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Frank Yannacone, July 22, 2013 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. ; 75p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management Special Collections All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Yannacone, Frank, an oral history by Lorrie Rands, 22 July 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Frank Yannacone July 22, 2013 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. LR: Okay it's July 22, 2013. We are in the home of Mr. Frank Yannacone doing an oral history about 25th street and his memories of the buildings and the his memories of the life on that street. So Mr. Yannacone thank you so much for letting us be in your home today. I'm sorry, I'm Lorrie Rands doing the interview, Melissa Johnson is here with me as well as your daughter in law. FY: Marva LR: Marva? FY: Well Yannacone LR: Yannacone, well of course. I told you when I walked in my blonde is showing. MY: That's okay LR: I'm having my day. So Mr. Yannacone I would love for you just to start—go ahead and start at the Broom Hotel and make your way up and down the street. FY: Okay the Broom Hotel. I remember it in the 1950s, it was in kind of a state of disrepair. When it was built it was supposed to have been the best between Denver and San Francisco—of course I heard the same claim for the Hotel Utah when that was built. But anyhow going west was, as I recall, Ross and Jack's Restaurant, which at that time it had a nice art deco façade and a lot of neon. The story was that Ross and Jack had a café and they got into some 1 disagreement so they put a wall down the middle and had Ross's Café and Jack's Café. It went on like that for many years and then they decided maybe that was pretty stupid so they took the wall out and put the nice façade and it was Ross and Jack's Café instead of Ross's Café and Jack's Café. Early history says that Jack Dempsey washed dishes there before he became a big time boxer. I just heard that, I don't know. Next I believe was Morris Men Shop, which was a men's Habersasher, but he was also a clearing house for Basque sheep herders. They'd come in from Elko, check—if they needed a job or looking for someone or mail drop, he was the clearing house for the Basques. Next I think that little bar on Kiesel and across the street where the Federal Building is now, on Kiesel, there was a little café, little diner. Next was Hemingway and Moser had a cigar factory there at least for a while. I can remember standing in the street watching them roll cigars and their brand had something to do with a blue whale or a blue point or something nautical. Next was Ogden Blue, a new business, just a little hole in the wall and now what, 60 years later they're still around and thriving I guess. There are a lot of assorted shops, restaurants, bars, I don't remember the rest of the block, but I remember a Hotel which was on Grant, still there. Next door was the Friendly Tavern, and Saturday nights my wife and I would go to hear the Salvation Army band play about 7:00 every Saturday night. Had a little brass band, I don't know 5/6 members and Sally's would go hit all the bars with their tambourines, collecting change. Starting in that block you had a lot of little restaurants and bars, a lot of Japanese. The whore houses were upstairs still 2 operating. I guess they operated until I don't know, close to 1960 and they— when they closed them up of course all that upstairs room turned into housing in the door to the upstairs started appearing little notices that upstairs was a private dwelling, no trespassing and as I recall there was a shooting down there. Some drunk insisted that it was a whore house and wouldn't take no for an answer and I think he got gunned down, that's my memory. I can't say for certainty, but for some reason it's in my mind. There was a little Japanese restaurant, little ma and pa place. Old wooden booths, hole in the wall, dark—somebody took us there and it had the best damn shrimp, even better than the Utah Noodle, they were great. All that block was mixed housing, bars, stores, shops, and whore houses. Down on the Lincoln end about the 3rd place from the corner there was a grocery store and a hotel upstairs. The name Howard comes into mind and as I mentioned last week I never talked to the guy, but I bought a Medal D'oro which is an Italian espresso coffee. He had it; he also had Luzianne coffee which was a chicory Cajun coffee and Sorgaum syrup. The only thing I can figure, I never asked, but the only thing that I can figure is the black population, a lot of them working on the railroad and they were on Wall Avenue. LR: Was the black population at this time allowed to come into the store or was it after? FY: Now that store, 25th street was different see, kind of. LR: I know the North side was for the whites and the south side was for the Negro population. 3 FY: No, no, no, no, no. The citizens, the residents lived on Wall, close to the railroad. Then they started moving up to Lincoln, but they were segregated. That was our ghetto misnomer of course cause I don't know where that started. A ghetto was a walled area in Europe and old Europe. Somehow or other now—we used to call them slums or something. Now they're ghettos, I don't know. Anyhow, there were a lot of Winos I mean it was kind of like skid row, 25th street. After they closed the whore houses it really went downhill. It was a pretty reasonable place, you never went out on a Saturday night without—you went to the Star Noodle or the China Temple, that ended your evening. It was quite civilized. They had—I can't remember the hotel on the corner it's gone now on the northeast corner of Wall and 25th street. MJ: Was it the Healy? FY: Might have been. I remember when they tore it down, nobody then wanted to put in sprinklers or fix it or something and they tore it down. Next door was the China Temple and next door was the Depot Drug and they had a sign out, "prescription filled." It was a regular drug store and a lot of bars. There was a time, it was before my time when you could do anything on 25th street. You could do banking, you could transact business, you could eat, buy clothing and they had hotels of course because the railroad was right there. There were—I saw it in the paper just recently, the Kokomo Club doing some repairs and they found some old artifacts. Kokomo Club was going strong when I came to Ogden, and there's a bar probably been running for geez anyhow 70/75 years, maybe longer and still going. 4 MJ: Yeah we are going to be interviewing the owners of it. FY: There was another one called I think Pagano's. Well anyhow we'll go across the street. That corner building is still there. It was a stone building and next to it were some small shops including a souvenir shop, had a big sign up, one cent postcards. You probably can remember that. That sign was there when postcards were a nickel or more. MJ: Now is this off of Wall down on that end? FY: We're coming back from Wall now. We're now on that big stone building, I don't know I don't remember what it was, could've been a bank when it was built, but it's still there. Then coming up, there were frame buildings, shops, big front windows painted red as I recall many of them, especially that one with the one cent postcards. You've got a picture somewhere I'm sure of it. MJ: That block right there, just off of Wall, we have very few pictures of. I think that first building is the Murphy Block and we've been talking to the family that owned that building, trying to get photos. FY: Well there's a picture in what did I tell ya? UtahHikes.com. Old Ogden, there's a picture from the terminal and it was taken after the hotel was torn down. But the building on the other side is still there and I imagine if you look close with a glass you can see that sign out there with the one cent. Then you came to the what did I say the name was? That hotel? LR: The Broom? No. FY: Where is that book? 5 MJ: Oh the Royal Hotel? FY: Royal! That was Weeklys'. That was where the black train people stayed. That was all segregated you know, until 64. It was the Royal Hotel and downstairs was the bar, the Porter's and Waiter's Club, which was a nightclub for all the blacks and stories about big bands coming and that's where Annabelle married Weekly. Then after he died she opened Annabelle's, which was a fried chicken place. I wasn't into fried chicken, my wife was, but I could eat her chicken and I told you the story why I could eat her chicken. She said it was cooked by Mexicans in lard, and I checked, all her cooks were Mexican and they had big, cast iron skillets and Dutch ovens and you could smell the lard if you got close to the pass out window. Then last I heard about her, she took a degree in sociology and was working for the state. Now there's a guy around town and he comes here occasionally, he's 93 years old and he's a musician and his name is Joe… MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: Eastman? No Joe, MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: McQueen. MJ: The saxophone player. FY: Yeah, he used to play there. I understand he still—he's 93 years old and he still comes up here and takes people shopping and runs errands and stuff. I never had the chance to meet him yet, but I understand he and Annabelle were coming 6 back from Wendover and he was driving, had a wreck somewhere west of Tooele and she got killed. MJ: Yeah that was— FY: Can't be too many years ago. MJ: Four years ago? Five? LR: I thought it was a while ago. MJ: No it wasn't all that long ago. MY: Yeah, I remember something about that. FY: It was fairly recent, fairly recent. MJ: It was shortly after the document that Isaac Goeckeritz did. He filmed both Joe McQueen and Annabelle and it was about a year or so after that. FY: Now, story is she was the highest price call girl in Ogden. MJ: Oh really? FY: That was the story, she was a looker. When she was young, I mean she was a looker. Now we're talking about nice—a date, civility of 25th street. We had the whore houses all the doctors were in the First Security Bank building, maybe a few across at the Eccles building, but once a month those girls would go for their physical. I knew someone who worked at one of the dress shops and there were several of them in that block from 25th to 24th. There was Clifton's, they're still around. There was Hughes, I think Mode O' Day or something. Anyhow, the girls liked when the, I mean the clerks liked when the girls went for their physicals 7 because they shopped on the way home and spent money. These sales clerks worked on a base plus commission so they were happy to see them. The ladies they walked down the street you know it was civilized; you could go down and not worry about getting shot up or something. After they closed up these places then it got tough. That's when it became skid row. There were winos and drunks, it was tough. That's what happened to that Howard Hotel or grocery store or whatever it was. It was a yellow brick building. Some wino got hallucinations one night and he was cold and lit a fire under the sink and burned the whole damn place down. Yeah there were panhandlers, it was tough. The only time you went there, you went to the China Temple or the Star Noodle. MY: That was it. FY: Okay then we get up on that corner. There was a stack yard. A stack yard's an electrical place where they got transformers and I think that's still there, I'm not sure. MJ: I'm not sure either. FY: On Lincoln, Lincoln and Wall, or Lincoln and 25th. LR: I thought that was the building, wasn't that where Rose Davies building was? FY: No that's on the other side. We're still between Wall and Lincoln. LR: Hmm I thought we were on Lincoln now. MJ: So right on the corner there of Lincoln? 8 FY: There was I think a stack yard. Maybe on the wrong block, but it's a stack yard. I call it a stack yard, it's a place where the power company has transformers and wires coming in and going out. A substation I guess they call them. LR: There's one I seem to recall when we were at that Karen's Café. There was something behind it that reminded me of a substation so maybe that's it. FY: Well see I haven't been down that part of town—I've been here a year and haven't been down there. I figure it's not interesting anymore. LR: It actually is, it might be worth your while to go down and look at it again. FY: Well I hear they got a lot of overpriced restaurants. MJ: Yeah there's a few of those. FY: A lot of glitz and stuff like that and I don't walk well. It's of no historical interest to me anymore. Okay let's cross the street and go to El Boracho. MY: My class wanted to have our picture taken in front of it, but the nuns at St. Joseph's High School didn't think that would be good. LR: I can't imagine why. FY: Now across the street where the El Boracho is now I understand there was a restaurant called Patricia's or something or Poncho's, Mexican, Mexican place. My sister was over visiting from Cheyenne and she was going to take the bus back. I don't remember, hell I think that was the only—by then that was the only way to go back. I think the trains had quit running. Anyhow she wanted some authentic Mexican food and we took her in there. The food was delicious and I 9 don't think she enjoyed a bite because she was worried about if it was safe to be in there. MY: I could see Betty doing that. FY: Anyhow, the Rose Rooms were on top of El Boracho and I worked with a young fellow at the packing house. There was a garage across Ogden Avenue from the Hotel Ben Lomond and it was a parking garage, typical downtown parking garage that they had in those days. Hotel guests parked their cars there and business people, dropped their cars off for oil changes, there was no 15 minute Jiffy Lube back then. Anyhow he had a part time job while he was in high school and Rose had a big four door Sedan, I can't remember. He described, would tell us about it and she'd call—she'd want her car to go for a drive. He would have to deliver it, he was the gopher. He'd park the car and then he'd go upstairs and have to go back in the kitchen to give her the keys and usually he said some of the girls were in there having coffee and talking. It was afternoon, slow time of day I guess and he can remember hustling them. He could also remember they'd laugh at him you know, just a kid. He kept talking about it when he was older and I guess hey that was an experience. I worked with another guy whose aunt and uncle owned the Montana Hotel, next door which was a three story building. He spent a summer or so with them one time. He would talk about in the summer he'd go up on the third floor up on the roof and look over at the second floor roof next door and watch the girls sunbathing. Hey that's pretty thrilling stuff for high school kids I tell ya. MY: They didn't have the internet. 10 FY: Then it came up the street there to the Star Noodle. Now the Star Noodle—that fellow I don't remember his name, but I used to know it. He built Dai Enkotai out there on Highway 89, out in South Ogden. Dai Enkotai, Wayside Inn is the translation. When he built that there was no water up there on that part of the bench. 500 bucks would buy you an acre of land—I even had 500 bucks. He would go up there with his pickup loaded with 50 gallon drums and hand water all that planting he did. Last I saw it I was out there geez I don't know, 20/30 years ago had dinner there and everything has mature and I don't know if you've ever been in. It's a Japanese Tea House, you know the nice roof and the shoji doors, shoji doors you know are the wood and parchment, beautiful place. Anyhow he's planted all that stuff, everyone thought he was nuts. Then they built I think a Rockport dam and suddenly there was water, you couldn't buy 500 dollar an acre anymore. The place started booming. Anyhow I understand that sign is somewhere around. MJ: The Star Noodle? Yeah, the last I heard about it the city is holding onto it because they want it preserved and they want it actually put back up on the building as kind of a historic piece. FY: I'll tell you how that works. Up in Rexburg there was a theatre built in 1932 or 3. It was art deco. A big neon sign outside, and the company who owned that decided to abandon it and they built these stadium theatres. Somehow the city caught wind of it, they were dismantling everything, and the city was able to buy it. The stipulation, you can't show movies in there. Anyhow it took 10 or 15 years—we had an enlightened councilman up there. There was a problem with parking on 11 the main street and he says instead of the city spending money trying to restore that, let's tear it down and build a parking lot. Typical American thinking, it's 50 years old, get rid of it. Anyhow between the college, which did a lot of the engineering and design work free and a lot of student help and volunteers, they restored that building and they rebuilt the marquee. All neon and arrows and beautiful things. The only difference now instead of posting letters it's digital. It's on all day and most of the night, well until midnight every day. They post the weather and civic happenings and announcements like that, beautiful. Could've been lost you know? LR: So can you see them doing that with the Star Noodle, with that property? FY: I can see them with the sign yeah and the façade. MJ: I think that's the goal. Right now the building is empty and the owner is—the city has told him that he has to restore it. He can't tear it down, he has to restore it so he's working on that and right now the city is holding onto the sign for safe keeping so it will get restored. FY: See when they built the—in Salt Lake City, I can't remember, what was the shopping mall they built right across from the temple? LR: Crosswords, Crosswords Mall. MJ: Yeah FY: Then they went across the street and rebuilt the ZCMI block. That façade is the original, the old cast iron and they've done that in a lot of places. The inside, god only know what it is, but the outside is still there. Yeah they can do that with the 12 Star Noodle. Then up from that there were some assorted businesses, bars, I can't remember until you hit the Greyhound Terminal and I remember when they built that. I don't know what was there, but I remember when they built that. I think, and I'm not sure there, because reminds me of an art deco building, you know with that curved front. I can't be sure and next door was the big old home, the Elks Lodge. See the bakery, the bakery bought that—now if you're on Lincoln Avenue going south from El Boracho there was a red brick two story apartment building there. Had 6 or 8 apartments in there and I knew a guy, he was a colored fellow, worked with him. Lacey Jones and I can't remember his wife's name, but she was quite a character. Anyhow Lacey lived there and I remember when he bought it, now that's part of the bakery property too. Had to be in the 70s, it was still there, an apartment house. MJ: The Elks Lodge you mean? FY: No behind El Boracho. Then of course you went up 25th street to the Ben Lomond and that corner office used to be a Union Pacific Ticket office, so you didn't have to go to the depot. In those days you had 64 trains a day come through Ogden, you could've gone anywhere. Then the numbnuts guys, typical, what did they do? They went in and tore down all that cast iron canopies except for one. Filled in the subway, now they want to restore it and got no money. It was there! LR: So you're not an Ogden native? FY: No I came here in 1950. 13 LR: You're originally from? FY: Pennsylvania. LR: What brought you to Ogden, your job? FY: Work, yeah. I came out to school, married and then came to work for Swift. I worked there until they closed. There's another—the viaduct, used to walk across the viaduct, it was old and wooden. See you people wouldn't remember it because they rebuilt it before you were probably even alive. MY: It seems like there wasn't the one that's there now that I remember. FY: Well then you remember the old one. MY: I remember the old one. FY: You're older than these gals, yeah. It was iron with framed deco. It was 2 by, I don't know, 2 inch lumber on edge with black top on it. You walked up and then when you got across the yard before you hit the river there was a stairway, and I walked it many times like all other people to go to work. You'd walk down and it'd dump you off right there where there was a ramp that went down and the stairs took you down under the ramp right there to the packing house. West Ogden was Bertagnoli's Motel, Mountain View Motel, I think it was Bertagnoli. Used to be a motel, course we had stock shows and stock yards and Ogden was a booming town. Anyhow I noticed it's now an apartment, Mountain View apartments, but its story was he made his money as a bootlegger and then built the motel. They had the big stock shows, my father-in-law worked for, as a young fellow, he worked for Covey of Covey Bagley and Dayton, sheep people, 14 and the old man he's the one that built Little American over by Granger, I met him. My father-in-law came down from Logan to go to the stock show and we went down there one time and it's in November, cold weather you know. I don't know if you've ever been to a stock show, but they have the pavilion and they give parts of it to different exhibitors and they use straw or hay to kind of fence it off. There's no heat and we went down and that's the year I won a little leather suitcase from Read Brothers, when they were still on 24th street in the leather business. We had had a judging contest and they called me at home, you know you went in and gave your name and phone number. They called says you won the prize for the judging and I had that suitcase for years. Then somebody spilled something in it and I gave it to the DI. I wish I hadn't cause it had their plate on it you know. Anyhow we're walking down through there and you can see they all have big banners these places and you could see Covey Bagley and Dayton Herefords. We're walking down the aisle and my father-in-law says, "My god there's Anson," or Anselm, Ansom, A-N- I think S-C-L-M, or A-N-S-C-M, anyhow that was his name, Covey. Here's this old guy in a black overcoat and gray hair sitting on a bale of hay and we walked up to him and he got up and he says, "By god Tommy how the hell are you?" It had to have been WWI when he quit so it had to be like 40 or 50 years and he still remembered him. I thought that was just great. There's a guy see I wished I had recorded, there were real tape recorders when he was living. After his wife died he moved in with his son and he would tell stories about herding sheep out of Cokeville, Wyoming. There were so many 15 sheep and he said there were so many sage hens and in the spring when they started moving the sheep the ground would be yellow from sage hen eggs that the sheep trampled. Now you know they're endangered. MY: I've never heard of a sage hen. FY: Sage hen is a quail, some kind of a quail. There's a half a dozen kind of them. MY: They're cute FY: Anyhow you went up 25th street and I don't remember what was there before they built the Ramada Inn, but the Ramada Inn. God that had to be around 1970. MY: Yeah I'm trying to think what was there and I can't remember either. The church, I'd go to the church there FY: Then across the street was a church and they sold it and it was the American Legion Hall for many years. I don't know what it is now. MY: It used to be Kamikaze's. MJ: Yeah, it still is. FY: Oh, a club? MY: It's a bar. MJ: Yeah. MY: Then a Presbyterian church. FY: Then across the street you had Larkin's Mortuary and wasn't that the street where they had the White, the dance hall? 16 MY: That was on 25th and Adams. LR: White City. FY: White City, yeah. MY: Cool place, I remember. FY: Hell that was a big dance hall. It had a roof like the Salt Lake Tabernacle. Big dance hall and they tore that down. You had the Berthana and the White City LR: They were happening spots back in the day. MY: We used to roller-skate at the Berthana up into the 70s. LR: They were happening spots back in the day. They were the place to go. FY: They were dance halls. The Berthana then became a roller rink, but that White City was a dance hall. Yeah it had live music and bands and everybody danced and then you came down the hill. First was Jimmie's Floral, later years you had a little restaurant there called the Canton Low, next to it was a Beauty Shop Supply and next was—Kathy Faunce had a dress top shop, what the hell did she call that? Some fancy name, and then on the corner was Farr's Jewelry. The Canton on the base, on the first floor of the old Masonic Temple on, across from the courthouse. On the main floor was a Chinese restaurant called the Canton. The guy that owned that, and I think Rose who owned half of the Canton Low a little later, she was maybe his wife or his partner. Anyhow it was a big Chinese restaurant and he was going home one night and on the corner there of Adams and 25th there was a wreck, he got hit or whatever. No seatbelts in those days, he ran his car into the curb in front of St. Joe's church, got thrown 17 out, hit his head on the curb and got killed. That was the end of the Canton Café, now I don't recall the sequence of when the Canton closed and the other little place opened, but you had the Ben Lomond Hotel and Royal Shoe Store was next door. Guy sold Red Wings. I bought a pair, 5 bucks. LR: A pair of Red Wings for 5 bucks. FY: 6 inch shoes made in the USA of course, and a guy named Saccamano was his name. Oh and then you had the Orpheum, the Orpheum theater. You know how these theatres had long entries and businesses. Dokas's Greek Restaurant, it was just a lunch counter. It wasn't fancy, but it was Dokas's restaurant and candy store, hand dipped chocolates. You could get a blue plate lunch in there for like 45 cents or something. Then they moved down on Grant, somewhere between I think 24th and 23rd and they still had the candy. They were a wholesaler for tobacco and cigarettes and sundress. God that was a heyday. LR: You mentioned last time about the Bamberger that ran up 25th street. FY: It's in that book, the Bamberger was the interurban. When I grew up they were called Interurban Railroads. They were trolley cars and they went 60/70 miles an hour and I mean they were electric trains, but they were actually high powered trolley cars. You had them between cities and the Bamberger, okay let's go back. Bamberger was the first—he was a Jewish business man. He was a governor I think the only Jewish governor in the state of Utah. He had this railroad between Ogden and Salt Lake, well he started it. He started Lagoon cause he got to Lagoon and they couldn't go further so he started Lagoon and he 18 made some money and then he was able to finish down into Salt Lake. Their terminal, they came in from Logan. I think that was the U & I Railroad. Those railroads would go right down the main street and you could've gone from Franklin to Ogden to Salt Lake, I don't recall past that. They came in on Lincoln, had railroad tracks on Lincoln cause Becker's Brewery was on Lincoln about 21st street. The old Becker Mansion was across on the east side of Lincoln and beautiful old building with columns, sure you got pictures. I was disappointed after coming back after 25 years. Utah still has that 3.2 law. Becker was making 3.2 beer, but he had a place up in Evanston called the Uintah Club beer where he made full strength beer. Every brewery has a bar, bar room. I don't remember what year it was, but they put radios in the switch engines. Now Ogden was big you know, big yards and lots of traffic. Lots of switch engines and they put in radios and they just almost had a riot with the railroad employees because at any given time just about you could find a switch engine parked by the brewery. They'd take turns going up there to have a cool beer, free on the house of course. Then they'd put radios and that kind of put the kibosh, cause they couldn't hide out anymore. The Bamberger came in, you could—see one story leads to another. My wife during the war lived in Logan and her mother played the piano. Rachel could play the piano from 9 years old she was playing in dance bands, bought her own piano. Well in Brigham City at Bushnell Hospital they used to take—my wife and her mother would take the train, the Bamberger over the mountain to Brigham City. She'd entertain, my wife would sing and they'd entertain these guys who 19 were all shot up and god only knows. Anyhow you could take the train all the way to Salt Lake and when it came to Ogden the depot was behind the old post office, 24th street. You'd go north, Pete Vlahos bought that for his office, but then next there was a knitting mill there. Was it Ogden Knitting Mill? MY: Oh yeah. FY: Then the city bought that, the city school district bought that a part of that building or there's a space there. That was the terminal for the Bamberger. They'd come down Lincoln and swing in and unload and then start out. You had a Y right there on Lincoln just north of 24th street. They'd come in then back out and go to Salt Lake. They stayed on Lincoln until St. Joe's School was what? 28th? 29th? MY: Between 27th and 28th on Lincoln. FY: Now did the trolley run past St. Joes? MY: I'm trying to think if there were tracks down that way and I don't think there were. FY: Anyway somewhere down there they cut across, the cut across the Weber River where you take the 31st freeway. Somewhere in that freeway now is where they used to cross the thing and go down and ended up in Hill field. See most of that right away is under I-15, but that interchange on 31st by the freeway coming down from the airport, that was city dump. On the west side of the river was the city dump. MY: Cause there wasn't anything else out there. FY: No, nothing. Oh just sand hills and that was the city dump. 20 LR: So do you recall when the Bamberger stopped running? I wonder if that affected, if that was as big of an impact as when the trains stopped coming in. FY: Well no because see back, during WWII there was about 130 million people in this country. Now you got 330 million, not everybody had a telephone, not everybody had a car. Gas was 15 cents and a car was 500 bucks during the depression. Who the hell had 500 bucks? By the time the Bamberger quit freeways started, Eisenhower started that in the 50s and in the 60s you had pieces of it between here and Salt Lake. Transportation I don't think, was that big a problem because you had Trailways and you had Greyhound, but more people had cars in the 50s. Hell almost everybody had a car. See that puts a different light on it. When Bamberger started, that was in the depression days, public transportation had trolley cars in Ogden. My father-in-law drove a trolley car in Ogden and the yard was—I can remember when they started building houses in there. 27th or 28th above Adams under the hill there was about a half a block or maybe a little more was kind of flat. That was the yards for the trolley cars. They ran up and down Washington Boulevard and when I came to Ogden they had bus service, but there was a big strike. But they had buses running up and down Washington and I think they had one would go up to Harrison and another one would go to West Ogden. It was pretty rudimentary, but people used the bus. Hell I used the bus and Ogden then was like 40,000 people. You had—Wilson Lane was out in the country, but you had Pete's Café which is still there. You had I think taxi service then, but it was pretty limited. Then the trains quit see—I don't 21 know about 67 or 8—those railroads really went at it with a vengeance. Passenger service cost them money, they couldn't make money on people, service got bad. I'll tell you a little story about my mother. She liked taking the trains and she'd stop in Cheyenne to see my sister and then she'd take the train over to see me and then she had an old childhood chum living in California, Colusa, California. She would call from my house to talk to this lady and set up. They'd pick up my mother in Sacramento and she would ride the bus. She liked the bus cause it took you downtown and she liked the trains cause you went into town and you saw the backyards. I enjoyed the trains too for that reason. Anyhow my sister, I had a niece that died and she was nine. The only way my mother could get to the funeral from Pennsylvania to Cheyenne was fly. She was petrified, but she had to do it. After the funeral she came over and visited for a while and she said—now this was, god this had to be in early 60s I guess. Anyhow she said she was on the, at the airport, and she said people would take her by the arm and call her by name and say, "Now you come on, you stand here and if we can get you on this flight," she was flying stand by. She said, "Now you stand here and if there's a place on this plane you know we'll get you on there and if not we'll see about the next flight." She said everybody was so nice, they were friendly. She said every time somebody did that at the airport I thought about the conductors on the trains. "Are we on time," and they'd snarl at ya. 22 "When's the dining car open," and they'd snarl at ya. She started flying after that. She gave up on the railroad. I took a train in 1964 where I had to go through four cars to find a car where I could plug in an electric razor they were that decrepit. Plugged them in and nothing happened. LR: So it's not surprising that they just, it became— FY: I mean they were deliberately doing that. See of course what happened, coincidental with all that was the US Post Office started air mailing mail instead of using the railway mail cars. LR: That was one of the huge reasons why they stopped. FY: Well they had revenue see and the passengers they would put up with, but when the post office cut them out they figured hell these people are costing us money and they went after them. That mail was all sorted by hand and they ran regular runs. I left a message for Charles Trentelman, I didn't leave it in his voicemail because I got somebody at a gift shop. Got a voicemail at the gift shop at the depot and I said, "Tell Trentelman that there's a fellow working at the Ogden post office who started out as a railway mail clerk." So there's still some guy, and when I heard the guy said he's old he must be at least 70. Well yeah he would be. So the Bamberger I don't know when they quit, but they were probably losing money and glad they quit. LR: Something else you mentioned last time that I found fascinating was talking about drinking coffee with Marshall White. I can't remember the whole story anymore, but you talked about drinking coffee with Marshall White. 23 FY: Yeah he came to my house one day and we were visiting about something or other, I don't recall, but we had coffee. You know he was— LR: A decent fellow? FY: See we talked about, I told you about that story about being in the China Temple. LR: You said it was your one regret. FY: See in the context of time—at the time there was two of us. We had an early thing going at the packing house and this guy came in from Portland and I picked him up at the Ben Lomond and said, "Let's stop and have some breakfast." The only place open at 4:00 in the morning was the China Temple. We went in there and sat down and while we were waiting for our order these three colored fellows came in and sat down at the end of the counter, way down by the kitchen. The guy comes out and tells them we can't' serve you and they left. I didn't pay any attention and I told Lorrie my regret was that I didn't walk out, but at the time didn't think anything of it. It didn't take me, only like a couple hours or next day or something I got thinking, "Geez there I sit—some Chinese guy telling a black guy he can't serve him. MY: But it was the time. FY: You heard me talk about Lacey Jones you know, when your boy died who was there? Lacey MY: I have pictures of him holding Tommy. He came to—Tommy was probably a month old and I have— FY: What was her name? 24 MY: I know, ever since you said his name, Lacy and anyway, I have pictures of him in my living room holding my baby. Beautiful pictures. LR: When was this? MY: Oh, 1982. FY: My kids were raised—my wife, I'll tell you she had an occasion, I'm not going to go into much detail, but she had an occasion to be in a position where she was catering to the public. Couple of colored folks came in and sat down and my wife was—hey I can tell you she can attest to this—we're walking down Washington Boulevard and we're standing in front of Froerer Place on 26th for real estate, 26th and? MY: Washington. FY: Washington. I said, "Wait a minute I got to go in and talk to Fred about something," and when I come out she's visiting with some woman on the sidewalk. The lady left and I said, "Who was that?" She says, "I don't know." I could hear so I asked, "Well what was she telling you about her son-in-law or something?" She says, "I don't know, she just came up and started talking." Anyhow wife's very pleasant to these people and somebody said you're a nigger lover. She got the guy by the shoulder and threw him out. MY: I was surprised that's all she did. 25 FY: So see my kids were raised, we had no animus. That's why it bothered me later when I—hey that's, god that's 60 years ago nearly. LR: And it still bothers you? FY: And it bothers me. MY: I can see that. FY: See and then when I heard about Marshall White. They're chasing some kid, got out of reform school and they chased him into this house and the kid comes up out of the basement with a gun and shoots the guy right at the top of the stairs. MY: Well remember when the hi-fi shop thing all happened and you made Robert go pick Lacey up. LR: Now was that on 25th street? FY: No that was on? MY: About 23rd and Washington, but it was right next to Karamel Korn. My husband was working with his dad and this Lacey Jones we've been talking about, he worked there and because of the hi-fi shop thing and the blacks and stuff. Frank was afraid for Lacey because you know some people just— FY: What was her name? Camilia? Camilla? MY: I'm trying to think of Robert saying it. Lacey and. FY: She was quite the character. MY: They were great people. 26 FY: Well you know life, I look at it differently than when I was her age. When I was 18, a boy. MY: Well and there again I think it's the time. My dad grew up in the South. I was raised with a little different perspective, but I never understood why my dad was prejudice. I didn't get it. I'm like why? I don't get it. I still don't understand it, why? Just because somebody has different colored skin. I see it with my grandchildren. In fact my little grandson he'll be telling me about a friend or something and he'll say he's brown, but you know there's no ethnic type, he's black, he's Mexican, he's this. So is your mother when she's out in the sun. FY: We lived in Hawaii for a couple of years and favorite story, oh that picture there. I found your husband's face in there. MY: Oh did you find him? Cause he's the only little haole. FY: As a matter of fact we had Japanese neighbors. See this country is becoming like Hawaii, there's no majority. See even back when we were there whites were not a majority. Had some neighbor kids, my kids were like 7 or 8, 6 or 7, somewhere around there. They're watching a war movie on television and my wife told me this story. I don't remember what the movie was, but Robert can tell you. He's probably seen it a million times. Anyhow it was a Japanese soldier sneaking up on this American GI and one of the little Japanese neighbor boy says watch out for that Jap! That's become a family story because that's the way it was. The kids, my kids were raised and her kids I'm sure raised that's—but back 60 years ago it was different. 27 Now I went to school with black kids, back then we called them Negros or colored. I can remember I spent a summer—I was in New York 1945—I was in Time Square on VJ Day. I was in that mass of about a million people, never forget it. I used to take a train 2:00 in the morning through Harlem. I'd be the only white guy, but there was nobody on the train, only half a dozen people on the whole damn three car train. Going through Harlem never had any fears. I Went to school with folks from hell, all over. Now coming from the South I worked with a guy in Idaho, turned out good friends, he's dead now. Jimmy Mitchell was born in Nashville and I didn't find that out until several years after I knew him. I never heard the N word more than I did in Rexburg. In the first month I heard probably more than in my whole life before that. I told him I don't like it and he was good enough that he watched his tongue when he was around me and hopefully he improved on it with other people. He was born in Nashville, he came to Idaho as a boy, but his dad, for like all the time Jimmy was growing up until he got married, every summer they'd go back to Nashville. Second nature with him, like your dad. MY: It has to do with where you grow up. My mother grew up in Colorado. Her and her friend were the only white girls in their class, most of them were Mexican. So my mom was more open to you know, culture. FY: Pass that picture over LR: So moving on to a little more happy things, I was wondering if you had any more stories about 25th street you'd like to share? Cause I mean you've done a good job and you've been talking for almost two hours. 28 FY: I have? LR: I don't know if you realize that. FY: No, but I get wound up. See we've digressed. LR: And that's okay. So I was just wondering if you had any other stories or memories of 25th street you'd like to share? FY: Well I told you about my wife and the egg foo yung. LR: When she was pregnant? FY: Now those were the days when they made real egg foo yung, not this crap they're making now. It's like some kind of a mush. MY: I don't know what it is FY: Anyway I was telling Lorrie, many a morning at 1 or 2:00, the only place open, go to the China Temple. I'd take a sauce pan cause you didn't have takeout boxes like you do now. I'd go get egg foo yung. Well my kid was like I don't know a year old, just starting to talk, I don't know how old they are when they start. Anyhow I had some business at the Greyhound Depot where they had the bus. The buses used to have express and I had some business there and I parked and it was diagonal parking. She was there in the front seat with the kid and I said, "I'll be right out." When I come out she's laughing. Now she could laugh, she turned me the wrong way on a one way street once and a cop pulled me over MY: All she could do was laugh. 