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. 379 Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB guides us to the central core of ourselves where we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. Review for Religious religious vocations Tell Them, Tell the New Members. Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ proposes the need to share with younger members of congregations hints about what is most central to religious life: the mystery of divine intimacy. 396 Sister Moms: Something Old, Something New Louise Cababe OP reports on the contemporary phenomenon of women, having been married and having raised a family, bringing a new and beautiful experience to religious congregations. 399 Vocational Confidence Donald Macdonald SMM sketches out an environment of vocational confidence whei'e vocations are invited, expected, challenged, and supported. 410 prayer perspectives Praying through Sleep A. Paul Dominic SJ explores various relationships between our sleeping and our praying. 420 Toward a Spirituality of Weariness Michael D. Moga SJ considers some of the paths that lead to spiritual treasures hidden in the areas of our exhaustion and weariness. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Exceptions to Duration of the Canonical Novitiate 435 Book Reviews July-August 2000 prisms Te jubilee year we are cele-brating provides us a challenge to our observance of the Sabbath. Sabbath has always been identified with the seventh day--the day of the Lord's rest after the six days' work of creation as depicted in chapter one of.the Book of Genesis. The Christian tradition reidentified the Lord's day with the resurrection victory of Jesus, bringing to fullness the work of redemption. The idea of refraining from work has often received greater attention even though the church has always identified "making holy" the Lord's day--Sunday--by the twofold obligation of celebrating the Eucharist and doing no servile work. Of course, there h~s been a lot of moral casuistry applied to the meaning of servile work, so much, perhaps, that the focus on God slipped because of the overwhelming emphasis on human activity--what was right, what was wrong, how long or how drudging could the work be, and so On. Pe.rhaps this year of jubilee can be a call to us to mov~ beyond the casuistry and to recapture the spirit of the Sabbath. Sabbath means, above all, a chosen awareness of spending time with God. If we are to spend time with God, then we have to take time for ourselves--not just time filled up with more "doing," even .with passive sporting events or active participations in games, but time which we describe so well today in terms of just "being." Sabbath is meant to be a deeply humane time because then God can become more active in us. Sabbath points to the movement of the oft-quoted expression of St. Irenaeus: "God's glory is the human being come fully alive, and seeing God is what human life is." Review for Religqous Eucharist belongs to the Christian Sunday observance because we celebrate God's glory shining out in the victorious risen Jesus, the firstborn of the new creation. But what else for us belongs to our Sabbath observance? What enhances our relationship with God? In other words, how do we devote time to making ourselves more humane--loving, compassionate, wise, generous, available, shar-ing- so that God's glory does shine out now through us? When we truly observe the Sabbath, we are more and more like the sacra-ments of God that our Christian vocation calls us to be. Another viewpoint. In the northern hemisphere, vacation time is upon us. Vacation, being personal rest time, shares in the sabbath notion. We sometimes refer to spiritual retreats as "vacations with God." Retreats, of course, take their focus from considering our relation with God. But would we be acting more Christian if we viewed ordinary vacation time through a prism similar to our Sunday observance? Vacation time does not need to be spent "reli-giously," performing devotional prayers and acts. But would it not be appropriate for us Christians to spend our recuperative and relaxing time with a more spiritual focus? Vacation means a time of "emptying out" (of mental cobwebs and secular preoccupations) and a "leaving space" (for attention to an ever present and loving God) in the ordinariness of our life. "Keep holy the sabbath day," then, should draw our attention not to what is to be avoided, but to what enhances our relationship with God, with ourselves, with our neighbor, and with our world. Those relationships are meant to be observed together, as a whole, when we speak of "keeping holy." Keeping holy deals with all our relationships viewed in the light of God and Jesus Christ. 'When we keep holy, we move with the Spirit. We let ourselves be moved by the Spirit--with all those with whom we converse, in all things we do. Jubilee, sabbath, and our secular vacation all find their mean-ing in the one reality of celebrating God in our life. This millen-nium year is the opportunity to remember thht jubilees, sabbaths, and vacations come to us not by some kind of law or right, but by gift--the gift of God. These time periods remind us to take stock and enjoy the God-with-us now so that we take from these "moments" the realized promise and consolation of our lifetime with God forever. ¯David L. Fleming SJ 37uly-August 2000 women MARY ANNE FOLEY Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities religious Last year I spent much of Holy Week working my way through Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities.l The book's reviews did not make me anxious to read it, but I felt obliged to do so. For some years most of my research has focused on the history of religious communities of women, and my concerns about initiating new members have forced me to confront questions about the future of this way of life. Moreover, having lived through the tumultuous past three decades of change in women's communities, I have wanted and needed to gain some perspective on the experience) Although not planned, the timing of my reading proved to be both appropriate and helpful. I felt pain and anger at seeing the women who were most instru-mental in leading the changes characterized as deliber-ately manipulative, bent on revenge, unfaithful, and heretical, and those who moved with the changes they advocated, as naive, foolish, or incapable of under-standing what was taking place. At another time I might have been inclined simply to dismiss Carey's work, but reading it in the shadow of the cross enabled me to lis- Mary Anne Foley CND, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, is an associate professor of the-ology at the University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review fir Religious ten to what was being said under and through the words, and hence to become vulnerable to it. It was somewhat like the expe-rience of reading The Autobiography ofMakolm X. I knew I was not the "white devil" he came to loathe while in prison, but I began to see why he viewed me in that way and then to recognize my own complicity in his hellish situation. Carey's stated intention is simply to document the significant changes that have taken place within Catholic communities of women in the United States over the last forty years. She does so as a journalist, relying not on her own experience but on personal conversations and extensive archival research. The book's subtitle, however, reveals the perspective from which she writes. She is convinced that the changes have been an aberration, leading these groups away from genuine religious life. Carey belieyes that the sis-ters most disaffected as a result of the changes are afraid to speak for themselves, and so shehas chosen to speak for them. While always naming the "change-oriented" sisters she cites, she often identifies her sources among "traditional" sisters only by the name of their congregation or as Sister S., for example) One of these anonymous sources insists that many older religious are experi-encing "a time of martyrdom" as they risk being "cut off, threat-ened, and persecuted" if they challenge the directions their communities have taken (Crisis, 309). Whether or not this sister represents the views of many others, and even whether or not the threat she describes is real, it is important that she be heard, and Carey challenges the reader to listen. According to Sisters in Crisis, the reason for what emerged during the postconciliar years was, first of all, a program of mis-information concerning authentic Vatican Council II teaching, orchestrated prifiaarily by officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), known earlier as the Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW). Carey traces the rebellion back to the Sister Formation Movement in the 1950s, which exposed young sisters to the social sciences and "controversial and speculative" theology. The Sisters' Survey of 1966-1967, con-ducted by the CMSW, is presented as playing a key role in "indoc-trinating" sisters about possible new directions for change. The definitive step in the process of "co-opting" and "stealing" the renewal is said to be the "coup" by which the officers of the CMSW altered the nature of their organization by arranging for a revision of its bylaws and changing its name from CMSW to LCWR. At var- July-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis ious points in the process, in Carey's view, the Vatican issued clear mandates to return to a more controlled process of renewal, but these leaders refused to obey. Opposing Perspectives Since Lora Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner were among the leaders of the LCWR during the 1970s and 1980s, it is not sur-prising that their interpretation of the last forty years is diamet-rically the opposite of Carey's. As a result, reading their book, The Transformation of the American Catholic Sister, in conjunction with Sisters in Crisis was both fascinating and unsettling. According to Quifionez and Turner, the changes in women's communities are not the result of a plan devised by a few politically astute activists and then foisted upon an undereducated and unsuspecting mass of sisters. Rather, the transformation of these communities reflects a maturing of American sisters at large; that is, they have grown more conscious of their identity as Americans, as women, and as moral agents? Given this difference in interpretation, it is interesting to note the substantial agreement of these two works on the importance of the Sister Formation movement and especially the LCWR in shap-ing the last forty years of religious life in the United States. Both are clear that the Sisters' Survey went beyond its original purpose of assessing the readiness of American sisters and the availability of resources for the renewal mandated by Vatican II. Both con-clude that the survey itself affected that renewal. And both main-tain that underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. As Carey describes it, "some women religious determined that their own 'lived experience' was more valid for defining religious life than were any of the direc-fives coming from the church" (Crisis, 75). Quifionez and Turner not only agree; they chart the emergence of that beliefi "Sisters began to notice that even long-held and never-to-be-challenged philosophical and theological premises lent themselves to the pur-poseful sounding of experience, personal and social. Experience possessed its own authority" (Transformation, 38). More significant still is the fact that neither work acknowl-edges the possibility that those whose perspective on renewal is different could contribute something toward a more profound renewal. This is more apparent in Sisters in Crisis. Although Carey Revie~v for Religious admits that at times ignorance may have played a role in the deci-sions that were made, for the most part she attributes baser motives to the main actors: "Some religious institutes purposely expanded the years between general chapters so that experiments could be stretched out. Others purposely incorporated items into their con-stitutions that they knew would never be approved by Rome so they could continue experimenting endlessly" (Crisis, 38-39). Quifionez and Turner are far more nuanced in their expression, and they do not impute motivation to such groups as the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, which consisted largely of community leaders who had renounced membership in the LCWR. However, the absence of any critique of actions taken by the LCWR makes the reader suspect that their account may not be as objective as it first appears. This becomes particularly evi-dent in the concluding chapter of Tran~Corrnation, where Quifionez and Turner list questions to be resolved if religious communities of women are to have a future in the United States. They accurately iden-tify one of the key questions: Is it helpful or even honest to retain canonical status? But they proceed to a further series of questions, all of which imply that the only possible answer to the question of canonical status is no. Moreover, in noting that the hierarchy and the sisters must face the questions honestly, they assert that such a process "will exact a different price from each of them. For the hierarchy it will mean giving up dominative ways of governing; for sisters it will entail laying claim to rightful uses of power. For both, it will involve owning that they are peers, no matter how distinct their role in the church" (Transformation, 167). Tran~orrnation offers ample evidence of "dominative ways of governing" by members of the hierarchy, and even Carey admits that the church officials have been "obstinate" at times. These few words seem to imply that only the hierarchy has misused power and that sisters' only sin has been the failure to use it. This would surely be an oversimplification, of a sort that would tend to polarize further those who disagree about the direction the changes have taken. Underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. July-Auffust 2000 S#ters in Crisis was published five years after Transformation and appears to be intended in part as a response to that work, a sort of revisionist history. While Quifionez and Turner did not have the opportunity to respond to Carey's assertions directly, the current leadership of the LCWR responded by claiming that the women in American religious, communities today are not "sisters in crisis," but rather "sisters in service."s There is truth in this assertion. Many of those castigated by Carey really are performing service of inestimable value, and for them to focus more on that service than on institutional survival does not call for the word "tragic" in Carey's subtitle. But that is not to say that I think there is no ~ri-sis. 6 It has been common in recent years to refer to the two Chinese characters that together convey the meaning of crisis, one referring to danger and the other to opportunity. Carey is right: there is a real danger that women's religious communities as we have known