29 FY: All she could do. All I could say, "She told me to turn," that's another family story. She knows what's coming. Well anyhow I come out and she's laughing and I said, "What happened?" She said, "See that Chinese fellow going by?" "The Chinese guy?" "Yeah. Well when he went by he said dada." Anyhow now you've heard the story of my life maybe. I don't know about 25th street, spent many a night down there after partying I can tell you that. Sober up at the China Temple. LR: That seemed to be the, well it was always open so that was the spot. FY: Well I can tell you about 24th street. MJ: What was on 24th street? FY: Well I'll tell you about getting from 25th to 24th. On Lincoln, 25th and Lincoln, there's a hotel, used to be a stop on the Bamberger. They had a sign up, but in there Harry the Tailor had a tailor shop in one of those little stores. Harry was from Armenia or some Middle Eastern country and he was a hell of a good, old bachelor. He had a barber shop, I mean a tailor shop. Anyhow we'd go up to Grant and you went past the hotel and in the middle of the block was Johnny Marsh's, the bug man, he was a pest control guy. John Marsh, and he had a sign, bughouse with a caterpillar on the top. I wonder what ever happened to that sign. Wonder if someone has it in their basement or out in a barn? 30 Then there seems to me like there was a big green building, concrete or masonry or something. Was like a wholesale, it was a pale green. Anyhow there was also a place in there, we all thought it was the Chinese lottery. It was a store front and they had like teller windows in there. It was Chinese and I don't know, might have been some kind of a thrift club or business. We all thought it was a Chinese lottery where you went in, but every time I went by the door was open, but I never saw anyone in there. That was the story that it was a Chinese lottery. Over on 24th street and there's an empty lot now next to the Berthana, used to be the Dinner Horn, was a grocery store. Then going west there was a gas station and when that folded it turned into a locksmith and Lester Pelton learned his business. MY: Wasn't it Vicks? FY: Was it Vicks? MY: I think it was Vicks. FY: It was a—they had a locksmith in there and this kid we know learned his trade in there. Next was the Grant Hotel and Grant Tap Room. Japanese, lot of Japanese in there. Then next was Minnie, don't know her last name, she was a barber. She came and interned during the war and she was a Buddhist. She played a mean poker game and she made a mean stir fry. She used to invite us out to the Buddhist festival every year. Next was Sakarada Fish Market. Then there was HJ Bonnie, turkey broker, and he raised turkeys. Now in those days where Wal-Mart is on 21st, 20th, there was a turkey processor there. Bonnie had an interest in that or maybe it was his. Then they turned it into a cold storage and then tore it down 31 for Wal-Mart. Then there was Richard's Sheet Metal—had apartments. We had one and the reason we had one well we had a little dog, little Corgi. Familiar with a Corgi? LR: No. FY: Queen Elizabeth raises Corgies, little. That nice place on 24th and Monroe that's supposed to be a Frank Lloyd Wright house, that was an apartment house. They wouldn't rent us an apartment cause we had a little dog. We lived at Richard's until we could find a place and parked in the back 50 bucks a month, everything but lights. Hot water, heat. LR: Wow, all for 50 bucks a month. FY: Then across the street the motel is still there. Now they call it the Westward Ho or something. Down on the corner where the old shaver mart is, Bob Hinds, H-I-N- D-S had a Conoco Station. Next to Richard's there was a lumber yard, don't remember the name, but I think it began with a B. MY: Burton, was it Burton's? FY: Could be. MY: Burton had a lumber place. FY: I can't remember what was next down to the corner. But Crittenden Paint still there, that building's still there. That restaurant I guess that's been a restaurant for a million years. Then you came up 24th street you had the Dinner Horn, you had the Berthana, there was a bar in there. MY: The Lighthouse Lounge. 32 FY: That was it, The Lighthouse huh? Okay. Good timing for your visit here. Then you hit Kiesel and the Kiesel Building, there were two dentists in there. I knew—I mean there might have been more but there were two dentists and they would cover each other. So I knew both, one was Reuben Clark who was kind of a milk toast type guy. You know milktoast? Well see years ago there was a comic strip called Milquetoast, also at that time was Maggie and Jiggs and the Toonerville Trolley, see that dates me. What you gals got to do is start looking up some of this stuff because Toonerville Trolley had a guy on there, they called it Terrible Temper Mr. Bang and he was always mad. I have a son who we referred to occasionally as "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," cause he can talk himself into a mad and we'd say, "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," he has no idea what we are talking about. Anyhow the other guy was something Turner. Anyhow he used to be an engineer and then decided he wanted to be a dentist and as much as Reuben Clark was a milktoast he was the macho. I mean he'd cuss a blue streak if he had to, you know, something went wrong. He told a story once about—he was hunting and he'd go working up this sidehill and he gets to the top, and there's some guy there laying on the ground and looking over at things. He says, "I told him that was a hell of a climb." He says, "Yeah, I noticed you had a little bit of a problem here and there. I had you in my scope all the time." He said, "You had me in your scope?" "Yeah," he said. 33 "Is that gun loaded?" He says, "Yeah," He said, "I beat the crap out of him." That's the kind— LR: Well I can understand that. FY: Reuben Clark to quote my wife, "he wouldn't say it if he had a mouthful." Then across the street was the Finer Foods Café and next to it was the Finer Tap Room. If you went down the café, they were narrow. They went down toward the kitchen, there was a door that took you into the Tap Room. Then at the Eccles Building up on the corner was a Walgreen's. MY: Cause the door you went in on the corner. FY: See Walgreen's. MY: They had a little lunch counter. LR: Is this on Grant then? FY: Well every drug store had a counter. MY: No it'd be on Washington. FY: Washington, under the Eccles Building. There's a hotel there now. Walgreen's always had a corner. They had a place across from that Crossroads Mall. First night in Salt Lake I had a cup of coffee right across the street from the temple. I flew out, stewardess is telling me all about the Salt Lake and the Mormons and they don't drink and they don't smoke. I spent the night in Salt Lake so I'd catch the bus the next day to Logan cause I was going to school up there. I walk 34 around, first thing I stay at that little hotel, it's on South Temple between Main and State and it's still there. Just little cozy, I don't know 8 or 10 rooms, it's probably a fancy apartment house now. Anyhow I walked in, walked around, typical Walgreen's. They sold cigarettes and cigars and pipe tobacco and coffee and they had a lunch counter and people sitting there smoking and drinking coffee. Then I walked around and ran into two cigar stores within a couple of blocks and I'm wondering what is she talking about? Anyhow I had her phone number and I called her. Tried to set up a date. MJ: No luck? FY: No, you know why? I wasn't Mormon. Well I sort of learned how it worked. It took me a while, but anyhow that was my introduction to Utah. It was a DC 3 and one of the two roughest places to fly in the country is Denver to Salt Lake and the other one is from Washington D.C. somewhere over the Appalachians I can't remember. Anyhow D.C. 3 21 passengers, it was full, served us a nice meal and then we hit the turbulence. The stewardess comes by, got plenty of food if you want it. God I could smell this puke. God that was a rough trip. MY: Now what did you start up at? FY: 46. So anyhow let's see we were on 24th street. You had the First Security Bank and across the street was W.T. Grant, pink sandstone, a red sandstone. My father-in-law helped build that and he said they poured concrete with wheelbarrows and they went up wheelbarrow at a time. Then that became ZCMI. 35 LR: There was a ZCMI in Ogden? MY: Right where the Weber place is. FY: They had a walkway over to the mall over Nordstrom's. LR: When was the ZCMI in Ogden? FY: Well I'm looking at that Ogden Hikes thing and the J.C. Penney building was ZCMI and then they, I guess shut down and left. Then came back after W.T. Grant. See 24th, Washington Boulevard between 25th and 24th street you had— MY: L.R. Samuel's. FY: Aurbach's. MY: Well L.R. Samuels to begin with. FY: Yeah, then Aurbach's. MY: Then Freddy Aurbach married the Samuels girl. FY: Then you had there was a men's store next to the— MY: Fred M. Nye? FY: No I'm talking on the west side. There was—I got a suit hanging in the closet I think came from them. Next to the bank, next between the bank and the Egyptian or the other side of the Egyptian, anyhow you had Keeley's Restaurant. MY: Smalley's Jewelry was right by the bank. FY: The men's store was probably on the north side of the bank. Anyhow you had restaurants and on the other side you had Nye's and when they closed I think 36 that's when Buehler Dunn, and Branz opened. You had Blocks in there, Blocks was an Idaho, small Idaho chain. Very upscale and kind of a department store, mostly men. Then when you went over to J.C. Penney you had Payless Drug and you could get in from Kiesel. Then you had in a row you had Newberry's, Woolworth and Grant, no W.T. Grant was across the street. Woolworth, Kresge three 5 and dimes, then there were assorted businesses. MY: Skagg's was downtown. FY: Well that was Payless. Ensign Drug was along in there. Every drug store had a lunch counter. MJ: Oh we are just about, the battery is just about out. FY: You want to plug in? MJ: Yeah. FY: There's a plug in. Marva, MY: Is it in the bedroom? FY: Yeah, one in the bedroom there. MJ: Most of the time I just plug it in automatically, but I thought we'd be okay with the battery cause it was just charged. FY: Then you went down the end of the block was Sear's. They had on the Kiesel Avenue side an auto, 3 bay auto. They changed oil and stuff like that. They moved and that was the end of the downtown. Cross from Sear's you had Firestone, had a big store, I think it's a bank now. 37 MY: It's Zion's Bank. FY: Then across the street was Reliable Furniture. Was it Reliable? MY: There was a Reliable. You know who owned Reliable? Herscowitz, Sam Herscowitz because my mom worked for his wife when he and his brother owned Reliable Furniture. FY: Well it became then Wolfe Sporting Goods and next to the Firestone store that would be on the east side between 23rd and 24th coming south, was Madsen Furniture. That dinet set came from Madsen Furniture when we were living up on Binford. My kids were in high school, that has to be over 40 years and I refuse to buy a new one. My sister has for years said, "Why don't you know it's wearing out." She insisted my mother buy a new coat and she died. She insisted her husband buy a new suit, he says no way Jose. He said, "Looked what happened to your mother," and that's why I won't buy a new dinette, cause the odds—the longer I wait the odds get better, but yeah that was Madsen Furniture. MY: Sav On was down there, Sav On Sporting Goods. FY: Well on 24th now, let's go. MY: But it was between 22nd and 23rd. FY: Let's go down 24th street now from W. T. Grant, cross the street J. C. Penney. Next door was I think Klenke, K-L-E-N-K-E Hardware. MJ: Were they connected to Klenke Floral? FY: I don't know. 38 MY: I have no idea. FY: But this old guy and his daughter ran that store. I think when they wrecked that they probably destroyed it. What a store, they had a ladder on a truck. Bins all the way to the ceiling and if you went in there for like a number 10 flathead screw they—everything came bulk in those days. If you went in and asked for whatever, they could go get it and they knew where it was, they'd move the ladder, climb up, open the drawer. Great. Then there was a Haberdasher open on the corner later. Can't remember his name, but then cross the street was Read Brothers, big place, but with a horse on top. Now I'm going to tell you, I don't know if you know about the horse. Some guy one night climbed up there somehow painted that black horse brown. That horse was black, it was patterned or supposed to have been a replica of a famous Ogden horse called Old Nig. Does that tell you anything? It's a black horse, Old Nig. Then next to that was, there was—later on it became Sunset Sporting Goods, but next to that was Kammeyer's, had the big old wooden gun out front. Remember that? No pictures of that? They had a big rifle made out of wood it was about, god, had to be 6 or 8 feet. Kammeyer's Sporting Goods and then next was the church. Kammeyer's, I think one of those boys became an obstetrician/gynecologist here in Ogden, working. Dr. Kammeyer. Then there was the church, then across the street was the post office. Now it you went south from the Dinner Horn there was the Bamboo Noodle, good place. Then you came to Dokas's, and then there was a building there, old brick building that had tile. 39 Had a garage door and tile, blue and white, but I used to call bathroom tile. It was that little hex and in the middle of that white, Browning. LR: So that's on, I actually know where this building is. That's the one on Grant. MY: So the Federal Building— LR: In between 24th? FY: 24th/23rd. Well it's on the east side of 24th or the east side of Grant and north of 24th. See we started at the Dinner Horn which was on 24th, now wait a minute. MY: Wasn't that Browning next to where the Federal Building is? FY: Yeah MY: The Federal Building's here and then you go north on Grant and Browning's was right there. LR: Well there were two Browning buildings. They kind of faced—their backs were to each other. One was on Kiesel and one was on Grant. So the one you're talking about? FY: Has to be on 24th then, between 24th and 23rd MY: No it was 24th and 25th. FY: It has to be 24th/25th because the church is on 24th going to 23rd. Dokas was in there somewhere and there was— MY: It was Browning and then Dokas. FY: There was a commercial building with a garage door. 40 LR: That's the one on Grant. FY: Yeah and it had, in front of the door, it had an apron. Blue trim, it was oblong and it had blue edging and a white—in the white it said Browning and it was that tile, that little 6 sided tile. LR: You'll be happy to know that they actually restored that building and that's still there, that tile. FY: It is? I have to go down and somehow, but hell you know I can't walk anymore. MY: We'll have to get you a chair. LR: The one on Kiesel it's long gone. FY: Yeah that's where Pete found the Browning workshop and gave it to the Depot. Now I was in Nauvoo and I saw the old original Browning workshop, had a personal tour of that building. They've done great work with it, with Nauvoo. I stopped there, I was on this spot and I had some neighbors who were doing a mission there. I found them, funny I'm living in Rexburg and I pull in to Nauvoo, and that's way before the temple was restored and all that, and I'm looking around and there's a few buildings here and there. I see a couple of people raking leaves in front of this brick building and it turns out to be their headquarters or office or something. I pulled up and I hollered out the window, "Hello there!" The lady comes over I say, "I'm looking for the Cazier, would you know where they are?" She says, "I don't know where they are, but wait a minute," and she walked in and come out with a binder, everybody's schedule. "Well he's down at 41 the blacksmith shop and she's over at the tinkers place." So she directs me and I got down to the blacksmith shop and I walked in on a presentation. Anyway after the presentation they handed out horseshoe nail rings to the kids and I said to Gale, "Geez, can I have one of those? I had one when I was a kid," and I got that somewhere. I looked at it not too long ago here. Anyhow I said, "I used to have one," so he gave it to me and I wore and I stopped on that trip, I stopped in Cheyenne and my brother was there. I was telling him, I said, "Here's what I brought." Bill looks at it, says, "Gee I had one of them when I was a kid." Every kid had one of them cause they had blacksmith and they still had some horses around. Anyhow they just bent a nail around a pipe, but anyhow I have that ring somewhere and it's been 15 years ago since I got that. I visit with Gale and I said, "Where's Yvonne?" He says, "She's over at the tinkers I'll take you," so we go over to the tinkers. She says she's embarrassed standing there with cue cards, 3 by 5 cards. "I just got assigned here yesterday, this is my first day. Up until now I was over at the Browning workshop." She was nervous as all get out. I said, "Well I'll tell you what Yvonne, I'm alone nothing to worry about you know me, be comfortable, make your pitch." She went through it, had to make a few references and she says, "Well that wasn't so hard." Anyhow then she took me over to the Browning place, just 42 the two of us, and they got us in there and out in the garden—a lot of these places they'd planted gardens. Tomato plants, lettuce, eggplant you know and they feed themselves. I mean they had these gardens and they keeps the weeds down and all these missionaries have fresh produce all through the summer. Then they took me—I had a little personal tour, saw a few things that most visitors don't get to see, but doing a bang up job. They have a land office and I didn't understand the land office until I left. I had another neighbor, who was a day behind me and when he came back we got comparing notes. The land office has the original plans of Nauvoo, and if you tell them who you're interested in—My wife's great grandfather, I got a deed or not a deed but a copy of a deed and a location on the town plat of where he lived and he lived about two blocks from Joseph Smith. Now it's right downtown, Nauvoo. A lot of motels and souvenir shops, but the rest of it, they're doing a bang up job. What's not there anymore, right across the street on the corner from the old temple, was the headquarters of the reorganized church. The church finally bought them out a few years ago, but they had a nice modern brick building and they were on one corner. This office I stopped at was just up on the other block on another corner and they've restored the temple. I was able to see where the fount was, they had a well in there and some of those sunstones were still laying around. Anyhow I don't know if we got off subject. LR: It's okay. I hate to be the one to say put the brakes out, but you've worn me out. I was worried about wearing you out and you've done the exact opposite. I haven't had lunch yet. 43 FY: Well I'll tell you what. I've got a pot of lentils and I'll be glad to share them because I hate leftovers. LR: Ok. For not being an Ogden native you sure know a lot about the buildings, why is that? FY: Cause I like history. See I took a course at Weber State one time on Utah history and it was taught by this Hispanic fellow. I don't remember his name now. Anyhow I can tell you about places wherever I've gone see. I can tell you things. I lived in Star Valley for a while. I know where the old Oregon Trail passed through the valley. I can take you there, I'm sure it's still there. I think if they widened the road they went that a way see. I followed Louis and Clark from St. Louis to Fort Clatsop, except where you had to go on a boat. Through Nebraska and that country there, there's not much to see, but from Fort Mandin all over, pretty much all of it. I've been to Lemhi Pass, I got the journals here, I read it and copied the original journals, I've seen them. God they're great big I don't know how many. I have my brother, one brother, he found some old 16 mm movies that we had when we were kids and he gave them to a guy and he was able to salvage about 15 or 20 minutes. Some are home movies, some are old movies that we used to buy. You know we had no TV and I had a crank that you could buy things. Saw Felix the Cat and few things. Got all of that on DVD. Wherever I've gone, I know the history from where I was born. I know see I grew up in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia was 90 miles away. When I moved to California for a couple of years, I'd been on most every mission from San Diego to Sonoma. Some of them weren't much but wrecks when I saw them and now 44 most of them have been restored, but I went to that mission in Carmel. I'm shocked, got a big sign about Father Serra saying mass on the 4th of July, 1776. That was an enlightenment, I knew July 4th Philadelphia, the Liberty Bell you know. Same time the Spanish were out there, they're planting gardens and converting the natives. So I can tell you a lot about California and I can tell you about the Civil War. What I should have been is a historian. Start of Part II, July 23, 2013. FY: I'd like to start. We were on 24th street, we talked about Kammeyer's and the big gun out front, the sign? LR: Yes we did. FY: Smith and Edward's bought Kammeyer's. If you got in touch with Bert Smith I bet you could find that gun. LR: Is he still alive? FY: Oh yeah. 93 years old and he's alive. In fact he gave a presentation on the avenging Angel, what's his name? Porter Rockwell, to a group it was in the paper like I don't know month, six weeks ago. So he's alive and well. He bought Kammeyer's and he owned it when they shut it down. Bet that sign is out there at Smith and Edward's or maybe at his home or somewhere. I'm sure—not Bert he wouldn't throw it away. You know he bought the old Swift building. LR: Where you used to work? 45 FY: 60,000 bucks he paid for that old place and he told me he said, "I feel good. When I feel good about a deal it means I made a good deal." Hell he probably got his 60,000 bucks back just in the salvage on the first month or so. Cause he opened it, he rented different parts, he put holes in the wall and gave access. He rented out the garage and he punched a hole in the wall and the curing cellars became—the last I saw it a guy was selling boats in there. I don't know if he sold them or maintained them or he had a dealership or something. He sold two new boilers. They'd brought in the newest boiler was probably a year old, the other one probably two or three years old. Probably got 60 grand right there. LR: So where was the Swift building? FY: Just across the yards on 24th. Hey there's some great pictures in here and we're going to go through these pictures. FY: Anyhow here's a picture of 25th street [Frank is looking at pictures from Ogden City: It's Government Legacy]. See in the 20s there were trolley cars. LR: But that's not the Bamberger? FY: No that's a trolley car, that's a city system and I read in here what I didn't know. They had six routes. You know I told you my father-in-law used to drive one of them. That's how come my wife was born at the Cobble Cottage in 1927 cause he was down here, He was down here driving. Anyhow they had six routes, 24 miles. I didn't knowhit was that extensive, but there's the Healy Hotel and here's that building that's still here. Anyhow the Royal Hotel used to be the Arcadia. 46 LR: So here's a question for you and maybe you know. I've always thought that Porter's and Waiter's wasn't its own individual building. That it was underneath— FY: It was the downstairs. It was a bar and it was an afterhours club and there was like a shooting or knifing about twice a week in there. Now I never went in the place when it was that, but you know the guy that went up on the roof to look over at the sunbathers, he used to go in there frequently. The upstairs was the hotel and they catered to the black employees from the railroad which were mostly porters and waiters. See the dining cars—all the waiters were black, stewards were white. So when you gave an order in the dining car you wrote it out from the menu and they filled the order then they brought you the bill and you gave them the money and the steward handled all the money. Now those people—Ogden was a junction see between [audio missing]. LR: Hopefully it will be in business now. FY: Okay we were talking about the porters and waiters. Ogden was the—I don't remember what they used to call it. It was the end of the run, see they changed crews and these guys had to have a place to stay. We talked about the situation and there's a picture in here of Read's with the horse up on top. I was told by someone that horse is out on west 12th street in front of some veterinary's place. Anyhow they called the place the porters and waiters club and in fact in those days 25th street—this tells after it got cleaned up it went downhill fast just like I was telling you. Lot of transients moved in and there's a picture in here of the old Shupe Williams candy factory. I'd forgotten about that, it's on 26th and Wall. Big four story, they were a big candy company and they shut down I don't know. 47 They were running when I came and then some transients got in there as usually happens, burned the damn place down. Directly north now we're talking on the west side of Wall Avenue, directly north across 26th street was the old Union Pacific Laundry. Well when the trains quit running they didn't need the laundry anymore. Then next to that was railway express agency. You remember the railway express wagons with the great big wheels? I'm sure they have one or two at the depot. They were baggage carts. They met the trains and they'd off load baggage and freight. They were huge wheels, and you know guys would pull them by hand or push them. Those buildings are gone and then on the other side was the freight station, that's gone too. Now across the street we got the Healy Hotel identified and well we'll go around the corner. There was a place called Ketchum Builder's Supply and a big one story low building. I can remember driving down there for something on a Saturday when the Teton Dam broke cause I listened to it on the radio. I had no idea about where it was or what it was, but geez you know that was 1976. What is that now? Pushing 50 years, 45/40. LR: Yeah 45. FY: So how time flies. That buildings gone. Next to this was Goddard's. Goddard was an industrial supply. The brick building is still there. Next was Scowcroft's on Wall Avenue. LR: heading towards 26th? 48 FY: Heading towards 24th. We're going around the corner from the Healy. It was Ketchum, then Goddard, then Scowcroft. Scowcroft was a big whole sale—dry goods and food wholesaler. I think they've saved that building, I think it's on the national historic register. What I remember about it last time I saw it, they had that you could still see the advertising on the outside. They made overalls, now you've heard of Osh Kosh B'Gosh? Well they had Can't Bust 'em, that was their brand. One of the Scowcroft's if he's still alive, the General Scowcroft used to be an intelligence guy for George, first George Bush. Brent Scowcroft he was born here. He's a Scowcroft from that family and that building I think has been restored. Now it's cross the street from the Transit you know. The railroad, frontrunner, depot the travel. What do they call it? LR: The park and ride FY: You know and they have the buses. Then you come up 24th street and I think Anderson Lumber was in there. See now you're under the viaduct and you're now coming up the south side of 24th street to Wall Avenue. Now we're at Lincoln and we're going backwards up from that lumber company, Richard's, the turkey guy, the fish market, the Grant tap, and then the Dinner Horn. Now go across the street to the church and start going east, that's where you ran into Kammeyer's, next to the church. Then Sunset Sporting Goods was in there but there was something before that I don't recall. Then you ran into Read, leather people. Then you crossed Kiesel and it was a couple of businesses and the hardware store I told you about and J.C. Penney's, which according to this book, used to be ZCMI before 1900. Now cross Washington 49 Boulevard there was the W. T. Grant and you went up the hill to St. Joseph's Church and look at this picture. This I think is 24th street, there's the bend on 24th, freeway is out here and see here's a spur. That's the one that goes up to the elevators. There's packing house, there's the big livestock pavilion and here's the stock yards. LR: So this is where they would do the auctions? FY: Yeah, and that's where they had the stock show. See and here's the viaduct. LR: So this would be Union Station? FY: No the Union Station would be over here. LR: Oh this is 24th okay. FY: It'd be around here, 25th would be up here. That's 24th, that's got to be stairs to the station. LR: Well if the freeway is over here 25th has to be right here. FY: Oh no, the other way, okay you're right. LR: You can actually see where it ends right there. FY: I was going the wrong direction. LR: This is Wall and that's 25th and that looks like the Ben Lomond. FY: And the depot would be over here. I don't know when they viaduct was built but there's an interesting picture in here that has a Grandview Acres. This was war housing. They were two story duplexes, still around I think. They were at about 38th and Quincy or somewhere and there was a lady lived downstairs, her 50 grandfather used to manage that place. We were talking one time and I said I probably knew him because my wife and I looked out there to buy one of those duplexes. I guess it's still there, but there's another small world story see. Now see here's this, here's another picture. Like on the cover, here's 24th street, there's that big bend and here's where Del Monte was. LR: The Cannery? FY: The elevators were here. The packing house and the yards. Now in this picture the viaduct was there. Now there's the Broom Hotel which was built about 1880 something and this was 1920, a war parade. But you look at it you notice all the window blinds are even. You know it was in great shape. Well when they finally tore it down, had to be around 1960 or late 50s it was pretty decrepit. LR: It didn't look nearly as good? FY: It was kind of just abandoned and they built the bank. Oh here, here's one. Here's Washington boulevard, you remember I told you, see this is before the Ben Lomond, but there's the Orpheum theater. LR: See I thought the Orpheum was on 25th street. FY: No, the Orpheum was right there next to Ben Lomond. It's a state office building now. This was the old city hall, I don't remember that but anyhow remember I told you about the shoe store, right there. And these two little buildings between were there in the 70s. LR: now it's a parking lot. 51 FY: Yeah, next to the hotel. But there's visual evidence and you can—St. Joseph back in the 20s, that's also on the historic register. LR: Well it sounds like you enjoyed skimming through that. FY: Oh here, Sacred Heart Academy. I mentioned the girls school, 25th and Quincy. The nuns ran this and really some of these details I picked—they had 600 boarding students, all girls and every prominent Mormon pretty much sent their girls to St. Anne's for their education. It was the place, but what I found interesting in here is these nuns were from St. Mary's in South Bend, Indiana. There was a college there, St. Mary's College. You see now I got to look this up. Is Notre Dame what used to be St. Mary's College? I'm talking back 1878 when the nuns first came here see. That's how things build. They came out—St. Joseph's Catholic School, oldest school continuing in the whole state—started 1878 by these nuns on the corner. Now according to this, Utah Bank, Bank of Utah, southwest corner of 26th and Washington, anyhow they tore that down and we talked about this yesterday. Remember we talked about all the doctors who were downtown, mostly in the First Security Building. Well when they abandoned the school somebody got in there and turned it into a professional mall and that's when the doctors started leaving and getting spread around town. Which was another stake in the heart of downtown because that had to be, it's in here somewhere, 1960 or something like that. So those are some of the details. Here's Weber College, when the church gave it to the state. I understand they tore that building down. Now why the hell would they tear that down? 52 LR: It's the American mentality unfortunately. FY: Now stands an empty lot there. The city school district, Ogden City School District got this property and their offices there; it's on, what is it, Adams and 26th or something? I think it's across from the forest service. Anyhow the building on the corner is still there, but this was next and it's gone. LR: But the one with the WC on the façade? FY: I think. LR: I've driven past it a couple of times, they're doing some work on it right now. FY: Well anyhow there's the Shupe Williams Candy Company. LR: And this is the one on Wall and? FY: 26th. Now see that was on the southwest corner, now you're coming this way on Wall. You cross the street here and you ran into the Union Pacific Laundry and now that's where they have some of those old cars. Now transients burned this thing down. Now they're doing the same thing, I see in the paper they had a couple of fires this winter. They have a couple of old wooden railroad cars down there they got for restoration and they've run transients out because they've set them on fire trying to keep warm. That's what burned down that grocery store and I think the name was Nicholas, the grocer. Nicholas Grocer. LR: That actually makes sense, I recall that name. FY: During that period when 25th street was skid row, lot of those upstairs, you know they were a lot of hotels and rooming houses and stuff. Some old wino got cold in the middle of the night and lit a fire under the sink and burned the damn place 53 down. What I'm trying to find is that picture of the bridges across the Weber River down by the packing house. In here they mentioned Clix. LR: Is that a gas station? FY: Well Clix, his name was Clarence Swanner and he had a gas station on 26th and Grant I think it was. Northeast corner, Clicks Service. How come you're familiar with Clix Service? LR: I interviewed a gentleman whose grandfather owned it originally and sold it to the Swanners. FY: Well Clicks died at a 103 and he's mentioned in here playing cards or playing marbles on 25th street when he was a kid. Well see when he was a kid, he was probably born1895 or something, and so when he was playing marbles down there it was probably pretty much like the rest of Ogden, just rough frontier town. Here's a picture of the yards. I'll tell you what I did. I called my kid up last night and I went through this with him. LR: Would that be Marva's husband? FY: Yeah, cause we talked about these places. See there's the viaduct, don't know when that was built. This is 29th street, here's the elevators on 29th. You know where you go around them when you get on the freeway you go down 30th. These are the elevators see. That's 29th street LR: So this would be the station here? FY: No this is the Ice House and this here is where they, used to ice the reefers. LR: So where's the station? 54 FY: I can remember when they used to do that. LR: Ice the reefers? FY: Refrigerated cars had ice. Both ends had bunkers with hatches on the top and they'd run these refrigerated cars down there and they'd put ice out of the Ice House and they had a belt would run the ice. Guys would walk along the train, lift the hatch if they needed ice, they'd throw in a couple of 100 pound blocks and they iced every refrigerated train that went through here. Then they went to mechanical refrigeration and they tore this out, but the Ice House is still there. Here's 24th street, so the depot has got to be over and around here somewhere, but look at all the trackage. There was a Y out here. Train coming in from the east would pull into the station and then when it was leaving for the west it would back out and that Y is gone long time ago. See when I first came this was all active, there's the Southern Pacific Roundhouse. I had a neighbor, was a Southern Pacific engineer, and oh there's the old Bamberger train, probably at Lagoon. Here's the stock yards. Now see there's the packing house, just started out as American, as Ogden Packing, then went to American Packing and Provision then Swift bought them in 1949. LR: So that's where you worked? FY: Yeah and this was the ramp where they drove the livestock and here's these two bridges and I'm trying to find the picture. We were talking about Clix, he remembered when they put that bridge in and the bridge is still there and it's got a plaque on it, who built it, who installed it, when they installed it, all that information. Here it is, see. Now this was taken—there's no viaduct and the 55 packing house was probably in there somewhere maybe at this time it was probably pretty small. Here's the railroad bridge, this is the bridge Clix remembers when they installed it. It's over the Weber River and on this side of it there's a plague and you can still see it. Here's the road bridge that goes out Wilson Lane, that took you—see on this picture 24th street see came across and there's Wilson Lane and here's that spur that comes up to the elevators. So I don't know when they built the viaduct, but prior to that you had to cross the tracks and I imagine like on most railroad crossing back in those days that they'd have a guy come out with a sign, stop traffic while the trains went by. LR: Getting back to 24th street, did we finish 24th street then? FY: Yeah I think we did. Now we could go around the corner on 24th and Lincoln and go to the Iron Works, Ogden Iron Works is now where the ballpark is. The Ogden Iron Works was big, now I didn't notice anything in there, I could've missed it. By then it got pretty extensive. But I think they had something to do with the Golden Gate bridge, it was fabricated, all types of steel and stuff. That was going and the can company was going and Del Monte was going and the packing houses, we had three of them and they were all going. The railroads, you know things were booming. This was a going town and it distresses me to go downtown, I drive down 24th street. The First Security Banks empty, the Wells Fargo cross the street big signs space to let, and you go down where the church tore down and the old Travelodge hotel/motel all that's empty space. Then you go over here by Rite Aid down on 24th street, well kiddy-corner to Rite Aid is old Wheelwright Lumber, all abandoned. See it used to be 56 lumberyards were downtown, Anderson Lumber was down there and Wheelwright was there just on Adams or Monroe, somewhere in there. That place we talked about, I can't remember what Marva called it. LR: Burton. FY: Burton, that was downtown. The town I come from up in Rexburg, Boise, Cascade, still right downtown. Anderson Lumber left, but that's the way it was. All this space, there's urban blight, we got it. Now what they're starting to do, I read it and I see it, they've done some preliminary work. The city is going to open Fowler Avenue between 24th and 23rd and they're going to put 28 homes in the middle of that block. They've already cut down all the trees and I think the power company's run a couple of lines in. Then you know they have historic districts now and I can remember, that was probably 20 years ago, when they were selling homes to somebody for a buck or 100 bucks, for very little money if you'd restore them. Some of those neighborhoods are starting to come back, but lots of empty places. You go down on Washington Boulevard, lot of places they got business, strip malls. You know they got some of these big buildings, you see them advertising like stock broker, 24 or something suite 8. Well those were all big stores and businesses and there's a picture in here of 25th and Washington. LR: While you're looking let me ask you a question. So with the railroad stopping in the 70s, you talked about how it just kind of died. What do you think is bringing it back? Is helping it kind of become more of the city, the industrial, not industrial. You know what I'm trying to ask? I don't think I'm doing a very good job. 57 FY: I don't think it's coming back that fast. See it was diverse, Riverdale was all farms. You had, like everybody else you had urban sprawl. Everybody wanted to move out. Well that's bad but then when the businesses start moving out which is what happened with the Newgate Mall. When Stephen Dirks—he was talking about a mall before the Newgate Mall. They all downplayed it in the council chamber I guess. When they started Sear's was already gone, Woolworth's was already gone and probably several other places were gone. See you had there on one block, these were all like five and dime stores: W. T. Grant, you had Woolworth, Kresge, Newberry, I'm missing one. They were all there between 24th and 23rd on Washington. Then down—you know it had all kinds of stores. Cross's Western Wear was down there, we mentioned Reliable Furniture which later became Wolf. LR: You mentioned Reliable Furniture, yes. Isn't that where you got your— FY: No that's Madsen. Now Madsen is gone, they're gone but they're still in Salt Lake. I see them advertised on TV, Madsen Furniture. We were talking about that dinette set, over 40 years old and I'm still here and that's still here and Madsen's gone. Then, just come to mind. I think it was right next to the Episcopal Church. J.W. Brewer, tire company. I think he was on Grant. LR: He had a brief stint in the Browning Building, the one on Kiesel. It was only for a year and it was— FY: He sold appliances in there and I knew the guy who ran it, Sandy. Anyhow he ended up he was managing the Ben Lomond Hotel for a while and Cal Rampton was governor. When Cal Rampton would come to Ogden they'd take a room for 58 him there and Sandy what the hell was his name? He stocked it with a corncob pipe and some tobacco for the governor. It will come to me about 1:00 in the morning, but then he ran J. W. Brewer's I think, before he managed the hotel. He was on—I remember the store, it was a big store, J. W. Brewer tire. For a while he was like, not Les Schwab cause he's too big, but like Jack's Tire out of Logan. See Jack's Tire started in Logan, got a big place here and I don't know, they probably got a few others. J. W. Brewer had a couple, 3 locations and he was starting to build—I don't know whatever happened, but he was on Kiesel or Grant north of 24th I think. I remember the big store, big glass front. That was way before Big O, but there was a Firestone Store, that was his competitor. They were on 23rd and Washington, across from Reliable. Then I think Dar Larsen and a bunch of guys started a bank and their office was just up the hill from Washington on 23rd or 22nd and I can't remember the name of the bank, but they went defunct. Dar Larsen was Pepsi Cola. LR: That plant was on? FY: 17th and Washington. LR: I thought they had one on 25th street, the PepsiCo plant. I could be wrong. FY: Well they're going to tear that place down. It's now—I don't know what it is now— but it was a disco. It's right there by the river and they're going to tear it down. City is going to sell it to 7-11, they're going to put a 7-11 store there. Anyhow he and a bunch of guys started a bank and I can't remember what they called it, but it fizzled. I didn't recall seeing that in here, course I did a lot of skipping when it 59 looked familiar. Their office was just up the hill from Washington, somewhere on the north side of 23rd or 22nd, probably 23rd street. Standard Examiner was up on Adams and I think 23rd, that's where it was when Abe Glassman was running it. He had a farm that's now Smith's out on 41st and Harrison, that was the Glassman farm. For years they held out, they were developing all around and Glassman, I don't know he had about 40 acres in there, all gone. LR: I guess I should mention that I wanted you to talk about Kramer's, Kramer's Hot Dogs. I've heard a lot about it and would love to get your take. FY: It was, I don't know maybe the front end of a private home, but you walked up on the sidewalk and there was a window, Kramer's Hot Dogs and Hamburgers. The synagogue's in there, they must still have a synagogue in town, on 27th something Grant. Well that was about next door to Kramer's. Yeah they served— then further down was Utah Bottling where when they quit bottling they served beer and now I think there's apartments back in there. I can remember when they served schooners. Yeah I had more than one in there, nice cool plenty of parking. Kramer's was just a walk up storefront, it was—I mean there's the sidewalks and there's all the buildings, the fronts. It was Kramer's and it had a big window and you bought a hot dog or a hamburger and they were good. LR: Would you call them the best in town? FY: Well I don't recall, but there weren't many place to eat hamburgers as hamburger joints until about late 60s. They opened a place between 24th and 25th on the 60 east side, I think they called it the Burger Chalet. It wasn't like all those—narrow deep and you walked in, they had a telephone at each booth. You'd pick up the phone and place your order to the kitchen and that was there for several years. I remember when the first McDonald's opened, it was out across from Weber High School which was on about 11th and Washington Boulevard. It had the golden arches and hamburgers were 15 cents. Swift's supplied the burgers and I can remember when—guy's name was Frank Fidel who ran that part of the operation. He did the hotel and restaurant part of the business. Many a Saturday or Sunday he had to go down to the packing house and get hamburgers cause they, you know they didn't buy enough or something. Business was that great. Anyhow then I think they opened another place further down, south Washington Boulevard, but they gave it up when I remember it was big news. They gave it up because McDonald's then started to enclose it and they didn't think it was worth the effort or the expense. LR: So they closed the Kramer's? FY: So they sold McDonald's. Boy I bet that was a mistake. On that corner of 12th street about that time Mound Fort was on 12th and Washington, Mound Fort Junior High. Across the street there was an ice cream place and I think next door was a butcher shop. That turned into the Food Town, they tore all that out and put Food Town which is a big market which is gone now. There was a guy named Dover, owned the ice cream shop and they sold hamburgers and sandwiches. Got a lot of school trade at noon, but it had a false front, the façade, and they called it the White Cliffs of Dover and he had a picture painted on there 61 of the white cliffs of Dover. I think his name was Otto. Anyhow he built a house, he was one of those first houses going up east 12th that are kind of built up into the side hill? Anyhow he either built there or out on Harrison Boulevard where, I don't know how far out it is, maybe 4800 or 46 where there's a field and there's homes built kind of down in a gulley. They ran Harrison—they filled it in and ran Harrison through there. He served good ice cream sodas. Then on the other corner was a motel. LR: We have gotten off track a little bit, and I don't mind I'm enjoying what you're talking about. Getting back to 24th and 25th, I mean visually I can't tell where we're at, but do you think we've covered? FY: Well we've gone from Adams to Wall and across the yards. We went on 24th street all the way out to the freeway, out by Del Monte and the stock yards and the elevators. Out there— LR: So how many of these places did you have personal interaction with do you think? FY: Personal reactions? LR: Interactions, where you actually go and visit. You think most of them, a third? FY: Oh first, you know we've been talking about the Marion Hotel. Marion Hotel is on Lincoln, now what I don't know is what the hell was that hotel on 25th and Grant where I told you that the Friendly Tavern was next door and the Salvation Army Band would play. Now that was a hotel, I thought that was—I had in my mind that 62 that was the Marion until I saw a picture and Marion Hotel is still there with the sign and it's on Lincoln. LR: I don't know, I'd have to ask. Do you know? EM: No. FY: See that's now across from the federal building. LR: Right, so you want to know where the one was on the name of the hotel on Grant and 25th? FY: See we got the Healy Hotel now and the Royal. LR: The Healy and Broom Hotel were basically the same. FY: No, no. The Broom was on Washington and the Healy was on Wall. The Broom was that nice Victorian with the bay windows and that was a nice building. Yeah when they tore it down it was bad. They had to quit renting rooms, it was just too bad. Well I'll tell you I was in a lot of these places. We talked about Crittenden and Paint and Glass. Before Crittenden it was Fuller Paint and I used to buy paint from them cause they gave me wholesale price and then Crittenden took it over. See that's way back in the 50s. Minnie cut my hair, I drank beer at the Grant Tap, I went over to see Pete Vlahos in his office. LR: I can't get over Vlahos. I see his name and I say Valejos. FY: Nope he pronounced is Vlahos. Yeah the old Bamberger station and I talked about the bug house, you know old John Marsh. Lot of those bars and restaurants up and down 25th street besides the China Temple and the Star, everybody hit them because they were the only places open late that were nice. 63 The bus terminal yeah and the Elks Lodge, I never belonged but I used to get in there now and then. Brown's Ice Cream which was lately the Hostess Thrift Store, and Brown's Ice Cream was a premium ice cream and Swift bought them. Then when Swift closed you know they closed everything. That's when I guess the bakery bought it and they ended up pretty much that whole block except 25th street cause they bought the Elks Lodge and they bought Lacey's apartment house that was behind the Boracho and all that's left on that block that doesn't belong to the bakery is the west side of or the south side of 25th street. Just that one lot deep. There were places that I used to go into Read's and the Finer Tap, and Marva mentioned the Lighthouse bar. They used to be an electric shop, Lighthouse Electric, and they had that sign. I don't know is that sign still there? It was a Lighthouse and said Lighthouse Electric. Right under the Berthana or right next door to the Berthana yeah hell you know downtown. Hey on a Friday night and a Saturday night in Ogden when they had the dance halls going and all that if you didn't get down there by 6:00 or 6:30, you couldn't park three blocks from anywhere. There's a picture in there of the, I can't remember these things. The dance hall there on 24th and what was it, The White? LR: The White City. FY: White city, yeah. There's a picture in there of that ballroom. I danced there and danced at the Berthana and drank beer in most of the places. I never went in El Boracho. LR: That was going to be my next question, did you ever go in there? 64 FY: No, but you know I noticed driving down Wall Avenue about 26th or 7 there's a place called Pico De Gallo. The original Pico De Gallo was on Wall about 22nd or 23rd and it looked like a, the building looked like an old auto junk shop. It was cinder block and it was a dive. My brother used to come to town, he liked it. He liked the food and he'd go down there and it was a dive. I didn't dare go in and I remember the cinder block and they had a big window looked like it was made from you know like old car windshields or something. Anyhow I come back after 30 years and there's Pico De Gallo in a big fancy building. Well of course the place they had is gone, I guess that's part of that frontrunner, that whole development in there. Kammeyer's bought a lot of sporting goods in there and Read's they sold canvas goods, tents and stuff like that besides the leather and the saddlery. The hardware store, and I mentioned Ketchum's. By the time I went to Ketchum's, Klenke's was gone. I think that was the name of the place, love that old hardware store cause it was all compartmented. It was before blister packs and all these little drawers with a little index thing on front. The ladder with the track and I just groove on that stuff and I'm sure when they razed the building they just hauled it all instead of saving at least part of the wall. LR: I think we're winding down here, which I find sad. I want to keep talking, however can you think of anything else on those two streets that you've missed or that you'd like to add before we wind down? FY: I mentioned the gun and the Smith and Edward's. You got to check with Bert about that gun. 65 LR: I'll talk to Sarah and see what she can come up with. FY: You might check out that story I have about that horse by some vet out on west 12th street. LR: Now is that the one that they called Black Nig? FY: Old Nig. LR: Old Nig, thank you. I knew it was something like that. FY: Yeah that was—he was a famous horse around town, I don't know, probably somebody owned him. See now here, here's 25th street and Grant it's this building here on the corner. LR: The hotel? FY: Yeah see and over here would be the bus station. I was at the Egyptian theater back to hear—I can't remember if it was Robert Taft or Everett Dirkson, but I think it was Robert Taft. He tried running for president and he came out and he gave a speech at the Egyptian theater and they let any management people who desired to get off for an hour or two to go up to hear them talk. I remember, I was, boy I was a staunch republican and I was there. I remember, don't remember what he said but I remember the incident mostly because I got an hour or two off work see. Now here's 25th street see. Here's the Marion Hotel so what the hell is this one? LR: Okay that's where Willie's store is now, in the bottom of the Marion. FY: Why did they do this? 66 LR: Now it's a— FY: Diagonal? LR: Diagonal so they've changed it. FY: What were these barriers for? LR: Crosswalks, because there are crosswalks now. FY: That's the building. I thought that was—until I saw this picture I thought that was the Marion Hotel. See anyhow one of these places here was the Friendly Tap, the Friendly Tavern and the band would stand right there, Salvation Army Band, and they'd play for about an hour/45 minutes. It was great because it was about five people, they had the drum of course. Beating the bass, that's classic and we'd walk over and that's when I was telling you we were living on top of the Richard Sheet Metal cause we had that little dog. People were turning us down for an apartment and see here's the empty lot where the grocery store was and the hotel upstairs. After they shut down all the vice it became skid row. They tell you in here, yeah I remember it was a skid row and the only places decent people went was the China Temple or the Star Noodle cause you kind of feared for your life. It was porter's and waiter's club and what I found interesting in here, the names. They talk about councilmen and mayors and a lot of these names come back and I remember. I saw in there George T. Frost was the councilmen, elected to the council. I knew him, he had a Hudson dealership on Washington Boulevard. He had a brother that drove truck for Swift. I don't 67 remember his first name, we called him Frosty. He got killed, ran his truck over somewhere back east. Mayor White, Rulon White, he's the guy who started cleaning up the town. I guess I voted for him because he was elected 1951, I was here. He was the White Concrete Pipe Co. down on I think Wall Avenue they were. He had an orchard or something past the hot springs going up there on that fruitway and Rulon White Ranch was what they called it or something. 68

Issue 20.5 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; HENRI HOLSTEIN, S,J. The Mystery of Religious Life Religious life1¯ interests contemporary man; this in-terest, in fact, constitutes one of the curious, paradoxes of our times. However surprising and unexpected this may seem to be, our contemporaries' interest in religious life is shown by the success of the novelized memoirs of ex-religious, especially when they are .transposed to the film. Books about religious are a financial success; this is true even in the case of expensive publications like the recent volume of Mo_nsieurs Serrou and Vals on the Poor Clares;2 this volume, illustrated by remarkable photographs that give the reader a realization of the life of the religious, is a continuation of a series on various comtemplative orders of men and women. Mademoiselle Cita-Malard, who lived with the permission of the Holy See0within the cloister of most of the important orders of women and who is able to make them known in an intelligent and respectful fashion, has published a brief, well-written volume to in-troduce French readers to "a million religious women."a And on. the stage in Paris, Monsieur Di~go Fabri presents the Jesuits4 to an audience which from all appearances:is deeply attentive and thoughtful; by means of a somewhat flamboyant plot which the playwright has imagined on the frontiers of that part of the world cut off by the iron cur-tain, the problem of the contemporary apostolate is placed'~ What is the source of this interest and curiosity which in general is sympathetic even if it is aroused by anecdotal or vestimentary details rather than by what is essential 1 This article was originally a conference given at the University of Louvain as the conclusion of a series of lectures on religious life. !t is reprinted with permission from Revue des communautds re-ligieuses, v. 33 (1961), pp. 65-~9. * Les Clarisses: les pauvres dames de sainte Glaire d'Assise. Paris: Horay, 19fi0. ~ Un million de religieuses. Paris: Fayard, 1960. ¯ A critical review of this drama was given by P. L. Barjon, S.J. in Etudes, February, 1961, pp. 251-57. ' "4. ,4. "4. Henri Holstein, s.J., teaches theology at the Institut Catholiqu, e in Paris. '~ ~' VOLUME 20, 1961 317 Henri Holstein, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 to religious life? I believe the reason is that religious poses a problem for modern man; in its own way religious life is a sign of contradiction which ~ angers, shocks, and at times arouses iriescapable questions. If one reflects and considers the matter, religious life by its an.d by its numbeis is a social fact to which modern man can not remaiff~ indifferent, desacralizedas he and living in a paganized atmosphere. This has been stated by Mademoiselle Cita-Malard when she writes religious women, the number of whom she estimates to a million: Is it not a paradox that out of two and half billion human beings and out of about five hundred million Catholics, million women have renounced forever--and in most cases even before personal experienc.e in the matter--the pleasures and the servitudes of the flesh and that they have stripped them-selves of everything, even their own will, either to follow publicly the strict and minute obligations which impose COmmon life on them or to free themselves for a more or !hidden apostolate in their milieu and prof~ssi0n, an apostolate which makes of their life an Oblation without reserve? What have pledged themselves to is directly opposed to the liberties claimed by Ouroindependent, self, centeoroed, sensual age? To this situation, so loudly underscored by:t_he indiscrete means of communication of our era, only we canbring answer by our life and our witness. Doubtless, this Witness will come from religious themselves, for, eveh if people do'not admit it to us, they nevertheless watch u~; si'nce dress and our way of life attract their attention; but witness will come especially from Catholics who Should able to explain to any man of good will what religious in the Catholic Church means. Accordingly; I hope present to y6u what, you already know in a kind of theo-logical synthesis and to give you in ~a simple way :the stitutive essentials of the religious life. Of the two partsof.this conference, the first will attempt [o show religious life as the fullness of baptism; the second will emphasize the .nature 6[ the witness given in and the Church by the religious who is a witness of heaven w~ll as a witness of the love of Jesus Christ for all men, brethren. Religious Life the Fullness~ of Baptism "Religious life," canon 1law tells us, "is a s~able c~o~mmunity way of ili[e in ~hich the faithful besides precepts common to all propose to observe as wello th evangelical counsels, through the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (c. 487). ~ Un million de religieuses, pp. 6-7. ~ In constitutions ~nd, vow formulas the,order is usually reversed "poverty, chastity, and obedience." Was not the purpose of th legislator, however, to show here the p~eeminence of the vow o obedience as mentioned in the well-known text of John XXIII o this matter? ~ In analyzing the obligations of religious life, this legal text first mentions the precepts common'to all Christians to which, it is evident, religious are also bound. It then adds .that besides these religious take on the observance of the evangelical counsels, obligating themselves to these by the observance of the required vows lived out not in isolation but--as far as there is question of religious life in the proper sense of the term--in a stable and commun-ity life. This description might seem to say that religious life claims of those who profess it something more than the Church demands of "ordinary Christians/' This, however, would .not be completely exact. Our Lord's command to be perfect as the heavenly Father holds for al.1, and the exigencies of baptism are the same for all the faithful. But the religious, in responding to a call that comes from our Lord and is acknowledged as such by. the Church when she admits to the vows of religion, intends to live this baptismal perfection in aradical way that by a definitive and irrevocable intention suppresses, the obstacles that might hinder or retard his fervor. "Every Christian," Pius XII said, "is invited to strive with all his powers for the ideal of Christian perfection; but it is realized .in a more complete and.sure way in. the states of perfectton. In religious life there is no question of a Christian ideal 3f life other than that~imposed on every baptized person; it is rather a matter of a complete and total effort to live 3ut in an authentic way the life begun by baptism. The .ame program of perfection is proposed to all; the Gospel s directed to all Christians; religious know no other code of perfection. The originality of religious consists in the ~doption'of radical means which permit them to give full ealization to their baptism; this is done in a prescribed ¯nd organic way within an institute or religious family :pproved by theChurch. In response to a call of our Lord, ,there takes place, at he beginning and origin of religious life a consecration vhich is complete and irrevocable for the heart which hakes it even before the person's lips are authorized to ormulate it publicly before the Church. This consecra-ion, which has .all the fervor and generosity of those -spousals with our Lord of which S~t. Paul speaks, is a lear-sighted and exacting renewal of baptismal-consecra-ion. .~ The life of every Christian is a consecrated one, since n ineradicable character marks it with the baptismal par-icipation in the death and resurrection" of Christ. Every ,aptized person is conformed to Christ; that is, he is T Discourse of December 9, 1957. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 50 ~958), p. 36. 4. 4. ÷ Religious 319 4. 4. 4. Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 320 regenerated to His likeness, is a member of His Body, and in Him is an adopted son of the Father, Religious profession is not a second baptism: there can be no such thing, but only renewals, more or less fervent, of the baptismal promises. Religious profession--and this is its grandeur and its seriousness---is a decisive act which binds the one who makes it to the obligation of a strict living out of his baptism by forbidding to him everything which could be opposed to the life of the new man. The negative aspects of religious life--separation, re-nouncement, despoiling--which are the first things to capture the attention of the general public as well as of relatives who are present at an investiture or a profession, are nothing else than the execution of this program of radi-cal renouncement which baptism implies. "We are dead with Christ . " says St. Paul. "Regard yourselves as dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus. Let sin rule no longer in your mortal body . " (Rom 6:8-12). The demands of baptism are understood by the religious with a total fullness. If it is necessary to renounce sin, then it is necessary to separate oneself from all the occasions of sin, from everything which would be capable of attaching us to a master other than Christ, from-that world for which Christ refused to pray. To renounce sin, says St. Paul, is to refuse to submit to lust. Accordingly, the re-ligious renounces those earthly lusts which are represented by money, by the body, and by self-will; he separates him-self from these by his vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence which in their very austerity represent for him a welcome liberation. In this there is no unconscious self-pity or masochism'. There is only the liberating conclusion of a logic which dares to take literally and without gloss or casuistry the abrupt words of the Gospel. Ever since an Anthony left his town and his family to bury himself in the desert when he heard read in church the gospel passage, "Go, sell what you own," and ever since a Francis of Assisi despoiled himself of all he possessed and returned it all--even :his clothing--to his father, religious life has known the joyous liberty of understanding our Lord literally and ol leaving all to follow Him. This would ,be a childishly imprudent act were it not dictated by a total confidence in the promise of our Lord "The folly of youth," say the wise, when they hear of young men and young women who joyfully put themselves withir the cloister or who bring themselves to enclose their whoh lives within the barriers of obedience and chastity, But i is.not the folly of youth; it is the folly of God who is wise than the wisdom of the prudent, For it is not s~lf-con fidence which brings a person to religious life; and if on should enter in a burst of enthusiasm, the long month of the novitiate would suffice to extinguish it. What leads one to religion is a humble confidence in our Lord who calls, a confidence that is capable of checking an under-standable apprehension and even at times a fear bordering on panic. Like St. Peter, the r~ligi6us makes up'his mind to let down the net only at the word of Jesus. And when the inevitable illusions of the first fervor have yielded place to that maturity of religious life which has been described so profoundly and accurately by Father Voillaume in his recent Lettres aux [raternitds of the Little Brothers of Jesus, then there appears in all its naked grace the power of hope to sustain the religious. More than in his early days, he realizes that what he proposes is humanly senseless; but he also realizes that the power of our Lord sustains him day after day and that it allows him to ad-vance up the steep road which he has chosen. Those who come to us, St. Ignatius of Loyola used to say to his first companions, must pray over it for a long time so that "the Spirit who urges them may also give them the grace of hoping to be able to carry the weight of their vocation with His aid.''s But religious life must not be defined by its negative characteristics, as though a religious placed his. happiness in the restrictions of strict cloister and of stifling prohibi-tions. The truth about religious life--and unfortunately this was left in the shadows in thememoirs of Sister Luke --is that it is the road on which one accompanies Christ as closely as possible; it is the means of imitating and fol-lowing Him as loyally as human weakness permits. If he avoids the sources of earthly desires, the religious knows very well that this is done only to remove the obstacles which spring up between him and Christ. "Whoever wishes to be my disciple," said Christ, "must renounce himself, take up his cross, and follow me." It is not a case of the cross for the sake of the cross nor of suffering for the sake of suffering; it is for the sake of being with Jesus. As Charles de Foucauld wrote in his notes: I can not conceive of a love for Christ] without an overwhelm-ing craving for likeness; for resemblance, and above all for a share in the pains, difficulties, and hardships of life . To be rich, comfortable, living contentedly with my possessions when You Were poor, uncomfortable, living a painful life of hard labor for me . I can not love You in such a way. The separation and the renouncements of religious life which each day accomplish in the religious the "death with Christ" of his baptism are considered by him as so many means of resurrecting with Christ. Better still, his vows appear to him as the attitudes of a person already resurrected. s In Christus, v. 7 (1960), p. 250. 4. 4- 4. Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 321 Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For religious life is not a life of dying, it is a resurrected life. The Lord who is followed is not only the poor work-man of Nazareth and the crucified one of Golgotha, He is also the Lord of glory who appeared on the radiant morn-ing of Easter. And the One to whom virgins give them-selves on the morning of their profession and whom they choose as their Spouse is not only the agonizing Christ of Gethsemane but is as well the Lamb in the paschal splen-dor of His triumph. Already they belong to the procession of virgins who follow the Lamb wherever He goes; their virginal promise is the beginning of the eternal espousals which the Lamb intends to anticipate with them here on earth. By virginity, Christ becomes the only Spouse of their heart. At first view, the vow of chastity is a refusal. Its ef-fect seems to be that of a total renouncement--renounce-ment of the senses, renouncement of affection, renounce-ment of a family. It demands that one leave his family and it forbids all hope of ever founding a family. In reality, however, the vow of chastity is an assuming of a total and exclusive belonging to our Lord. The religious who as-sumes it refuses all idea of a partial belonging; thereby he expresses his desire for that total consecration which re-ligious life realizes as the fullness of baptism. This is the behavior of the new man for whom nothing of the old man, nothing of the partial, nothing of the worldly can make sense. Furthermore, chastity gives its meaning to .the vows of poverty and obedience which in turn give to it their own dimension not of repression, but of a complete spiritual expansion in a total love. For poverty is not the sad ac-ceptance of small privations and of petty dependence; it is the gesture of confidence by one who is no longer anx-ious about those things which the heavenly Father knows we have need of: Moreover, poverty is a refusal to be weighed down by the things of earth and by the cares which afflict those who possess things, making them always fearful of losing or decreasing their precious little treas-ures. The religious knows of another treasure: the love of our Lord which leaves him no time to be occupied in the acquiring of riches, the manipulation of capital, and the preserving of property. Poverty is the testimony of the love given to the divine Spouse by one who has chosen Him in an undivided way. Not~only does the religious place his confidence in Him with regard to his temporal life, he also detaches himself from every self-anxiety and from the monopolizing desire for possessions, d6ing this in order that he might give himself wholly to the Spouse of his soul. Chastity, which is the choosing of our Lord alone,~and poverty, which refuses to allow a person to be monop- lized by any selfish interest, mutually complement each ther. And by the conjunction of these two, obedience re-eives all its meaning. Obedience can easilyJappea~, to be n infantile submission; actually in the eyes of faith it is preferring of the will of God. Defined in the negative 2rms of renouncement of .initiative and independence~ bedience is a caricature that is ridiculous and hateful. It as value only so far as it is an ardent search for the good ,leasure of the One who is loved. Christ Himself said that Iis food was to do the will of His Father. Accordingly, the eligious has only one nourishment: the will of our Lord ;hich is the will of the Father who is the only guide of the ctivity of the only begotten Son: "I always do whatever s pleasing to him." The superior, this brother or this sister who commands ,le, is important for me only because he represents Christ. The abbot," says St. Benedict, "takes the place of Christ." t is Christ whom through faith I hear and see in _my uperior. The man does not interest me, even though he ,e a saint, a genius, or a dear friend. It is Christ who is the ,bject of my obedience; it is to Him that I render my .omage in performing what is commanded me in His ,ame. There is good reason for saying that "obedience is n attitude of faith and love only if it is chaste; that is, if t is inspired.by the exclusive love o,f 9ur Lord." Otherwise t becomes degraded and turns into an interested con- 9rmism or into an Unacceptable infantilism. In religious life, all the elements are consistent with.~ach .ther; chastity, which is an espousal and a consecration ~ Christ, gives its own characteristic mark to a life that is ,oor and dependent through obedience; for these two ows, if they are to be genuine in both great and little hings, imply an exclusive choice of Christ as the only pouse of one's soul. This is why there must be a question here of ~vows, of tatutory promises which oblige one's whole life, thereby arpassing the unstable impulse of a moment of fervor. ¯ ove demands definitive commitments, it engages the ,hole life, it gives assurance for the future. All this which among men is often only an illusion 'hich the future may soon contradict unless the love is ~oted in prayer and nourished by recollection is made ossible for the re.ligious by his original and constantly 2newed confidence in the grace of Him who has called. The religious vow is the instrument of that consecra-on which realizes the baptismal consecration in all the lentitude 9f its demands. If at first view it appears as an ll-out effort to excludeand eradicate the obstacles which re opposed to the perfection of baptismal life, neverthe-ss the religious vow signifies the total consecration of ÷ + ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 20, 196]. Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 324 one's whole life to our Lord. It is included in the initia "consecration" which Christ made when He came into world: "I have come, O Father, to do thy will1" The Ser vant has no other intention than that of accomplishing work for which He was sent into the world; for tliat reasor His sole occupation will be to do the will of the Father In line with this consecration of our Lord and in ticipation of this "intention" of the Incarnate Word, religious places himself in the hands of God. As Fathe Bergh has said: The vow is the expression of a positive consecration to divim love. God loved above everything; there in short is the mean ing of religious life . Its program should not be enunciatec precisely in the abstract terms of poverty, chastity, and obedi ence, but rather under the concrete form 0[ a loving imitatior of Christ poor, chaste, and obedient, of Christ the Servant of th~ Father and of men? Religious Life a Witness in the Church Up to this point we have looked at religious life onl, from the viewpoint of a personal relation that unites to our Lord, Now, however, it is necessary to consider in the Church. To do this, we shall consider two points First, the significance of religious life in relation Church and second, the testimony ~to the Church whirl religious life gives to the world. What then does religious life signify in relation to Church?~In other words, why does the Church, withou whose consent there could not be ~ community or an stitute professing the life of the counsels, recognize amon[ her baptized children the existence of groups which order to live out their baptismal life in a more radical oblige themselves publicly to the observance of poverty chastity, and obedience? It seems to me that by the ligious life the Church expresses her own proper mystery The purpose of religious life is to concretize and to realization to the mystery of the bride who is without In the admirable fifth chapter of the Letter to Ephesians, St. Paul presents the Church as the bride whon Christ has chosen for Himself. In order to make her hol~ and to "present to himself the Church in all her glory, having spot or wrinkle," He delivered Himself for Being submitted to Christ, the Churcti has for Him deference and respect, the discreet and fervent love whicl the Bible constantly presents as the expression of the sponse of the creature to his Creator. This is a virgina union which is consummated in those "nuptials of Lamb" to which the angel invited the seer of the Apoc~ lypse: "Come, I will show you the spouse of the Lamb., "And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming dow, ~ In Revue diocesaine de Tournai, v. 15 (1960), p. 18. tom out of heaven from God, made ready as a young bride :dorned for her husband" (Ap 21:9,2), The holy bride has lo gifts other than those .given ~her by her Spouse--the :lorious heritage which He acquired by His Blood; could he, then, have any other desire thafi to follow her Spouse :nd to accomplish His entire will: "The Church," says ¯ aint Paul, "submits to Christ" (Eph 5:24)? ~ If all Christian living manifests in its own way the nystery of the Church, is it not fitting that certain ones hould have the particular duty:of manifesting the mystery ,f the virginal bride in its complete authenticity? These :re those who among all the redeemed have the singular ,rivilege of following the .Lamb wherever He goes; for 'they are virgins." Theirs is an absolute and undivided ove which blossoms in holy poverty and lov!ng obedience; t is the mystery of the Church and her consecrated ones. Through religious life the Church manifests her own ~roper mystery to herself and to the world.-This is why eligious life is so dear to her; it is the reason why through he voices of her leaders, especially the recent Popes, she ~ever ceases to increase her efforts to maintain the cor-ectness of religious life in its striving for sanctity: Holy Mother Church has always Striven with solicitous ~are nd maternal affection for the children of her predilection who ,ave given their whole lives to Christ in order to follow Him reely on the arduous path of the counsels that she might onstantly render them worthy of their heavenly resolve and ngelic vocation?° Religious, by reason of the vocation which surpasses hem and which they know themselves unworthy of, are an ntimate witness to the Church herself; at the same time hey are a witness of the Church to all those who see them ive. Nourished in the Church and directed by her, they ,ear witness to her and show forth that the Church in its nmost reality is truly the bride whom Christ has chosen or Himself. First of all, religious give testimony to the sense of God. )ur modern world has lost this to the extent, that even qany Christians do not understand the contemplative ire; their attitude is a questioning one: "Of what use is t?" To this I would answer that to judge religious life by ts relation to human utility is to condemn oneself to fisunderstand it. I readily maintain the paradox that eligious life is not justified by its usefulness for men but ,y its value in the sight of God. In its primary meaning it ppears useless to the city of man, for the precise reason hat it exists in its entirety for God. Speaking o[ contemplation, Mademoiselle Ceta-Millard uotes the phrase of Joan of Arc, "God the first to be _'rved." I would be tempted to einphasize this even more ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 114. 4- 4- 4- Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 325 Henri Holstein, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by saying,, "God the 0nly one to be servedl" This is wh there are in the Church contemplative orders, monasterie of prayer--Carmelites, Poor Clares, Carthusians, Tral~ pists. Their proper witness is to recall to men the im portance of prayer, the urgency of penance, the necessit for adoration. But this same witness is also given by every genuin religious life. Under pain of an anemia'that would quickl become fatal, religious life must always include prayel It can exist and is able to flourish only by reason of spirit of prayer which animates every hour of the day, n matter how filled it may be with the care of the sick, th education of children, the help of the aged or the undel developed. In order to create a suitable climate, there added to prayer religious observance, the rule of silenc~ cloister. One may be tempted to smile at these or to b scandalized by them. Every tradition can manifest a tain rigidity; at times inevitable minutiae may make n ligious life a little out-of-date or unadapted to the time But these are simple human weaknesses which the Churc herself does not hesitate to remedy. To judge religiou tradition by such details is to give proof of pettiness c spirit. W.hat is at stake here and what justifies the ot servances of religious life is the need and the desire to s~ up a favorable climate for prayer. For religious life is a present heralding and'anticipatio of the eternal life to which we are destined by our ba[ tism. It shows forth that this present world is not the onl one, but that there exists a true city in comparison wit which the city of this world with its bustle and its.narro~ cares is vanity. This is the often emphasized eschatologic~ meaning of the vow of chastity: It is an anticipation of th life of heaven; on this earth where the body and sensualit count for so much, it represents "the life of the angels as lived by beings of flesh and blood. Turned toward th heavenly Jerusalem, religious already attempt to live th~ which will be their condition in heaven. "That which will all be," said St. ,~mbrose to the virgins of his tim, "you have already begun to be, Already in this world, yo possess the glory of the resurrection; you live in time, bt without the defilements of time, In persevering in chastit you are the equals of the angels of God." This eschatological witness must be extended to th entirety of religious life. As Father Giuliani writes: Being .a complete break with the world, religious life is witness gwen to the Kingdom of God. Through his life of po erty, chastity, and obedience, the religious makes apparent reality that is begun here below for all, but which will be vealed in its fullness only in the world of the resurrection. is poor in order to affirm that God constitutes the riches of elect in the city of the blessed; he is chaste in order to affirm th there will be no other nuptials other than that of God and H people; he is obedient in order to affirm that the liberty of the creature consists in submission to the full accomplishment, of the will of God. Thus it is that in the Church on earth the re-ligious is a witness to the Church of glory,a But at the same time and by a sort of paradox, religious life also manifests in the Church the charity of Christ who willed to share our condition. To present religious life only as an anticipation of heaven risks considering it as a comfortable evasion, a charge, often enough directed against it. Are religious dispensed from one of the two facets of the great commandment, the one .that commands love of neighb.or? God forbid, for. then they would no longer be Christians. Besides, one has only to recall the multiplication in the Church of charitable orders, insti-tutes, and congregations to reduce to nothing the objec-tion of laziness and flight made against religious life. Contrary to this objection, it can be shown that religious life in its essence is a life of devotion to the neighbor. Pope Pius XlI in the constitution Sponsa Christi has stated this without ambiguity: Since the perfection of Christian life consists especially in charity, and since it is really one and the same charity with which we must love God alone above all and all: men ir~ Him, Holy Mother Church demands of all nuns who canonicallyproo fess alife of'contemplation, together with aperfect love of God, also a perfect love of the neighbor; and for the sake of this charity and their state of life, religious men and women must devote themselves wholly to the needs of the Church and of all those who are in .want. If out of love for Christ a religious consecrates himself to only one thing, the following of Christ as closely as 'possible, then it becomes unthinkable that he should be disinterested in the work of redemption, the salvation of the world. The love of God, which is sovereignly jealous, is also sovereignly generous; this love desires the good, even the temporal good, of all men. The commandment of mutual love .is primary for all religious, and religious life gives testimony in the Church to the charity of God. The witness of religious, then, will be a witness of fra-ternal charity, Of a charity that is patient, inventive, char-acterized by the unfetterable impulses of missionary zeal, of pedagogical discoveries, of parental solicitude. Is there a single kind of suffering, of sickness, or of infirmity which religious life has not sought to care for in the course of history? The almost infinite variety of hospital and teach-ing congregations represent a sort of diffraction of charity towards the neighbor; it is touching to discover at the origin of a given institute the desire to take charge of a particular type of misfortune which seemed to the founder not to have received sufficient care. Although admittedly "In Etudes, June, 1957, p. 397. 