them in the United States will become extinct. But the LCWR leadership is also right in noting that the service which women's communities offer indicates a time of great poten-tial. Here I offer some reflections on how the opportunity pre-sent in this moment of crisis may be recognized and embraced. A Window of Opportunity The story is told of two men seated in the same room in a library. One was very hot and opened the room's only window. The other, afraid that his papers would blow all over, immediately closed, it, only to have it reopened by the first. The reaction of the other can be guessed. When the librarian saw the brewing conflict, she went into the next room and opened the window there, thus providing cool air without creating a disruptive, breeze.7 It seems to me that those who find themselves in deadlock on how women's communities have come to be where they are need to discover another window through which to view the last three decades. For this they may well be helped by James Fowle~:'s the-ory of faith development. For Fowler faith is a verb; it is how a per-son makes meaning of the world. We tend to "faith" in a particular way until that way of making meaning no longer works for us and compels us to make meaning differently; this he describes as a new "stage" of faith.8 During adolescence, for example, many peo-ple begin to base their faith on that of the significant people in their lives. They may have reflected deeply on what they believe Review for Religious and can probably describe the content of their faith, but it is largely tacit. Later the demands of adult life, particularly in a culture no longer homogeneous, often move people toward Individuative- Reflexive faith. Those in this stage can articulate the reasons for their faith. In addition, the source of authority for their faith has moved inward, so that they believe because they have chosen to believe. Even if the content.of their faith remains the same, it has become their own.9 Fowler notes that, as a result of midlife stocktaking, some adults experience yet another transition, to what he calls Conjunctive faith, in which they can peacefully hold their own belief while truly listening to another whose belief is different. No longer do they perceive difference as an attack on their hard-won faith that must be defended at all costs. Rather, the other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief. Such faith is not possible until one has fully moved to the Individuative-Reflexive stage by both internalizing authority and making one's belief explicit. (Otherwise what appears a willingness to allow one's own faith to be influenced by others may simply be a form of the tacit faith that allows others to define what. one believes.) The fruit of Conjunctive faith is real dialogue, which begins with the belief that each one comes to the table with a perspective on the truth and includes the humble acknowledgment ~hat each has in some way failed to serve that truth. Fowler's theory has been applied to the "faithing" process of groups as well as individuals. Of course, not all members of the group are at the same stage at any given time. But the theory can be helpful in describing a group's changing "corporate culture." In the years before the Second Vatican Council, for example, when sisters lived in an environment that exemplified one and the same faith perspective, many were able to make meaning of their world through the tacit faith that the environment supported. As Quifionez and Turner describe that time, "canonical definitions, legislated by church authorities, gave 'religious life' its existence, its legitimacy, and its value" (Transformation, 36). In asking women's communities to return to their sources and to read the signs of The other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief 3%dy-dugust 2000 Foley * Another I4andow on the Crisis the times, the council caused them to become more analytical. At the same time, both the changes sisters began to make and the movements in the church and in society around them weakened many of the structures which had reinforced their commitment, so that those who remained were forced to acquire personal reasons for doing so. The movement between external and internalized authority is well illustrated by the responses which the members of LCWR gave to actual and proposed canons of church law in 1968 and 1977. Quifionez and Turner note that these responses differed, not in content, but in the way they were justified: "While in the 1960s sisters invoked Vatican Council II to legitimate their view-points, in 1977 they relied on the authority of their own experience to ground their critique" (Transformation, 56). This suggests that Carey is mistaken in assuming that most changes were the result of a few very influential leaders imposing on the rest their way of seeing the world. That may have been true for some, but, by illus-trating the extent to which "change-oriented" sisters began to appeal to. personal experience, Carey herself provides evidence that in general these women had come to a personally appropri-ated faith?° In my view, profound as this kind of faith may be, it is limited by the tendency to exalt one's internal authority to the extent of being unable to allow one's belief system to be affected by oth-ers. This can make it almost impossible to move together as a group. At a chapter several years ago, it was proposed that the community as a group fast and abstain on Fridays as a sign of their hunger for peace. One person objected vehemently, not to the action in itself, but to committing the whole group to any practice. Her memory of practices imposed in the past seemed to make it impossible for her to accept such a limitation on individual free-dom, even when that limitation was chosen. I believe that the future of religious communities depends on their moving beyond such a stance toward the deeper openness that constitutes what Fowler calls Conjunctive faith. Over the years, many "change-oriented" sisters have looked at and tried on elements of what Carey calls "the latest theological, sociological, psychological--and eventually New Age--fads" (Crisis, 138). She condemns both this and what she considers an excessive tolerance for the views of everyone. It seems to me, how-ever, that for many sisters the opportunity presented by the pre- Review for Religious sent moment is the call to a still greater openness, by which they can allow themselves to truly listen, on the one hand, to new alter-natives and, on the other, to those who question their new ways of understanding and living. Carey does not provide evidence to sup-port her accusation that "change-oriented" communities have deliberately silenced their more traditional members, and yet I believe that in some cases the voices of these sisters have not been heard, or their views have been dismissed as reactionary, irrational, foolish. Any honest dialogue would have to begin with everyone admitting some failure to listen. Openness to dialogue is possible, though certainly most dif-ficult, when the other is not similarly open. Carey speaks of "dia-logue" as if it is often used like a ploy in a game,11 and her position throughout Sisters in Crisis suggests an unwillingness to concede that "change-oriented" sisters could possess a piece of the truth. That, however, does not free the latter from the need to continue discerning where the critique offered by more traditional sisters has its own truth that deserves to be faithfully responded to. Opening a different window on the future requires humble dialogue around many of the issues raised by Carey, among which are the mission and vowed life of sisters, their place in the church, and the impli-cations of "refounding" religious communities. Mission Even though she acknowledges that justice has played an important role in sisters' traditional apostolates, Carey maintains that "change-oriented" sisters have recently replaced their true, "spiritual" mission with social justice as "a new primary mission" (Crisis, 112). For example, she criticizes the choice of nonviolence as the theme of the 1996 LCWR conference, claiming that this reveals "the conference's continuing priority bf placing sociopo-litical issues ahead of spiritual issues" (Crisis, 242). In this.discus-sion she comes close to what Quifionez and Turner describe as the worldview of sisters before 1960, for whom the sacred and the secular occupy two different spheres. The coauthors contend that since then many sisters have moved beyond such a view and "increasingly frame the meaning of their life in terms of the church's evangelizing mission" (Transformation, 59). The bishops at the 1971 synod called "action on behalf of justice., a consti-tutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel."12 In light of that July-./tugust 2000 Foley ¯ ~lnotber Windo~ on the ~ teaching, Carey's apparently outdated perspective seems to have nothing to offer the women about whom Quifionez and Turner write. Indeed, seeing spirituality as somehow pitted against jus-tice is not helpful. This aspect of Carey's position, however, masks an important criticism that "change-oriented" sisters would do well to recognize. Quifionez and Turner state that dedication to mission has comd to encompass the meaning of many sisters' lives. They cite a "grow-ing tendency . to define religious identity as witness against cultural values and attitudes" and assert further that "work and identity are inseparably related" (Transformation, 79 and. 39). In my view, this comes perilously close to insisting not only that my work is my prayer, but that it is my life. This is indeed what our culture often proposes; I consider.it an area where sisters are called to take a countercultural stance. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice or any other important value. Carey's articulation of the mission of sisters in apostolic com-munities is not satisfactory, but neither is that of Quifionez and Turner. Hence the need for dialogue around what Carey would call the "spiritual" .mission of sisters. Such dialogue could very well occur in the context of the vowed life. Vows Carey claims that many elderly sisters who disapprove of the directions in which their congregations have moved "take very seriously the vows they made, and they are not only disturbed that religious life has been fundamentally restructured in their own communities, but even more alarmed that in the restructured model it is difficult, if not impossible, for them to live out the vows they made to God" (Crisis, 306). Nowhere does Sisters in Crisis explain how the restructuring of communities could make it "impossible for them to live out the vows." Perhaps these sisters believe that, for them to fulfill the demands of obedience and poverty, there must be specific persons designated as superiors who give commands and permissions. If so, a system in which decisions about ministry and the use of goods are made commu-nally may never provide what they are demanding. As has already been noted, Quifionez and Turner maintain Review for Religious that the defining element of many sisters' lives is no longer the vows, but rather witness. This suggests that for these women the concerns of the sisters whose perspective Carey shares are irrel-evant. And yet Quifionez and Turner also say, "For a large num-ber of the women, their shared life has to be linked to ultimacy, to the values of the gospel, to the deepest insights of religious tra-ditions" (Transformation, 166). Just how their lives can be "linked to ultimacy" is an ongoing question that must be addressed if there is to be a future for women's communities. It seems to me that addressing it will be difficult as long as the expression is as vague as that given here. I suspect that the word God is omitted because of the desire to be inclusive. To be sure, speaking of God is dangerous, and moreover help on the journey toward God can come from various traditions, including those that do not name God. But one must begin a journey from some point. Sandra Schneiders has pointed out the danger when communities that consider themselves religious have highly indi-vidualized, and eclectic spiritualities unconnected to the Christian tradition in which the communities are rooted. For such groups, she suggests, "the quiet sidelining of Christian .identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation." 13 Over the centuries Christian women and men have sought to link their lives to ultimate, reality, which they have named God, by means of the vows. They have done this not only and, in my view, not primarily as a witness to others, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to them-selves, they structure their lives around their relationship to God.14 Certainly there is need to reconceive and even reformu-late what is meant by the vows,15 but this must be done with recognition of their connection to the divine and hence of their significance beyond that of any actions .they imply. Vows of this kind must indeed be taken seriously. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice. July-duffust 2000 Foley * Another Window on the Crisis Church Quifionez and Turner say, "Central to their quest for mean-ing, we believe, is the identity of sisters as church women" (Transeormation, 166). But, as Eucharia Malone RSM pointed out as early as 1970, "this relationship with the.church seems to be the point on which we are divided" (see Crisis, 95). In fact, the very definition of church is often at the heart of the polarization within and between women's communities. At first glance it is difficult to imagine a rapprochement between the understandings of church espoused by Carey and by Quifionez and Turner. Sisters in Crisis assumes a church in which the initiative comes from the hierarchy. As a result, Carey implies that sisters' meetings held in 1964-1965 to discuss strategies for renewal were subversive because Perfectae caritatis had not yet been promulgated formally)6 What could she have to say to those for whom church is a discipleship of equals, each of whom is responsible for initiating change? Many traditional as well as "change-oriented" groups have claimed to be following the teachings of Vatican II in their very different approaches to renewal. But the council documents them-selves represent compromises between bishops of various per-spectives. They are often ambiguous concerning the church and hence concerning the role of women's communities within the church. The situation is not unlike what followed in the wake of the last reforming council, the Council of Trent. Like Vatican II, Trent carried its own contradictions within itself,, including both a call for widespread education and an insistence on cloister for women ready to dedicate themselves to the education of young women. The conflicts, that resulted were virtually inevitable. Indeed, the experience of the post-Tridentine church calls into question any notion of reform as neat or uniform in application. In general, Carey fails to place the events she narrates within a larger historical context. She takes the American experience of religious life in the first half of.this century as normative and con-sequendy disparages many of the changes that have occurred since then. Research into the foundations of many communities before this century has revealed considerable struggle, especially with members of the hierarchy, over the very issues of ministry and conformity to monastic lifestyle that so concern Carey?7 Her lack of attention to the history of women's communities appears to be related to her sympathy with the representatives of the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, who wanted discussion with LCWR officials Review for Religious to focus on "absolute truths that would transcend., any age, any period of time, any period of history" (Crisis, 283). Quifionez and Turner, on the other hand, are well aware of the various forms in which what is called "religious life" has mani-fested itself over the centuries, accurately noting that it is always a "historically conditioned" phenomenon.