4- 4- + Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 327 Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 328 it is often overly dispersed, such an attitude is a magnifi-cent and multiform witness given by religious life of a tireless and tirelessly inventive charity, renewed each day by prayer and union with Christ. This last characteristic must be emphasized. The apos-tolate and the devotion of religious draw their strength and their constancy from the consecration of their life to the Lord. It is ~his consecration that enables religious to be kind and sympathetic to the unfortunate and the afflicted. Likewise it is this consecration that makes it possible for a religious to interest himself in everything that is human, in science, in literature, in the arts. Did not our Lord who took on Himself every infirmity, also assume by His in-carnation every authentic human value? Conclusion This is the witness to the Church which is constantly given in silence and modesty by religious life. It does give witness for itself, but for the Church which has it, accepted it, encouraged it, and which does not cease to be interested in it. Moreover the religious does not give testimony for his own limited congregation, but the entire Church of Christ. Religious life manifests the magnificent fecundity of Church of which the Vatican Council speaks, in the fra-ternal diversity of vocations and spiritualities, religious life is a permanent sign of both the catholicity and unity of the Church. For on the magnificent path which our Lord calls all of them to follow, there is the same love of Christ, the same faithful adherence to the Gospel as the unique rule of their attitudes, the same charity welcoming every appeal of suffering, of education, of the apostolate. And all this takes place in the calm and serene joy those who, having given Up all for our Lord, know that even here below they have 'received the hundredfold. Who are better witnesses than religious of the joy the children of God and of the children of the Church? True, they do not have a monopoly of this, for they lay claim to nothing, not even the peace which radiates from. their faces. But the joy of their Lord which they always bear about with them--they know well that no one can take it from them. The joy of religious life is perhaps the most constant and the most efficacious trait of its witness. This is so pre-cisely because it manifests itself spontaneous~ly without being conscious of itself and without imposing itself upon those it meets. Julien Green relates that on a walk in the United States during the .war he visited a scholasticate of religious order. To the young man who was showing him through the large establishment, he would have liked ask a single question, a question more important to him han all the details of architecture and of theological programs that the young man was giving him. The .fiues-tion he wished to ask was one addressed to the young man personally, since he was a person.about whom some might think that his ardent youth had been enclosed within the ~ad walls of a seminary and the complicated prescriptions of a rule. The question was this: "Young man, are you happy here?" But, continues the diary of the novelist, I :lid not have the courage to ask the question. "For my guide had about him the radiant air of those who feel themselves loved by heaven.''12 ~ Julien Green, Journal, v. 4, p. 106. ÷ Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 329 I~'; 'LEGRAND The Prophetical Meanin of Celibaq ÷ L. Legrand is on the faculty of St. Peter's Seminary, Bangalore, India. REVIEW FOR ~RELIGIOU~S 330 When Jephte's daughter realized that she had to in fulfilment of her father's vow, she withdrew mountains "to bewail her virginity" (Jg 11:37-40).significant that what she laments over is her virginity For hers.elf, her father, her companions, and those wh~ recorded that tradition, what made her fate so pitifu was not the fact that she had to leave the world in bloom of her youth: this is a romantic view which not belong to the stern biblical times. For the Israelite the pathos of her story lies in the fact that she will experience the joys of matrimony and motherhood. will die a virgin, and it is a curse, a disgrace similar the shame attached to sterility (see Lk 1:25). The prophet have a similar thought in mind when, in their lamenta tions, they give the chosen people the title of "Virgin Israel": "Listen to my lamentation, house of Israel!. has fallen, she shall not rise again, the Virgin of Israel." this text Amos (5:2; see J1 1:8; Lam 1 : 15; 2:13), by callin~ Israel a Virgin, wants to emphasize her misery: she will like a virgin, without leaving any descendants. It is like echo, at the collective level, of the laments of Jephte' daughter. These examples show clearly that according to the Semitic mentality, virginity is far from being an It is a fecund matrimony which is honorable and a of God's blessings (Ps 126). The same applies to men L. K6hler remarks that the Old Testament has no wore for bachelor, so unusual is the idea.~ Christ will change that attitude towards celibacy 19:12). But can we not find already in the Old Testamen a preparation and an anticipation of His teaching? Towards the end of the Old Testament period at leas some groups among the Essenes observed celibacy. This article is reprinted with permission from Scripture, Octobe 1960. pp. 97-105, and January, 1961, pp. 12-20. =Hebrew Man (Loudon: S.C.M., 1956), p. 89. fortunately the authors who mention it are very vague on the motives of that observance. Josephus (The Jewish ,,War, II, 8; 2) and Philo (quoted by Eusebius in Prepara-tion for the Gospel, VIII, 2; Patrologia Graeca, 21, 644 AB), putting themselves at the level of their pagan readers, reduce the celibacy of the Essenes to a misogyny entirely void of any religious value: "They beware of the impu-dence of women and are convinced that none of them can keep her faith to a single man," says Josephus. Pliny (Natural History, V, 17) describes the Essenes as philoso-phers, "tired of life" (vita fessos), who give up. the pleasures of love: Essenian celibacy would be of a Stoician type, but evidently Pliny's competency can be doubted when it comes to interpreting the motives of a Hebrew sect. The Qumran texts might have given us an explanation, but so far on this. question they have not been Very helpful. Though they know of a temporary continence on the occasion of the eschatological war,3 they do not impose .celibacy on the members of the community. On the con-trary, the prologue of the m~inual for the future congre-gation speaks explicitly of women and children,4 and the discovery of female skeletons in the cemetery of the com-munity5 makes it cl~ar that at Qumran as in the sect of DamascusS---if the two sects were distinct--matrimony was at least allowed. In short, a few groups among the Essenes present an interesting case of pre-Christian celi-bacy; the study of thai case might throw some light on the New Testament ideal of virginity, but such a study is impaired by the lack of reliable explanation of their mo-tives. And when we come across first,hand contemporary documentation, it happens that it concerns a sect which ~id not observe celibacy as a rule. ~qremiah, the First Celibate Fortunately the Old Testament presents a much more ancient and clearer case of celibacy: the case of Jeremiah, "a virgin prophet and a figure of the Great Phophet who too was a Virgin and the son of a Virgin.''7 Jeremiah was apparently the first biblical character to embrace celibacy as a state of life. At least he is the first one to whom Scripture attributes celibacy explicitly. Others before him may have abstained from marriage. Ancient Christian writers often suppose that Elijah did so3 and make of him s The War o[ the Children o! Light, VII, 3, 4. iSee Theodore Gaster, The Dead Sea Scriptures (Garden City: Doubleday, 1957), p. 307. 5 See Revue biblique, 63 (1956), pp. 569-72; 6 Document o[ Damascu.~', IV, 20-V, 6; VII, 6-8. 7 Bossuet, Mdditations sur l'dvangile, 109th day. SSee the texts in Elie le prophOte (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1956), V, 1, pp. 165 and'189. But St. Augustine was not convinced of the celibacy of Elias: De Genesi ad litteram, IX, 6. 4, The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 ,+ L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the father of monastic life. But the testimony of Scripture concerning Elijah is purely negative: no wife is mentioned, but the Bible does not speak of his celibacy either. Even if he remained a celibate, we have no indication as to the reasons that prompted him. Jeremiah, on the contrary, in his confessions speaks of his celibacy and explaim it. We may owe this insight on his private life to his intro-spective mood, another quality that was rare in ancient Israel. Anyway he provides us with the most ancient re-flection on celibacy. In it we can trace to its beginnings the biblical doctrine of virginity: The word of the Lord came to me saying: Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place. For thus says the Lord concerning the sons and daughters that are born here and concerning the mothers that bore them and concerning their fathers who begot them in this land: They shall die miserably, without being lamented, without being buried. . They shall be as dung upon the face of the earth. They shall perish by the sword and by famine. Their carcasses shall be a prey for the birds of the air and the wild animals (Jer 16:1-4). Those are the terms by which Jeremiah explains his .celibacy. Are those verses to be understood as a positive order of God, given to the prophet when he came of age and enjoining him to abstain from matrimony? It might be said that celibacy was progressively imposed upon the prophet by the circumstances, his isolation, and the per-secutions that made him an outcast. Eventually he would have understood that beneath those circumstances there was a divine ordinance and, with typical Hebrew disre-gard for secondary causes, he would have expressed it in the literary form of an order. In any case, it is clear that Jeremiah gives his celibacy a symbolical value. The loneliness of his unmarried life forebodes the desolation of Israel. Death is about to sweep over the country, Jere-miah's forlorn celibacy is nothing but an enacted proph-ecy of the imminent doom. Calamity will be such as to make meaningless matrimony and procreation. Jeremiah's celibacy is to be understood as a prophecy in action. Symbolical actions were frequent among the prophets. Thus to announce the imminent captivity of the Egyptians, Isaiah walks naked in the streets of Jeru-salem (Is 20:1-6). Jeremiah breaks a pot to symbolize the destruction of the capital (Jer 19:1-11). Ezekiel makes a plan of the siege to come, cooks impure food as the famished inhabitants of the besieged city will have to do, cuts his beard and scatters it to the four winds as the population of Judah will be scattered (Ez 4:1-5:4). In some cases it was the whole life of a prophet which was given by God a symbolical significance: for instance, Hosea's matrimonial misfortunes symbolized the unhapPy~ relations between Yahweh and His unfaithful spouse Israel (Hos 1:3). Jeremiah's life too was symbolical. He lived in times of distress. He was to be a witness of the destruction of Sion. It was his sad duty to announce~the imminent deso-lation: "Every time I have to utter the word, I must shout and proclaim: Violence and ruinsl" (Jet 20:8). Still more: it was his tragic destiny to anticipate in his existence and signify in his own life the terrible fate of. the "Virgin of Israel." "The Virgin of Israel" was soon to undergo the fate of Jephte's daughter, to die childless, to disappear with-out hope. With his prophetical insight, Jeremiah could see already the shadow of death spreading over the coun-try. He could hear already the moaning of th~ land: "Teach your daughter this lamentation: Death has climbed in at our windows; she has entered our palaces, destroyed the children in the street, the young men in the square. Corpses lie like dung all over the country" (Jet 9:20-21). This was 'no mere Oriental exaggeration. What Israel was about to witness and Jeremiah had to announce was really the death of Israel. Israel .,had been living by the covenant and now, by the sin of the people, the cove-nant had been broken. The two institutions in which the covenant was embodied and through which God's graces came down upon the people, the two great signs of God's indwelling in the land. of His choice, the temple and the kingship, would soon disappear. Only a few years more and Nabuchodonosor would invade Judah, burn the sanctuary, enslave the king and kill his children. For the Israelites this would be the end 6f the world, the day of the Lord, day of doom and darkness, day of i~eturn to the original chaos (Jer 4:23-31; 15:2-4). Ezekiel will explain in a dramatic way the meaning of the fall of Jerusalem: the Glory of God will leave His defiled abode and abandon the land (Ez 8:1-11:25). Israel will die and nothing short of a resurrection will bring her back to life (Ez 37:1-14). When the exiles leave Palestine, Rachel'can sing her dirge at Rama (Jer 31:15): her children are no more. Israel as a people has disappeared. God's people has been dispersed. There are no more heirs of the promises and ~children of the covenant unless God repeats the Exodus and creates a new people. A testament is over. God's plan has apparently failed. Death reigns. Prophetically Jeremiah sees all that beforehand. He experiences it proleptically in his flesh. Excluded from the Temple (Jer 36:5), excommunicated so to say from his village (Jer 11:8; 12:6; 11:19-23) and from the community (Jer 20:2; 36:25), he will experience before the exile what it means to live estranged from one's country, away 4. + The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Legran~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the Temple of the Lord. Before the Israelites he knows the bitter taste of a life which has no hope left on earth. "Never could I sit joyful in the company of those who were happy; forlorn I was under the power of thy hand for thou hadst filled me with wrath'~ (Jer 15:17). Thus was Jeremiah's life an anticipation of the im-minent doom. His celibacy too. When death :already casts her shadow over the land, is it a time to marry? "For thus says Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel: Behold I will put an end, in this place, under your very eyes and in your very days, to the shouts of.gladness and of mirth, to the songs of the bride and of the bridegroom" (Jer ~16:9). An end of joy, life, marriage: the country turns into a sheol: there is no marriage and no begetting in the sheol. The command of the Lord to "increase and multiply" (Gen 1:28) assumed that the world was good (Gen 1:4, 10). But now 'that man's sin has aroused death, the Lord re-verses His command: "Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place." Jeremiah's life of solitude announces the reign of death and anticipates the end of the world he lived in. His celibacy is in line with his message of doom. It is part of those trials by which "the most~suffering of the prophets," as St, Isidorus of Pelusia puts it;9 anticipates God's judgment. It is ~part of the sufferings which point to the cross, the final expression of God!s judgment. The solitude of the lonely prophet of Anatoth announces the dereliction-of the crucified vic-tim of Calvary. It has the same significance: it signifies the end of an economy in which God's promises and graces were entrusted to Israel according to the flesh and communicated by way of generation. This order dis-appears. When God will raise a new Israel, it will be an Israel according to the spirit .in which one will have access not by right of birth but by direct reception of the Spirit'(Jer 31:31-35). In such a people the fecundity of the flesh will have lost its value. The Negative Aspect of CelibacyI" "'On Account ol the Present Necessity" Replying to a question of the Corinthians concerning virgins, St. Paul's advice is to leave them" in that state: But,the explanation,he gives is not very clear; "I consider that it is better to be so on, account of the present neces-sity" (1 Cor 7:26). What is that "present necessity" that justifies celibacy? Catholic commentators (Cornely, Lemonnier, Allo, Cal-lan, W. Rees, Osty, and others) see in that "necessity;" as Osty puts it, "the thousand worries of married life,"x0 o In Patrologia graeca, 78, 356. ~ Epttres aux Corinthiens ~Bible de ]~rusalem) (Paris: Cerf, 1949), p. 40. or else the imminent persecutions "which'an unmarried person is better able to bear.''11 The standpoint of the Apostle would be purely individual, psychological or as-cetical. On him who is married the burden of the world is more heavy. The celibate, on the contrary, can devote himself fully to the service of God. ,~ Such a thought is certainly not foreign to St. Paul's mind: he expresses it in verses 39 to 35 of, the same chap-ter. Yet this does not seem to be for him a primary consider-ation. The immediate explanation he gives of his pref-erence for celibacy follows another line: "The time is short . The world in its present form is passing away" (vv 99- 31). This shows that his outlook is mainly collective and eschatological: the end of the world is~'drawing near: let us adapt our attitude to these new circumstances; it istime to detach ourselves from a ~d0omed world. "Even those who have a wife, let themlive as if they had none., and those who have to deal with the world as if they had not." Individual considerations are only an application,,of this iiew on the divine economy. It is because the'times we re' living in are the times of the end that it is better not to be burdened with matrimonial obligations, so as to be able to give one's undivided attention to God. The vocabulary used by St. Paul in this section confirms this ~schatological interpretation of his views on cdibacy. The words he uses clearly belong to the vocabulary of apocalyptic literature. The "necess.ity" (andgk~) .whs the technical term used to describe the crisis of the last times (Lk 21:23; 1 The~ 3:7; Ps.Sal,,5:8; Test jos,,2~.4.);.,in th~t sense it is akin to "tribulation (thlipsis) used l~e.re also to describe the present condition (v 98) a.nd which has also an apocalyptic value (Mt 25: 9-28; Ap 1.: 9~; 7:14; 2 Thes ! : 6), Similarly the term used for "time" in verse 29 (ttairos) 'is about a technical term for the period before the Ad-- vent''12 (see Rom 13:11; Heb 9:9; 1 Pet 1:5, 11). It is true that these terms are not always taken in their technical eschatological sense. But their convergence and the con-text make it clear that St. Paul sets virginity against an eschatological background. With Jeremiah he considers celibacy as a testimony that the last times have come, an attitude that presages the end. The difficulty of this interpretation--an.d what makes Catholic commentators to shrink from it--is that it seems to suppose in St. Paul the erroneous belief that the end bf the world was imminent. Can we 'accept such an ex-n W. Rees in Catholic Commentary on Holy Scripture (Edin-burgh: Nelson, 1953), p. 1090. ~ A. Robertson andA. Plummer, First Epistle o[ St. Paul. (Edin-burgh: T. and T. Clark, 1911), p. 152 . ÷ ÷ ÷ The Mean~ing Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Le~and REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 planation of celibacy without rallying to the consequent eschatology of A. Schweitzer?xa Prat, followed by Huby and Spicq, does not think the objection decisive. He accepts as possible the eschatologi-cal explanation of virginity. Quoting I Corinthians 7:26- 31, he explains: "Is it possible that Paul was haunted by the near prospect of the Parousia? We must not deny this a priori . Lacking certain knowledge, he might have formed an opinion based upon probabilities and con-jectures . It is at least possible that he guided his con-duct and his counsels by such probabilities.TM This inter-pretation can be defended, provided we attribute to Paul not a positive teaching concerning the imminence of an event, the day and hour of which none can know, but an opinion, a desire, a hope without certitude,x~ This is surely sufficient to safeguard biblical inerrancy and remain within the limits fixed by the Biblical Commission, Yet this exegesis is not fully satisfactory, for it leaves the im-pression that the eschatologic~il explanation~of celibacy should not be taken too seriously. It would be one of those views that reflect more the prejudices of the time than the Apostle's personal thought, like the arguments bY which Paul tries to justify the imposition of the veil-on women in the assembly (1 Cot 11:2-16) or the midrashic allusion to the rock following the Jews in the deser~t (1 Cor 10:4) Thus St. Paul would have used the naive expectation of an imminent Parousia to insist on virginity, but that would be a mer_e argumentum ad hominem that should not be pressed too "much. The real and solid ground fo~ celibacy would remain the personal and ascetical con-siderations sketched in verses 32 to 34. Accepting Prat's eschatological interpretation of Paul's arguments for virginity, it may be possible to go deeper b) comparing the thought of the Apostle with that of Jere-miah. Is not the "present necessity" of 1 Corinthians 7:26 parallel with the explanation Jeremiah .gave of his celi-bacy? If so, can we not find in Paul~s eschatological justifi. cation of virginity a lasting value, something much deeper than a pious illusion? It all amounts to a proper evaluation of his eschatolog~- cal hope. Was it a delusion which he had, but which he avoided expressing firmly? Or was it on the contrary a 18 See the decree of the Biblical Commission of June 18, 1915 in Enchiridion Biblicum, 2nd ed. (Naples: D'Auria, 1954),'nn. 419--21. a, The Theology o[ St. Paul (London: Burns, Oates, and Wash bourne, 1926), V. 1, p. 112. Prat explained his mind still more clear!} in a few pages of his final chapter on "The Last Things" which h~ suppressed to satisfy an over-zealous censor. These pages have been published in Prat's biography I~y J. Cal~s, p. 99. a~j. Huby, Ep~tres aux Corinthiens (Paris: Beauchesne, 19.46); W Rees also (op. cir.) accepts an eschatological influence on St. Paul't thought on virginity. central element of his faith and of his spiritual outlook? O. Cullmann, for the early Church in general, and L. Cerfaux, for St. Paul in particular, have shown that is the second view which is true. There is much ~ore than a question of knowing whethei~ Paul or the early Church ex-pected or not an imminent Parousia. For them and for us, the heart of the matter is not the date of the Par0usia but its significance. In Cullmann's terms, what is the connec-tion of the present period of history (the times of the Church) with the past (death and resurrection of Christ) and the future (final resurrection)~1~ The problem is not chronological but theological. St. Paul may or may not have been under the impression that Christ was to return soon. This is rather °immaterial and irrelevant. What matters is that, for him, and for the early Christians, ours are the last days (Acts 2:16 if). The last hour has begun with the death of the Lord (1 Jn 2:18), How long will it be? Nobody knows, but it is clear that now, in Christ, history has reached its end and what we wimess now in the world is the consummation of the end: "The world goes disappearing" (1 Jn 2:i7). The Apocalyp~ses of St. John and of the synoptic Gospels show in a veiled language that the trials the Church has to undergo are the fore-running signs of the consummation, and St. Paul explains that the individual tribulations of the Christians are their share of the Messianic woes (Cor 1:24).xr The present period may be short or long: after all, "with the Lord, one day ,is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day" (2 Pet 3:8). In any case, Chris-tian life is thoroughly eschatological in character. What-ever may be the actual date of the Parousia, we live after the end of history has been reached. We are just waiting for the consummation of the end, we turn towards it and we prepare it. Parous.ia hangs so to say over our life: even if chronologically it may be still distant, it is theologically imminent: it is the only development of the history of salvation that we can expect, and it gives its color to our outlook on things. Seen in the light of faith, the history we live in and our personal fate appear as signs of the end. Celibacy is one of those signs: it shows that the last times have come. It proclaims that the world is disap-pearing. The end has come. Man's primary duty is no more to continue the human species. It is on the contrary to free himself from a fleeting world which has already 10 O. Cullmann, Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950), 17 In Col 1:24 "tribulationes Christi" should be translated "the messianic woes" and not "the sufferings ot Christ" (it is thlipsis and not path~ma). The phrase does not refer to the sufferings of our Lord but, according to a terminology common in Judaism, to the trials God's people had to undergo to reach the messianic times, the birth pangs of the new world. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celiba~'~ VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR REI.IG]OUS lost its substance. This is not an attitude of panic before a threa, tening disaster. It is rather an act of faith in the significance of the Lord's death, beginning of the end. Thus Paul understood virginity exactly as Jeremiah. Jeremiah did not know the date of the destruction of Jerusalem: it is not the role nor the charisma of the prophets to give a chronology of the future. But'one thing he knew for certain: on account of the infidelity of the people, the former covenant had become void. Conse-quently the old institutions like the Temple and the kingship would break like empty shells and Israe!, aban-doned by God, would collapse. H~ knew that his was a time of death. The nuptial songs 'would be replaced by lamentations. Marriage and procreation had lost their meaning. The prophet showed it by his own life: his celibacy was an enacted lamentation. Similarly, St. Paul did not know the date of the end. But he knew for certain that the world had condemned it-self by condemning Christ and that the worldly powers had been nailed down on the cross. It was God's plan to leave some interval before the actual end of all, time to: allow the mystery of iniquity to reach its climax and the Church to spread all over the w~rld. During that time life was to continue and marriage was still legitimate. Yet even married people had to understand that they were no longer of the world they were in. Still using the world, they had to be detached from it. Even in marriage they had to bring an attitude of freedom, a tension towards a higher form of love, the love of Christ 'towards His bride the Church (see Eph 5:25-33). And itis quite fitting that to remind men of the freedom they should keep towards a fleeting world there should be, in the Church, a special charisma (1 Cor 7".'7) of virginity, akin to the charisma of prophecy. The celibate's life is an enacted prophecy. His whole life shouts to the world that it is passing away. As Jeremiah announced to the Chosen People the end of the old covenant, the celibate, new Jeremiah, announces the end of the old world. He embodies the teachings of th~ Apocalypses. He stands as a witness of the day bf the Lord, the day of wrath and of death which began qn that Friday of Nisan when the'Lamb was slaughtered Mount Calvary. + The Positive Aspect ot Celibacy: "'On Account ot the + Kingdom of Heaven'" + What has been said so far has shown that, according to the Bible, and according to Jeremiah and St. Paul es-pecially, celibate life is a prophecy in action, a forebodiiag of the end, a public proclamatioh of the fleeting character of this world. It goes without saying that this is only one aspect of the mystery. There is another one. The last days are not only days of doom: they are also days of resurrection. Jeremiah was not only the prophet of the fall of Jerusalem: he was also the prophet of the .new covenant (Jet 31:31= 35). Similarly for St. Paul the last days are only~secondarily days of woe: primarily, they are the days of the Par0usia~ when Christ will come and hand over to °the Father the world revivified by the Spirit (1 Cor 15). The Apocalypse~ ends its enumeration of th~ eschatological calamities~by the resplendent description~of the~heavenly ~Jerusalem° where everything is niade new (Ap 21). Christ's death:on Calvary was only the beginning of his exaltation 1~-15; 12:32-33). The full, prophetical meaning of virgin-ity is to be understood ifi reference td the whole mystery of death and life contained in Christ. Celibacy is 'not only an enacted prophecy of~th~ imminent doom: it announces also and anticipates the life to come, "the life of the new world in the Spirit. ~ ~ Jeremiah, who.had announced the new covenant, might' have understood that virginity would be the typical state~ in that new life which was.nol6nger to be granted bythe power of the flesh but by the Spirit. But in fact he does not seem to have realized these implications of~his prophetical' teaching. Or if he did, he had no occasion to express it. We have to come to the Gospels to find' this doctrine ex-pounded. ~ ¯ Jesus lived a celibate life. We~can not say that hlscase was unique. By the beginnings of the Christian era, the~ ideal of virginity seems to have been cultivated at least in some restricted circles of Judaism. We.have seen the rather~ mysterious case of the. Essenes. John~the Baptist also must tiave observed celibacy. This movement might explain the pu~rpose of virginity expressed by Mary in Luke 1:34. Jesus assumed that ideal and. by His very life fulfilled the la'tent aspirations it contained. Yet there is very little in the Gospels about virginity. This is not surprising. The Gospels are only factual: sum-maries. There is little in themfor introspection and self-~ analysis. They have,little to say. about Jesus' personal life. They do not tell us how he felt when praying;when work-ing miracles, when undergoing-the trials o~ His 'Passion. It is no wonder,., therefore, ~that they would be ~almost completely silent concerning Jesus' celibacy. This silence gives more value to the one statement of the Gospels in which Christ explained howh'e understood His virginity. It was on an occasion in which he had emphasized once more the law of~ indissolubility o[ matrimony. The dis-as See R. Laurentin, Structure et thdologie de Luc I-H iPa.ris: Gabalda, 1957). The Meaning Celibacy VOLUMEo20~. 1961 ,~ , 339 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ciples could hardly understand the intransigence of the Master. As usual, Jesus tried to bring light to the discus-sion by taking it to a.higher level. The heart of the matter is not the convenience of men but the requirements of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God does make exact-ing demands upon its members. See the case of those to whom it has been given to realize fully the implications of the coming of the Kingdom: they can be compared to eunuchsl "There are eunuchs who were born so from their mother's womb; and ttiere are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" (Mt 19:12). Though this pericope appears in Matthew 0niT, there is no reason to deny its authenticity, In his book on the synoptic Gospels, L. Vaganay insists several times that Matthew 19:10-12, along,, with several other passages, though appearing in one Gospel only, belongs to the oldest layer of the Gospel formation,~ .and to the most ancient tradition common to the three Synoptic Gospels.19 If the text figures in Matthew only, it is not because it was added afterwards to the~ final edition of Matthew: it is not a case of addition by Matthew but of omission by Marie and Luke. The pericope on the eunuchs has an archaic ring that would, have been shocking to Gentile ears. It is the kind of coarse Semitic paradox, frequent in the Bible, quite appealing to the rough peasants of Pal-estine accustomed to the loud and often brutal eloquence. 6f the prophets. It could hardly be exported to Greece or. even to Asia Minor, Syria., or Egypt. It is not surprising that Mark and Luke preferred to drop it. Yet "its very paradoxical aspect guarantees its authenticity.''20 More-over, the parallel text of Mark seems to leave traces of the amputation. In Mark 10:10, after the discussion with the Pharisees on matrimony, Jesus returns home together' with His disciples. There is a change of place and of audi-ence: Jesus is now in the intimate circle of His disciples. Usually when He retires together with them, it is to teach a deeper doctrine (Mk 4:10, 34; 7:17; 9:30; 10:32). One would expect here, "at home," further explanations on the views He has just exposed. Yet, according to Mark 10:10-12, Jesus merely repeats the elementary explana-tions ivhich, according to Matthew 19:9; 5:32 and Luke 16:18, He would as well give to the crowds. Does not this mean that in the source Mark used, there was "at home" some other deeper teaching imparted to the disciples? But l what other teaching was there except~the logion on the, 1~ L. Vaganay, Le probl~me synoptique ('rournai: Descl~e, 1954), pp.~167, 211, 216, and elsewhere. ~Ibid.,p. 167. iI eunuchs recorded by Matthew? Mark removed this saying, but the operation has left a scar in the text. If the pericope does belong to.th.e origins of the Gospel composition, there is no rea.soia to doubt that it was really an utterance of Jesus and this decides the question of its exact bearing. In the concrete context of jesus'ocelibate life, it is easy to find out to whom the third category of eunuchs refers. When the disciples heard that saying, they could~but think of Jesus Himself and possibly also of John the Baptist.!t is clear that Jesus here speaks of His own case and explains it. He does not advocate self-mutilation; He sets up His own example. He observed virginity and He did it con-sciously "in. view of God's Kingdom." John the Baptist had done it before Him; others would follow. Thus Jesus presents Himself as the leader~ in a line of men who; think-ing of God's Kingdom, will live like ~unuchs, giving-up the use of their sexual powers. But what is exactly the relation between virginity;and God's Kingdom? Why should one remain a celibate prop-ter regnum caelorura (in view of the Kingdom of God)? What is the precise value of that propter (dia ifi Greek)? In biblical Greek, dia with the accusative denotes causality or finality (out of, for the sake of, in view of). It is obvious that, in this'context, the meaning must be of finality. But this is still very vague, too vague to base on it an explana-tion of virginity. We can not build a theology on the strength of a preposition. If the preposition is vague, the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven," on the contrary, is clear enough. The 'Kingdom of.Heaven--or the Kingdom of God, since both phrases = This evidently settles the problem, discussed from the time of Origen onwards, of whether the saying should be understood in a realistic or in a symbolic sense. In Kittel's Theologisches Wb'rterbuch -urn Neuen Testament (TWNT), V. I, p. 590, Schmidt favors the ,ealistic interpretation: the saying would allude to people who ac-ually castrated themselves; it would invite the disciples not to imi-ate them but, at least, to reflect on their earnestness. Origen himself s a proof that there were such'cases in the early Church. But was it o during Jesus' own life time? It is rather doubtful and still more loubtful that Jesus would have set as an example this hypothetical berrant behavior. In the same TWNT of Kittel (2, p. 765), J. chneider maintains the traditional interpretation. The problem could be viewed also from the angle of Form Cdti- ,sin. What are the concrete circumstances in the life of the' ehrly ¯ hutch which led to a reminiscence of these words of-the" Master? 'Chat is the concrete problem to which they were given as an answer. t was most evidently the problem of the virgins, an acute problem as "e know from 1 Corinthians 7, and possibly also, together with it, he problem of the widows "who are truly widows" (1 Tim' 5:3; sde Cor 7: 8). According to J. Dupont, Mariag~ et divorce darts l'evangile ~ruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), the saying would refer to the case of husbands separated from their wives. This is a rather far- [etched $itz im Leben; moreover it overlooks completely the refer-ence to Jesus' own example. The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 196~. 341 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS haye the same significancem--appears as a key concept.of the ~synoptic Gospels. It.stands at the center of. Jesus' preaqhing. If not exactly in Judaism, at least in Jesus' mouth, it is ',a comprehensive term for the blessings of .salvation,''23 having practically .the same meaning as "the age to come" or "the life of the age to come2'~24 It is es-sentially an eschatglogical entity,. ,What the Jews had ~ !onged for,-the prophets had promised, and the apoca-lyptic writers had described, the new life coming from above, the new world, ~he new cov.enant imparted by God, t.h.e ~new Israel, the gift of ~he Sp'irit, Resurrection ,and Re,creation: it is all that.which is contained in God's Kingdom. ,Butmand th.i_s is the novelty of Jesus' teaching--with His coming, the eschatological world, the world to come has become present, though it remains unfulfilled. With the coming of Jesus the Kingdom of God offers the para-doxical character of being at the same time future and pre~ent. Jesus assures us that it is already present among us (Mr 12.:28; see Lk !2;21),but He also invites us to pray fpr~it.s coming (Mr 6:10). Exegetes have tried to rationalize ¯ this mystery by reduting Jesus' preaching to one or the other-aspect. The "co.nsequent eschatology" of A. Schweit-zer retaiged only the future aspect: the life-of Jesus was mere expectation of an imminent advent of the Kingdom,': expectation which was deceived by the event. On the con, ffary, the "realized eschatoIogy" of C. H. Dodd retains only the present element: with Jesus, the. Kingdom is .:presen~t and there is nothing ~to expect from the future; escha, to.logical elements should be dismissed as mere apoc- ~alyptical phraseology. Both views are only partial. Kiim-mel2~ and Cullmann,2n among others, have shown-that ihe integral' teaching of Christ combines both aspects. In Jesus the powers of the coming aeon are already active and the future Kingdom of God is already at work in the pres~' ent. The Spirit is given~ Yet He works only like a seed: present" in Jesus and in those who will follow Him, He has still to extend His influence to the whole world tillf His life-giving activity covers and trans,!orms the whole/ crea.t, ion. Such'is the meaning of,the parables ., of , the ¯ ~ "The Heaven" is a term used by the Jews as a' s u b s t i t uGtoed for to" a.yo.id, prgfiouncing the divine name. .m G. Dalman, The Words~o] Jesus (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1902), p.A35. Dalman shows thaLJesus somewhat altered the mean-ing of the phrase by giving .it a specifically eschatological value in connection with Daniel 7 : 27. So, though in Judaism the phrase should be translated "the kinship of God," it becomes, in Jesus' teachings, ~ynonymous with eschatological salvation. ~ Hence the equivalence with the Johannine theme of "eternal~ ~ ~ Pror~ise and Fulfilment (Naperville: Allenson, 1957). ~ Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950). Kingdom" (Mk 4 and parallels). We are still waiting for the end: the period we live in is at the same time "promise and fulfilment." This appears especially in the "signs" of the Kingdom. Accgrding to the biblical conception, a "sign" is not a pure symbol, faint image of a distant reality. It is the reality itself in its initial manifestation. In the biblical sign the coming reality is already contained, yet still hidden.27 Kiimmel has shown how in that sense J.esus' .victory over the devils and his miracles are signs of that kind.2s They show already "the coming, consummation of salvation breaking in on the present.''2s Cullmann has added to those signs the main ecclesiastical functions: the missionary preaching of the Gospel,s0 the cult and the sacraments for, in them also, in the Spirit, and "through the merits of Christ, everything is fulfilled which was ac-complished in the past history of salvation and which will be achieved in the future.''~1 In the light of Matthew 19:12 we can add virginity to those signs. Like the miracles and the sacraments virginity is a "sign. of the Kingdom," an anticipated realization of the final transformation, the glory of the world to come breaking in on the present condition. Such is the meaning of propter regnum caelorum. Jesus and many of those who follow Him refrain from sexu~al activity "in view of the Kingdom," that i~, to live already now the life of the world to come. Eschatological life has begun to stir in them and that life will be, and can already be now, a: life which has gone beyond the necessity and the urge of pro-creation. As with their preaching and miracles, Jesus and His "disciples by their celibacy proclaim the advent of the Kingdom, They exemplify already i.n_this world the fu-ture condition of men in the next aeon. As Jesus explained to the Sadducees (Mt 22:30 and parallels), in the world of Resurrection, "one shall neither marry nor be married, one will be like the angels in heaven." This does not mean that man in the Kingdom of God will be asexual, losing his human nature to become a pure spirit in the philosophical sense of the term. Such a philosophical consideration would be quite alien to the biblical mentality. Man was not made as a pure spirit neither in this world nor in the other, and consequently celibacy can not consist in trying to ape the angels. St. Luke explains the exact meaning of this analogy between the risen man and the angels in his rendering of the ~See J. Pedersen, Israel its Li[e and Culture (London: Oxford University Press, 1926), V. 1, pp. 168 ft. ~ Op. cit. (note 25), pp. 105-91. ~ Ibid., p. 121. ® O. Cullmann, Christ and Time. ~ O. Cullmann, Early Christian Worship (Chicago: Regnery, 1955i, p. $5. ÷ The Meaning ~elib~y VOLUME 20, 1961 343 4. L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 344 logion: "They shall neither marrynor be married for they are no more liable to die: for they are equal to the angels and they are sons of God, being sons of Resu~rrection'' (Lk 20: 35-36). The point of resemblance with the angels is not their spiritual nature but their immortality. It is account of his immortality that the risen man need no longer procreate. Life of Resurrection is no more a life "in the flesh," in a body doomed to death. It is a life God, a life of a son of God, life "in the Spirit," in a body transformed by the divine Glory. Hence the functions' the flesh become useless: procreation loses its meaning which was to make up for the ravages of death. The celibate shows by his cofidition that such life has already started. His celibacy testifies to what O. Cullmann has called "the prol~ptic deliverance of the body.''