~s They are less attentive, however, to the values sought by sizable numbers of contemporary women and their foremother~. For genuine dialogue to take place, it might be necessary to declare a moratorium on valuing things either as "absolute" or as "historically conditioned." It could go far toward healing not only some of the divisions in women's com-munities, but also some of the woundedness of the larger church. Refounding In her concluding chapter Carey addresses herself to tradi-tional sisters who find themselves in communities that have moved away from what she considers the essence of religious life. She believes that such women may be called to "refound" their com-munities, and so offers a number of recommendations for how that might take place: "This refounding must be accomplished by the sisters within those institutes themselves, for refounding of religious orders cannot be mandated or directed by hierarchy, clergy, or laity, though legitimate refounding efforts should be supported by these other groups of people. In the refounding pro-cess, some members of a religious institute may come to the real-ization that their concept of consecrated life really does not fit the church understanding of a religious institute, and so those women may wish to pursue one of the other forms of consecrated life defined by the church" (Crisis, 328). Carey does not clarify why refounding a community "cannot be mandated or directed by the hierarchy" even though that is precisely what she believes its role should have been during the postconciliar renewal. Equally surprising is the open-ended pro-cess she describes, which it cannot be assumed will conform to the standard definition of a religious institute. Of course she assumes that, if what emerges does not fit that definition, the alter-native is another already defined form. In contrast, Vita consecrata, among other documents, assumes that forms not yet defined are also emerging at the present time.19 . In these comments Carey sketches out, no doubt unwittingly, j~uly-/lugust 2000 Fole~ ¯ Another l~ndow on the Crisis what many perceive to have been going on during all these years since the council: initiatives taken by those within the commu-nity, support for those initiatives from (some) other constituencies in the church, and ~n honest confrontation of the questions that traditional understandings of religious life bring to the fore. The element that Carey believes was missing in so many attempts at renewal is "legitimacy," which she understands to be close con-fortuity to the document "Essential Elements of Religious Life," issued by the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1983. Many "change-oriented" sisters and commu-nities consider that sense of legitimacy overly narrow, but in so doing they seem often to have acted as if all changes were equally legitimate. I believe that Carey and others have rightly criticized processes of experimentation that lacked mechanisms of evalua-tion. 2° Many are not fully satisfied with what has emerged in the. course of renewal, but are not sure how to name what is missing. Carey comments sharply on the failure of "change-oriented" communities to attract many new members. In her view, there are only two possible reasons for this, "unselfishness or pathological denial" of the imminent demise of their congregations, and she is quite sure that the latter interpretation is the accurate one. I think' these are false alternatives, though both no doubt play a role at times. A more significant factor in the decline in the number of women joining these communities seems to be a feeling of ambivalence, both among members of women's communities and in the church at large, ambivalence which results in part from massive change without evil-uation and consequently without general ownership. Carey, along with ~¢arious church officials, has declared the period of experimentation for women's communities to be over. But her proposal for refoundation suggests that a new, more pro-found kind of experimentation is just what is called for. The women who are coming to communities these days, particularly those young enough not to have lived through the years immedi-ately following the council, do not share the ambivalence of their older sisters. No doubt it is they who will lead the way in the founding and refounding still to come. Neither/Nor, Looking Anew, Nuancing In my opinion, the renewal of women's communities in the Catholic Church over the past forty years was not "co-opted" or Review for Religious "stolen" by their leaders, but neither has it been fully accom-plished. It is a work in progress, and in that work there has been considerable polarization between different approaches, and mutual recrimination as well. The challenge at this time may be to move beyond present viewpoints, to look through some other window onto those same issues and see a fuller truth. Those who wish to find such a window would do well to heed what Carey has written. Certainly Sisters in Crisis is flawed in its use of sources. Many are cited out of context, they are often listed without explanation or analysis, and generalizations are made on the basis of undisclosed and apparently meager evidence. But Carey's effort to speak in the nameof sisters whose views may have been ignored in the process of renewal provides a significant resource for those who are willing to look and listen. What has been said here about renewal within women's com-munities is true of the renewal of the whole church; in many ways it holds true as well for liberation movements within North America and across the planet. It is often asserted that communi-ties of men and women are called to take a prophetic stance. In my view, such an assertion requires careful nuancing. But, if sisters who represent different perspectives can learn to engage in gen-uine dialogue about their recent history and possible future direc-tions, I believe that could be prophetic indeed, not only for the church, but for all of humanity. Notes i Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, °1997). 2 The focus of my work is women's communities, and the sources for the present reflection deal specifically with women in the United States. Other groups, too, may find what I say relevant. 3 These are not my preferred terms, but since Carey uses them I will follow her lead. 4 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Tranyformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). s "Book rebukes renewal; nuns rebuke book," National Catholic Reporter, 23 May 1997, p. 6. 6 Former LCWR president Doris Gottemoeller RSM agrees, but she believes that Carey has not named the crisis adequately. See "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins, 25 February 1999, pp. 634-638. ~uly-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis 7 One modern source for the story is Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton, Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement without Giving In, 2nd ed. (New York: Penguin Books, 1991), p. 40. Walter Wink suggests that finding a third alternative in a situation that has reached an impasse is a gospel imperative. See his Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992). s Fowler suggests that the pattern of stages he describes remains valid regardless of the content of one's faith. It is rather a factor of one's cognitive and moral development,.although the circumstances in which one finds oneself tend to propel one toward a new stage. His theory is quite pragmatic: no stage is better than another; it simply may be more adequate to the realities one has to confront. 9 Note that one of these elements can be present without the other. Persons with an analytical bent can ana!yze the content of a faith that is not personally appropriated. Similarly, persons who tend to be inde-pendent may formally reject the faith of significant others before being able to give a reason for their own belief, other than the fact that it is their own. 10 This is not to say that more traditional communities have not made the same transition. I simply do not have enough evidence to make such a judgment. II She maintains that, when their constitutions were not approved, "many institutes simply played the game of prolonged 'dialogue' with Rome, hoping to win approval for practices that already had been in effect for years" (Crisis, 314). 12 Justice in the World, §6. 13 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era," Review for Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 26. ~4 I am indebted to Edward Vacek SJ in "Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God," Review for Religious 57, no. 2 (March-April 1998): 118-137, for his description of the vows as'structuring one's life around the relationship to God. ~s Barbara Fiand SND has articulated a theology of the vows in keep-ing with an e~;olutionary, nondualistic worldview. See her Living the I~uion: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 16 See Crisis, pp. 110-111. 17 HWR News and Notes, published by the Conference on History of Women Religious (ed. Karen M. Kennelly csJ; Mount St. Mary's College; 12001 Chalon Road; Los Angeles, California 90049), tracks current scholarship in this area, much of which is presented at that orga-nization's triennial conferences. Both the enormous variety of expressions and the common themes Review for Religious manifest in that variety are very evident in Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). ,9 See ~ta consecrata, Origins 25, no. 41 (4 April 1996); also in The Church and Consecrated Life (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1996), pp. 323-436; see esp. §§12 and 62. The latter section is explicit about the pos-sibility that new forms emerging today may come to be approved offi-cially at a later time. 20 For example, Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis" (see note 6), p. 635. At the LCWR assembly in August 1999, there were a number of calls for evaluation of the processes of renewal. Musings of the Prodigal's Brother Look at him! The life of the party. Music, fatted calf, ring- all to celebrate my brother's return from a wasted life. Squandered inheritance, prostitutes, and hunger shared with swine. Look at my lathe!! Joy-filled, radiant, his long-awaited prodigal is home. Unconditional, all-forgiving love Lighting up the room with warmth and joy, my father - our father - now at peace. Look at me! Lonely, jealous, bitter. The son who did not squander - but gave my father only loyal, total service, What's this? My envy giving way? My inner blindness praying, "Lord, that I may see"? Maria Corona Crumback IHM ffuly-August 2000 BERNADINE PIEPER A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence T~ay, thirty-five years after Vatican Council II, many people nk that the changes in religious life arose spontaneously, somewhat like Athena springing from the forehead of Zeus. In fact, the changes took place because of intense preparation. That preparation happened in the contexts of the general culture and the individual religious communities. My community, the Congregation of the Humility of Mary, was a small congregation of approximately 430 members, and so most sisters knew one another. The sisters came from a variety of ancestral ndtionalities: Irish, German, Czech, Italian, Mexican, and others. Many of the sisters had rural backgrounds, had the experience of living with Protestants as well as Catholics, and had attended both public and Catholic schools at all levels including university. The congregation had moved from France to Pennsylvania to Missouri to Iowa and had experienced losing the motherhouse in Ottumwa, Iowa, in a 1957 fire. They were pio-neers, risk takers. Further, a remarkable group of women made up the leadership of the Congregation of the Humility of Mary from 1960 to 1966. In November 1964 the general superior, Mother Mary Nicholas, and the general council called for a congregation-wide Bernadine Pieper CHM was elected general superior of her congre-gation in 1966, shortly after Vatican Council ii. She writes from her experience of the past forty years. Her address is Humility of Mary Center; 820 West Central Park Avenue; Davenport, Iowa 52804. Review for Religious vote on a revision of the delegate selection process for the 1966 general chapter of affairs. That same month she and the council ¯ asked every convent to discuss renewal of religious life with spe-cial applications to our congregation. Background material sent for the study included Vatican II's Constitution on the Liturgy, chapters 5 and 6 of the Constitution on the Church, Pope Paul's discourse of 23 May 1964 to all religious, the original 1858 rules and regulations of the Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and Father Bernard H~iring's Christian Renewal in a Changing World. The sis-ters were also asked to study related sections of Scrip~re. The virtues listed in our original constitutions were to be studied along with the congregation's apostolate. The sisters were asked whether " we were meeting the spiritual and religious needs of the people of our time in the localities where we were working. This was a time of excitement and ferment. Discussion of these topics provided an opportunity for departure from the rather superficial conversation typical of specified recreation times. A 22 February 1965 letter from Mother Mary Nicholas states that the objective of our study was profound renewal inspired.by bib-lical, liturgical, and apostolic documents of Vatican II and by wis-dom from the congregation's experience. She said some changes would be decided by the congregation itself while others must await legislation expected in the future. "We realize that renewal of religious life will not be easy," she said. From each of four geo-graphical areas (east Iowa and Illinois, midwest Iowa, southeast Iowa, and the west), she and the general council appointed the following committees: liturgy, common life and discipline, poverty, obedience, works and apostolate, and formation and maturity. Committee members included every sister in the community. After a year of discussion, each of these committees sent a posi-tion paper, including reports and recommendations, for study by the congregation. From October 1965 to May 1966, sisters prepared proposals to present to the 1966 chapter of affairs. A total of 545 proposals on a variety of topics were prepared by the sisters, both by indi-viduals and by committees and groups. The recommendations included practically every facet of the sisters' lives and customs: elections, prayer, charity, social work, spiritual renewal, revision of rule and directory, companionship, cloister, letter writing, use of gifts, permissions, and other more mundane items such as swim-ming, ceremonies, appointments, and speeds at which to drive. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ ~t Path of Humility and Truth There were few proposals about chastity and friendship, pos-sibly due to the fact that no study group was assigned to this topic. During the previous fifty years, obedience had assumed priority for religious life. Three sisters were appointed to organize the pro-posals for presentation to th6 chapter of affairs in a logical way. After attending a workshop for religious superiors at the University of Notre Dame, the local superiors of the congregation met in the summer of 1965 to look at common life. They recom-mended a variety of changes to Mother Superior and the council. Among the changes approved were: talking at breakfast, walking outdoors after 6 p.m., eating with guests, retiring early, noncen-sorship of mail, elimination of the chapter of faults, yearly general permissions, and going without a companion to medical appoint-ments. Previously three other sisters were involved when one went to the doctor: one as her companion at the doctor's and two oth-ers to drive them there and pick them up again. In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. A workshop on guidelines for renewal was held in spring 1966 with the cooperation of the Canon Law Society of America and the approval Of Davenport Bishop Ralph L. Hayes. The speakers were Father Paul M. Boyle CP, past president of the Canon Law Society of America; Father Kevin O'Rourke OP, coauthor of Canon Law for Religious Women; Sister Jane Marie Richardson SL, secretary of Sister Mary Luke Tobin SL, auditor at Vatican II; Sister Ignace RSM, province councilor of the Mercy Sisters' Chicago Province; and Sister Maristella (Elizabeth) Picken CHM, member of the Marycrest College religion department. Davenport sisters had also traveled to Aurora, Illinois, that spring for a speech by Sister Mary Luke Tobin. The membership for the 1966 chapter of affairs was entirely different from that of earlier chapters, which had been composed of almost as many superiors as nonsuperiors. Besides the seven ex-officio members--major .superior, council, former major superi-ors, secretary, and treasurer--seven superiors were elected from among 38, nine sisters from among 88 more than 50 years old, ten sisters from among 90 between 35 and 50 years of age, and four from among the 80 sisters under 35. All these sisters had per-petual vows. Sisters with temporary vows had only active voice. During the chapter the delegates voted to abolish all secrecy. Chapter delegates represented a wide variety of sisters. There was for Rdigious a wide spectrum of emotion--fear and impatience on the one hand, hope and excitement on the other. Everyone, however, cared for the congregation and worked hard to follow the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Relaxation of discipline and introduction of the breviary were not the only changes which took place before the 1966 chapter of affairs. The number of entrants into the congregation had already declined before 1966. The largest number of persons to enter the congregation came in 1959 and 1960:27 and 32 respec-tively. In 1965 only six women entered, and in the spring of 1966 only four had been accepted for entrance. Sisters were aware of and inter-ested in civil rights. Though no one went to Selma or other places in the South for demonstrations, they were deeply concerned and prayed particularly when Medgar Evers was killed. They also began to help with local problems. For example, some numbers went sandbagging along the Mississippi in Davenport during the 1965 flood. They tried to do this quietly; when a picture of the sisters appeared in the daily paper, not everyone in the CHM community was happy. Probably attitudinal changes were the most important. In the 1960s the culture implied that one was incomplete without a sex-ual partner. Vatican II taught that perfection was obtainable not just by sisters in community, but also by married persons. At Marycrest College, where over one-fourth of the CHM community studied during the summer, creative and critical thinking was a college goal. Sisters began to recognize that they were thinking creatively .and critically about everything exc.ept their own lives. They became aware that they had been founded as an apostolic community and were neither cloistered nor monastic, but had been trying to live as if they were. At the chapter of affairs, on 27 June 1966, I was elected the general superior. My experience as a superior was limited to sev-eral summers for the sisters who were students at Marycrest College. I had, however, taught a majority of members of the con-gregation. This was my first chapter of affairs. M6ther Mary In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth Nicholas Sheetz, who might have provided me some guidance, died in October 1966. Mother Mary Magdalen Wilmes, another potential source of information, asked to move to Phoenix. "You can make your own mistakes," she said. I retained the designation "Sister" and took the title president instead of mother superior, as have those who succeeded me. When Father Paul Boyle CP spoke at Marycrest College in April 1966, he assured the members of the committee which orga-nized the proposals that he would be happy to help at the chapter. He came to Ottumwa from Monroe, Michigan, and was invaluable in distinguishing among aspects of church law, community law, customs, and culture. He advised us tobegin with a discussion on prayer because that was the most important topic and further-more was likely to be less controversial than the others. After considerable discussion and revision at the regular June session and a short one in December 1966, about sixty motions were approved by the delegates, either unanimously or at least 10 to 1 in favor. Mass, lauds, vespers, and an annual retreat were the only requirements regarding prayer. However, the value of prayer was endorsed, and continuing past practices was recommended. In the area of poverty, the sisters were asked to be as poor as they wished and to provide community witness to poverty by sharing things. Minor finances were to be a subject for experimentation. Each sister was to be given $15 a month for clothes and personal needs, while housing, .meals, and travel were to be provided by the local house. One sister commented that her girdle alone cost $13. Investigating congregational health insurance was approved. Home visits, travel without companions, retention of baptismal names for those who so wished, eating with persons other than commu-nity members, and letters and phone calls without censorship were approved. Broadening our apostolic works was recommended, with particular emphasis on Latin America. The value of long-range planning was noted. The following commissions were described and set up in great detaili (1) the coordinating commission on apostolic works, with subcommittees in the various areas of work; (2) rule and directory revision; (3) formation and religious renewal; (4) finance and development; and (5) habit revision. The sisters were asked to participate in annual meetings of the whole con-gregation. No time limit for experimenting was set because Pe, rfectae caritatis allowed twelve years. Review for Religious In the letter I wrote to the congregation accompanying the record of the June 1966 chapter, I said: "Many of you have prob-ably read Michael Novak's 'The New Nun' in the July Post, in which he says, 'Press reports emphasize the shortened skirts, the briefer veils, the appearance of nuns on public beaches, but these are misleading superficial aspects of a deep-running revolution. In ever increasing numbers the sisters are creating new rules to define what tasks they may or may not tackle, what styles of life they may or may not adopt.'" Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. The original intent was to design and adopt a simple costume with a modified veil. The process, however, led to diversity. Sisters sent requests to the coordinating commission on habit revision, with the final decision to be made by the general superior and council. At first the sisters were expected to wear a veil and white, gray, black, brown, or blue clothing. Many sisters quickly adapted to the change, Next came . requests and permission to wear red and green and finally flowered blouses. Just before the 1967 summer school, the gen-eral council decided to allow sisters to go without veils, having noticed that sisters in some communities who were still asked to wear the traditional habit were surreptitiously wearing street clothes when they were ¯ away from the convent. We felt that honesty was the better policy. At first clothes were usually made out of habits and cloaks and often were ill fitting and not very well designed. Generally sisters wore blouses, skirts, and suits. Some sisters reverted to the hairstyles of their teen years; some bought wigs. Fairly soon, though, the sisters emerged as attractive women rather than neuter icons, and sometimes this incited the envy of other women. For example, one sister found a suitable coat with a small fur collar in the poor box for the parish. She was criti-cized by some parishioners as being too extravagant in clothes. The change to contemporary clothes, the sisters thought, necessitated some means for identification. For a while each sis-ter had a name tag; then we adopted a design for a medal. It is still being used. Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. July-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth This was a time of energetic hope and gloomy predictions as well. One priest "expert" predicted that within five years the con-gregation would be extinct. Before 1966 the vow of poverty implied permission for the use of material things. After the 1966 chapter, the meaning of being po.or as one wished and sharing material things was open to interpretation. General congregational'needs included care of retired sisters, administration, and the retirement of a debt on the motherhouse. Up to this time, each house had sent as much as possible to the motherhouse. In fact, sometimes superiors vied with one other to see how much could be sent, even at the expense of local needs. As sisters began to live outside established con-vents, the question arose about ensuring a balance of individual and congregational needs. Since CHM local houses had sent to the congregational fund the amount each determined, it seemed logical to continue this process. Hence, each sister was asked to deduct from her income what was needed for her individual or house costs and send the rest to the motherhouse. Little by little most of the sisters began to contribute as much as they could to the congregation's fund. Diocesan stipends were entirely too low. In the Des Moines Diocese the stipend set for each sister was $50-$100 monthly. In the city of Des Moines, all except one parish paid $50 per month per sister. I had to go to bishops and pastors to ask for an increase in the stipend. Frequently I was told that, if the sisters went back to their habits, they could get along on $50 a month! I prepared and distributed a budget so that the sisters could be informed about real congregational needs. Funds for retreats and education were budgeted. A study was made of average expenses for an indi-vidual. Many sisters responded favorably when they were informed about the needs, both for the congregation itself and for works to assist the poor. To free active sisters from increasing costs for sisters already in retirement, we enrolled in the social security program in 1972 when it became available for sisters. Using unclaimed interest on patrimony, we set up the CHM retirement trust in 1976. Until the summer of 1966, health expenses were cared for gratis by several related hospitals. One of these began charging the sisters for services. Then we initiated a health-insurance plan. Each sister in the congregation was asked to have an annual phys-ical examination. Revie~ for Religio~ The commission on rule revision met almost immediately after the 1966 chapter. Unable to decide what to call the first product of their efforts, it settled on "Spirit and Goals" until a better name could be found. After considerable discussion a state-ment of about a page and a half was sent to all the sisters for study and recommendation. After several revisions, a statement of spirit and goals was approved by a vote of the sisters in August 1968. The statement began, "We Sisters of the Humility of Mary are a group of women in the Catholic Church who have banded together to dedicate ourselves through a special common effort to the pur-suit of life's essential meaning and to a radical response to the Christian gospel of universal love." The Spirit and Goals document was intended as a basic state-ment explaining our spirit and the meaning of religious life for the Sisters of the Humility of Mary. The remainder of the rule was intended to be directives approved by succeeding chapters of affairs. After some years, and after the rules and regulations had been arranged according to topics and divided into Books I and II, the CHM president and I presented the document to the English-speaking committee of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (SCRIS) in Rome in 1982. The committee, finding several sections unacceptable, told us to make mandated changes and resubmit the document. Since the total congregation had already approved the 1982 document, it was necessary that they subsequently vote on SCRIS's mandates. This CHM approval was not forthcoming, so for seven years the congregation followed Books I and II without papal approval. In 1988 a new rule-revision committee attempted to integrate the directives of SCRIS, now called the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) in such a way that our identity would not be compromised. We con-sulted a canon lawyer working in the English-language depart-ment of CICLSAL. Her suggestions included moving as many items as possible to Book II, which did not require canonical approval. The main objection of CICLSAL had been our election process. After numerous revisions we were able to present the document to the CHM general assembly in the summer of 1990. It was approved by the Representative Assembly in that year and sent to Rome requesting the approval date of December 8. We distributed approved copies to the congregation in the summer of 1991. We are still probing self-determination versus community focus. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. By 1968 we were sending openings for available positions to community members. That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. Some felt insecure in having to find their own positions. Sisters who were not good teachers or who had no interest in teaching were able to go to school and train for and find occupations more in keeping with their talents. Justice was adopted as the congregation's priority. More sisters began working directly with the dispossessed, and the congregation supported their efforts. After the recommendation of Pope Paul VI encouraging American religious to go to Latin America, Father Louis Colonnese, director of PAVLA (Papal Volunteers for Latin America), rec-ommended about half a dozen places to the sis-ters. All of these were dioceses where the bishop had a pastoral plan to follow the spirit of Vatican II. Several of us went to visit Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia of the San Crist6bal de las Casas diocese in southern Mexico. He took us over mountains to see places where sisters had been working to show us what had been done and what the pos-sibilities were. We were so impressed that we decided not to look further, but rather to use for the program in Chiapas the money we might have spent on airplane fare to other potential sites. We were urged to send sisters also to Ambato, Ecuador. Four si~ters went to these two missions; two are still in the San Crist6bal diocese. Although the commission on formation devised an extensive plan for formation, very few women applied. Furthermore, a :great many, particularly among those who were in temporary vows, left the congregation. Perhaps they were still in the process of being integrated in the congregation in a pre-Vatican II mode. Of the many reasons for the mass exodus from religious communities, I think a good many were cultural. Quite a few young women said that, if they could be as holy living as married women with chil-dren as they could as celibates in community, there was no reason to remain as sisters. The sexual revolution implied that one could not be a whole person without genital experiences. Some sisters, particularly those working directly with the poor, found that their primary community was one, other than the ClaMs. Some who left were those who had been dissatisfied for years. On the other hand, Review for Religious some were sisters who had worked most diligently and effectively for the changes. Some were unable to identify with a patriarchal church. Without a doubt all of us made mistakes. It might have been better to have informed our public about proposed changes, but we were intent on our internal study. In any case, I doubt if the pub-lic would have approved of the changes if we had asked them beforehand. The Sisters of the Humility of Mary moved some-what faster than other communities at this time of. change. As I watched communities that made the changes later, I used to think that I could be a consultant, telling them what to avoid. However, all of us had to learn from our own mistakes even though many of them were similar. Not everyone was mature enough to take per-sonal responsibility. The changes in discipline, clothes, works, and so on were only the expressions of a hope for the inner renewal of each sister and of the entire congregation. Celibacy in community has replaced obedience as the defining vow for sisters. Since the early 1970s, associates have expanded the search and service aspects of com-munity. Among the sisters, responsibility for private prayer some-times meant temporary abandonment of prayer altogether. Inner renewal is difficult to assess and is known only to God and the sister. Bishops witl~ whom CHMs worked were supportive during this time. One said that he did not understand everything that we did, but trusted us. On one occasion he commented, "I would never presume to tell a woman what to wear." Today we are an older and wiser congregation. The renewal set in motion in the 1960s has, I think, resulted in return to the spirit of our founders and a steady love for God, people, and the universe. Father Richard Hill 'SJ died on 29 January 2000 in the Jesuit infirfna~ at,Los' Gatos,~ Cahfornia: " 'Fathei" ~li ~sed~tor for c~nonical ~ounsel from Janua~ 1985 to July.19~)0. ~ : Let us remember him in burp~ay~ers~ July-August 2000 w. HENRY KEN-NEY Finding God's Willm A Maneuver finding God My title, "Finding God's Will," purposely suggests a prior search. In an age when some prefer to think of God as havin~ no specific will for individuals, but only a general wish for us to use our freedom well, the whole concept of seeking and finding God's will seems out of place. But I do not think it is. The theological assumptions behind searching for and finding God's will are, I believe, not of this age. They have appeared in the spirituality of countless saints, and espe-cially in those who lived in the last four or five hundred years. My large debt to an acknowledged master of search-ing for and finding God's will, St. Ignatius of Loyola, I gladly own. I am also quite indebted to dozens of pray-ers (my preferred term for directees) whom I have accom-panied on many a search and in many a finding. So my basic assumption is: God has a specific will which can be searched for and found--in large, medium, and lesser matters. A very good case, I believe, can be made that this is the prevailing assumption of the Bible and that it shines forth especially in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, along with many scripture scholars, I see Jesus' desert temptations as part W. Henry Kenney SJ, founder of the Bluegrass Spirituality Center in Lexington, Kentucky, is now a free-lance "prayer coach." His address is 153 Barr Street; Lexington, Kentucky 40507. Review for Religious of his search for the Father's will on how to undertake and exer-cise his public ministry. Near the end of his life, we see Jesus in Gethsemane struggling to get beyond his aversion to an igno-minious death ~and coming finally to embrace his Father's will peacefully and courageously. Presuppositions for Fruitful Searching My first presupposition is that searching for and finding God's will is a gift, and God's best gifts most often come in answer to persistent prayer. Hence, the guiding light for a searcher is: Beg, beg, beg. That repeats in short compass the longest teaching of Jesus on prayer: keep on knocking, seeking, begging for God to reveal their (Father, Son, and Spirit) will (Lk 11:1-13). For those who are settled into a significant prayer life, recipients of one of its gifts--a strong desire to know God's will--persistent begging for the revelation of God's will strikes them as quite right. To be given the knowledge of God's will and the courage and joy to do it is perceived by such pray-ers as a most precious gift coming from God's Spirit, the gift. Happy are they who experience their begging turned into receiving--the knowledge and love of God's s, pecific will for them. The second presupposition is that the principal impediment to finding God's will is my own will, often enough so attached to X or so averted from Y that it is very difficult or nearly impossi-ble for Y to be revealed as God's will. Spirituality writers used to call that state "attachment" or "lack of indifference." Currently that state is described as insufficient openness to God's will or lack of spiritual freedom. If I am mildly or strongly attached to getting married or averse to becoming a priest or religious, it is more difficult for me to recognize that God's wisdom and plea-sure are calling me to the priesthood or religious life. When there is very strong aversion or attachment, it is nearly impossi-ble to know and accept God's willing the opposite of our own wills. Let us state this positively. A necessary condition for our finding God's will is our possession of indifference, detachment, real openness to God's will--spiritual freedom. St. Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises (§157) supplies a soul-testing remedy for such "inordinate attachments": When we feel an attachment opposed to X [Ignatius instances actual poverty] . it will be very helpful in order ~ly-.4ug~st 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will to overcome the inordinate attachment, even though cor-rupt na(ure rebel against it, to beg our Lord. to choose us to serve him in X. We should insist that we desire it, we should beg for it, plead for it, provided, of course, that it be for the service and praise of the Divine Goodness. (Puhl translation) With some discomfort I own that I have seldom suggested that a praying person follow §157's recommendation. However, from directing pray-ers (and from my own seeking of God's will) I have happened on to a maneuver that achieves, almost by indirection, what §157 seeks straight on. The third (and, for some, shocking) presupposition is this: God's will is usually revealed not by words or images, but by feel-ings: feelings of peace, of increased or continuing peace (called consolation), or feelings of diminished peace, of distancing (called desolation). Novice pray-ers have usually not had enough prayer and life experience of consolation and desolation for those feel-ings to be without the assistance of a spiritual guide--true instru-ments for revealing God's will to themselves. Conditions for Finding and Choosing God's Will Here are four necessary conditions for finding God's will: The first is spiritual freedom or openness. Being reasonably "at balance" is necessary for being really open to God's alternatives. How cru-cial this is can be seen in Ignatius's Exercises, in the extensive instructions and reflections given to help a praying person come to a reasonable level of spiritual freedom. The second is homework. Suffic-ient investigation of the par-ticulars of the available options (who, what, where, when, for how long, at what cost, and so forth) is absolutely necessary. Some per-sonality types want to rush into choosing before they have done their homework, or done it well enough. Pray-ers will often have discerned, in the first place, whether to commit themselves to an in-depth investigation of the alternatives, that is, the pros and cons of each. The third is kairos. There is a kairos, an appropriate time, for the discerning process. Some times are inappropriate, for example, wanting to know if I should accept a job offer before I am offered the job. That is clearly quite different from discerning on whether I should commit myself to investigate some job possibilities or to Review for Religious make some applications. Further, for those given .to control, there is often the temptation to discern alternatives--to have closure-- long before there is reasonable need for a decision. A help in the searching process is to fix the actual date wl~en a decision is needed. Then the discerner can assign a reasonable number of days for discernment before the due date. The fourth is a discernment companion. If a pray-er is leaning to one alternative and strongly dislikes the other, the aid of a dis-cernment companion is usually essential. The companion can help the praying persons to follow the process correcdy and thereby get beyond their subjectivity. Novice discerners with strong attach-ments are astonishingly adept at fouling up the discernment pro-cess. A person who read this article in manuscript form was dumbfounded to find in it a finger pointing out an inclination to subvert true discernment of a touchy personal decision. Even mature pray-ers, at least in their earlier searchings for God's will, usually have need of human help to discern and interpret patterns of consolation or desolation in response to their continued search-ing for the Lord's will. There would, then, be great risk if non-pray- ers or novice pray-ers attempted such formal discernment without a discernment companion, and even greater risk in the maneuver suggested below. The~, would too likely get into magic, divination, or self-deception. A ManeuvermOne Way of Searching for God's Will Central to the maneuver is repeatedly asking a loaded question of the Lord in the middle of prayer. I call it "popping the ques-tion." Unfortunately, there are several gloriously wrgng ways of popping the question. First is popping an unloaded question, such as, "Lord, do you want me to marry Susie?" That sounds quite sensible. What is so unproductive about this Way of phrasing the question is that it demands a vocal answer: "Yes" or "No." The Lord, however, is not in the habit of giving such answers. Not a few pray-ers continue to be scandalized that the Lord's preferred way of communicating "answers" to us is through our emotions, through consolations and desolations. A second wrong way of popping the question is to pop a ques-tion that is loaded towards the alternative the pray-er wants. This, unsurprisingly, greatly muddies the spiritual waters; self-gener-ated "peace" tends to obscure any subtle message from God. If I j~ly-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will greatly desire quitting my job and I keep asking, ".Lord, you want me to quit my job, don't you?" my strong emotional bias will give me so much'comfort that a contrary response from the Lord will likely be blocked out. Third, pray-ers will often fudge the process by alternately popping questions loaded against and loaded for themselves. Once again, muddied waters will result. A right way to phrase discernment questions is to use a loaded question consistently, a question loaded against my inclination or aversion and thereby loaded in God's favor. For a young or not-so-young woman attached to her single lifestyle, the loaded phras-ing of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" will cause disturbance, negative feelings, the first several times she pops it. These initial affective responses will likely prove untypical of responses later on, but she needs to experience them now. I say this because I have quite often seen sincere discerners surrepti-tiously (without knowing it themselves!) try to bypass such dis-comfort and get approval of the alternative they want either by asking an unloaded question or by unconsciously switching to the loaded question that favors their own present inclination: "Lord, you don't want me to marry Stan, do you?" Pray-ers that "lean" toward a preference of theirs need to be assured more than once that it is just as easy for the Lord to "answer" no to a loaded question as to answeryes. Understandably, many "leaning" pray-ersfeel that the question is too loaded against themselves for the Lord to be able to say no. In phi'asing discern-ment questions, it has gradually and experientially ~ome clear to me that it is much better to formulate the questions positively. For example, if a pray-er pops "Lord, you don't want me accept this job offer, do you?" the negative tends to muddy the process. The right-ness of the positively phrased question, "Lord, you want me