~2 proclaims that, in'Christ, despite the appearances, man escapes the clutches of death and lives in the Spirit. A passage of the Apocalypse echoes that teaching. Apoc-alypse 14:1-5 describes the glory of the Lamb in the heavenly Sion. There His throne is surrounded'by a hun-dred and forty-four thougand men, 'all those who "were redeemed from the earth." They represent the perfect number of all those who, saved by the Lamb, will con-stitute His retinue in the world to come; namely, all the elect. Their main characteristic consists in that "they are virgins" (v '~). Virginity must be understood metaphoric-ally: it means primarily fidelity to God by opposition idolatry, often described in Scripture as a "prostitution." Yet considering the realistic value of Hebrew symbolism, the concrete sense of virginity should not be altogether dismissed: "They have not defiled themselves with women" (v 4).~3 This does not mean that the author would make of virginity a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. This passage must be understood in parallel-ism with Chapter 7, which also describes a hundred and forty-four thousand men leading an innumerable multi-tude which surrounds the throne of the Lamb. While Chapter 14 they are all virgins, in Chapter 7 they are all martyrs. This should not be understood as meaning only martyrdom can lead to salvation. But it does mean that one has no access to the Kingdom unless "he washes his =O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: S.C.M., 1956), pp. 165-76. In his article CuIlmann does not extend his conclusions to the question 0f celibacy. He shows only that marriage has a special theological value since it "corresponds to the relation between Christ and His Church" (p. 173; see Eph 5:29). This view is quite true but should be completed by an awareness that the love between Christ and the Church is of an eschatological--hence virginal--type, The Spouse is a Virgin (see 2 Cot 11:2). Similarly, even conjugal love will have eventually to turn into the-eschatological virginal agape o! which celibacy is a prophetical type. = See L. Cerfaux and J~ Cambier, L',~pocalypse de saint Jean lue aux Chr~tiens (Paris: Cerf, 1955), pp. 124 ft. robe and makes himself white in the blood of the Lamb" (Ap 7:14). The martyr is the typical Christian for he shares the most closely in the cross of his Master. One cim not be a Christian unless he shares in.some way in the fate of the martyrs, in the cross of Christ: The same interpretatiori can be extended to the fourteenth chapter. "As martyrdom, virginity is eminently representative of Christian life. Even as' one can not be saved~without participating in the dignity of martyrdom, one can not be saved without participating in the dignity of .virginity. Virginit~y is a heavenly perfection, an anticipation, for those who are called to it, of what will be the final destiny of all in the Kingdom of Heaven.TM In the world to come all are virgins~ Even those who are married must keep their eyes on that ideal and know that their love has to turn into virginal charity. Those who remain celibate "in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" be!ong to the virginal retinue of their heavenly King the Lamb. As St. Gregory of Nyssa says: Virginal life is an image of the happi~aess that will obtain in the world to come; for it contains in itself many signs of the good things which in hope are laid before us . For when one brings in himself the life according to the flesh to an end, as far as it depends on him, he can expect "the blessed hope and the comin.g 9f the great God,;' curtailing the interval of the in-tervenlng generations between himself and God s advent. Then he can enjoy in the present life the choicest of the good things afforded by the Resurrection.= Thus the mystery of virginity, as any mystery of Chris-tian life, has a double aspect. It has a negative aspect: it represents the death of Christ and, through it, looks towards the complement of that death, the end of a!l, the apocalyptic consummation. It has also a positive aspect: it shows forth the new life in the Spirit, initiated by the Resurrection ofChrist, to be fulfilled at the Parousia. This doctrine is best embodied in the Lukan account of the virgin birth of Christ. Mary is a virgin (Lk 1:34) and, in her virginity, through the operation of the Spirit, she gave birth to Christ, the "first born" of the new world. Thus, in her virginal fecundity, she anticipated and even originated the re-creation of the world through the Spirit. In that account it must be first noticed that Luke-- and Mary--following the Hebrew mentality, do not extol virginity for its own sake. In the Magnificat Mary describes her condition of virgin as a condition of humilitas; that is, a low condition (Lk 1:48). This was exactly the term used by Anna in 1 Samuel 1 : 11 to qualify her disgrace of having ~' Ibid., p. 125. ~ De virginitate (Patrologia graeca, 46, col. 381 ft.). The theme of celibacy as heavenly life or angelic life is frequent in patristic litera-ture. See L. Bouyer, The Meaning o] Monastic LiIe (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 23-40. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celibacy voLUME 20, 1961 4- 4- 4- no child. In fact the whole narrative of the virgin birth of Christ in Luke is built in parallelism with the narratives of the Old Testament d.escribing how sterile women were made miraculously fecund by God.36 To some extent.Luke puts Mary's virginity on a par with the sterility of those women. By remaininga virgin, Mary shares in the wretch-edness of Jephte's daughter, in the abjection of the poor women who had no child (Gen 16:4; 1 Sam 1:1~16; Lk 1:25). She accepted willingly the utter poverty and the op-probrium of those who had no hope of reaching, in motherhood, their human plenitude and who conse, quently were rejected by the world as useless. But in the new Kingdom by God's transforming power, there is a reversal of the human values, The lowly are ex-alted (Lk 1:52), the poor possess the earth (Lk 6:20), those who weep laugh (Lk 6:21), the sterile and the virgins are visited by the power of the Spirit and become receptacles of the divine life. These are simply various aspects of the revolution of the cross turning infamy into glory, death into life. The glorious fecundity of Mary's humble vir-ginity contains already the mystery of the gross. Thelhope, lessness of her virginity points to the hopelessness of the cross: it proclaims, that the world is doomed and that no salvation is to be expected from the flesh. But the fecundity of that virginity presages the triumph of the cross: by the power of the Holy Ghost life will spring from death as it had sprung from the closed womb of a virgin. Thus Mary's virginity announces the disappearance of the world of flesh and the rise of a new world of the Spirit. Jeremiah's celi-bacy had prophesied the first part of the mystery. To Mary it~was given to see the fulfillment and to prophesy, in her life, both aspects of the imminent consummation. Mary's Virginity was prophetical: it turned towards the cross and anticipated the end; it ina~ugurated the~new worldwhere the flesh has no power, for that world knows no other fecundity than the fecundity of the Spirit. The charism oPvirgiriity in the Church continues and com-pletes that prophetical fUnction. Like Mary and Jesus, the Christian celibate renounces any worldly hope," for he knows th~it the world has no hope to propose. But, in his loneliness, he announces and through faith already en-joys the esc, fiato~logical visitation of the Spirit. ' u See S. Lyonhet, "Le r~cit de l'Annonciation," in L'ami du Clergd, 66 (1956), pp; 37-8, and J. P. Audet, "L'annonce h Marie," in Revue biblique 63 (1956), pp. 346-74. REVIEW FOR .RELIGIOUS BARRY MCLAUGHLIN, ~s.J. The Identity Crisis and , Religious Life We often hear it said that the child stabilizes the family. After the first four or five years of marriage the love of the honeymoon is usually exhausted: A new love unfolds. Ideally, it is the affection both parents share for the child that forms the basis for this newmand more maturebond of conjugal love. Perhaps a similar phenomenonJ occurs in religious life. After the first four or five years (or even much later sin~e circumstances and persons differ) a process of reintegra-tion takes place. The religious must re-examine and re-interpret his initial motives and goals. CA newer,° fresher love must supplant the older, faded love. And because ~he natural aids which married life affords are lacking', this transformation to a higher and more perfect love requires supernatural grace and natural maturity. There is no dichotomy here; rather, there is an inter-action. Since God has Himself implanted laws in nature, it is logical to suppose that He will follow the natural patterns operative in the human personality when He works through grace. And grace is, of course, necessary for any form of spiritual development. Yet it is imperative to emphhsize the Scholagtie'axiom that grace builds upon nature. Maturity, on the natural plane, is a prime requisite for supernatural progress and for this transformation of love. To hone Occam's raz6r to a new edge: miracles are not to be multiplied withofit necessity. Like sanctity, maturity develops slowly. For a mah is not born a saint. He is born to be a saint. The distinction is significant: men are not saints all at once; with God's grace men become saints. But-men first'become mature. Maturity, as the natural correlate and predisposition for sanctity, takes time. Psychologists point to a series of crises preliminary to its attainment. " We are especially interested in the "crisis of idehtity" ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry $. McLaughlin, S.J., 3700 W. Pine Bou-levard, St, Louis 8, Mis-souri, is doing graduate studies in psychology at St, ~'~Uis ~Jniversity. VOLUME 20~ 1961 347 the crisis contemporary With the process of re-integration and re-evaluation which occurs once the novelty and freshness of the early years of religious life have disap-peared. Resolution of the identity crisis allows a more mature and transformed love to unfold. But several more basic crises must b~ resolved first. ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry M cLaughlin, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 Development Toward Maturity One of the most widely used theoretical conceptions of psychological development.is the neo-Freudian synthesis proposed by Erik H. Erikson. At a given age, because of physical, intellectual, and emotional maturation, a human being willingly and necessarily faces a new life task. A Set of choices and tests are prescribed for him by his ciety's structure. This new life task presents a crisis. The outcome of this crisis can be successful graduation or im-pairment of the life cycle (which will aggravate future crises). Each crisis prepares for the next--each is a step taken in the direction of the ne~t, until the adult identity is attained. The first crisis is the one of early infancy. What is at stake here, the psychologist feels, is the question of whether a man's inner mood will be determined more by basic trust or basic mistrust. The outcome of this crisis is de-pendent largely upon the quality of maternal care. The mother's affection and her gratification of the child's needs lend a certain pr~edictability and hopefulness in spite of the urgency and bewildering nature of the baby's bodily feelings. This first crisis corresponds roughly to what Freud has described as orality; the second to anality. An awareness of these correspondences is essential for a true understand- ]ng-of the dynamics involved. The second crisis, resolved usually by the fourth year, develops the infantile sources of the sense of autonomy. In this period the child learns to ,~iew himself as an indi-vidual in his own right, apart from his parents although dependent upon them. If there are conditions which in-terfere with the child's achievement of a feeling of ade-quacyv- if he fails, for example, to learn to walk during this ~period--then the alternative is a sense of shame or doubt pervading later adult consciousness (or uncon-sciousness). The third crisis is a part of what Freud described as the central complex of the family; namely, the Oedipus com-plex. According to the opinion of many psychoanalysts, this crisis involves the lasting unconscious association of sensual freedom with the body of the mother; a lasting association of cruel prohibition with the interference of the father; and the consequent love and hate in reality and in phantasy. This is the stage of.initiative; correspond- ing to Freud's phallic stage of psychosexuality. It is the period of vigorous reality testing, imagination, and imi-tation of adult behavior. The major hazard to the solution of this crisis is an overly strict discipline which produces a threatening conscience and flae internalization of rigid and exaggerated (non-rational) ethical attitudes. In the fourth stage the child, now between six and eleven years old, becomes capable of learning intellectually and collaborating with others. The resolution of this stage decides much of the ratio~between, a. sense of in-dustry and a sense of tool-inferiority. A man learns simple techniques which will prepare him for the tasks of his culture. A. rational sense of duty and obligation is also involved here, and the laying aside of fantasy and play for the undertaking of real tasks and the development academic and social competefice. This stage corresponds to the.Freudian latency period. The Identity Crisi~ We are chiefly concerned inthis ~rticle with the identity crisis, first of~all in its broader, cultural dimensions, and then within the specific framework of the religious life. The young~adolescent in our culture must~clarify his understanding of who he is and what his role is to be. He must forge for himself some central perspective and direc-tion, some effective integration, ou_t :of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adulthood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosi~s,-psy-chosis, or delinquent behavior. More frequently,, however, there is a generalized sense of role diffusion. The possession of a role within the culture and,of standards of cultural living constitutes the social side of identity. In addition, there is an optimum ego synthesis to which the. individual himself aspires. The Judeo-Chris-dan tradition and the ideals of the American heritage stress the immeasurable worth of _the individual person. The dignity of the individual, respect for the individual, self-det~rmination these are phrases which attest to our consciousness of the value of personal identity. Each per-son is certain of what is in fact true: that he stands at the center of a unique network of relationships, experiences, influences. He is different and he knows it. Consciousness of the value.of personal identity and a strong sense of personal uniqueness do not,. ho.wever, neces-sarily imply a resolution of the crisis of identity. In some young people, in some classes, at certain periods of history, the identity crisis will be minimal; in other people, classes, and periods this crisis will be clearly marked off as a criti-cal period. There is considerable evidence that in our cul-ture today the identity crisis is of maximal importance, that most individuals undergo a prolonged identity crisis. ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 20, 1961 349 ÷ 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 During this crisis there is a desperate urgency, often con-cealed under the camouflage of social conventions, to resolve the problem of what one should' believe0in and who one should be or become. Three crises follow the crisis of identity; they concern problems of intimacy, generativity, and integrity. What role diffusion is~to identity, its alternative and danger, isolation is to intimacy, egocentric nonproductivity is to generativity, and the lack of consistent values is to integ-rity. When~ the identity crisis is prolonged, these three crises are interwoven with it. The resolution of the identity crisis brings concomitantly the resolution of intimacy, gen-erativity, and integrity crises: A lasting sense of ego identity is the characteristic of the mature adult. The Identity Crisis in the American Culture Victor Frankl, one of the leading .proponents of Ex-istential psychology, has pointed out that Freudian psy-choanalysis has introduced into psych.ological research what it calls the pleasure principle or the will-to-pleasure. Adler has' made psychologists conversant with the role of the will-to-power as a main factor in the formation of neurosis. But Frankl maintains that man is neither dominated by the will-to-pleasure nor by the will-to-power, but by What he'would call man's will-to-meaning; that is, man's deep-seated striving for a higher and~ultimate mean-ing to his existence. Frankl .has perhaps overstated his case; it is more likely a question of emphasis. But the will-to-meaning does re-flect the modern concern with personal identity and, in this sense, is probably as strategic in our time as the study of sexuality was in Freud's time or the study of the drive" for power in Adler~s time. , It is signific~int,-too, that concern with matters of identity is greatest in this country. Psychologists and psychoanalysts recognize th~at in America especially adult patients hope to find in the psychoanalytic system a refuge from the discontinuities 6f existence and a re-gression to a more patriarchal one-to-one system. America has been a melting-pot, a country which attempts to make a super-identity otit of the' identities imported by its constituent immigrants. Previous agrarian and patri-cian identities have been" submerged in the wake of the rapidly increasing ,mdchanization of industrial technology. Frequently the American man has been unable to formu-late his new identity. Depreciation-of.the American way of life is, of course, the favorite indoor sport of cultural critics. The per-tinence of their remarks is not always apparent,.yet in the present context several criticisms'are relevanf. They point out some Of the reasons for the identity crises of con- temporary Americans. From these criticisms we can gain some understanding of the identity crisis of the American man and ultimately of the identity crisis of the (American) religious man. In Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, Biff'exempli-ties an American "type." Society 'has failed to provide him with a clearly defined role: "I just can't take hold, Mom, I just can't take hold of some kind of life.''1 He-lives in constant frustration, unaware of who he.is or what he is to be. And many psychoanalysts feel thatBiff's number is legion. That Biff should address his problems to Morn is sig-nificant, During World War II the expression "Momism' came :into existence :as a means of denoting a type of per- _~onality commonly :encountered in ybung men. There is ¯ n excessive dependence upon and 'attachment' to, the ,nother, with but feeble' attachment to:the father and no =lear image gained through him of man's role. Psychol-ogists have commented upon the probable roots of this phenomenon: the absence, both physically and psycho: logically, of the father from many American urban, and .uburban homes. Because of the conditions of .ecdnomic ~nd social life, many fathers have neither the opportunity qor the inclination to "take on" their sons in the way that a, as common, for example, in the days of the older patri-archal society. This is the first cause we wish to mention "or the prolongation of the crisis of identity: . the failhre ~,f the father in our culture to give to the son a clear image ,f the masculine personality and the role of man. ~ :~ 'Critics have also noted the American fear of loneliness. Individual identity is sacrificed in an effort to stay. close o the herd, to be no ~different from others in" thought, eeling, or action. To stand aside, to be alone, is t6 assert ¯ personal identity which refuses to be submerged. So-iety will not tolerate this; innumerable social features are lesigned to prevent it: stadiums to accommodate~thou-ands at sport events, open doors of private rooms and of- ¯ ces, club cars on trains, shared bedrooms ih colleges and ,oarding houses, countless clubs, organizations; associa-ions, societies, canned music (for gilence~is unbearable) ,iped~into hotel rooms, railway cars, and supermarkets. Yet one of the surest signs of the resolutio~ of' the iden-ity crisis is an increased capacity for .being alqne, for ~eing responsible for oneself.~The gradual process that ¯ ill end in perfect identity involves 'an awareness of he'fact that there are decisions in life and aspects of life's truggle tha~t a l~erson mu~t fa~e alone. ~o Fgr~. a~ young person becomes dearer in his own mind ,f his role in society and of his personal identity he is a In J6hn Gassner (ed.), Best American Plays: Third Series, 1945- 951 (New York: Crown, 1952), p. 19. Identity, ~risis~ VOLUME 20~ 196~. 4. 4., 4. Barr~ MeLaughlin, $.L REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 352 likely also to become more aware of how he differs from others. Gradually he becomes conscious of his isolation from others, not because others are pulling away but be-cause the fullness of personal identity cannot be achieved without.some degree of aloneness. Here we have a para-dox: the more richly a person lives, the more lonely, in a sense, he becomes. And as a person, in his isolation, .be-comes more able to appreciate the moods and feelings of others, he also becomes more able to have meaningful relationships with them. But the unwritten code of our national culture pro-hibits aloneness, and this is the second causative factor for a prolonged identity crisis: the obstacles our society im-poses to the cultivation'of a sense of personal identity. Finally, we see what the critics refer to as the "deper-sonalization" of man by the mass media. "Man is losing himself," Emmanuel Mounier wrote, "in his handiwork instead ~of losing himself in his consciousness; he has not been liberated.''2 There is much that could be said about these factors and their deleterious effects upon a sense of individual identity; but much has already been said by the critics, What is of primary interest here is that mass media standardize thought by supplying the spectator ~ith a ready-made visual image before he has time to construct a rational interpretation of his own. Man has come to'ac-cept ideas and attitudes without having submitted these to himself for intellectual decision. Man is so much a part of the verbal noise going on around him that he does~not notice what the noise is conveying to him. There are, of course, many other causative factors contributing to our national and individual identity crises Millions of young people face these and other psychologi-cal and social obstacles to identity and transcend them in one way or another. If not, they live, as Captain Ahab says, with half their heart and with only oneof their lungs, and the world is the worse for it, The Identity Crisis in the Religious Life The religious man--and by this is meant the man pos~ sessing a fundamentally God-oriented personalitydis of course, immune from cultural influences. Yet as Erikso observes in his book on Luther,., He is always older, or in early years suddenly becomes older than his pla.ymates or even his parents and teachers, and focuses in a precocious way on what it takes others a lifetime to gain a mere inkling of: the question of how to escape corruption i living and how in death to give meaning to life. Because he e periences a breakthrough to the last problems so early in hit life maybe such a man had better become a martyr and seal his message with an early death; or else become a hermit in a soil ="A Dialogue with Communism," Cross Currents, v. $ (195~ p. 127. i! tude which anticipates the Beyond. We know little of Jesus of Nazareth as a young man, but we certainly cannot even begin to imagine him as middle-aged? This short cut between the youthful crisis of identity and the mature one of integrity makes the religious man's problem acutely intense. In addition, the method of "indoctrination" to which he subjects himself aims at sys-tematically descending to the .frontiers where all ego dan-gers must be faced in the raw, where personal guilt is un-covered, drives tamed by prayer and asceticism, and where, ultimately, self must abandon and transform its own identity. In a sense, only "religious geniuses''4 are cgpable of such an enterprise. Yet the man or woman who enters religious life specifically chooses to face this challenge. Per-haps the most important ramification of the life of the vows is the consequent necessity of mature personal iden-tity. There are those, however, who consider it dangerous, unreasonable, and even in a sense against nature, to com-mit a young person in perpetuity to the religious life. Martin Luther became convinced that religious commit-ment was impossible to a man under thirty years of age. A young man of twenty does not know what th~ future may have in store, what sacrifices he may have to accept. He has only a very general view of what religious life will be and his final renunciation can only be made when he knows in detail and as a whole what such a life entails. Yet St. Thomas held that a person could decide upon a religious vocation years be~fore puberty. This poses a problem which involves more than a ques-tion of the religious vocation. It is concerned 'with one of the fundamental aspects of the problem of life. The ma-ture man is future-oriented; for him life is a continuous whole. In his youth he finds that he must commit him-self to an identity, to a course to which he will remain bound in the future. His acts are weighted with the future. If a man refuses to commit himself, identity becomes im-possible. Marriage and the religious vocation are the two funda-mental forms of commitment. When a man marries he is unaware of the trials and responsibilities'of marriage; he does not know what it is to have a dependent wife and children. But the will to do that which is irrevocable de-pends on the strength of a person's love. A love which is genuine takes possession of the whole of the personality. Then it desires to be irrevocable. This notion of commitment is most perfectly delineated in the thought of Gabriel Marcel: I see it like this. In the end there must be an absolute com- " The Young Man Luther (New York: Norton, 1958), p. 261. 'Jean Dani~lou, s.J., God and the Ways o] Knowing (New York: Meridian Books, 1957), p. 10. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry MeLaugh!in, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 354 mitment, entered upon by the whole of myself, or at least by something real in myself which could not be repudiated with-out repudiation of the whole--and which would be addressed to the whole of Being and would be made in the presence of that whole. This is faith. ObViously, repudiation is still a possibility .here, but ,cannot be justified by a change in the subject or object; ~t can only be explained by a fall? This notion, of personal commitment leaves little room for the so-called "temporary vocation" (which is actually a contradiction in terms), even when this is understood as an actor the permissive will of God which allows a person, for his sanctification, to live for some time as a religious and with religious vows. Although a person does grow and develop as he lives out his commitment, although his in-itial love deepens into a more perfect and more mature love, there can be no possibility of a repudiation. This would be a denim of identity and is only explained by a "fall." These are strong words, and are not, of course, meant to be dogmatic. The nature and binding force of a religious commitment such as life with vows requires much more adequate theological analysis. Yet the problem remains. The religious man must be mature before, his time. Ultimately it is a question of the initial acquisition of what Lindworsky calls the "'voca-tional ideal": Before every man there stands~ a picture of that which he should become; and never will he be fully at peace, undl the ideal shown in that picture has been brought to perfect rgaliza-tion. G This provides a focal' point for personal identity within the religious vocation. Perfect identity is not something acquired in its fullness all at once. It comes at the termina-tion of a long and gradual process of growth. Each step along the way presents new difficulties and necessitates closer scrutiny and deeper meditation upon the nature of the identity chosen. There must be a gradual transforma-tion and identification with Christ. ¯The vocational ideal guides the individual to this new identity within the confines of a life of the vows. Gradu-ally the significance of each vow becombs apparent. Each involves a secondary crisis of its own, a danger to personal identity. Once each of these crises are faced and resglved perfect identity is realized. By his vow of poverty the religious man is thrust once more--thi~ time on a much more conscious and more spiritual level--into the primary crisis of trust. In a real (though qualified) sense, religious experience, as Erikson points out, retraces our earliest inner experiences, giving ~ Being and Having (Glasgow: University Press, 1949), pp. 45-46. o Johannes Lindworsky, S.J., The Psychology o! Asceticism (West-minster: Newman, 1950), p. 15. angible form to vague evils and reaching back to the .~arliest moments of childhood. The child must learn to rust his mother; the religious man ~must learn 'to rust God. Only then can he venture out into the.apparent cold which lack of possessiong m~ans to his natural un- ]erstanding and to his provident instincts. Otherwise he "alls into a new and much worse predicament. When a nan has adopted poverty, he will take daily action to keep dive his trust in God; and from the constantly reiterated :onfirmation ~of this t~'ust, he will draw nourishment "or ~his love of God. Voluntary poverty is an attempt to live so strongly upon he inner surge of love for Christ that external supports :an be reduced to a minimum. It is an attempt to be as ~nuch as possible. It is an incentive for a man to restore ~rder of the right kind to his own life and in his relations o God and his fellows. To he more a man and more truly ~ man, as completely and perfectly a man as~possible~: hat is the purpose of the yow of poverty. Failure to achieve uch an identity is its danger. .Chastity also entails a crisis. Th~ religious community "isks becoming an assembly of old bachelors or old maids, whose egoism is concealed beneath a facade of renunci-ation. The mainstay of the family is conjugal love and the ove between the parents and their children. In tl~e re-igious life it is God alone who is the bond, and the corn-non life cannot be sanctified except insofar as the person, ~y loving God, passes beyond its natural aspects.-The ring of mortification is always there because the affections :stablished between members of a community do not form hat personal link which is characteristic of the family. The religious man finds affection, but this is on a piritual plane, leaving certain sides ofthe human per-onality unsatisfied. Men do not go to religious life to ind what they normally find in the family. There is friend-hip, but basically a religious man's life is in God, and n,God one is alone. Fundamental solitude: God is the ~ortion of his inheritance. Psychologically, this involves a sublimation of the nost radical type, yet Freud himself admitted its possi-bility and its actual fulfillment in St. Francis of Assisi nd others. A new and different identity must be forged. In order to arrive at being everything, desire to be noth-ng," wrote St. John of the CrossF This crisis involves, ~asically, final surrender of self-identity and union and bs0rption into the identity of Christ. The vow of ob'edience entails an equally radical crisis. Fhe religious man's identity threatens to be submerged. The Ascent of Mount Carmel, 1, 13, I1 in E. A. Peers (ed. and rans.), The Complete Work o] St. John o] the Cross (Westminster: ~ewman, 1953), v. 1, p. 62. Identity Crisis VOLUME 20,~ 1961 355 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 Existentialist literature especially makes this point: "W~ want freedom for freedom's sake and in every particula circumstance," writes Sartre. "Those who hide their com plete freedom from themselves out of a spirit of serious ness, I shall call cowards.''s Self-identity seems impossibh without the freedom to choose, to determine one's owt conduct and profit or suffer by the consequences. This i a notion rooted in contemporary American Protestan ideals. So much so ttiat William James admitted: It is difficult even imaginatively to comprehend how men po~, sessed of an inner life of their own could ever have come t think the subjection of its will to that of other finite creature recommendable. I confess that to myself it seems something o a mystery? There is a paradox here. When'the religious ma empties himself of his own will (not to other finite crea tures, of course, but to God), at that moment the whol world enters in to fill the vacant space. The saint has n~ particular desires. He seeks only to be allowed to disap pear. He reveals the world to mankind as God has willet it. Yet more than any other man, the saint is responsible He is aware of his obligation to choose for himself. Th terrible duty of the saint is the duty to choose consistentl the "chOice of God. There is one other aspect to the identity crisis in re ligious life, the professional aspect. There are two side to the identity crisis: achievement of personal identity an~ of social identity. We have discussed in some detail th religious man's growth in personal identity. There is als the social role of religious men and women in Americ today, the role of teacher and scholar. Much has been wrftten and much said about the pligh of the American Catholic educational endeavor. We ar concerned here with but one facet of these discussions the undeniable need of Catholic educators to dedicat themselves completely to the subjects they teach. Thi dedication must mean a commitment of the sort which in volves the individual completely in the field he is intel ested in, so much so that he is eager and enthusiastic to se and to contribute to its progress. And since there is fi way to dedicate oneself to learning from the outside, th individual must devote himself totally to his field. A b] stander is too uncommitted. As Father Ong has observed If there is anything that our American Catholic education suffel from, it is the fact that too many of us are not committed enoug to the subjects we profess, not dedicated to them with that tot~ ~Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism (New York: Philosophical brary, 1947), pp. 54--55. ~ The Varieties o! Religious Experience (New York: Longma Green, 1909), p. 311. :~ edicati~n which, for us, should be part of our religious dedica- ~on of God Himself, who makes human knowledge to advance.10 It would seem that many religious men and women, who ,ave to a great extent resolved aflm~i~rably the problems of ,ersonal vocational identity, have not resolved the prob-ems of social identity, have not seen clearly their own role s teachers and scholars. Perhaps the opposite is 6ften true, ,ut in either case it is apparent that there is need "for a uccessful resolution of the identity crisis on both levels nd for an integration at an even higher level. ",6nclusion The gyeatness of man consists in his origin, his nobility s a creature, as a child of God. But more than this: there s also his vocation; man is called upon to co-operate with he divine liberty in the creation of his own identity. This nvolves a process of what Dietrich Von Hildebrand calls 'confronting all things with Christ.''n The saint alone ,as solved the identi.ty crisis perfectly. He has transformed fis self-identity into the identity of Christ. Each saint s a pane of glass of a different color through which Christ's adiance shines. But we all are called to be saints. And if maturity is a ,rerequisite to sanctity, the resolution, with grace, of cer-ain psychological crises is necessary. Above all the reso-ution of the identity crisis, usually concomitant with the ,rocess of re-examination and re-evaluation which occurs ,nce the novelty of the early years of religious life has ,assed, prepares the way to sanctity. Each religious, like he saint, must deepen and transform his love. There is a continuity in life which the saint makes nanifest. The child persists in the man; the mature adult ,as grown out of" childhood without losing childhood's ,est traits. He retains the basic emotional strengths and he stubborn autonomy of the infant, the capacity for onder and pleasure and playfulness of the preschool ears, the capacity for affiliation and the intellectual curi- ,sity of the school years, and the idealism and passion of dolescence. He has incorporated these into a new pattern ;ominated by adult stability, wisdom, knowledge, re-ponsibility, strength, and prudence. The saint is not a man apart from, and outside of, the ;retchedness of everyday life. He is not a man in corn- ,union with God and out of communion with other men. ~ecause he lives in close contact with God, because he has onformed his mind to the mind of Christ, the saint is the ~Walter Ong, S.J., American Catholic Crossroads (New York: ¯ *acmillan, 1959), pp. 104-05. n Translormation in Christ (New York: Longmans, Green, 1948), ¯ 74. VOLUME 20, 1961 357 one man who is in communion with us, while all other live apart. This is why the saint is the per[ectly mature individual at once the most sensitive and the most spiritual o[ men The most sensitive because nothing and no one in world finds him unresponsive, since he is always in mediate and loving contact with persons and things. He the most spiritual o[ men, ~or every movement o[ his sonality has its origin in the realization that Christ measure o[ all things, the source o[ his own identity. embodies per[ectly the words of St. Paul: "So we shal reach per[ect manhood, that maturity which is propor ¯ tioned to the complete growth of Christ" (Eph 4:13). Barr~ McLaughlin, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 358 ROBERT F. WEISS, S.J. The Christ of the Apocalypse Toward the end of his long life in the closing years of the first century, our Lord's beloved disciple, the apostle St. John, penned from his place of exile on the island of Patmos a beautiful message of hope and encouragement for the Christian churches. The style: 0f this letter, the last book of the Bible, is apocalyptic; that is, it deals with the revelation made to John of things present and pastas well as future. Its theme 'is the ,triumph of Christ. In images of surpassing beauty, St. John describes for all ages the glorious King of kings. Although it is the same Christ of the Gospels whom we meet here, a great change has come over Him. He is still "like unto a son of man," but He no longer has the weaknesses and limitationS of His humanity. We will see Him in settings of majesty, power, and triumph--all of which are meant to stir up hope, love, and courage for the struggle ahead, for the difficulties and persecutions the Church must always suffer. He has already conquered. This is Christ as He is now, and yet His victory is being constantly repeated. The message is, therefore, one of personal concern for all Christians of every .age. "Blessed be the man who reads this prophecy," says John, "and those who hear it read and heed what is written in it, for the time is near." For each one of us the battle is now raging, and the end of our own struggle is approaching. Christ conquered sin and death long ago; but as long as this world lasts, the conflict goes on. Not until the last day will Ghrist:s triumph be final and complete. But for us, each individual, the time is near and Christ is coming soon. John begins his epistle in a Trinitarian setting, using a salutation much like Paul's as he wishes peace and blessing to the seven churches in Asia from "Him who is and was and is coming"--the Father--"and from the seven spirits befOre His throne"--the Holy Spirit represented by His Robert F. Weiss, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University, 221 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 3, Mis-souri. VOLUME 20, 1961 359 + 4. 