to con-tinue in my present job, don't you?" can be sensed by pray-ers who lean toward accepting a new job. They experience more dis-comfort with positive questions than with negative ones. When to pop? I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful, that is, when I am at peace and have some sense of being with the Lord. Never do I ask when I am even a little unpeaceful or lack some real sense of being with the Lord. Praying persons, indeed, are frequently tempted to do this. If they yield, it is like asking the wall and expecting a revela-tory response within themselves as a reaction to the wall's action! Review for Religious When one is consciously with the Lord, whether in formal prayer or at'liturgy or at another time, a question should usually be popped only once. Popping the same question several times in the same ,prayer experience usually comes from a control drive that tends to commandeer the discernment process. How to pop? When I am in the middle of being connected with the Lord, I pop the question, as it were, eyeball to eyeball. Then I wait a short time, seconds. If I wait longer, I am trying to manipulate the Lord or influence my reactions. After popping I need to notice what happened to my con-nectedness and consolation. Did it remain the same? Did it increase? Was it subtly modified? Often pray-ers say "Nothing happened" after they popped the question. My response is "Something always hap-pens!" If my connectedness and peace remain the same, that is a very revealing, though low-key, response. Hence we need to keep a record of our post-popping reactions so that we may discover a pattern. How often to pop? For a small matter, once usually suffices if there has been a clear enough affective response. For larger mat-ters-- a new job, undertaking a volunteer project or pulling back from one--five, ten, or a dozen times usually give a clear picture. Very large questions--marriage, religiou~ life, another child, major change in employment or lifestyle--may need months of discern-ing. What is always being sought is a clear pattern of responses from multiple poppings. Confirmation. When repeated poppings have yielded a pat-tern that tells us we very probably know God's will in a large or very large matter, it is good to supplement the discernment with a further process that may increase and strengthen our careful cer-tainty. Regarding marriage, the confirming question (in full detail, useful for the first popping) could well be "Lord, I think you have revealed to me that you want me to marry Stan. That is your will, isn't it?" Interpreting patterns. If pray-ers' first discernment efforts involve large or very large issues, I usually say nothing beforehand about htw to interpret their experience. Rather, I tell them they should pop the question "about X times," note carefully what hap- I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful. July-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will pens to their state of peace while and after popping, and record the experience of each discernment. At our next meeting we look at and interpret the responses together. The interpretation is very simple: The experience of consola-tion confirms the loaded question, whereas a lesser peacefulness or a diminished sense of being with the Lord negates the loaded ques-tion. In the example "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" the results of the maneuver may be "muddied" by several years of attachment to a single lifestyle. The first few poppings will probably bring feelings of desolation, coming from pain at the thought of possibly losing certain blessings of the single life. But it is the pattern'of consolations or desolations, derived from many spiritual experiences, that reveals whether the alternative is in harmony or not with God's wisdom and love, and with what is deepest in herself as well. It is worth adding that in using the maneuver people may often experience desolation in new ways. They may sense a sud-den loss of contact with the Lord--no more disturbing than the quiet loss of a telephone connection during a conversation. Or they may sense the onset of a "vacuum" feeling, a severe feeling of emptiness, immediately after popping the question. Such feel-ings are often quite subtle, but are clear instances of desolation nonetheless. Sundry Choices Made by Means of the Maneuver Somehow it seems more appropriate to place this section at the end rather than near the beginning. My hope is that it will give some feel for the variety of discernments. I give some instances of choices that go ~ith the chooser's natural preference as well as againstdt. Understandably, I fictionalize to protect confidential-ity, but give enough details to suggest a "feel" for the shape of dis-cerned choices. First, four examples of big choices: a woman in her thirties who had enjoyed an active lifestyle met a man whom she feared God might want her tO marry and thus have her lifestyle signifi-cantly altered. Hers was a long discernment, spread over a num-ber of months, and she gradually became more open to marriage, especially through the use of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" Postwedding life has proved the fittingness of her def-initely not easy choice. There is a greatly loved child, and she Review for Religious found herself saying, "It's clear to me that I'm growing up now." A man in his early forties, increasingly uncomfortable with his military-connected job, sought first to know if God wanted him to give up his job and seek training and employment in some-thing more oriented towards human service. It was difficult to consider giving up a well-paying job without knowing what the next, step would be. His discernment was eased by his having a substantial amount of savings. In his case the discernment of per-haps five or six months gave him the certainty (and courage) to quit his job. This led to discernment about further education and eventually to a people-centered ministry. A young woman, thirty-two, who came with a strong prayer life and dedication to helping the poor, was not charmed when I asked if she had thought about religious life. "I want to get married and have children." "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. In some-thing like a month of using the loaded ques-tion "Lord, you want me to be a religious, don't you?" she came to much more spiritual freedom for either marriage or religious life. She found herself eager to know God's will clearly, whatever it might be. That desire was fulfilled in another month and a half by a definite vocation to a missionary order. A woman in her forties taught'alternativ~ high school (possi-bly a universal euphemism for teaching students less than sixteen and expelled from regular schools). She heard of the possibility of becoming chief financial officer for a large God's Pantry opera-tion; she was both very qualified and very attracted. When, how-ever, she frequently asking loaded questions about whether God wanted her to continue in her present job, she came up with no clear sense of direction. Then, almost immediately after she was actually offered the CFO job, her prayer was filled with clarity that God wanted her to continue teaching "alternatives"--the very drift of her original popped question. Next are two examples of "medium" choices, but I flinch at such labeling because often the consequences are major. Probably the saddest accompanying I have done was with a man in his for-ties who was in a cult-like abusive relationship. In a discernment "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. .~uly-Aug~st 2000 Kenn~y ¯ Findin~ God's W~ll which was long enough and clear enough, the answer was yes to "You want me to give up my relationship with X, don't you?" The sadness is that the relationship continued with great harm to him-self and to his family. Though I tried to persuade him to get coun-seling, the abuser convinced him that that counselors do the work of the devil. A man in his early fifties is a first-rate high school teacher. He got the idea that it would be good to get a Ph.D., but dis-cernment dictated otherwise. He continued happily and effectively teaching for several years. Because he is very gifted, he was asked to do all sorts of things at school, at church, and elsewhere. Before using formal discernment he was seriously fatiguing himself by undertaking too many projects. He began using a discernment notebook. When asked to do something, he noted it, carefully constructed a question for popping, used it in prayer,and logged the '~results." He says. no a lot more now, and notes the absence of fatigue. Out of the blue a department chair at the university asked him to supervise graduate students doing their summertime practice teaching. Not only did his discernment yield a clear "No," but also an unusual pair of words, "You're enough"--exactly what he needed to hear. He has no need for other and ever new achieve-meats to prove and feel his self-worth. Other Ways of Discernment The maneuver suggested here is one good way of seeking and finding God's will. There are many other ways. Experimentation vs. popping. In several areas of our lives where the prayer discernment process proposed here is not appro-priate, experimentation is a privileged way of finding God's will. It can be used for how long to pray, where and when to pray, what type of prayer is best for one's "daily diet," how much sleep, exer-cise, food, and drink to get, and so forth. Experimentation is not trying X one day, Y another, and Z on the third. Rather, it is try-ing one way five to seven times, then trying another way five to seven times, and afterwards reflecting on our experiences, espe-cially on the quality of our lives during the alternative experi-ments. St. Ignatius Loyola observes: "Now since God our Lord knows our [individual] nature infinitely better [than we do], when we make changes of this kind, [God] often grants each one the grace to understand what is suitable for [us]" (SpEx §89). Review for Religious There is another way that God answers sincere prayer--and, here, prayer to know God's will. My sister, her husband afflicted with Alzheimer's, knew they had to move into some form of assisted living because her heart condition was making her ever less able to care for him. She was more inclined to get care eight hours per day rather than 24-hour care--too pricey, she thought. Her earnest prayer that God reveal Their will was strikingly answered. The next two nights her husband had diarrhea and did not know what the toilet was for. Clearly, day care would not suffice. Another way of discernment is, I think, proposed by St. Ignatius, but unfortunately I cannot document this. This way involves offering the Lord different options as one would present different dishes to an honored guest, waiting to see which' he prefers. I mention, too, the experience of a Baptist minister who, faced with significant choices, would open his Bible to random passages and find in them helpful suggestions towards a particular course of action. He would say, "The Scripture came and grasped me." Summing Up First, the maneuver suggested here for finding God's will in larger and medium discernments centers on popping loaded ques-tions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. By examining the patterns, the pray-er comes to suf-ficient certainty (especially if there is a confirmation process) that God's will has been found. This maneuver has been instrumental for scores of pray-ers in finding the peace of certainty about God's will for themselves even, sometimes, in small matters. The out-comes of decisions arrived at in this manner have been uniformly good (with one exception), and pray-ers have continued secure in their discernments, free from attacks by second thoughts. For persons who approached a decision leaning somewhat or strongly to one alternative, an unplanned and unexpected result of using the maneuver is that repeated poppings of a question loaded against their inclinations brought them--gradually, but more rapidly than I had dared hope--to equanimity about, or even real openness, to the unwanted alternative. With only one excep-tion, those who were led to "tough love" decisions were able to embrace them peacefully and live them energetically. Those who were led by the right use of the maneuver to embrace alternatives July-August 2000 L3-77-- Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will in accord with their initial preferences enioyed the special conso-lation, of knowing they had sought and found not merely their own will, but also God's. Magnificat I want to thank with all my heart the unknown man who, this summer, hacked back and burned the briars and unruly gorse which had covered that singing stream between Boolagh Bog and Bockagh Hill. And I will, because now eye can feast on the smooth black tables of rock down which clear brown water tumbles and bubbles and makes white foam. Ear had always heard the choir under the gorse-and-briar canopy. Body had always sat or stood there, soothed by sound. Now eye and ear heart and bone and soul and tumbling stream are humming their Magn~'cat in unison. Bernadette McCarrick RSM Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Mnuch of our United States consumer-society mentality vades our quest for spiritual growth. We snatch up the latest acclaimed spiritual authors. We dash off to the latest popu-lar workshops. We try to take in more and more. The effort is laudable, for there is this hunger within us to know more about God's plan for us and to draw nearer to Jesus. All the restless searching, however, ignores the treasure that lies right at our feet. We look everywhere, but we do not see it. As Meister Eckhart wisely put it, "all people have a vintage wine cellar, but they sel-dom drink from it." What I propose here is a stop to all this chas-ing about and an invitation to look into ourselves at the inner wisdom that is already ours. We have access to it. Where the Treasure Lies Have you .ever noticed how easily we slip into states of total absorption, into trancelike states? I imply nothing "spooky" here. This is simply the way our minds work on certain tasks. In that state of absorption, of inner searching, we step out of time, away from the settings around us. We become so focused on a single idea that no other thought, no other emotion, intrudes. People who use their mind in this way experience vivid imagery and feel overall such bodily responses as muscle tension and sometimes Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB last wrote for us in our January-February 1997 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom heightened blood pressure. Common occurrences: driving right past your own home, not hearing what people say and asking them to repeat, and not noticing that the phone is ringing insis-tently. Sometimes, by single-minded concentration on a prob-lem, we may come up with a "Eureka!" experience and have a solution. Most of the time, however, I suspect we choose this kind of intensive focus when someone's word or action has wounded us, and we retreat inwardly to chew on the bitter rind of our hurt pride. My suggestion here is that the mind's same powerful ability to focus, its intensity and bright-point targeting, can be used voluntarily in prayer--only this time the focus is on the inner wisdom we all possess through the grace of baptism and indeed all the sacraments and through our enriching experiences of striv-ing to be faithful followers of Jesus and reflective readers of the Gospels. In this way of prayer, we ask the Spirit of Jesus to guide and enlighten us. When we Christians go into the center of our minds and hearts, it is the indwelling Spirit who greets us there. There we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. That central core of ourselves is the inner wisdom of which I speak. It is there, and it is available. But let me make a few distinctions. Some Clarifications I am not referring here to centering prayer or at least to what I understand by centering prayer. To quote Father Thomas Keating in his excellent book Open Mind, Open Heart: "A thought in the context of [centering prayer] is any perception that appears on the inner screen of consciousness. This could be an emotion, an image, a memory, a plan, a noise from outside, a feeling of peace, or even a spiritual communication. In other words, anything what-soever that registers on the inner screen of consciousness is a 'thought.' The method consists of letting go. of every thought dur-ing the time of prayer, even the most devout thoughts." ~ What I am referring to here about consulting your inner wisdom probably comes close to what Keating refers to, and dis-misses, as self reflection?. This, Keating says, is to be got over in order to reach pure cont.emplation. My own proposal is a delib-eratefocusing of thought as if one were using a magnifying glass to Review for Religious ' direct the beams of the sun to one spot. Such a tactic could pen-etrate steel. The discipline I propose is not behavior modification. That highly effective psychological tactic involves visioning an unde-sirable behavior of mine, such as becoming angry with the choir habits of a fellow religious, and then seeing myself calmly allow that person to do his or her own thing without my usual emo-tional upset. Consulting our inner wisdom means having in mind a specific goal (more on this later), then cleansing our mind of external dis-tractions by some relaxation exercise, and, in that calm and focused meditative state, inviting the Lord (or some other spiritual counselor) to help us understand and move towards atti-tudes and behaviors more consonant Jesus, unlike ourselves, with the obedient love with which a allowed himself to Christian wants to identify. This differ-entiates consulting our inner wisdom be angry only.when from simple behavior modification because it sees the change in ourselves the Father's honor and as inspired by the example of Jesus and glory were attacked. not simply as a personal social or emo-tional adjustment, helpful though that might be. Take, for instance, the ques-tion of boundaries. We are all aware how careful we are to pro-tect the spiritual frontiers of our Christan, Jesus-inspired integrity. Anger, rooted in pride, is one such protection effort. Jesus, however, unlike ourselves, allowed himself to be angry only when the Father's honor and glory were attacked. See, for example, the cleansing of the temple or the "woes" in Matthew's Gospel. At all other times, personal attacks did not seem to move him emotionally. When we honestly consult our inner wisdom, we may note boundaries of ours that we fail to protect enough. We may fail to caution ourselves regarding the sight or memory of a sexually attractive person. We may carelessly allow ourselves to recollect wounding words or actions that, even years later, cause us to tighten our fists or clench our jaws. Reflecting upon our inner wisdom, we can suspect or see the dangers of these reactions and thereby find ourselves protected against deep tenacities and inva-sive roots. "When you bury hate in your heart, you bury it alive" is a piece of liberating wisdom worth remembering. ~,~-~-~L~ ~ July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Some Helpful Preliminary Disdplines Any relaxation exercise that suits our personality may be used to induce a meditative state. Relaxing the muscles from the head on down throughout the body is a common practice. The point is to pull the mind away from the leaping about that characterizes our ordinary mental activity. As one Eastern mystic put it, "the mind is like a tree full of chattering monkeys." Another approach, count-ing backward from thirty, demands just enough concentration to clear the mind of other thoughts. Paying attention to your breath-ing also slows down the inner agitation. The current enthusiastic practice of walking a labyrinth serves the same purpose--certainly this was the reason why many European cathedrals have a labyrinth carved in the floor near the entrance. Working through a series of yoga exercises, too, or focusing on a mantra helps some achieve the same end. Before entering into such a disciplinary exercise, it is impor-tant to have a goal in mind: "Jesus, I want to go into the place where you live in me, sit with you there, and talk about this com-pulsion to anger, to judgment, that spurts up so frequently, so involuntarily within me. Open to me your way of living with anger, for you felt it too. Help me draw on the many times I have given in, and the times I have restrained myself and 'stuffed' down my anger, only to see it blaze up in a trivial context once again, a con-text that was most inappropriate. Lord, I want freedom--to the degree my frail humanity allows--freedom from this compulsion. Lord, I am admonished by the wisdom you,.and others, have taught me. I have seen people mellow with the years, and others grow sour. Seeing someone act harshly, hearing another cut into someone's reputation, I react angrily at once, from the simple proud conviction that 'I wouldn't do it that way!' And I quickly find myself locked emotionally and mentally into scathing criticism." Jesus gently points out to us--after we wait silently for a while--that the only times he became angry were when the Father was attacked, ignored, impugned in some way. Our petty and obsessive responses melt before his gentle encouragement. Sometimes when we journey inwardly we become more acutely aware how often we fall into stubborn, addictive behaviors about which we feel helpless. Who is this "other" person who shows up within me, powerful, demanding, whom I watch with anguish as if it were a stranger? We have tried therapy, prescription drugs, behavior modification. The one.thing lacking to these tactics-- Review for Religious and I do not deny their value--is this: They rarely draw on that inner wisdom, that Jesus-centered encounter, where true change can take place. For instance, Alcoholics Anonymous has helped innumerable people, and indeed has an important spiritual com-ponent, namely, surrender to a Higher Power. But surrender in faith is only a beginning. There needs to be private self-ques-tioning that draws on the inner wisdom with which we are graced. Wl~en an addictive, destructive pattern has invaded our psyche so that a part of our life has become disconnected from the normal flow of life, we need to reach into the deepest resources within us: grace, the voice of Jesus, our inner wisdom. Within this intense, highly focused place in our mind, we call on Jesus to walk us through another pattern of behavior. Mental rehearsal is common to many forms of psychother-apy. Seeing yourself in the company of Jesus, however, and con-trasfing sad experiences of the past with "bright angels" of wisdom and true freedom, we choose a different, liberating pattern of action. We establish new boundaries, mentally and visually mov-ing away from the edges of danger. The mental rehearsal itself is now a new behavior that we can draw on when temptation returns. The hand retracts instead of reaching for the bottle, the eyes turn away from the stimulus to lust (maybe "custody of the eyes" was not just a life-depriving tactic after all!), the serving spoon is put down after one moderate portion. Psychologists continue to study how the mind visualizes behaviors and procedures. Imagination and imagery can be used in very sophisticated ways. In a recent New Yorker article, Malcolm Gladwell asks: "What do Wayne Gretzsky, Yo-Yo Ma, and a brain surgeon named Charlie Wilson have in common?" The answer: their practice of careful visualization before any action is taken. These men are virtuosi, and they exercise their great technical skills internally first. They mentally see an action through to the end before they perform it externally. Charlie Wilson, during his morning run, looks at each of the day's operations in his head, visualizing the entire procedure and its potential outcome. He says, "When I was actually doing the operation, it was as if I were doing it for the second time." Once, after finishing an operation, .taking off his gloves, and heading off down the hall, he suddenly realized that "the tape he had been playing in his head didn't match the operation that had unfolded before his eyes. 'I was correlating everything--what I saw, what I ~dy-August 2000 expected, what the X rays said. And I realized that I had not pur-sued one particular thing. So I turned around, scrubbed, and went back in, and, sure enough, there was a little remnant of tumor that was just around the corner. It would have been a disaster.''3 Consulting our inner wisdom involves a similar attention to detail. The skills to visualize here, however, are not the motor skills, but rather the spiritual skills we have accumulated over the years through prayer, scriptural study, and the counsels of wise Christians in spiritual reading and in the living church. It is all there inside, waiting to be drawn on like a rich bank account. Adding to the Inner Wisdom We sometimes feel empty, wandering endlessly in our private deserts. We feel locked into decades-old mental labyrinths. Our motivation flags. Dorothy Day once told a reluctant young friend that God "makes us understand this distaste, this recoil from reli-gion. The lethargy comes from a. consciousness of the immanence of the struggle, the fact that it is unceasing and will go on to death, and we often think that sheer thoughtless paganism would be a relief. ''~ But deep within we accept what the great John Cardinal Newman wrote: "Prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the pulse and the drawing of the breath are to the life of the body. It would be as absurd to suppose that life could last when the body was cold and motionless and senseless, as to call a soul alive which does not pray. The state or habit the spiritual life exerts itself consists in the continual activity of prayer.''5 Our task consists in never giving up on the faithful practice of prayer. How often we have heard that! And each morning we awake with renewed intention. But then we shoot through the day like a bullet, "busy about many things"--good things, too. When we finally bring ourselves to our inner wisdom, finally sit at the feet of Jesus just for a while, it seems we hear him say: "Until you are convinced that prayer is the best use of your time, you will not find time for prayer." And the sentence haunts us, but also frees us now for the best use of our time. It is as though a key has turned in a lock. Sometime~ it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. St. Joseph, who never ~ays a word in the Gospels, is delighted when you join him for an evening and sit with him on a bench just outside the little house in Nazareth. Review for Religious Perhaps Mary will come out, too, and rest awhile as the sun sets behind the Galilean hills. There is a beautiful view from Nazareth over towards the Roman city of Sepphoris, and even beyond to-the great sea. They will talk to you if you question them. When Problems Arise, When Hopes Surface When we go with Jesus into th~ place of our inner wisdom, we make starding discoveries. We may find problems we did not know we have. We are likely to become aware of wasteful, regrettable ways that our head and heart have been capable of, but cannot well afford. There are innumerable clamorous voices. There is the insistent voice of the Problem Solver. He wor-ries relentlessl~ about the future. The muscles around his eyes are taut because he is always peering ahead, looking for solutions there in the distance. He causes headaches and upset stomachs. The expectations of others are his con-stant concern as he tries to weigh a chance remark, interpret a fleeting facial expression. There is no center from which he acts. Life is one wrenching effort to get control of things and people. His bulky appointment calendar, like Marley's chain, gives him away. Another recognizable voice inside us is the Self-Accuser. Her skin gets hot, her hands become fists, as she recalls awkward words and clumsy gestures from years past. She plays memory tapes over and over in our head. No one is more persistent in tearing us down than she is: "You have been in religious life for fifty years now, but that is no proof that God loves you." Nothing so saddens, so pierces the heart like this cry, one we have all heard many times. The Self-Accuser has only to stop talking and thus give,us a quiet moment to lift our eyes to the cross or listen to Jesus' many words of love for us, or to hear Yahweh's endear-ments in the words of prophets and psalmists. But, beaten down by the Self-Accuser's words or shrinking from her grimaces, hear-ing we do not hear, seeing we do not see--because the Self- Accuser in us relendessly shares her deafness and blindness with us, and we chronically allow it. Sometimes it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. j~uly-Aug~tst 2000 There are other inner voices. Perhaps most persistent is the voice of the Lonely One. It does not let us forget that we long to love and be loved, to hold and be held, to whisper and be whis-pered to, to beclose to Another and not feel so alone. Sometimes we do feel consoled and calmed. The lonely restlessness at the center of our being, however, can never be completely quieted; perhaps it is not meant to feel so much peace. It is a reminder of" our desire for our heavenly home. How poignantly John of the Cross describes this quest for the Beloved in his Spiritual Canticle: "Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning?" In the hollow center of the soul where inner wisdom and grace live, there also dwells this urgent longing, We carry this wound in our heart. We become aware of it sometimes with hopeful anticipation, some-times with fear. In time, achieving greater integrity--the union between what we appear outwardly to others and what we know inwardly to be true--may calm us to some degree. Disturbing voices within us are balanced by "bright angels" calling us to. greater integrity. We long for inner peace, but only sometimes, with our inner wisdom, do we experience a joyous hope for it. Letting Memory remind us "of those splendid