4. Rober~ F. Wei~s~ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 360 sevenfold gifts--and "from Jesus Christ." The full title, Jesus Christ, used here in connection with the other per-sons of the Blessed Trinity, is not used again until the very last verse in the letter. John seems to prefer Jesus alone, in this way emphasizing the humanity of the glorious Christ and His identity with the historical person who lived and suffered. Christ alone as a title occurs only four times. All of these are in the last half of the book in settings of solemnity and majesty and in close association with name of God. John's favorite title for Christ is, as will later, the Lamb, although he also .uses Son of God and Son of Man. The apostle's cast of mind is revealed by the prayer Of praise he offers to Christ at the outset--"to Him who loves us and has released us from our sins." This Christ "has made us a kingdom of priests for His God and Father." Just as Israel when set free from Egypt acquired a national life under its divinely appointed king, so Church, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, makes up a holy nation. As kings, the faithful of Christ will reign all the peoples; as priests, united to Christ the Priest, they will offer to God the Whole universe in a sacrifice of praise. In his magnificent opening vision, John sees the glorified and idealized human form of Christ: a being like a man, wearing a long robe, with a gold belt around his breast. His head and hair were as white as white wool, as white as snow; his eyes blazed like fire; his feet were like bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the noise of mighty waters. In his right hand he held seven stars; from his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword, and his face shone like the sun at noonday. The garments are the first object to catch John's attention. The figure wears a long robe of the priesthood and girded with the belt of royalty. His snow white hair His eternity, and His eyes blazing like fire repre-sent His divine knowledge. Feet glowing like bronze furnace symbolize His power and utter stability. His voice, which is compared to the thundering rush of a waterfall, and His face, shining like the noonday sun, which recalls the glorious transfiguration on Mount Tabor, give Him a majesty that is terrifying. In His right hand are seven stars representing the seven churches over which He has power and care. It was among seven lampstands that this figure had appeared; they are likewise churches and signify His omnipresence. From His mouth comes the sharp two-edged sword of the word of God which has power to condemn or reward. This is He who is "coming on the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even the men who pierced Him." John is so overawed by the sight that he falls at the feet of Christ like a dead man. But our Lord lays His hand him and tells him not to be afraid. For He is the first and tlie last, that is, the Creator and the last end of all things. He is the Living One, an idea prominent in the tliinking of the Hebrews. Theirs is a living God, not the dead idols of their pagan neighbors. Chi'ist ~a~ defid, crudi~ed; yet here He is alive forever and ever. He has risen from the dead never to die again. More than that, He holds the keys of death and the underworld, over which as God He alone has power. He carries the key of David and thus has ab-solute authority to admit or exclude anyone'from the city of David, the new Jerusalem. He "operis and no one shall shut, and'shuts and no one shall open." This is the Christ of the Apocalypse, infinitely majestic and august. He wiil come in the end seated on a cloud, and with a single swing of His sickle the' harvest of the earth will be reaped. His prhdominant characteristic is unbounded power. Only once or twice, it is said, does the tenderness of Christ's compassion or the intimacy of His fe!lowship with men make itself felt in this book. Yet when it does, it is unexpected and most poignant. Afier rebuking and praising, encouraging the faithful and castigating the tepid, Christ concludes: I reprove and discipline all whom I love. So be earnest and re: pent. Here I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice ~and opens the door, I will be his guest and dine With him, and he with me. I will permit him who is victorious to take his seat.beside my father on his throne. In apocalyptic literatur~e Christ is frequently pictured as a judge at the door. Hire the beloved disciple sees Christ not as a judge but as a friend inviting us to :the closest kind 6f intimate companionship. For the Orientals the Lidea of perfect friendship is represented by the notion of taking a meal together. Since it is not uncommon for John to use words with additional connotations, even with a triple meaning, he may well be alluding here also to the Holy Eucharist, in which Christ Himself becomes our food, as ~vell as to the banquet prepared for the faithful in heaven. Even in this setting of gentle and tender intimacy, the glory awaiting the loyal friends of Christ is not forgotten. The place asked by their mother for the sons of Zebedee is to be had by all those who are faithful unto the end. The risen and ascended Christ is all in all to the members of His Church. He loves them; He redeemed them; and He has made them what they are, a new Israel, a kingdom of priests. In the succeeding visions, John prefers to speak of Christ as the Lamb. This is not to be looked on as a photograph or a picture or even as an imaginative'representation. Like the other images used, it is a symbol, a thought-representa~ tion to be taken according to its intellectual content. ~Th~ images are not essential and sho~uld not be retained. The ÷ The Christ o] the Apocalypse VOLU~E 20, 1961 361 + + ÷ Robert F. Weiss, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 author wishes to convey an idea, and that is all the image should be used for. He gives us a succession of these sym-b~ Is~rom ~hich he wishes us.to take an idea and then move on to the next. This is especially true of the various qualities ascribed to Christ whom he will repeatbdly iefer to as simply the Lamb. This is not the sacrificial Lamb of Isaiah about whom John is speaking; rather it is the Lamb as a leader. He the strong one, the sheperd 0f the faithful who will guide them.to the springs of living water, the fountain of which is God Himself. It is this Lamb alone who can break the seals and open the book upon which are written the secrets of history-~the story of the great sufferings to endured, the conflict that will rage, and Christ's ultimate and magnificent victory. The Lamb, has seven horns signify His unlimi~ted power and seven eyes as symbols His vast knowledge. As so frequently in the peculiar apoc-alyptic style of this letter, the number seven is used to completeness and plenitude. The Lamb as John sees Him appears as if slaughtered, and yet He lives. He has conquered sin and death. He was slain as a victim, but only the splendid results of sacrifice remain. To Him indeed belong the ~rerogatives of God. He is spoken of more and more, as John's account proceeds, in the same breath with God the Father. He has a share in the works of God. "Our deliverance is the work of our God who is seated on the throne and of the Lamb." In the glorious day of the heavenly Jerusalem, Christ Lamb will reign with His Father. John saw this Jerusalem: the holy city, coming down out of heaven from God, in all the glory of God. It shone with a radiance like that of some very precious stone, like jasper, clear as crystal . I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God, the'Almighty, and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun nor the moon to shine in it, for the glor~ of God lighted it, and the Lamb is its lamp. The heathen will walk by its. light. The kings of the earth will bring their splendor to ,t. Its gates will never be shut by day--for there will be no night there and they will bring the splendor and the wealth of the heathen into it. Noth!ng unclean will ever enter it. In this day God will make "all things new." The apostle is trying to describe heaven in .this passage using the language of the Old Testament with which his readers were familiar. The essential jo~ of this state of glory is that God will be with those who have remained faithful and they will be with Him. Everything good will also be in heaven, but the presence of God will be everything. God and His Christ are its sanctuary; God's glory will light it; the Lamb will be its lamp. There will be no need for a temple other than God or for the intermediary of religion, for God Himself will be possessed. The Lamb in the day of judgment can be terrible in His anger, and as a shepherd He rules with a rod of iron. But there is an arresting touch of tenderness in the glimpse we are given of the glorious victory to which .He will lead His followers: They are the people who come through the great pe~secuti0n, who haveowashed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. That is why they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his :temple, and he who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will never be hungry or thirsty again, and never again will the sun or any burning heat distress them, for the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes., Seel God's dwelling is with men, and he will live with them. They will be .his people and God himself will be with them. Those who come through the time of tribulation are those who have washed their :robes in the blood of the Lamb. This symbolic expression includes both the idea of salva-tion through the death, of Christ and theoactivity of-the faithful' themselves signified by the washing. Their reward will be to participate in the worship of God day and night. With typical Hebrew reverence for the name of God, John speaks of Him "who is seated on the throne" rather, than repeat the sacred name: Just as in the land of promise there was to be a cessation of suffering, so in heaven the faithful will be eternally free from all care and want and every sort of mental distress or bodily pain. For the Hebrews water was scarce and very precious; a plentiful source of it signi- ,fled abundance and prosperity. The water here is a symbol of God's grace, and God is its source. John's vision is in terms of the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah, but now in Christ the fulfillment is assured. There isone other appearance of Christ which must be mentioned, perhaps the most striking vision of all. Before, we saw the temple; now heaven itself is opened, andwe see the magnificent, triumphant Warrior-King followed by the armies of heaven: Then I saw heaven thrown open and there appeared a white horse. His rider was called Faithful and True, and he judges and wages war in uprightness. His eyes blazed like fire. There were many diadems on his head, and there was a name written on him which no one knew but himself. The garment he wore was spattered with blood, and his name was the word of God. The armies of heaven followed him mounted on white horses and clothed in pure white linen. From his mouth came a sharp sword with which he is to strike down the heathen. He will shepherd them with a staff of iron, and will tread the winepress of the

Transcript of an oral history interview with Maurice Homer Smith, conducted by Jennifer Payne at Colonel Smith's home in Northfield, Vermont, on July 30, 2013, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Maurice "Moe" Smith was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1934 from Morrisville and Hyde Park, Vermont. After graduating from Norwich University, he taught school in Barton, Vermont, for a couple of years before joining the Army and serving in the military from 1940 to 1956. He later returned to Norwich University as an employee, working many different jobs over eighteen years. At the time of this interview, he was Norwich University's oldest living alumnus at age 102. ; Page 1 Colonel Maurice Smith, NU 1934, Oral History Interview July 30, 2013 112 Winter Street, Northfield VT 05663 Interviewed by Jennifer K. Payne Transcribed by Lindsay J. Gosack, February 4, 2014 Edited by C.T. Haywood, '12, January 13, 2015 Jennifer Payne (JP): This is Jennifer Payne with Maurice Homer Smith. The date is Tuesday, July 30, 2013, and we're at his home at 112 Winter Street in Northfield, VT. So let me start with some of the basic questions. I know we've gone over some of this, but this is just for the people who will hear it for the first time. Um, which class, what are you, what is your Norwich class? Maurice Homer Smith (MHS): 1934. JP: And, ah, your date of birth? MHS: 26 July, 1911. [sound of a door opening and closing in background] JP: Which makes you? MHS: 102 JP: 102 MHS: [Chuckles] I'm being interviewed here, FRIEND OF MHS: Go ahead! MHS: Can you stand by? MHS: Sit down. [Introducing someone] This is my buddy. We play cribbage together. [Friend chuckles] FRIEND OF MHS: We met. MHS: Huh? FRIEND OF MHS: I said we've met. JP: We have met. [Moe chuckles] MHS: Oh you have? Oh I did not know that. JP: Um so, um, do you have any other names you are known by? Page 2 MHS: Uh [slightly clears throat] well Moe is most of the names. I, in the, in the three years I was in Japan I was called Hank 'cause when they asked me what my middle name was, which is Homer, it's ugly. That was my father's first name. So I said Henry, so they called me Hank. And so even the official Commanding General Yokohama command wrote me a letter and they knew they called me Hank so he addressed it (this was official mail): Major Henry Smith [laughs and coughs]. JP: So where were you born, Moe? MHS: I was born in Hyde Park, Vermont. JP: Were you born at home? MHS: Yes, yes, I was born at home, in the home. I guess most people were in those days, yup. JP: Yeah. MHS: Morrisville now has a hospital, has Copley Hospital, and if it had it then I'd have been born there in the Copley, but they didn't have it then. JP: When you were at school, what was your major? MHS: In college, [sighs] it was language was one. I had [clears throat] really three majors. You normally don't have three majors, but my academic advisor, K.R.B. Flint, told me, said, "You've got the equivalent of three majors." So there's language, which was Spanish, language, I think social, uh, history, and political science. So I had three majors. He said, "you have enough credit in each one of those to declare a major." So I had three majors. JP: Wow MHS: Normally you have a major and two minors or some combination. But, he said, "You got three majors." [laughs] JP: What was your… I know you've had a number of different jobs, but what do you consider your occupation? MHS: Well, I would say most of my life was the Army. I went in the Army full time. I was on, day one, I was in Fort Knox, was activated on June 15, 1940. And that's when the Armored Force came into being. I was there four days before that and the—I was assigned to the 37th Calvary Regiment, cavalry regiment. So when I got down there my advisor said, "Calvary is out, Armor is in." So he said, "get yourself a place to live, you can't live on the post, we don't have room for you." So I went to Elizabethtown, Kentucky, which is about seventeen miles from the post. And, uh, [laughs] what was I about to say though? JP: Your occupation was in the military.Page 3 MHS: Yeah, was in the military. So I've been in the military, well, sixteen years. I went in in 1940 and came out in '56. JP: Wow. MHS: So it was sixteen years. So I was going, at twenty years, you can retire in twenty years on fifty percent, so that's what I was shooting for. And I was in Chicago at the time and I wanted to stay in. And I liked it, I liked my job, liked my work, liked the people. And my mother called up and said, "If you want to come home," which I didn't want to do, and said, "Your father will sell his shares of the drive in theaters to you." So she wanted me to come home, and so I came home after sixteen years in the Army. And but I didn't really want to. And so I bought out my father's share of the Green Mountain Drive-in Theaters Incorporated and drive-in theaters. The largest one in the state was in Newport and then one in Morrisville. And so that's what I did. And then, then I came down to Norwich, and so but I still owned the theaters, but I took the dividends. I didn't work, never did work at the theaters, didn't have to, so I just took my dividends. At that time I think we got $10,000 a year, which is pretty good money, separate. So I had five incomes: Social Security, Norwich, and I'm full time at Norwich, what was the job I said I had? And I had five jobs either way. And so I had a pretty, pretty nice income, so I was living high on the hog. Sent Bill to Northeastern, my son. He didn't do anything, and he is smart enough to do it, but he didn't. He didn't like it. He came back. He said one semester and said, "College isn't for me." So he went off in carpentry and did his own thing. And that's what he wanted to do, so. JP: Wow. So why didn't you want to leave the military? MHS: I didn't want to leave the military, because like I said I had sixteen years and at twenty years you get two and a half percent a year. So if I stayed in for twenty years, I would have gotten, I was a colonel, I would have gotten fifty percent of a colonel's full pay. The maximum is 75%. You could stay in long enough to get 100%, but it stops at 75%. And I would have gotten four more years. I wanted to stay in, I did not want to get out, but mother wanted me to get out and so I did. But I, I…Chicago was my last duty station and so I think I made a mistake, but it doesn't make any difference. I probably made more money by getting out than I did by staying in, so [chuckles]. JP: So it was the money, it was the income, the plan, yeah. So you were born in Hyde Park and you moved to Morrisville as a youngster? MHS: One year, I asked my mother when we moved, she said, "you were about a year old when you [moved]." Hyde Park is only about three miles from Morrisville. I was born at Hyde Park and a year later, so I grew up in Morrisville. And graduated from Peoples. JP: Academy? MHS: Academy. JP: Yeah, how did you know, in high school, that you wanted to go to Norwich? Page 4 MHS: Well, I did not have any college picked out and my brother was at Norwich, and my folks were paying the way and they said, "You're going to go to Norwich." So I never questioned it because my brother was here already ahead of me. He was two years older than I was and he was already here at Norwich. And they said, "You are going to go to college, you're going to go to Norwich." My brother had two colleges he wanted to go to. One was Georgia Tech and the other one was University of Alabama, and the folks said, "You aren't going to either one of them. You're going to go to Norwich." So my brother was here and my—the three of us, only five of my graduating class at Peoples, and three of us came to Norwich. And so I guess I was destined [laughs] to be a, a graduate of Norwich. JP: So your brother's, your brother's name was…? MHS: Phillip. JP: Phillip. And he was class of…? MHS: He was, well he would have been, he took a, he was four years ahead of me but he took a PG course in high school so he lost a year there. He was really two years ahead of me. He was two years older than me so two years ahead of me. And we both went to, he went to Norwich too, my brother did. But he didn't graduate. We'd have the quiet hours from 7:30 [P.M.] to 9:30 [P.M.], and at 9:30 we could, all hell would break loose in the barracks. The whistles would blow and we would get dragged into our holes, and dragged into your hole, we would get in our rooms and it was quieted down and during study hours it was very quiet and, uh, I don't know what brought that on. What were we talking about? JP: Your brother, your brother being ahead of you at Norwich. MHS: Yeah, he was two years ahead of me. And but he didn't graduate. But during study hours, what he was doing was playing cards. What I did was studying. I said—I was really driven to study. I said, "If I don't study, if I don't succeed, I'm going to be carrying a lunch basket to work. And if there is anything I don't want to do, it is carrying a Goddamn lunch basket, a lunch box." And you will if you don't succeed so I was driven to, for success, and I was, and I graduated number three in my class. [Laughs] I was driven I had a desire to do it I said, "I can't fail, I just got to do it." I dug in. So my brother was playing cards and I was studying, so he didn't graduate he, well I won't say he failed out but I used to do his Spanish. We took a Spanish class together and he would be playing cards and I was studying during all that time. I said, "Phil, I got maybe ten sentences all translated so you can copy them off if you want to learn this." Same Spanish class together. [laughs] JP: Was he playing poker or what? MHS: Oh yeah he was playing any kinds of cards. Probably poker or anything like that. In the barracks, quiet. It was very quiet you couldn't talk above a whisper and if you did like whoever was on guard could hear you out in the hallway, you were placed on report and given demerits. You had, allowed 9, were given 9 merits and for every demerit, like I guess walking on the grass I guess was 2 demerits. And so you could, so of all the years my brother was working towards, Page 5 all the time he was there shoveling horse manure on the Sabine Field and things like that, walking tours or either working tours off, punishment tours. And I only, I was a corporal. I only—one month I went over, I had 10. So I slept in, I mean I couldn't sign out for home, I normally sign out for noon so I just stayed in my room till 2:00, from one till two to get rid of that 1 tour and then I went home that weekend. And that was the difference between my brother and me. He was, my brother was in CMC, Close Military Confinement. And that's 10 demerits, 20 tours and 30 days Close Military Confinement. And that's pretty rough on a cadet. And a lot of them quit when they get that. You have to do something really bad. My brother was, he was a, he broke his collarbone. Harmon was leading a charge in the stable; my brother was riding a horse named Ham, H-A-M. And they were racing, and the horse stumbled and my brother went over, pitched over his head there and it was a mad rash. They made Pathè News, Norwich did, Pathè News. So my brother went over the, stumbled Ham, and landed and broke his collarbone. So he was in the hospital and on the post, the post hospital there. And he went to the sign out, he didn't sign out, he went to the movies and he got a good, that's a no-no. So he got caught, got 10-20-30, 10 demerits, 20 tours, and 30 days Close Military Confinement. It's pretty pretty rugged. So he was in a jam most of the time and I wasn't. I said I was a corporal and all sophomores are corporals, juniors are sergeants if you are made, you are sergeants, and the seniors are officers. That is the way it works up there now, I think, even now. Was in my day. Everybody was a corporal that was made, you were either a private or a corporal. I do not know what percentage probably 20% maybe, or 15%, were non-commissioned officers. So all sophomores, you cannot be over a corporal. A junior, you can be different classifications of different sergeants. And as a senior, then you are a non-commissioned officer in the militia, not the army, in the militia. So that's how it works. JP: What does Close Military Confinement consist of? What did that mean? MHS: Well you're like a prisoner, it's like being in prison. And when you go to meals you have to, there is a pass book on the floor, there would be a desk there and you would have to sign out for your meals and sign in for your meals, just like a prisoner. And you were a prisoner. And you have to copy where you are at all times and have to check in and it's pretty rough, it's pretty rough. And you can't speak to anybody, and the cadets can't speak to you. You are ignored, completely ignored. And I had one when I was up on the staff and his father was a superintendent of schools in southern Vermont. Quite a big shot. And he got on CMC, Close Military Confinement, and I'll tell you, he said, "It's no fun being ignored by the people you can't speak that way and they can't speak to you, like a prisoner." And it is, I guess, pretty rugged. He said, "I just kinda laugh smiling about it." He said, "It's nothing to laugh about it," I said, "that's pretty rough stuff." [laughs] JP: Do you have other siblings? Brothers or sisters? MHS: No, just the, well I had a sister, three years old, and we were close 'cause I was seven, my brother was nine. And so I was there enough to my sister. So I paid attention to my sister, my brother didn't, he was nine when she was three and she got appendicitis and died. She had appendicitis for a week, her face was flushed and everything and the doctors didn't know what was wrong with her! So they had a consultation of doctors, of 3 doctors. So at the consultation one of the doctors said, "I think she has got appendicitis," and that's what she had. So they put Page 6 her in the car, my father took her to Burlington, over the rough roads. The roads weren't like they are now, they were gravel roads, and he complained, my father, about hitting all the bumps and everything. And well they were too late, the peritonitis set in, she took her. JP: So what did your parents do, you said that he had a theater, did they have a theater when you were growing up? MHS: No no, that came later in life. That was when I was in the Army. And I get out in 1956, yeah 1956, well that's right I came down here. No. JP: So when you grew up what did they do? MHS: Well, I taught high school in the Northeast Kingdom as the, who was it they called it that, one of the, they called it Northeast Kingdom it stuck. And so, what were you about to say?1 JP: Oh, just asking what it was like when you were growing up. MHS: Well, I, ask me that again. JP: What did your parents do when you were growing up? MHS: Well, of course my mother was housewife, my father was real estate, real estate. And he'd sell it either on a commission, like someone would have a farm and turn it over to my father and father would find a buyer for it, he would get commission like 5% or 8% of the sale. And so that's what my father did. Real estate. JP: So, your parents helped you to decide to go to Norwich and you liked it? MHS: They didn't, they told me where I was gonna go. I told you my brother wanted to go to Georgia Tech and Alabama, one of those two. And they said, "No, you're gonna go to Norwich." I guess they figured he needed the discipline, the military, the discipline. And when I went, I was only, in Peoples, there was only 30 in my class, 25 girls and 5 boys. So 3 of us, 3 of the 5 boys all went to Norwich. JP: Wow, that's a pretty high percentage. MHS: Yes it is! [laughs] JP: So who was your roommate at Norwich? MHS: My roommate was, well that time, four in a room. So the—it's a big right room and I lived in Jackman Hall, was the dormitory. And the people I graduated—White, June White, Ross Grey, and I graduated from Peoples. So we were there and the fourth one was Bob Washburn, and he was from Massachusetts.2 1 Attributed to George D. Aiken (1892-1984) Vermont governor and senator. 2 MHS might be referring to Leon Morris White and Charles Russell Graves of Morrisville, VT. Page 7 JP: So the people you went to high school with your roommates. MHS: Yeah, yeah. They were. Yeah. JP: Oh that's great. And how did you decide which fraternity to join? MHS: Well I didn't have to make it, my brother was ahead of me, and he was a Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and so I was just automatically. I guess I did get a bed at one of the fraternities and but I could go—I wanted to go S.A.E. anyway. So I was just automatic, I mean, you have to accept the brother if he wants to go. And so I was S.A.E. And S.A.E. is the largest fraternity, in my day, in the country. And they had I think, I think the number was twenty-eight, I think throughout all the whole United States there were twenty-eight universities that had S.A.E. and the next one was Kappa Sigma they had twenty-five chapters. S.A.E. had the most in the nation, had twenty-eight chapters. JP: Wow, and do you remember the song that you sang for Sigma Alpha Epsilon? MHS: Oh yeah. JP: Would you mind singing it? MHS: [Singing] Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, (lets see) Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and to Minerva (that's not a good key). Oh sing, Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon and to Minerva who will lead us on! And to Phi Alpha with her guiding light. To royal sons who fight, fight, fight, fight, fight! And when some day we will tell our sons, about the very best fraternity, oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, our dear old S.A.E. [laughs] JP: [laughs] That is wonderful; would you like a drink of water? Are you okay? MHS: Yeah I am okay, sometimes your voice is clear but now it's not. JP: That was great. MHS: So sometimes in bed I'll sing, and I'll just sing myself to sleep. I'll hum, and it's pretty good. And this is one of my off days [laughs]. My voice isn't in the singing mode. JP: [laughs] It was wonderful! That was terrific. Do you remember your uniform at Norwich? MHS: Yes, yes. JP: What was it like? MHS: I had my picture in the yearbook when I was a corporal and yes, we had the War Whoop was the yearbook, and I was in there because I was a corporal. And all the non-commissioned officers get special caption, a picture of you and well that's, well I was a corporal. All, well most Page 8 the people, most of them were privates, but the few, I don't know what, 20, 25 or 30% of them are non-commissioned officers and all. Corporal is the highest you can go as a sophomore. If you are appointed, sophomores are corporals, that is all. Sergeants are juniors, and commissioned officers are seniors. So I was a corporal, and a sergeant, and a second lieutenant in A Troop. We were troops then, A Troop, cavalry, horse cavalry. JP: Tell me about the horse cavalry. MHS: Well we had, I don't know how many horses we had. The stables are still up there, the original stables. We would have to, once a week, just like your classroom schedule would meet Monday, Wednesday and Friday or Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, it was on there. So once a week we had to go out to riding hall, the riding house, they're still down there, think the riding— no the stables, the riding hall is gone. You would go to this riding hall and do all these different formations inside. By the right hand, Hooo! By the left hand, Hooo! [laughs] and that sort of thing. JP: Did you learn how to ride a horse at Norwich or did you know before? MHS: No, I had a pony of my own at home. So I was, I know the head of the horse to the tail of the horse. People came up from Massachusetts and didn't know what a horse was, but I did. I had a saddle horse for two years before I went to Norwich so I was a veteran [laughs]. Most of the people were, didn't know one end of the horse from the other! JP: Do you know what breed the horses were that you had? MHS: Well no, but they were well trained. When you first went for drill, for close order drill, number one, one, two, three, four in a column. For example, so we would be in a line, and they would say, "Fours left, Hooo!" And you, first they would say to you, "Column fours, be one, be in a line. Column one, two, three, four. Column fours turn your head to the right in your line, and now one, two, three," and I would say, "Four, one, two, three, four." The next row, one, goes "One, two, three, four." And the next one, "two, three, four." So when you were in the line, they'll say, like we are marching for chapel they'll say, "Fours left, Hooo!" And we, everybody, the number one would pivot and the other went around and we went around in a column. There was nothing to it, a piece of cake. JP: It must have looked wonderful. MHS: Yes, it was good, it was a, it got the job done. JP: Did you drive a car on campus? MHS: I had a car my senior year. Yes I had a Buick Coupe. You had to be a senior. Underclassmen could not have a car, but that was a senior privilege. You could have a car, so my dad [telephone rings in background for a few minutes] had a Buick Coupe that he gave me. So I had a car which was nice. Because we could go from the barracks to downtown which was, Norwich was about a mile. We would pile in, go down to the movies, then come back. It came in Page 9 kinda handy. And when we got home weekends, we didn't think of hitchhiking, I had a car right there. So with four from Morrisville we would pile in the car and go to Morrisville [laughs]. JP: That must have been grand. MHS: It was good. You had to be a senior to have a car. JP: Now I noticed in the War Whoop that you were an expert swordsman, an expert pistol, and an expert rifle shot. MHS: I was. I think I was a marksman as a rifle, sharp-shooter as a pistol, and an expert in the saber. And the saber course was be these dummies, would be men, you would come galloping down, like a column, and you'd just, you would lunge forward. I said "Geesh, I'll probably break my arm, but well I'll do it because it was what we were supposed to do." Worked like a piece of cake. So it was on a pivot, like a row, and so we go galloping down, we gallop past, take the saber, and jam the dummy and follow it right around. And when we went past it, we would pull it back. And it worked like. JP: Was it a real sword? MHS: Huh? JP: Was it a real sword? MHS: A real? JP: Was it a real sword or like a wooden sword? MHS: Oh oh, it was real, I mean it was-- JP: It was sharp. MHS: Yeah, it was, you got a medal for it. I said I was a marksman with a rifle, a sharp-shooter, a higher class, as a pistol, and an expert in the saber, in the saber course. JP: And you all learned those things at Norwich? Or did you practice as a kid? MHS: At Norwich, yeah. JP: So they taught you all that, they taught you how to be all that. MHS: Yep, learned it at Norwich. You got it at Norwich. So I had on my tunic, I had those medals, three different kinds of medals on my tunic. JP: Very good. So what was it like to be a Rook, I know you've talked about being a senior, but what was it like to be a Rook?Page 10 MHS: Ooh boy was that bad. It really was. You were not supposed to haze, but it was, it was mild hazing, mild hazing. For example, they would say, "alright get the rooks on the floor like a row boat, you are rowing a boat." It was hazing, you were not supposed to haze, but they did. About two weeks, the first game of the season was Dartmouth we always played at Hanover. They never came here, but we went, the whole Corps marched at Dartmouth. We would march, line up on the street there, and then march onto the field. The whole Corps for the game. We were there for two games. We did that with Dartmouth for the first game of the season, and we did it in the state series. Middlebury, Vermont, Saint Michaels, and Norwich. And we'd marched. If we played Middlebury, we would march at Middlebury. Middlebury, I think there, most everybody came here. I know we went there. The whole Corps went to Coast Guard. Had a special train for the whole Corps. The whole Corps went down to New London, Connecticut to play the Coast Guard Academy in football. JP: On a special train? MHS: Yep, a special train yep. JP: That's always been a big rivalry for the Coast Guard. MHS: Yes, it has always been a good rivalry we have had with the Coast Guard. We always had, we have a nice, nice relationship with the Coast Guard. JP: Now you were quite a jumper. MHS: Yes I was. In the pole vault particularly. Well when I went there, in high school we had track and the coach, Coach Baker was my chemistry professor but he was also the track coach.3 And I went out for track, and I had the no form. It was just jump over, jump over any way you can get there, it was no form. He called it no form. He said, "I'll teach you the eastern roll or the western roll." He told me exactly how they went. So [he asked], "Which one do you think you will like to go on." And I said, "Let's try the eastern roll." That is: you don't come charging really fast, you've got to take a little hop, then take six or eight steps so it comes out just right. You know exactly where, and you go to the bar, you kick up like this, over the bar. With this foot, you twist it around so that the bar hits your body instead of your butt. You aren't dragging your butt, and knocking it off with your butt. So you kick up, with the eastern roll, and then do that, and twist your body right around and the bar passes your body. You want to get your butt out of the way. So I was a high jumper and in the pole vault, I did the 12 feet. The standards only went up to 12 feet and I guess they didn't think that anybody could do it, but I did. So I was the, and the broad jump. So every year, from freshman to senior, I got a little more as a sophomore, more as a junior, and more as a senior. I kept going up. So I was quite the track star. JP: You were, you were. MHS: And P.D. Baker was my chemistry professor and he was like a father to me. A wonderful, wonderful man. So he taught me all those things. He knew how they went. I stopped to think 3Perley Dustin Baker, NU 1920 (1897-1995), was dean from 1950-1957, worked from 1920-1962. Page 11 about it, I said, I think if I had chosen, he said, "you can have your choice." He explained how it was and I think if I had taken the western roll, I think I could have probably gotten, I just got a feeling, I could have probably gotten one or two more inches higher with the western roll. But he taught me the roll anyway. I liked P. D. Baker. He was dean there, and it might have been later, anyway, he was like a father figure to me. I guess that about covers it doesn't it? JP: That's great, what did you do for entertainment? MHS: Well we had, I was an S.A.E., as I told you it was the largest fraternity in the country. It had more chapters than any other college [fraternity], of all the colleges. We would have Freshmen Week, which would be around January. Classes were suspended and we would have 3 days, 3 days, on the weekend for just parties, dancing, and doing anything you wanted to do. It was dancing mostly and you would get your date there. And you would look around downtown get a rate or rent if they couldn't travel, if they were out in like Massachusetts. Then the cadet would get a room for their date, for like Freshmen Week or Junior Week were the two big weeks. Freshmen Week and Junior Week. Freshmen Week was around January, Junior Week would be around May I think. So I had, I had a girl, Cotting her name was, Emma Cotting, and I had her down for the weekend. And of course a lot of them, I would say probably about a fourth of the cadets had dates on those big weekends. The others didn't have them. Either they couldn't afford it or didn't do it for one reason or the other. But I did, I had a date down. And she lived right there during those three days, probably like Friday, Saturday, and Sunday or something like that for Junior Week, for Freshmen Week and for Junior Week in May and Freshmen Week was in January I think. And all the classes were off, and the parties were in. I remember I had some money, and I get through the fraternity and they made us, something, your boaters, not the boaters in something. We didn't want them in. So I went down there, this was during Prohibition, picked up a pint of whiskey and I paid $4.00 for it. I got to thinking, I said, "My God, I can't really afford four dollars." That would be quite a few trips to the theater, pay for a lot of the theaters. So I bought it for four dollars, I didn't have a date and so one of the cadets who did have a date said, "I'll give you $3.75 for it, and I said "Sold." So I lost twenty-five cents but I could go to more movies [laughs]. JP: So movies were a big thing? MHS: They were downtown, you had to get downtown. JP: So where did one procure liquor during Prohibition? MHS: Well I didn't ask, we just, we got it through the fraternities. The fraternities would, you would sign up for it and they, somebody would get a bootlegger or something and they got good liquor. Probably went up to Canada I presume, probably and got it. So I said, $4.00 for a pint, or half a pint, or a pint and I, like I said, I said "I can't afford that. I would rather spend the money on movies." So I sold it for $3.75, sold my pint for somebody that had a date. It was worth it. I remember we used to go to Lake Eden, during the summer time. Lake Eden was 2 hours, 17 miles I guess, 15 miles. And Eight Guide Dunbar, a wonderful band, 8 piece orches—geez, they were everywhere, they were from St. Johnsbury, Eight Guide Dunbar. We would go there every week, Lake Eden, to dance. The men would go up separately; the girls would go up separately. Page 12 Almost everybody took a date. The girls would get up there by bus or any way they could get there. And they would sit on one side of the room, and the men would stand up in the back. When they would wind up the music then we would go over and we'd pick out somebody or for dancing on the floor. I remember I was dancing with this girl, probably could have been my date, I don't know, I was dancing with this girl. Anyway, and a lot of stags went up there. So I would see this girl, and she would shake her head no, too. I said the next dance? No. The second dance? [laughs] While we were dancing, you have these singles. So like I said, the girls got there by bus or I don't know. They got there, they got there anyway. [laughs] JP: What kind of dances did you do? Do you remember? MHS: Most of them were, in those days we used to Jump the Hop. We did a lot of turning around. We would dance around or we would dance, dance, and we would dip. Or at Lake Eden we actually jumped. We would have your partner jump right in the air, jump, jump. It looked good from the outside. I said, gee that looks like great fun, so I learned how to do it and we would jump. Just jump with the steps rather than glide. Supposedly we would jump and twist in the air. It was good. JP: And you were a good jumper. MHS: We thought we were hot stuff! [laughs] JP: Do you remember any slang? MHS: Any what? JP: Any slang? Did you guys use slang? MHS: Slang? JP: Slang. MHS: S-L-A-N-G? Slang. JP: Correct. MHS: Oh, yeah I guess we did. The people from Massachusetts used to rip on the Vermonters for the way we, for the slang, for the way we talked. And the New Yorkers talked different, the Massachusetts talked broader. Vermont talks a lot flat, flat and hickish really, and Massachusetts were a little different and New York was different than them, just a little bit as a group you know. The rest of the states, you could tell, you could almost tell a state a man was from, whether he was from New York, Massachusetts or Vermont by just talking to them. And of course we were hicks. Of course, the Vermonters, we would usually take a ripping from the cadets from Massachusetts for the hickish way we talked. We probably did talk like hicks. [laughs]Page 13 JP: Did they call you hicks or anything else? MHS: No, not that I know of. But we, well they might have, might have called us hicks. If they did, they were right. We were hicks. [laughs] We wouldn't deny it. JP: Now was Mike Popowski one of your roommates? MHS: Yes, Mike was a—when you're—all sophomores, if you are promoted in the Corps. I think about probably 25% maybe are promoted, maybe not quite that maybe 20% are promoted. So you are supposed to live, not officers live with officers, if you are officers. Privates, senior privates, lived together. Juniors were sophomores were sergeants, and sophomores were corporals, juniors were sergeants, and seniors were officers. Now what did you ask? JP: About Michael Popowski. MHS: Oh, oh, well so well my room— I was an exception. I came to Norwich as a private. I had been there only one week. The very first week I was called into the commandant's office. You're promoted at the commissioning ceremony in the spring when, before you break up. You have a promotion parade and I wasn't on the list. Well when I got back, the first week of school I was called into the commandant's office and was promoted right there. And of course a corporal had to get his stripes sewn on. All sophomores are corporals, privates, and privates. You are a corporal, you are a non-commissioned officers, juniors are sergeants, and seniors are officers. First lieutenants through, well my day the highest rank was a major, was the highest rank. Later on they became a colonel was the highest in the Corps. But in my day it was a major, one major. Then there would be about four or five captains. It would be A Company, B Company, C Company, and Headquarters Company. They were commanded by a senior, by a captain, a senior cadet captain. They would have a captain of the company, command the company. A first lieutenant would be the second in command. Then you have your, like I was in A Troop, and we would have two, two second lieutenants. I was one of the second lieutenants