moments when we were touched by God, when we felt the reality of God deeply, is inner wisdom. Those blessed recollections remain when thought and emotions became as one with.an intensity that seems like an embrace. These are wells to which we can return time and again. Another support is Imagination: gathering together the way-ward impulses of our heart, humbly putting them before Jesus as the woman caught in adultery did during her brief moments with him after all the others had gone. And she heard him say, "Neither do I condemn you" (Jn 8:11). We long to hear such healing words, words of forgiveness that bring an offer of reconciliation. Unlike her, we may still hold out, failing to hear those words because of our pride and shame. St. Paul insists: "We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). The repetition of per-sonally inspiring gospel texts (we all have our own)--in a mantra-like fashion, but more intentionally, until they infuse the heart--evokes and strengthens the inner wisdom. "The Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name" (Jn 15:16). "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16). Allowing such words to soothe the heart steadies our resolve. As the Curg d'Ambricourt affirmed on his deathbed in Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest: "All is grace." l~eview for Religious Jesus the Center of Our Being It helps to anchor our resolve in one basic' truth: Jesus is the center of our being, our very existence. Until we can accept that, we cringe when we hear Jesus uttering those breathtaking demands to his disciples: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up h.is cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 10:37-39). Who does this Jesus think he is, pushing into our lives and taking them over? Presuming on our most instinctive loyalties! Preempting our deepest affections! Usurping our natural ties to father, mother, son, and daughter! Boldly proclaiming himself the most important person in our lives! This cross which he demands we take up daily disorients our whole lives, doesn't it? These demands are one way of forcing us to admit quite simply--and we are dazed by the thought--that we are not the center of our own life. Everything in our consumer culture tries to convince us that we are. If we can swallow and digest that one truth, many of the pieces in this vast jigsaw puzzle of our lives would fit together wonderfully. When we realize that Jesus made us the center of his life within his obedient love for his Father--these demands become acceptable, even desirable. My favorite image of intimacy with Jesus comes from John's Gospel. The beloved disciple, while re.clining at table on that unforget-table evening, leans back onto the breast of Jesus. Consulting the inner wisdom that God has put into our hearts, we know we are invited to do the same. Do we have the courage, the love, to do so? Notes ~ Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Opoz Heart (New York: Amity House, 1986), p. 35. 2 Keating, Open Mind, p. 112. 3 Malcolm Gladwell, "The Physical Genius," New Yorker, 2 August 1999, p. 63. 4 Dorothy Day, "Letter to an Agnostic," America (90th Anniversary Issue) 180, no. 13 (17 April 1999): 8. s Quoted in Saint Meinrad Archabbey's Community Bulletin, 4 July 1999, p. 2. ~dy-August 2000 EILEEN E O'HEA Tell Them, Tell the New Members. religious vocations A Mission is clear. That is, most if not all religious insti-tutes have spent days, weeks, months on mission state-ments for their communities. And they have done this bravely, wisely, prayerfully. These statements, coming from their lived experience as dedicated men and women, represent not only what they are doing now but also what they hope to do, or do better, or do more of. Concern for the poor, the marginalized, the disenfran-chised is a substantial part of communities' commitment to do whatever they can to facilitate the reign of God here on earth. A sister in my community, Elaine, one we all agree is charismatic in the true sense of the word, has been riding the chartered bus from New York City to the Bedford Hills Women's Correctional Facility every other Sunday. The bus is filled with inner-city children going to see their mothers. It is a two-hour ride. Elaine's con-cern for the women in prison and for their continuing relationship with their children has made these Sunday visits possible. For more than thirty years Elaine has worked in what she calls "the slammer." Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ, a decade-long contributor to our pages, had her third book published in May: In Wisdom's Kitchen: The Process of Spiritual Direction (Continuum). Her address is still 1750 Marion Street, #8; Roseville, Minnesota 55113. Review for Religiotts "The slammer" is an accurate term because, as Elaine enters, at least ten gates must open and slam shut before she gets to the room where she works within the razor-wired enclosure of this maximum-security prison. The room is now called The Children's Center. Elaine's job has been to do whatever she can to help the women keep in touch with their children. This article will not attempt to describe all that is involved in Elaine's ministry in prison, or to describe the eight convents (called Providence Houses) that she and others have reopened so that women leaving prison have a place to live and a chance to begin again in a new environment. Their children come too, of course. The sisters liv-ing in these houses with the women and children are quite clear about the mission-and-ministry statements of their congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Stories like Elaine's (or Eugene's, as the case may be) are true of individuals or groups in many communities--and are attract-ing new members. "Come and see," we say. Come, join us in try-ing to make a better world. Come, help to bring about systemic change. Every year a few do come. They are searching; they seek something worthwhile to give their life to. They want to make a difference, and they want to be with others, with communities that are facilitating the reign of God on this earth. For some new members, religious life seems to work for a while but then seems to be "not enough," not enough of what they looked for or hoped to find. "What do you get for doing this?" they ask, or "Why stay?" after the excitement of discovery fades; "I can do this without a vowed life of poverty, chastity, and obedience." And they are right; they can. Many women and men, ¯ married or partnered, hold the same values and are involved in the same types of ministry. When we invite new members into this little piece of the vine-yard, into participating with us in mission and ministry, we often forget a simple truth that might literally be underneath their skin. New members seem to be looking for three things: ° a lived expe-rience of gospel values through the mission and ministry of the community; ¯ intimacy, which is part of the friendship found within community; ° and intimacy with the Divine. It is this third one I am concerned about. Elaine and the Providence House sisters are, without a doubt, prayerful, God-centered, holy women. They reflect on the day's Scriptures together, talk about the meaning of the texts for their July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the Nay Members. personal life and for their ministry, and they are committed to some personal prayer each day, usually some form of contempla-tive prayer. If we put prayer, community life, and ministry together, then why is it "not enough"? Admittedly, prayer or Scripture shar-ing sometimes means that those present share their personal strug-gles, philosophies, and theologies and thus can seem too intellectual, or too focused on the external ministerial needs, or too routinely self-focused. Most times, however, it is a heartfelt response to divine inspiration and the Gospels. Is this not "enough"? Perhaps not. Maybe those great mentors like Elaine and others are not sharing quite enough with the new member. We seem to do well at providing and accompanying new mem-bers in meaningful ministry. We also share community and friend- ~hip withthem, but we know, and hope they know, that we cannot supply what did not happen for them in their families of origin. Alice Miller, a leading psychologist of our time, states: "What you didn't get at age two, you will never get." Why? Not because we will not know love and affirmation, but because we will not know them as a two-year-old needed to know them. Intimacy and love is often an issue for new members, and they must work hard at discerning what they are meant to find within the community and what they must find within themselves. Frequently they feel there is not enough intimacy because deep friendships seem hard to find among the members. This is so because most of the members are much older, or are already bonded in relationships that have endured for years, or because the older members are so involved in their ministry that they do not have the time or the energy for anyone else. We probably will never resolve successfully all that is involved in the struggle for intimacy and love within religious communities, but we can do better. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this? What has kept Elaine trudging up to the slammer each day for thirty years? What makes h6r such a holy woman? Is there some experience so sus-taining that makes it worth everything? Is it possible that you, Elaine, have experienced being grasped by Divine Love? Is there something that happens, intimacy with the Divine, that holds you, sustains you, makes you the very delightful and humorous person we all know? Did you encounter Christ in your ministry to the poor and is this what transformed you? Do you, Elaine, know, really know, intimacy with Divine Love or know you dwell in inef- Review for Religious fable Mystery? And is what you experience available to me, the new member? Can you tell me---if, indeed, it did happen for you-- whether it happened all at once, or gradually through the years, and what kinds of psychological, emotional, and spiritual ups and downs you have gone through? Was there one experience that was more formative for you than any other? Intimacy with Divine Love (and people experience it in a variety of ways) is what the human heart longs for, searches for. Our nature is such that we are all meant to realize union in and with the Divine even though each of us will experience it differ-endy. So, when we invite new members to "come and see," we must tell them what they get. In my novitiate days the sixty-four novices (thirty-two have remained these forty years) were told by a very wise and very Irish mistress of novices that, if we left all, we would receive back a hun-dredfold. Did we? I cannot speak for others, but my guess is that most (maybe not all) would say yes and that they would make the same life choice if they had the opportunity to live it over again. They just never say exactly why they would do this. Intimacy in any human relationship of true love is rarely spoken about in detail. The same is true of intim, acy in and with Divine Love. Mystics write about human and divine love because they break through egoeentricity and are no longer reticent or ashamed to speak of the wonder, the awe, the love they experi-ence. Poets write of human and divine love and tease our spiritual appetite by circling around some pro'found experience. They are like eagles riding the air current, then soaring so high we lose sight of them and what they are expressing. They stir up the embers of our hearts with their hints, but eventually leave us feel-ing tantalized by possibility. I do not think it can be any other way. Relationships of true love are intrinsically mysterious because the experience is beyond words, beyond intellectual constructs. The words of the poet point us to the moon, as the Zen saying goes, but once you see the moon the pointer is no longer neces-sary. In fact, it is an impediment. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this ? July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the New Members. What ke~ps us from at least giving hints as poets and lovers do? What can we say to new members if we are not poets? Some, like the poets, will use romantic language to describe their expe-rience of the Divine; others will be more concrete or more tran-scendent in expressing their experience. Recendy, at the end of a mission-and-ministry convocation, someone complained that he seldom heard Jesus referred to throughout the weekend. One of the participants responded by asking, "Is it more important to quote Scripture and refer explic-itly to Jesus or to do what he did and invite people to share the communion of table fellowship with us?" A good question, a great response. It has a familiar ring to many of us. It is the tension between doing works of justice and peace and theologizing about them, and then reflecting on them and integrating them as part of our own personal journey of faith. Simply naming God and Jesus as we talk about our lives and ministry is not what I am referring to. I want "hints" from Elaine and from the remaining thirty-two members of my novitiate. I think the reasons we hesitate to speak about our religious experi-ences are many. We do not all believe the same things about God or Jesus any more, and we do not want to offend, or we are afraid of exposing what is most sacred to us because it might meet with disdain and scoffing, or become the subject of theological combat. And so we are quiet. The pearl of great price is buried. Religious experience is always unique, different with every individual. Two categories, however, help to explicate distinct modes of experience. For those whose religious experience is the esoteric, God is the One beyond all names .and forms and is Mystery. There is nothing to say and nothing to tell because, over their years of spiritual searching, they have discovered this truth: God is ultimately an ineffable Mystery. Some not only take refuge in this discovery, but even collapse into it. They stop searching and ride on their limited knowledge, presuming that what they have discovered is all that can be realized. Consequently, their relationship with ineffable Mystery is rarely spoken of. I think some new members want to know that this experience of ineffable Mystery is not the dead end of the spiritual journey, but a realized source of joy in the one experiencing it; that this connection with the Divine, an experience beyond any human connection, makes a life of celibacy the only choice for them; and that it is this par-ticipation in divine life that impels them to minister to others and Reviev~ for Religious thereby have an experience, however fragile, of equanimity, integrity, wholeness. Esoterics must learn how to share their expe-rience of ineffable Mystery with the new members and admit to them that there is such a thing as the hundredfold. For some others, another type of religious experience is open, one frequently referred to as exoteric. It is the experience of a personal relationship with the