as an A Troop when I was a cadet there. JP: Was Harmon the commandant when you were there? MHS: Harmon was a commandant my first year and then it was his last year there. My sophomore, junior, senior year was a, Harmon was the, my sophomore year. And, who was it? I can't remember his name now, I'll have to remember it, but my sophomore, junior, senior year, it was a new man that came in. They are Regular Army people. That was a duty. They are Regular Army, and it was a duty assignment. And, let's see, Harmon was a, well he was a captain when I came in there and he yeah, he was, he controlled the—the Army furnishes officers for each, each company, for the whole Corps I think there was 17 officers. We could appoint 17 officers, cadet officers. And they're appointed by a, well, a commission. I don't know as a group, I don't know who picks them out. I never did understand who picked them out. Well I was a corporal as a sophomore, and that's all. You are either a private or a corporal. Sergeants, you are either a private or a sergeant if you are made. And a senior, you are either a private or an officer. In other words, a company would have one captain, one first lieutenant, and two second lieutenants. Now I was in A Troop, so A Troop was in Jackman Hall. We had a captain, a first lieutenant, and two Page 14 second lieutenants in the company. Or then there was a, they didn't call them companies. They called them companies later on— we called them troops. We were a troop, troopers, cavalry. Cavalry called them troops. Infantry called them companies. So my freshman year we were troopers. Now they changed it to companies in the Corps. JP: So did you go on the ROTC Hike of 1932? MHS: Did I do what? JP: Did you did the ROTC Hike of 1932? MHS: The, um, no. The uh, that was the one year they did not have it. But the year before they had the summer hike, and I think the year after. But my year they had to cancel it so we went to Fort Ethan Allen. Before you would arrive in the post, [then] ride horses from the post to Fort Ethan Allen. Well this year, they could they were tight on money or something so they, we did not have that summer ride. I think ours was the only class that didn't. I think the class after us did. So we drove to the fort on automobiles and our parents dropped us off. But all the classes before and after us, they rode. They took this secured route from Norwich to Fort Ethan Allen. But my year we didn't take it, we drove in cars and rode our horses when we got there [laughs]. Or whatever it was we did, I don't know what we did. JP: So when you left Norwich, and you graduated, and you went in to the military? You went straight in? MHS: No, not immediately. I think it was only, it was hard to get in. As I remember only two people in my class got a Regular Army commission. You went into the Regular Army when the rest of us went into the Reserves. So for 95% went into the Reserves, we were reserve officers. We went down every two weeks out of, we didn't get a chance to go on active duty. So we didn't actually get our commissions. We didn't see much active duty. JP: What did you do after you graduated? MHS: Well I taught high school up in Northeast Kingdom in Barton. I taught there for four or five years. Well from '34 through '39, and then in '40 I went into the Army. JP: What caused you to go into the Army in 1940? MHS: Well, I, thank you [someone passes Col. Smith a drink]. Well I wanted to get in, you couldn't get in. It was good pay. So in 1940 apparentlyWashington got some money together and so those who wanted to could volunteer for active duty. That was 1940. So I jumped, and it was good pay. It was a lot better than teaching high school. I started at $900 at Barton, Northeast Kingdom, $900, then $1,000, $1,100, and then $1,200. I got a hundred dollar bump each year so my fourth year of teaching I got $1,200. When I went into the Army, I got a hell of lot more than that. When I was getting $1,200 I was getting $4,500 to $5,000, I got about four times as much in the Army. So I went in the Army, and the activation of the Armored Force. My order said the Page 15 37 th Calvary Regiment. When I put in for active duty they came through. When I got there and reported to the officer in charge, the Regular Army officer in charge, who was a lieutenant colonel I think he was, he said well. I said, "Mine said that I was assigned to a cavalry unit." He said, "Cavalry is out. Armor is in." So on the activation the Armored Force came into being on the 15 of June, 1940. The 1st Armored was at Knox, the 2nd Armored was at Benning. I was the 1st Armored Division on the first day of the activation of the Armored Force. On the ground level. JP: Ground floor. MHS: I was assigned to a, well, reconnaissance company. The recon company, the recon battalion, A Troop. A Company was armored cars. B Company was scout cars, C Company was tanks, which I was assigned to C Company. And D Company was half-tracks. Everyone had their own division type of vehicles and we all had cycles, motorcycles. That's what I was in. I remember we had old horse sheds that had no horses, and that's where we kept the tanks. So when we went to pick up our tanks they said, "Alright, anybody that has ever driven a tank, step forward or turn your name in." You were here to pick up some tanks. There was just a few handful had driven a tank, and so I was not one, but some of the old Army people had driven a tank. So they got enough tanks. They came out of a depot somewhere and so the people who had driven tanks stepped forward and drove the tanks into the motor park which were really converted horse stables. They were, now [instead of] horses there were tanks in there. Same place but different vehicle [chuckles]. JP: What kind of motorcycles did you ride? MHS: What kind of what? JP: Motorcycles. MHS: Oh, I think we had the Indian motorcycle, I think. It was Indian. And well they had the, the first ones we had, oh God it was a pleasure to ride. They were down, you sit right down, you had controls, sit right down. Well I'll be goddamned if they didn't give those up. They got the new ones and they are up in the air. Well Jesus, it's like learning to ride all over again. On those low ones you just sit right down, sheesh, you could just feel it, you melted right into the cycle on the road. You melted. Now you sitting up here and by god, I never did like them. They were hard, and if you got off balance, you would go down, you would fall down on the ground. Then you would have to get up shame-facedly and pick up your cycle and mount it again [laughs]. I remember one exercise we had, we were out in the field and we come riding into this spot and dismount. And somebody on the team would throw you a Tommy gun, through the air. I don't know where it would come from, but they would throw it to you, and you would have to catch it in the air, the Tommy gun. You would blast a couple [gun noises], it would rise up [gun noises], bring it down, you would take 3 or 4 shots and it rises on you. You do not try to hold it down. You know it is going to, so you do it, you let up on the trigger, then get out 3 or 4 more rounds. Page 16 Then it gets to ride up. Just the force of it forces the Tommy gun up. Then we, when we would finish that I would take the rifle and the submachine gun and toss it to the instructor, jump on the motorcycle, and you are gone [chuckles]. That was a test, I mean, I guess all the officers went through it. It was fun, it was fun. I liked it. It was good. JP: What other weapons did you carry? MHS: We didn't carry anything. We, uh, I'll tell you, in Germany General Harmon had the Constabulary. So when I went outside in Heidelberg and yellow, we had yellow shoelaces. We were special. Constabulary was a special group of soldiers. And we were hot stuff, I guess, under Harmon. And was everybody assigned, a quite few. Well I made the cavalry in Germany and uh, is that it? Does that answer? JP: So you were part of Ironsides? And did you take part in any combat action? MHS: Um, you mean real combat? Or, or, we had maneuvers and it was just like combat. I mean it was, it was. Well you are in a war! I remember I was in the recon battalion, reconnaissance battalion. We were deployed down on the line in a big field. We were there, nothing was happening. We were up front cause— we reconnaissance battalion is the forward most unit of a division, of an armored division, is the reconnaissance battalion. And I was a recon battalion. They lead the entire division. The reconnaissance battalion, and I was in recon bat. So we got here on this field here, nothing was happening and we were just holding there, waiting for something to happen. All of a sudden all hell broke loose and tanks just covered that field. I stood there and said, "My god, it was a maneuver." And that field was covered with tanks! I guess, I never saw so much tanks in my life! And I, uh, "Holy Jesus what am I seeing?" I was really captivated by it, I was a, it was a maneuver, it was maneuvers. JP: And where was this? MHS: Jesus. Well I can't remember. I was the 1st Armored and the 1st Armored was at [Fort] Knox. The 4th Armored, I think, was Drum, Fort Drum. 10th Armored was, I was the 1st, 4th, and 10th Armored as they were building up the divisions. They would send the cadre, a pit crew, to form a new division. They were forming new divisions. So I started out in the Armored, the 1st Armored, the very first beginning, the 1st Armored was in Fort Knox where I was. The 2nd Armored was activated on the same day. The first day of the activation of the Armored Force was the 15 of June, 1940. The 2nd Armored was at [Fort] Benning. Then they grew, so they had 18 armored divisions. They have cadre as a shell for the making of all the key positions of a unit. Then they send in recruit fillers, to fill it up to full strength. That's how they would increase. They had an outline, just an outline of key people who would be assigned as the cadre staff. I was the 1st Armored but I was picked as a cadre for 4th Armored Division. So it's a shell of the officers and non-commissioned officers and then the fillers come in and fill it up. And they go on and do it that way with the 18 armored divisions I think. So I was the 1st, 4th, and 10th Armored Divisions. Page 17 JP: So you were stateside. Were you overseas? MHS: Oh yeah, yes I was. That's, that's something. I went, I was overseas. Where the hell was I? Jesus. Goddamn [whispered with frustration]. I was overseas. Europe? FRIEND OF MHS: Moe, What did you train on tanks in Hawaii? You were a trainer, what did you train people [on]? MHS: My job there was to train Marines on the tank mounted flame-thrower. Hell, that was it. That was a school. Each Marine Division had one tank company or battalion, I can't remember which. They would send a whole unit of Marines over to—I was the head of the school at Kolekole Pass, that's where the Japanese flew in, over that cut in the mountains when they bombed Pearl Harbor. And uh, where was I now? FRIEND OF MHS: You were training Marines. MHS: Yeah, I was training Marines and we would set up trebles on the guns, on the flamethrowers. The flamethrowers were co-actually mounted. You would have a 76 sticking on the tank a big rifle, a big, long tube, a 76. And co-actually mounted to that was a flamethrower right beside it, or below it. So you could have your fire power. You're in the tank, you would have the ammunition in the tank. It was underneath the turret floor for your stored ammunition. So they were independent. They could fire, I can't remember how many, rounds of 76 you could fire or you could use the flamethrower. Either one. And we would make our own napalm. It is like a sawdust, soap, chips, I guess like soap. It's like sawdust, looks like sawdust. You can't get it, even a drop of water, or it breaks it down. So you have to be careful that the drums are dry and you had this napalm, that's the sawdust-like stuff, and mix it up, and it's rubbery. And you reach in there and pull it out like that and hold it and let it go a little snap back to base. It was heavy, it was elastic, like elastic. Now that's your flamethrower stuff. And it has to be that way so you can back off your tank, and that thing we couldn't throw a flame and it works out. They would, I wouldn't happen to be with the unit at that time. But the Japanese would hole up in these caves, so we'd get these flamethrowers and since it was almost impossible to dig out, 'cause the side was like a mountain, all rocks. They were inside with peepholes and everything. Hard to dig those people out. So we get these flamethrowers in there and course they had the aperture, they had it open so they could fire. And we would put the flamethrower and probably shoot it, probably, a couple hundred yards. If it was mixed just right, just right, it was like rubber, like rubber, and you could back your tank off and we would, they would, it had to be that particular action. But then they would fire these flamethrowers in these apertures, or whatever you call them, the rock where they fired. And they would put the flamethrowers in there and burn up the oxygen and those Japanese would be dead. D.E.D. Dead [laugh]. And not a mark on them, they wouldn't have a mark on them, but they'd be dead. It would burn up the oxygen in the air in these caves and kill them all. Just, just, just asphyxiated. JP: Where were you during, where were you when Pearl Harbor occurred? Page 18 MHS: I was in Hawaii. I was in Hawaii and I had a school there. I was the head of the school. Head of school on the tank mounted flamethrower and as I said, we work with; we made mostly Marines, training Marines. Those Marines, I couldn't sing their praises enough, the, the [fades out] FRIEND OF MHS: Moe, when Pearl Harbor was bombed, where were you located? Were you still in the States or were you elsewhere? MHS: No, no, no, when Pearl Harbor was, no, no. When Pearl Harbor was bombed I was in Hawaii with the, with the tank mounted flamethrower - FRIEND OF MHS: So you were training Marines. MHS: training Marines. When the peace came they dropped the bomb and so they gave us 48 hours. We had these big, these 55 gallon drums. We had like a mountain of them, just a heap of them. Gasoline rations for the states they sent it to us to burn up in the flamethrowers or whatever it was. It was hard to get gas for use here for the civilians during the war. So we, when the armistice, when they dropped that bomb they sued immediately for peace, so they gave us 48 hours to clear the range. So we had a veritable mountain of 55 gallon drums, long and high, filled with this napalm. And we opened those drums just as fast as we could open them. And we had a veritable pond of that napalm, that rubberized stuff there, and we would back a tank off, put a flamethrower on it and you would have thought the whole island was going up in flames. I mean it was some fire, I'll tell ya. That was the Kolekole Pass. It was a plateau. It was a low cut in the mountains, I said when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor they came through that pass and I had been there at that time. They flew right over where I had my school. FRIEND OF MHS: So what did you do in Japan? When you went to Japan after the war? MHS: Let's see, I was, Oh! Here is a funny thing. I was, I was an obs-, obscure, obscure major. I'd been there 3 days. Nobody knew me. Hell, there probably a thousand, probably hundreds and hundreds of majors there. It was all in the Far East Command under General MacArthur's Far East, Far East Command. And I'd been there just 3 days and my name came up to be on the General Staff. And I said, "How in hell can I be made? They don't know me!" I said, "I'm the new man here! I am one of hundreds and hundreds of majors and they picked me out. There was a feather in my bonnet and God was with me. God appointed me. God had something to do with that." Three days I was on the General Staff. Seemed pretty good. It was about 18 or 17, we'd have a staff meeting every day. I would be there and it was under, we had reports that came into me and I had a guy in my division that wrote them up and all I had to do was sign them. So I signed them as if they were my reports because I was the head of the division. So, so I signed it, I signed it. I didn't change a word. Call McCarthy, I signed it, sent it up to G3 with my signature. G3 took my name off, put their name on it and sent it up to GHQ Far East Command, General MacArthur's headquarters. It went through all those chains, everybody put their name on it, and I didn't do a thing. I just, tt was all prepared, I never, in all the time I was there, only Page 19 one time there was a paragraph in there that was way off, and I took that out. I said, "By god that's not going to go into the report, that's for goddamned sure." So I took that out. When I said that was my report, when they get it, it was their report to GHQ they passed the line. It was a, I didn't do anything, no really, all I did was look at the reports and send them on up. I did not do anything. But I, it was important because it went to GHQ and the GHQ, when they got through with them, sent the reports to Washington. JP: And after the war what did you do? MHS: After the war I, well I was in Chicago Headquarters, Fifth Army. My mother called up and said, "If you want to come home, your father will sell his shares of the drive-in theaters to you." And I really didn't want to come out, I liked Chicago and I liked my job. I just, I had a good job, and I did not want to leave. I had it made. I had 16 years. All I needed was 4 more years to retire at 50%. Well, mother said, "Your father will sell," So I said, "Well I guess she wants me to get out," so I get out. I really did not want to go, but I got out after 16 years and went home, and bought out my father's shares of the Green Mountain Drive-in Theaters. There was a theater in Morrisville and the largest in the state was in Newport. And we got half. The trade was Canadian trade. They would come down because they did not have any, any, Canada could not have 'em. It was state law, they could not for quite a while, they couldn't have drive-in theaters. So we had a sell out every night and that was a, that was a good payment, but of course we didn't make as much money in those days as they do today. I got $10,000 a year sitting on my butt and doing nothing. [laughs] JP: When did you meet Isabel? When and where did you meet your wife? MHS: I met her before I went into the Army. For 4, 4 or 5 years from '35 to '40, I taught high school in Barton in the Northeast Kingdom. And I taught, coached, I coached and taught for four or five years, I can't remember. 1935 to 1940, and then in '40 I went into the 1st Armored Division at [Fort] Knox. JP: But how did you meet her? Where did you meet her? MHS: Oh my wife? Well we were teaching, teaching school. JP: She was a teacher. MHS: Right. And Issy [Isabel] was home economics, home economics. She graduated from uh, I can't remember the name of the school now. I did know that it was in Massachusetts. She had her degree from a school in Massachusetts. I know where it is but it doesn't come to mind right now what it was. So that's where I met Issy. So Issy was a, we were both teaching school there and we both, we got married. We skipped out one New Year's Eve and got married, came back, didn't tell anybody about it because we weren't supposed to be married, I guess. And we weren't supposed to be I guess. I don't know how they could keep a teacher from, from they could take a Page 20 married teacher or a single teacher. But either way, we got married and didn't tell anybody. Then, then we got out in 1940 and went into the Army. JP: So she couldn't tell she was married because they didn't want women who were married to be teaching. That's why you didn't? Was that it? MHS: I don't know. I don't know. I could never could figure out why didn't want, why they didn't want it. Never could figure that out. But they didn't, anyway, for some reason or another. So then we went to, that's when we were stateside, I was, we were teaching in Barton. So we got married, dropped out of teaching, and I went into the 1st Armored Division at Fort Knox in 1940. JP: Yeah? FRIEND OF MHS: Did you talk about how we ended up at Norwich? JP: No. I'm curious as to how you got from post-World War I [interviewer said one meant two], to Korea and then to Norwich. How did you get to Norwich? And what did you do in Korea? I know those are big questions. MHS: I was in the, ah, I, I, I got out of the Army. Oh! I got out of the Army to buy the theaters, that's why I got out of the Army. Mother said, "If you want to come home, your father will sell you [the theaters]." I didn't want to do it but I did. I got out of the Army and went home and bought out my father's share of the drive in theaters. So I was sitting one day when I got the Norwich Bulletin. I don't know what it's called now. It's a bulletin. It said they are looking for somebody for the commandant's office. It said, "apply to Colonel Black." I said, "Bull, bull, bullshit," I said "I'll jump in my Cadillac and go down and let them see me. I can see them and they can see me." And I did, and I was told by Black that I was one of the, there was only one other, a year later, putting in for my same job and I got it. So I report in as, to Black. Black went up to Harmon and said, "We got a man here on our plea for an assistant commandant." And he said, "He's a Norwich man." And Harmon goes. "Well sign him up and give him three days to get in and get down here." So I was home, I had to clean up and move and everything. So I did and I came down here and reported in in 1940, 1940 1st Armored Division. FRIEND OF MHS: No you started at Norwich in 1950, didn't you? MHS: I started at Norwich… [trails off] FRIEND OF MHS: '56? '54? MHS: In 1940… FRIEND OF MHS: You were in for sixteen years. It would be '56. MHS: Oh yeah. Uh huh. Page 21 JP: You worked seventeen jobs at Norwich for eighteen years, right? MHS: Yeah, yes, yeah. I was— oh here is a funny thing, but it's not really very funny either. One day we had the—I was registrar. I was the first registrar in Norwich history. And Bob Guinn, I knew him, he was a professor when I was cadet. And he wrote the history of Norwich and he said that, "Smith was the first registrar in Norwich history." See before they had the registrar duties, but they partialed all them out amongst different faculty. So they get them all together for the first time and I was the first. And this is in the history. I was first full time registrar in Norwich history. And that was in 1940, yeah 1940, wasn't it? FRIEND OF MHS: It couldn't have been '40, that's when you went into the Army. Sixteen years after that would have been '56 MHS: This was 19… [trails off]… this was, uh, '56 yeah. '56. Yeah '55. '56 was the first year I came to Norwich. Yeah '55-'56 was my first year at Norwich. JP: So, you, you were working on a master's at Columbia before you— MHS: I was uh, yes. I started in and that was, that was a funny thing. I went to one section at Columbia and Columbia had a new deal. It used to be you go to 5 years or 4 years and a thesis. You go to 4 summer sessions and then write a thesis and that was it. Or 5 years without a thesis. Then they finally said, they cut it out and said, all right, you can go 4 years, you can get it in 4 years without a thesis. So I was working towards a Master's Degree at Columbia when I, when I ah. So I got to the next summer, I was waiting to see if I was going to get called into the Army, that was in '39. See if we were called into the Army, I said, I have to make up a decision because after the 4th of July if you go to Columbia, you don't get any credits. You have to be on or before the 4th of July for a full, for the full term. You can miss 2 or 3 days but that was all. And after the 4th of July you could go if you wanted to, but you wouldn't get credit for the Master's Degree. So, where was I now? JP: What was your major? What were you getting a master's degree in at Columbia? What were you studying? MHS: Probably education, I'd imagine. Education. I remember, I remember two of my professors—one was a woman, Doctor Spesicka at Columbia. The other was Doctor Hunt. The one that was the most popular one, he had a theater. We had small classes, 7 or 8 of in the class, but there was this one big class and he was the big, we had it in the theater, about 2 or 3 hundred were in his class. And I can't remember his name! But I remember Spesicka and Hunt. And Issy was there and I took her to class with her one time, when I was working for a master's degree. But it helped, because ah 4, 4 sessions, there used to be 5 and they cut it down to 4. So I was waiting, I said, "Gee I don't want to lose out all around," and I was biting my fingernails wondering whether to – what was it? To decide whether I was going to do something or go back to Columbia? Can't remember what it was. My choice was go to Columbia or Army I guess it Page 22 was. And I said, "I got to make up my mind before the 4 th of July," and it went by. And anyway I went to Columbia anyway, and I got a full year at Columbia. JP: You've had a lot of experience in education. A lot of life experiences with teaching people things and - MHS: The courses that you take in education was dull, dull and meaningless in education. They did not carry any weight, there was no substance to it, education courses. I mean they were stupid, they were dumb. And you had to take 18 hours, you were supposed to have 18 hours to get a, I guess a degree. And ah, I took 2 or 3 courses, and they were stupid! A waste of time! There was a misnomer calling them education courses. They prepared you, they didn't prepare you for anything but took them because they were required and so I went just that one time, and then I went into the Army. I was debating between, I didn't want to lose out on the second term for Columbia, I was biting my fingernails, and I said, "Well it's too late now I have to take what I get," and then my orders came through for active duty. So I played that right. I was lucky [chuckles]. JP: Do you want to take a break now or are you okay? MHS: Oh I'm okay. FRIEND OF MHS: I gotta go along, Moe. Your checks are all set there you have to sign them. MHS: Oh uh, oh the bills. Yeah, okay… come tomorrow, will ya? Okay, you are learning something about me. [chuckles] FRIEND OF MHS: You should tell her all the stories you have about the different generals you have worked for. MHS: Oh yeah, that's right. I have worked for, here is a funny thing. General Newgarden4 had the 10th Armored Division. I was in his division, well he came to the Armored School, and I was, I was something in the Armored School. I was a big, kinda a big wheel. Big wheel. I was a department head and he, everyone, they go to class and then they have to take a 10 minute break and then they go back to class for 50 minutes then 10 minute break. He was a tactics guy, tactics class. So I came up to see him, he didn't know me, I said, "General Newgarden." I said, "You probably don't remember me," (cause he had a division, he didn't know all the people). I said, "I was in your 10th Armored Division!" I said. "I was under your command at one time." So we had a nice chat. I remember his stars were—a pep they call it, a little round thing that clips to your collar, it was gone. And I said, "Gosh I should have fixed that but I didn't." I said, I should have said something, what I should have said was, '"General, your general thing is askew, you lost your pep." And I'd take my pep, "Here take my pep I got another one." That's what I should have done but I didn't do it. I was kind of scared so I let him go with his U.S. dangled Major 4 Major General Paul Woolever Newgarden (1892-1944) Page 23 General. And we talked but he didn't know who I was, so I told him, I said "I was in your division." A lot of officers in a division, you don't get to know them all. FRIEND OF MHS: So you did a lot of, you were in charge of Army training for a lot of , a lot of your career. MHS: Oh yeah, and in Hawaii that's all I did do. And I was the head of the school. FRIEND OF MHS: Who were those, the Spaniards that came, or Spanish speaking group that came? MHS: Oh, well we'd have tourists from all over the country. Colombia, for example, sent two or three different groups at different times. But the colleges all around would send their handpicked people to study our system of education, which was, ah, you could see it! It wasn't that you read something in a textbook and then recite it, but you could see it. It was all hands education. We would take an engine apart and put it together again. Assemble it right on the floor so we, we had engine cells and we would set up engine troubles, trouble shooting, and then the class would come in. We had a little, we had this big dynamometer, a big dynamometer engine in the middle and little cells around there. And we divided, about six officers or noncommissioned officers to a cell and there would be an instructor in there. And depending on whether, maintenance 1, maintenance 2, trouble shooting, so forth and they'd go through that and that'd be one week at each section. And I had the trouble, trouble shooting for over 1 week. So there's 6, 8, I think 8, different sections and then they'd graduate either 6 to 8, they'd graduate after about 2 months. I didn't do it exactly because I can't remember but about 2 months. They would have it on their records that they were graduates of the Tactics Department. The Armored School was the Tank Department, armored cars, tanks, wheeled vehicles, and motorcycles. There were five divisions of the Armored School. It took every, every week, 100, every third class was an officer class. We had an enlisted class, an enlisted class, an officer's class. Enlisted class, enlisted class, an officer's class. So there are 1,200 students at all times in the Armored School. 1,200. So 100 would graduate, 100 would come in. And every third company was an officer's company, so it'd be 300 at any one time, be 300 officers and 900 enlisted men in the Armored School. I had the Trouble Shooting Division. We would have these engine cells, we'd set up troubles on the tank, tank wouldn't start and so they'd figure out why it wouldn't start. And for motorcycles, wheeled vehicles, tank, and halftracks. FRIEND OF MHS: So what happened when the Colombians came to visit? MHS: Well that was, that was a good thing. They, ah, they spoke in English. They came through and they could with just what they could see. I found after, they didn't know what the hell was going on. They didn't! We spoke English and while they could see something, but the instructor - Maintenance 1 or Maintenance 2 or whatever it was - would talk in English and they told me, they [the Colombians] didn't know what was going on. And when they got down to the engine task, I knew that in Spanish, because I took Spanishm, I majored in Spanish in college. So I had Page 24 a corporal, god he was good, he was good. So I had no English-Spanish/Spanish-English dictionary so I had my speech in Spanish. So this, and I had been, I majored in it so I knew quite a few of it but I needed some help in polishing up. So I called this corporal in, he was, god he was a whiz-bang, I'll tell you. So I said, "What's the, what's the word for troubleshooting?" And he said, "There is no word for troubleshooting. It's busca fias look for troubles, that's trouble shooting." And so he helped me with my speech and I memorized it, because I majored in it so I knew quite a bit of it and he filled in the gaps for me cause I had no dictionary. So when the, when the Colombians, when the Brazilians - particularly Eurico Dutra, Chief of Staff of the Brazilian Army - came around, they didn't, they told me, they didn't know what was going on. We just spoke in English. Well when they got up to my place, I delivered it in Spanish they went for their notebooks and started writing like mad. Of the 16 stations, mine was the only one that meant anything to them because they didn't know. My people didn't know Spanish and they'd deliver it in Spanish [means English] but it went over their heads so when I started my speech in Spanish, boy they whipped out their notebooks. I tell you they were writing furiously so it wasn't a complete failure [laughs]. It made me feel pretty good. JP: Thank you. MHS: Any other questions? [laughs] FRIEND OF MHS: Oh. Mike Popowski downtown, his father, what was his association with you? MHS: We were at Norwich together. [At] Norwich noncommissioned officers lived with noncommissioned officers, commissioned officers lived with commissioned officers, privates lived with privates. FRIEND OF MHS: So how did you know Popowski or Pop? What was his nickname? MHS: Well as a sophomore, at commencement the end of my freshman year, my name wasn't on, I was a private. Well I had been there just a week and I was called into the commandant's office the very first week of school and was promoted to, made a corporal. So I was already living with privates. Popowski was a private. There was four of us: Sullivan (an Irish man), Uthenwoldt (a German), and me (English), and Polish, Popowski. We were in Jackman Hall, A Troop, A Troop. We were troops then, now they are, later became companies. It was A Troop and uh… [trails off]5 FRIEND OF MHS: Now did you stay with Popowski all through your school? MHS: So I was a private up until the very first week of school. I wasn't promoted at commencement. So I had my roommates, so when I was promoted to corporal I think I was the only one rooming with privates. All the others were noncommissioned officers with 5 Michael Popowski, George Patrick Sullivan, both Class of 1934 and Fred William Uthenwoldt, jr., Class of 1935. Page 25 noncommissioned officers. And they would keep the privates with their group so they didn't break it up. So I stayed where I was, but I was a corporal. I guess I was the only corporal, noncommissioned officer, who was in with privates, and Popowski was a private. FRIEND OF MHS: So but did you stay with him when you became a junior or a senior? MHS: No, just my sophomore year. And then my junior year it was just two of us. Sullivan, Sullivan I guess it was. I roomed with him from New Hampshire, Berlin, New Hampshire, was my roommate from, to junior and senior year at Norwich. Troops. I can't remember if we were troops. I think they went from, I think my sophomore year they went from troops to companies. They used to be troops for cavalry, cavalry troops. Same number pretty much, and makeup, but they would call them troops. So the band leader, I would take reports, I would be the officer of the day, and I would say, "Report to reveille." And they'd say "A Company present and accounted for. B Company present and accounted for. C Company." And you would say, "Dismiss your troops," if you were the officer of the day. And they would dismiss their troops. Well the band leader, I can't remember his name now, he wanted to call them troops and they were companies. They went from troops to companies. Well he wanted, the Band Company, he wanted to call 'em troops. So when I go out to take a report I say, "Report!" for if you are on duty, if you are the officer on duty for the whole regiment. And then "A Company present and accounted for. B Company present and accounted for," so on and "Band Company present" and, uh so this guy I can't remember his name now said, called it troop, said "A Troop present and accounted for." Well I could have called him on it and say, "Hey look, we are companies now. You will report as a company not a troop." But said, "My god if he wants to call them a troop, I'm gonna let him call it a troop." So he was the only one in the regiment that called his Band Company a troop. Everybody else was a company, and I let it go. I said, "Hell, I don't give a damn if he wants to call his band a troop, I'll let him." Any other questions? FRIEND OF MHS: I can't think of any right off there, chief! MHS: Well, we'll… FRIEND OF MHS: We'll catch up tomorrow. JP: Thank you very much. FRIEND OF MHS: I'm Dick Brockway JP: Brockway, that's right, we met before. I've got a, I can leave a card if you want, I gave Moe a card. Thank you. MHS: You know that, that helped me, that Colombia deal, it was on my, on my record so I got some wonderful assignments. I was, I was on the Armored, I was an obscure major, and I do not know how many majors there were in the Far East Command. I mean hundreds of them, and in three days they picked me out to be on the General Staff. And I said, "By god, I said God is with Page 26 me, God made that appointment." I mean all these majors, and I was an unknown major and they put me on the General Staff. I never could figure that out. [Moe's friend says goodbye] JP: So let's see, you were in, third overseas assignment was the Japan Logistical Command after the war. You were on the Commander General's Staff and you wrote reports that went up to General MacArthur's Headquarters in Tokyo and then to Washington. MHS: It went through channels, through channels. JP: Through channels. So you worked… MHS: In the final, in the Far East Command, MacArthur, MacArthur's headquarters, he was in, so it went to MacArthur's headquarters because he was the Far East Command. He was command of all, all the post caps and stations in the area, Far East Command. MacArthur, and then to MacArthur, my report went to MacArthur's headquarters, Tokyo, and he sent them on to Washington and what they did with them I don't know. JP: So then you went to Chicago? You were in Chicago during Korea. MHS: Chicago was my last duty station. JP: Last duty station. MHS: I was in Chicago. Oh, Headquarters, Fifth Army. I got it in my hat. Headquarters, Fifth Army, and I lived uptown from Chicago. I wasn't down in the loop, I lived a few blocks north, but it was still Army Headquarters. So I was in Fifth Army Headquarters in Chicago. JP: And what did you do there? MHS: I was a, I was a - Command Reports, I managed Command Reports. In other words, feeder reports came into me and I'd give it to my Division Commander whose business it was to write a report. So he wrote up the reports for me. Ah. Month, weekly or monthly reports, I can't remember which, I can't remember if they were weekly or monthly. So they would come across my desk. He would, he was the head of the—I had 4 divisions, 3 or 4 divisions in my company. And his division was to write up what went on in the Fifth Army Area. So they came to me, and I'd read 'em and there was one time that I changed something. I took out a paragraph that didn't belong, I took it out. So they came to me, I signed it as if it were my report, and sent it on to the next echelon of maintenance. And he would read it, and then he would sign it, that means it was his report then, and then it would go on to GHQ, to General MacArthur. And somebody in Special Services, I was in Special Services, in Special Services in the Far East Command would sign it, and then it is his report! Then it went on to Washington. JP: So what was it like when you worked under Harmon at Norwich? Page 27 MHS: I was, it was pretty good. It started out pretty rough, I guess I told you that something was happened. JP: Yes you got in the elevator and it was slow but Colonel Black… MHS: It was good, it was good under Harmon. We went to the uh, we had something at White River Junction, Dartmouth, and uh, at White River Junction, Dartmouth. And I had a big Cadillac and Harmon, I had a carful in my Cadillac there, and I drove with the wives. We drove to White River somewhere, we drove to some headquarters. And uh, [pause] and we met, we had a meeting, a big meeting somewhere. I don't know if it was White River or if it was Dartmouth, could've been Dartmouth. We had a meeting and Harmon rode in. I had Harmon, Mrs. Harmon and the director of admissions and his wife. And I had Issy. Six of us and we went to this, this meeting for the Area Command or something. I can't remember what it was. And Harmon, he was, he could swear quite a bit and he was a, so he made a speech using pretty rough language. Well the Norwich wives knew he spoke that way, and they expected him to speak that way, but the people outside our command didn't, youknow They had their wives there, they were civilian college wives or something like that. And so Harmon said something using his salty language and they sucked in their breath, you know. He could be pretty salty. And Harmon, so on the way back Harmon knew he made a mistake, "Oh god," he said, "I could cut off my tongue for saying what I said." I said, "Well gee General Harmon," I said. "People know you, they expect you to talk that way. If you didn't, you wouldn't be General Harmon. They'd be disappointed." He said, "Yes, they weren't Norwich wives. They weren't all Norwich wives, means there are some Dartmouth wives in there and they're the ones who sucked in their breath at his language." And I had no reply to that, he was right! JP: So you heard quite a bit of salty language. MHS: Huh? JP: So you heard quite a bit of salty language [louder]. MHS: Oh, oh yes. He was a…I remember one time, we were right here, I think I may have told you already. Women were sitting in here, Mrs. Harmon was sitting right here, and maybe not in this chair but in this place. The men were out around here, was it the Norwich community? I guess it was, yeah, high ranking people, Norwich department heads. And so I looked at him and Leona was sitting here, and Harmon you could hear him, god he had a booming voice. And he said, I guess I told you, "I've thrown my leg over many a French lad!" And I said, "My gosh you can hear him!" How you could hear outside and over here, he had a booming voice. Leona sat there and didn't, she knew Harmon, she didn't flick an eyelash. And he didn't care if she did hear, and he was true. He was quite a, as you call it, cocksman? [laughs] JP: I guess when you live in the military and you work with people closely you get to know their personalities. You get to know their good sides and their bads. What is it about Norwich, you Page 28 seem to really love Norwich and the training and the education that you've got. What is it about Norwich, you think, that makes people so loyal and so attached to it? MHS: Well it's the esprit de corps. It's the spirit of the corps. It's the, it's a, now in my day only, I think 2 graduates were accepted into the Regular Army. The rest including me were reserve officers but two, every year, they would take two for the Regular Army commissions. And then I think they dropped that rule. I don't know when they did go about the Regular Army. Oh I know, the reserve officers, I think it was at [Fort] Knox, they had, we were a lot of reserve officers. So they had a special course, and it turned out not to be much, it was a week of special training for the small group that wanted to go into the Regular Army. So a few reserve officers went. I didn't, I wish I had. But it was a short course, it wasn't demanding at all. It was a piece of cake really, and those people who went to that get a Regular Army commission. I was in the whole time on a reserve Army commission. I could just as well done that, and I thought, I said it was gonna involve a lot of work and isn't probably worth it. What I thought, what I heard, it wasn't hard at all, it was a piece of cake really for that week there was nothing to it. You'd get your Regular Army commission. So I went through all those years as a reserve commission. But, got the same pay. Get promotions just the same as everybody else. JP: And you have lived across from Norwich after you retired. So you've been close to Norwich for, gosh… MHS: I was at Norwich for I think 16 years. JP: I think 18, 16 or 18. MHS: I will tell you one thing really gripping. I was registrar. It is recognized that the registrar's duties were fanned out, or under - when I came in it was all coordinated. I was the first registrar as such, full time registrar in Norwich history. Guinn who writes the history told me that. And now where were we? What did you say? JP: Oh, you said you were going to say something gripping about being a registrar. I said you had lived here a long time. MHS: I was the, I was the first registrar in Norwich history. And, well, Dean Perry, and I loved him. Registrar comes under the Dean, he was the Dean and Registrar is under the Dean.6 So the Dean was my boss. So he came in one day. I had the best office in Dewey Hall with a fireplace on it. It was for the Dean but the Dean didn't want it, he wanted to be off the beaten path 'cause he didn't want to be where people were going by his office. He wanted the privacy, so he took the office way down at the end of the hall and I had the spacious office as Registrar, fireplace and everything! Now where was I? 6Col. Lewis Ebenezer Perry, (1899-1963) died on June 7, 1963 on a Friday, at the Cadet Corps Commencement Parade on Sabine Field. Page 29 JP: A gripping story about being registrar. MHS: The Dean came into my office one day and I liked Dean Perry, I guess I loved him really. He was a wonderful, man wonderful man. [Takes sip of water] And he said, "Let's get down to the," he said, "C'mon," I guess I was a colonel, "Colonel," I might have been a lieutenant colonel. "C'mon and we'll go and go down for the alumni parade." I looked at my watch, and I was pretty busy there. And he said, "I know it's early," he said, "but I thought we'd take our time." I said "okay," it made sense to me. So we started out, he started to take his car. I thought, "What the hell is he taking his car for? Jeesh all we have to do is, Jackman Hall is just down the steps and you are there." But, I thought, "Well, we're early, that's why we are taking it." I said to myself, I was talking to myself. "Oh we're early that's why we are." And so we'd go down and take a step, and stop. Take another step, and stop. And we would talk. And what's he going so damn slowly floor. Then again I said, "Well we're early of course." Now there was a reason for us doing that. He didn't feel good, Well, I didn't know that. So two or three different things I didn't question, I said "Oh, well were early we don't have to hurry about anything." So we got down there and I thought, "I'm gonna have some fun today." The Academic Board is the all-powerful board. The Academic Board is the big thing, academic board, department heads mostly make up the Academic Board. So I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys," 'cause I was a colonel, I was a full colonel and they were lieutenant colonels, the department heads were lieutenant colonels. Now they're colonels, but at that time they were lieutenant colonels and I was a colonel. So I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys." So we had to, we were out on Sabine Field, standing back where the tank is, milling around. So we had to march on to the field and they had a seat for us right in the middle of Sa-Sabine Field, seats. So I was to march them down on. I was the Registrar, so I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys." I said, "I'll treat them like recruits." I said, "Alright Academic Board," I said there to the all-powerful board and department heads. I said alright "Academic Board, fall in!" Like they were a bunch of Rookies. I said, "Fall in!" And they fell in, they fell in, they knew what I meant. So we marched in and "I said, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4," but I didn't shout like "1! 2! 3!" Just timed it, 1, 2, 3, 4, so we would be on step but the rest of them aren't supposed to hear necessarily. So we marched on the field, I halted them, and I said, "Fall out" and they fell out and went to the seats. Well, we were, I looked out at the men and the wives were there in the, in the, in the seats, you know out in the stadium, you know, and I looked around and they were laughing. I said "Boy, the girls are having a wonderful time." The wives of the department heads and everything, they were laughing and having a nice afternoon, they were laughing and everything. Well this cadet came up, he got some award, a corporal, he got some award. And it was the awards parade and they had some special academic awards or whatever awards they were. The Dean was pinning them on, Dean Perry, he went out with me, I took him down. I mean I walked down with him. And so he was a, this corporal I guess came up and he was pinning an award on him at the awards parade. And he turned as if to go back, as if he is going to go up into the stands then he Page 30 whirled around again to get back to where he was and he went down in a heap. And I said "Oh God," and I was looking, before that happened I looked and said, "What's that on the back of the dean's neck." It looked like an hourglass of red. I said, "What the hell is that on the Dean's neck?" I said, well, I don't know. So Lillian, his wife, came down crying cause he, I guess he had a little heart trouble but he tried to do, skate, ice skate and everything to stay in shape and to exercise his heart, you know. I didn't realize that till later on. So she came down crying, after they had been sitting there laughing and having a wonderful time. And all of the sudden [snaps] the switch turned and now she was crying. We didn't know it, but he dropped dead, dead on the parade ground. So they got the ambulance, loaded him into the ambulance and took him down here I guess. And ah, so when they went on with the awards parade, finished the parade, I couldn't tell you what happened, I don't think anybody. To hell with this parade, they just took our minds off worrying about the Dean. So when the Public Relations Officer, I didn't know his name, came to the gate we all rushed over to see how the Dean was and he said, "Well he is dead." Oh my God, what a shock. I tell you that, that, that whole summer we went up to Maine, to Popham Beach, and I didn't have any fun at all, really, I couldn't get him off my mind. Oh God, it was terrible. I had a terrible summer. And I remember this time, I went first day registering for classes and everything and I went there, and all of a sudden I got involved, I was in the midst of organizing something, my position there had me organize. And I swear the Lord put his hand on me and said, "Son, forget it." That's how I figured it out, just like turning on the switch I went from a miserable summer thinking about the Dean, I couldn't get him off my mind, and I went there and still felt bad and then bingo, I rolled up my sleeves and went to work. The weight just dropped right off and I said, "My God, the Lord just answered my prayer, I'm healed, I am ready to go to work." It was that fast. And that is when I began to believe in God. And that's how that went. JP: What was the hourglass on his neck? You said there was an hourglass on his neck. MHS: Well I don't know what it was. It was—showed up from the stands. It was red like an hourglass and I said, "I don't know if anybody else noticed it, probably did." I noticed it when I was sitting back there with the Academic Board. And you see, I was on the Academic Board as Registrar, without a vote. Well I didn't give a goddamn whether I voted or not, but I was on the Academic Board without vote, because of my position as Registrar. And so I sat there and looking for anything in particular and I did see that on his neck, and it was bright red, like an hourglass, spider. What's that spider that has an hourglass and is poisonous? JP: Oh, it's a black widow. MHS: Yeah, looked like a black widow spider and I didn't think anything of it, but it showed up and I was kind of, I sat in back and uh, I could see that. Then I poo-pooed the idea, I said, "Oh that's, that's nothing." But then he dropped, of course we didn't know whether he fainted or what it was, he dropped dead, and that whole summer I was, spoiled my summer, spoiled my whole summer. Page 31 JP: Was it a spider on his neck? MHS: I don't know what that was. I don't know what it was. Bright red. And I said "What is that on his neck?" I wasn't going to ask that. Then he dropped, and course we didn't know he died, we thought he could have just fainted, you know, but he dropped dead. And when the Public Relations Officer came through after the parade, I couldn't tell you what went on the parade, I don't think anybody else did either, paid attention to the parade. But they had the awards parade, and then I remember everybody rushed to the gate because the Public Relations man went up the ambulance that picked up the Dean. He came back and we knew he'd have the story on the Dean. So we all rushed to him to see how the dean was, and he said, "He is dead." JP: Oh my goodness. MHS: And let's see. And I remember so plainly. I of course spoiled my summer. That first day I, so I rolled up my sleeves and went to work and it was, I said, "It left me. It stayed with me all summer and bang!" so I turned on a light switch, and I said, "I'm done, I'm through with it, it's done, it's over with it. And I won't grieve no more. I won't grieve anymore." And I didn't and I marveled at what happened because I was—had such a miserable summer and I guess it was just to work, but like turning on a light switch. I went feeling miserable to I said, "I'm healed now, God made that, made that for me," that's what I said [chuckles]. JP: That's nice, that's nice, is there anything else you want to add about Norwich or your service? MHS: I really can't think of, it was important that I almost quit before I started [chuckles]. And Black, Black was—the Corps played tricks on Black7because Black was deaf. He had a hearing thing. He was pretty deaf. He had this hearing thing, he was always twisting it in his ear, everyone knew he was deaf. So they played a trick on him. One time the band was down at the end of the parade so they decided that they wouldn't play it, take their instruments and make believe they were playing and he wouldn't know the difference. So he walks out of here the band appeared to be playing and they weren't and he figured it was his hearing piece and cadets will do those things, you know, when a weakness, they're good at springing in there. [chuckles] They're clever that way JP: They are resourceful. Did you, when you rode horse, at Norwich, in the cavalry training, did you ride Roman style? Did you stand? Did you guys do that thing where you stand on the two horses? MHS: No, they had, no we didn't do that trick riding. We had, it was scheduled like a class, but, or the classes was every other day, meets 3 times a week, this equitation, everybody had to, was 7 LTC John W. Black, USA (ret) Commandant from 1953-1957 Page 32 a class, you got credit for it or met once a week, and that was in the, I guess the riding hall is still down there. Or the stables are there, I guess, not the riding hall is gone, and what you say now? JP: Did you get thrown at all? Or did everyone get thrown? MHS: Oh [clears throat] No. Once we were, we had a night ride and my horse we ended up in a ditch and it just wide enough for a horse and I was—I straddled the horse and I could get out, my feet were pinned in the trench, you know. It was a deep, deep trench, and it was dug, it was a trench I don't know what the purpose of it was. And I kept my feet out because it was wet in there and I got out but my horse couldn't get out. And they got, I don't know how, they got out, I've gone, but they had probably had to dig to get a pathway out, he was wedged right in there and all you could see was his head, [chuckles] head and his rump, with little bit of his rump. And just room enough so he filled that trench right up, you see? So I didn't see what they went through to get him out, of course they finally got the horse out. Now what did you say? JP: Did you get thrown? But it sounds like everybody… MHS: One time I did. I didn't get thrown, but we were galloping toward the, toward the stables and it was a free-for-all and we were going wide open. Well I was riding a horse named Ham, H-A-M, he slipped and he fell, and it landed probably by—my feet were in my stirrups but landed on my leg, but it didn't hurt me. It was a body, you know, soft, just soft and it didn't hurt me at all, didn't even make me lame, it didn't hurt me at all. And I don't know how it did get to stab- going into the stables. And well I was dismounted, because the horse stumbled and fell, so I went with the horse. That was the only time I ever fell off. JP: But the horse fell, yeah, wow. [pauses] You've done a lot of interesting things from flame throwing to… MHS: Probably, you know if you talk long enough, one things leads to another, and you, maybe one or two of them, most important things I probably haven't even mentioned yet, but I, like anybody else, like you or anybody else, you have certain experiences. And if you go off to visit and you come home, your parents want to know what you did, or somebody wants to know what you did and you try to recollect what you did. Things that impressed you. And I said so many things can happen in the situation I was in. I can, one thing can lead to another, probably two or three funny things that happen that I can't remember right now. The art, I went to theater in Morrisville, we called it Bijou Theater and they'd, before the main figure, they needed a comedy, short comedy. One reel, a comedy or a news. So this time I was sitting in the theater the Pathè News came on. It was a Norwich scene, and I said, and I said, I was so surprised, I remember the scene, I said, "I was there!" I don't know if anybody heard me in the theater. And here I was in the theater and here was a scene "I was there! I was there, "I said, "My God, I was there!" It was Pathè News and it was a big news company, worldwide, Pathè News, and somebody like Pathè, P-A-T-H-E, and everybody knew what Pathè News was. And they'd have either that or a comedy. [inaudible] I don't think anybody heard me when I said, "I was there," but I was. Page 33 JP: Where was, what was Pathè News covering? Was it overseas? MHS: It was, it was, they showed the events of Norwich, showed them coming down a steep hill, very steep hill and they're, horses were fighting, you know, as they went. Horses are well-trained, and I guess they have they trust the rider, he knows what he's doing, and they do, they have to trust the rider, so they knew didn't throw anybody, they knew they had to get down, and they were scooting, sliding, they couldn't walk or down or they had to slide down, down they went, dutifully down the steep hill. And Pathè News, which was a big news in those days, it was the big news and they recorded that scene, so that's why I said, "I was there." [chuckles] I was surprised, small world. Well as you try to recollect things, one thing leads, leads to another. If you ask me something, I go off on a tangent and probably have some remarks, yeah [chuckles]. JP: So you worked at Norwich and then you then retired, what did you do after you retired from Norwich? MHS: Let's see now. I retired, oh, I was in, oh I retired from Norwich… JP: In '70….? MHS: Oh I was Norwich for, oh I retired from Norwich, oh I guess went to, let's see. I retired from Norwich, where was I? Where was I living? I was in Chicago when I came home, I was in Chicago and [pauses] oh well I guess I retired. I just retired. Yeah I just retired. JP: So you retired here? MHS: Yeah, I had several incomes. I had 5 incomes, I can't remember all of them—TIA-CREF, a pension, Norwich salary, working at Norwich. And I remember I had 5 incomes. I had a rental income, so I had 5 incomes. So I had a good income, and when I— JP: Did you travel with Issy? Did you and Issy travel to the places? MHS: Well I, when in the Army, yes. Issy went with me. Took about 5 months for a dependent wife down in Japan. A dependent could not go to Japan. They could go to Europe, because that was all settled, but in Japan that came later on. So the wife, so after the war was over in Japan, it took about 5 months to get your dependent wife over. So I was in Japan and Issy joined me in Japan. Well she had a, it was a Washburn, it was teaching school, teaching American schools, just teaching Americans in schools in Japan. No Japanese, American dependents, children. And Issy, they were waiting, Washburn, her husband, she worked in the school system and she knew Issy was a teacher so they desperately need teachers. So I [she] said, "Has Issy got here yet, when's she coming and everything?" So Issy got there 11:00 in the morning and 1:00 she was teaching school, American children [chuckles] and so what we did, we lived—Issy she had a GS-7, that's a federal rating, you know the ratings? And she was a GS-7, which is officer, I mean, so Issy on her own, if she wasn't married to me, well that job she could go to an officer's club. IfPage 34 she was GS-5, she couldn't, but with a GS-7 she could go on her title to an officer's club. So now what were? JP: Issy traveling and teaching in Japan MHS: Yeah. She taught a—I think a graded school, then she had a special class of Japanese. And I didn't think Japanese were very goodly people but by golly, Issy, well she was at the wheel, she had this meeting and she passed out certificates. They passed a certain field in education, she trained them—she was the head of the school system, of that particular school system. And so Issy ran that show and I'm pretty proud of her and by gosh and I sat there and they'd come get their diplomas and oh they were so pleased those Japanese to get their diploma, and I look at them and for the first time I saw a beautiful Japanese girl. Most of them aren't very pretty, but by golly they were that day, I said, "By God, what a beautiful, beautiful girl, they came by me." The Japanese you have to get used to them, they have kind of a flat look like somebody slammed the door on their face or something there they, I couldn't see a pretty one there, but after I'd been there awhile there were some pretty Japanese girls. We had a maid, we were allowed two but we only wanted one. We had a male, he was a handsome Japanese man, young man, but he was a really handsome guy. He wasn't dependable so we let him go, he didn't show up when he felt like it. So we fired him. All we wanted was one anyway, and our quarters was just where we wanted it [phone goes off]. Our quarters were on a block. You could look down south of the yard and see all the shipping in the port. Oh it was a beautiful thing, we were up high and we'd look down and we were, my office was right down at the customs, customs building port of entry in Japan. And we'd, we'd, many a time there would be a cloud, you couldn't see anything, and you'd drive about a quarter or half mile, quarter or half mile, you'd be riding that cloud, when you're in it, you couldn't see much, but it was like a heavy fog. Then you'd come out of it, come out of it there's the blows all laid out for it. It was the headquarters, it was the port of entry for Japan, for commercial shipping, commercial shipping. And I had an office down there. JP: You liked Japan? MHS: I was up on the bluff. Oh I had a real, it was quarters and 388. "Oh I want those quarters." Well what they do, they post them as they come available. I knew 388 had, of all of quarters up on the bluff, way up, looking down, I said, "That is the one I want." Well they'd post - be 5 or 6 housing be available - and when your name got to the top, you got a choice, you take second place, second choice of those say ten or dozen available. And if you didn't take it, you're holding up someone, then your name went down to the bottom of the list. So you, so you couldn't get top and stay in the top. If you didn't take something, holding up for something better, you went down the bottom. So they said you couldn't do that. So I, my number didn't come up and wasn't my time to choose yet and I said, "Oh geez I hope that number doesn't come up too soon." And so my number came up, a group of people for housing, you like to stay there, at such time that you can get housing for you, you had to be there a little while before you got housing, say 10 days or something like that to get housing and that's it, oh man I said, 'Oh God, I Page 35 hope that 388 is there, if isn't I'm screwed, 'cause that's the one I wanted,' and it hadn't been on the list at all, my name was on it, that's where my lame name come up, then you got to choose, and if you don't, then you get down the bottom of the list, so you got to choose, and 'Bam' me, 388, and 'Bam,' just I wanted so I was high on the bluff and I could look down at the shipping and the port, it was way up high on the bluff, oh God it was nice. JP: What port was it, what was the name of the port, do you remember? MHS: The port? JP: Yeah, what town was it? MHS: I think it was the main port of entry, had a big huge beautiful brick building. JP: Was it Tokyo? MHS: Yeah, no, no Yokohama, Tokyo was about 17 miles I think it didn't take long because it had a beautiful, I think, 2 way highway between Yokohama and Tokyo. So you can get to Yokohama, you can be in Yokohama, and you can be in Tokyo in 20 minutes, you couldn't drive very fast. It had this beautiful road but the—I think you're limited 25 miles an hour, and I got stopped once I thought I was staying, and the GI, GI's they wrote me up I guess for speeding, I think I was going probably 26 miles an hour, something like that, and I got a ticket from a GI but he was authorized to do it, he was an MP. JP: What did you drive, what kind of car were you driving? MHS: I had a, I had Buicks, I had a new Buick, I bought a new Buick and two weeks after I bought it, I got my call to report to, I was in New England, in Vermont, to get, Seattle I think it was, a certain time no San Francisco, be in San Francisco. Then when I got in San Francisco, then Roosevelt directed me to Seattle, I got to San Francisco, then for two or three days, then they sent me to Seattle, so I shipped out of, originally it said San Francisco, but they sent me to San Francisco, I waited then they sent me to Seattle and I shipped out of Seattle for Japan, does that answer your question? JP: That's good, so you liked Japan? MHS: Yeah, so my—your car follows you by about 2 weeks so they ship your car but you have to wait about 2 weeks, before your car catches up with you. So I did, so I had a new Buick and I traded every year for a new Buick with the Japanese people, they're nice people and what I did was I'd buy a new Buick after a year I turned it in and they'd give me another new Buick. No deprecation or anything, so I got 3 brand new Buicks at no cost, and when I got home, I sold it for what I paid for it, you couldn't raise the price on a new car. That was a Japanese law, you couldn't raise a price on a new car, you could on a used car. So what they would do is buy a new car, and if you didn't want put it up on the market, then they'd probably double the money, you Page 36 couldn't sell a new car beyond the market price. Well I wanted a, they had 4 Cadillacs, well I guess I was—I was outranked or something another, I didn't get the Cadillac anyways, they only had 4. So I said to the Japanese, I said, 'Don't you now wished now you sold me the Cadillac, because I said I would sold it back to you?' that's what I did with my new Buick. I said I sold it back to you, double your money, and said, 'Yes we could have.' That was—I was too late. [chuckles] Background voice: I'm sorry to interrupt, we're about to leave, and we're about to pull out of the garage. JP: Oh, sure, well, do you have anything else you want to add Moe? MHS: Not unless, you have any questions. JP: I just want to thank you, truly for giving me the time and all this wonderful information. MHS: I like to rehash old times and I have to stop to think, to, you forget these things, but I was, I remember I felt like, I said, 'God's with me and I was an unknown major, and I had been there 3 days, and I was named the General Staff and I said, 'Uh huh,' I said, 'there must be hundreds of majors that would give their ITs to be on the General Staff,' and I was a new major, and somebody God, somebody lead me to them or me, and after 3 days I got a job on the General Staff, and I thank God for that, I said, 'God had a hand in that.' [chuckles] JP: That's certainly true, well you must have been good, [both interrupt] MHS: Oh well, I don't know…

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

Issue 55.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1996. ; lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and.apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLUVCA.SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, ,\IN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 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 ~:ommercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 1996 * VOLUME55 Q NUMBER6 contents directions 566 583 The Dialogue of Conversion: Toward Jubilee 2000 Jeffrey Gros FSC proposes ways in which religious communities can participate in the ecumenical dimension of preparing for and celebrating the bimillenary jubilee of the incarnation. A Way of Being Church: Journey, Serve, and Evangelize Erik Karl Riechers SAC explains the Union of Catholic Apostolate as a Pallottine family model for sharing a spirituality and ministry. models 593 Frances Cabrini: A Woman for Today Rita E. Goldman paints a w~rm and human portrait of Frances Cabrini as we celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of her canonization. 601 The Cistercian Martyrs of Algeria, 1996 M. Basil Pennington OCSO relates the story of the seven Cistercians who were abducted and killed in Algeria. Review for Religious life and death 613 619 Death Questions and Life Questions Cathy Arata SSND builds upon her apostolic experience in E1 Salvador in facing the hard questions of life. Prophetic Sorrow a Sign of the Times Beverly Anne LoGrasso OSU presents the Ursuline community's grief response to the rape and murder of two of their sisters. consecrated life 625 640 Full of Grace: Another Look at the 19th-Century Nun Dolores Liptak RSM relates the congregational stories of the 19th-century American sisters who transformed negative images and made of their own lives powerfully attractive invitations for service. "Objective Superiority" in Vita Consecrata Dennis J. Billy CSSR critiques the phrase "objective superiority" and presents an interpretation in the context of both Vatican II documents and Vita consecrata. 564 646 651 departments Prisms L.,'¢~,-s Canonical Counsel: Canon. 127 Technical Requirements for Advice or Consent Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 55 November-December 1996 prisms Life and death issues are always with us. At times they touch more poignantly into our experience. Traditionally the November liturgical calen-dar is~ associated with death since we begin by remem-bering all the faithful departed and through the Sunday Eucharists we face somber scripture readings about the end times. December's liturgical calendar, on the other hand, looks more to life, celebrating Mary's conception as the "immaculate one" within a hope,filled Advent sea-son which culminates with the star-bright birth of Jesus our Savior. Prisms provided by life and death issues-have us face the God- and faith-questions in our lives. They are prisms necessary if we are to value realistically who we are, who we are becoming, and what we do, what happens to us. God provides us with many other prisms which help us see and appreciate the everyday richness of our lives and ministries as Christian men and women. Some people seem to little appreciate that we all use prisms to view life, accept values, and relate to God. Perhaps many of us fail to make use of the variety of prisms available through which to develop a more ade-quate and vibrant understanding of God, self, church, and world. Rather, some seem to choose to look at life through a single monochromatic lens or through a spattered one that allows only darkness and light and voids the rich sub-tlety of dawn and sunset beauty. Christmas presents us with an ever startling prism through which we see God's presence to ourselves and our world. We celebrate God's dialogue with us through the Word by whom all things came into being and in whom we find life. In listening to John's majestic pro- Review for Religious logue about the Word becoming flesh, I find the imagery of prisms and of dialogue all of a piece. John Paul II says, "By dialogue we let God be present in our midst; for as we open ourselves in dia- 'logue to one another, we also open ourselves to God." Dialogue-- entering into the presence of the Word--is similar to the various prisms of creation which allow us to truly seek and find a labor-ing God active in our world. Paul VI, too, had boldly proclaimed that "dialogue is a new way of being church." Drawing upon the imagery of the Word made flesh, he was reclaiming evangelization as an essential ele-ment of living ~the Christian life. Just as some people close them-selves from appreciating God's pervasive love that is visible in creation only through a variety of prisms, we can be people closed to the call to be church through dialogue. We can talk only to those people who think exactly as we do. We can read nothing that would challenge 6r broaden our mind-set. We can ,enter into conversation not to listen or to learn, but only to accept agreement or refute and "win the day." Not only evangelization, but life itself is being closed down--with other~ and so with God. It can happen to any of us--bishop, priest, religious, or layperson--who may claim the possession of truth in such a way that dialogue is neither possible nor desired. Every Christmas morn faces' us with this question: How do we find the Word in a manger--today? Like shepherds on the watch or like teachable magi, are we avail-able to an alien messenger's voice for direction or to a light from afar to help guide our way? As we approach the third,.millennium, John Paul has indi-cated that dialogue encouraged by the church is fourfold: the dia-logue of life found in people's sharing as neighbors, the dialogue of actioti collaborating for a world more humfin and more divine, the dialogue of sharing the riches of offr spiritual experience and helping one another find the Absolute, the dialogue of special-ists exchanging theologiFal insights to deepen understanding and appreciation of religious heritages and spiritual values. No one of us can remain aloof today from at least some aspects of this fourfold dialogue. Dialoguemprivileged prisms in our Christian responsibility to be neighbors, ecumenists, and evangelists! All of us who dialogue with you our readers in each issue of this journal pray that you be blessed with many grace-illumined prisms .coloring your Christmas season. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1996 directions JEFFREY GROS The Dialogue of Conversion: Toward Jubilee 2000 Zeal for the unity of the church is central to Roman Catholic spirituality. As Christians move, toward the cel-ebration of the opening of the third millennium, we have been called to gospel, renewal in all dimensions of church life, especially church unity: "Among the most fervent petitions which the church makes., is that unity among all Christians of the various confessions will increase until they reach full communion.''1 For religious this is a particularly opportune moment for service in the church. Prayer, conversion, and spiri-tual renewal--to which religious have long known them-selves to be consciously called--are essential for understanding and engaging in the church's ecumenical commitment: "Concern for restoring unity pertains to the whole church, faithful and clergy alike. It extendS to every-one, according to the ability of each, whether it be exer-cised in daily Christian living or in. theological and historical studies.''2 This is a special time .for renewal of commitments already made and for deepening the knowledge, dialogue, and prayer that will serve the unity for which Christ prayed. This .essay will suggest how religious communities, especially communities of contemplative and retired per- Jeffrey Gros FSC writes from the National Conference of Catholic Bishops' Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs; 3211 4th Street, N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. Review for Religious sons, can participate in the ecumenical dimension of preparing for and celebrating the bimillenary jubilee of the incarnation (see Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation dated 25 March 1996, Vita consecrata §44). After the brief introduction, we will discuss~ (1) the jubilee theme and its preparation, (2) a schedule of prayer, (3) a program of spiritual reading, and (4) the ministry of hospitality for dialogue. Of course, the social-justice and evange-lization elements suggested for jubilee preparation also entail ecumenical dimen-sions and possibilities. The reception of the results of ecumenical dialogues is a key element in the new evangelization of which Pope John Paul so frequently speaks. With the publication of Directory for the Application of Principles and Norms on Ecumenism, religious communities have been challenged to set up commissiofis within their institutes and appoint coor-dinators for ecumenical leadership.3 Obviously the tasks of such a commission and coordinator can begin with seeing to the ecumenical component of initial and continuing formation and with applying the directory's suggestions to hospitals, schools, retreat centers, social-service and advocacy, programs, and the many other are~is where religious provide leadership and witness. Vim consecrata further spells out ways that religious can contribute to church unity (§§2, 100, and 101). However, the publication of the apostolic letter Tertio millen-nio adveniente, with its detailed program leading up to the year 2000, gives such commissions an opportunity to design a prayer cycle and educational program that can enable all, especially retired religious, to participatei a.ccording to their station in life. Obviously, diocesan ecumenical officers and local ecumenical agencies can be of great help in such planning and' implementa-tion in the communities. The specificity of the Holy Father's pro-gram lends itself to rich adaptation in local communities. The publication of the encyclical Ut unum sint, with its enthu-siasm and rich spiritual emphasis, provides a significant resource for religious community reflection. As Pope John Paul notes in the The publication of the encyclical Ut unum sint, with its enthusiasm and rich spiritual emphasis, provides a significant resource for religious community reflection. November-December 1996 Gros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion . encycl!¢.al: "A new task lies before us: that of receiving the results already achieved," which "must involve the whole people of God" (§80). The five years in preparation provide the church an oppor-tunity to pray and reflect over the results offered to the church for reception: "With regard to other Christians, the principal docu-ments of the Commission on Faith and Order [of the World Council of Churches] and the statements of numerous bilateral dialogues have already provided Christian communities with use-ful tools for discerning what is necessary to the ecumenical move-ment and to the conversion it must inspire" (UUS §17). These statements can find their way into the spiritual reading, prayer, and discussion of religious communities during the course, of the years of preparation for the jubilee celebration. The Jubilee Theme In the pope's letter on the jubilee, he emphasizes the social-justice implications of reordering society implicit in the theme selected, Leviticus 25, which recounts the biblical jubilee in which captives and slaves are liberated, land redistributed, and relations among God's people reordered. In addition to unity among Christians, conversion to a' new way of viewing society and widespread study of the church's social teaching are essential ele-ments. The World Council of Churches has already selected this same text, °under the theme "Return to God, Rejoice in Hope," for its fiftieth jubilee, to be celebrated at its 1998 assembly in Africa, In the first section of the pope's letter, he addresses the ques-tion of God's will .for the church, remarking that ~'Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today," and in the second section he lays out his own philosophy of Christian history, which is based on the theology of the incarnation. Within this theological and his-torical context, he elaborates in the third section his vision of the jubilee preparation and, in the fourth, its specific stages. We will enumerate some of the ecumenical challenges and resources that come into play on the road toward the realization of this hope. We present the stages of preparation. There are five specific stages proposed for the years between the letter's publication and the jubilee. The first phase is remote preparation, 1994-1996. It includes reflection on sinfulness and the need of repentance, iden-tification of the difficulties on both sides of the sinful divisions in the church, preparation of a program of prayer for the Holy Review for Religious Spirit's gift of unity, "the promoting of fitting ecumenical initia-tives," and repentance for acts of violence and intolerance. This will entail careful historical study and reconciliation of memories (UUS §2). For this, members of religious orders and institutes may wish to look into their own histories to discern what role their predecessors may have played in the negative his-tory of relations among churches and religious groups. They can be led by the examples of religious orders (Oblates and Jesuits) during the celebrations of the 500th anniversary of the European discovery of the Americas. Also there will be attempts to deal with the religious indifference, the widespread loss of percep-tions of transcendence, and the crisis of obedience that are the experience of our time. Finally, there will be an attempt to create an ecumenical martyrology of common heroes in the faith who have suffered and whose commitment to the cross of Christ can bring us into deeper unity with one another (UUS §84). Again, religious orders and institutes may figure prominently on these lists, particularly members who gave their lives in the past fifty years in the common struggle against communism and totalitar-ianism. This remote preparation will be followed by three years devoted to specific themes: (1) 1997 will be devoted to Christ, recalling the common baptism in which all Christians share and which is the root of .the real, if yet imperfect, communion .that supports our common pilgrimage toward full unity. (2) 1998 will focus on the Holy Spirit .fostering the many charisms of the peo-ple of God, linking Christians of the northern and southern hemi-spheres, and giving strong impetus toward church unity. This will also be the year of the World Council Assembly. Catholic engage-ment in this jubilee celebration and its preparation can be integral to the program of the churches moving together toward the year 2000, (3) 1999 will be devoted to God the Father, with a focus on penance, the preferential option for the poor, the dialogue of cul-tures, and women's rights. In this year the Holy Father suggests an interreligious focus, especially with our fellow monotheists, Jews and Muslims. Here the leadership of Pope John Paul is well ahead of the church as a whole,.with his pastoral visits, his gath-erings of religious leaders in Rome and Assisi, and his Vatican documents and addresses on dialogue.4 Finally, the jubilee itself is to be planned "and carefully pre-pared in an attitude of fraternal cooperation with Christians of November-December 1996 Gros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion other denominations and traditions, as well as of grateful openness to those religions whose representatives might wish to acknowl-edge the joy shared by all the disciples of Christ" (TMA §55). Certainly such an ambitious project ~will take skill in dialogue and outreach at ever} level of Catholic life, building on the thirty years of developing bonds of trust and affection among the churches. Religious have a significant contribution to make on this spiritual journey. ~, Prayer Cycle in therJubilee Preparation ¯ Some will participate actively in the planning and designing of the jubilee events and the engagement of the Catholic and ecu-menical communities in the dialogues, prayer opportunities, and 'study that will contribute to reconciliation. However, all religious can participate in prayer, which is at the very center of ecumeni-cal activity. In this section we will suggest particular themes according to the years leading up to the jubilee and, in the next, themes for spiritual reading which can enhance the prayer. A province or community can ask some of its members to work with some ecumenical partners to develop a set of petitions for prayer ,during the course of each year, and possibly to draw on the prayer resources of the partners.'If it is feasible, a religious com-munity can invite a leader from another church, or even a number of members of the congregation, for common prayer and reflection. Such prayer arrangemen.ts can be more or less detailed, depending on the prayer styles and flexibility of different communities,s During the time focused on early preparation and repentance, the encyclical Ut unum sint and the apostolic letter Tertio millen-nio adveniente can be reviewed to develop prayer intentions, read-ings, and themes. The themes of charity and conversion,the common martyrology, and the healing of memories all provide material for prayer of .thanksgiving, repentance, and petition to dispose the community .for the journey toward the jubilee cele-bration andthe fostering of closer Christian relationships, Specific prayers and readings on the communion (koinonia) among the churches and the goal of full communion can be drawn from World Council resources.6 General agreements on such themes as Scripture and Tradition, Eucharist and Ministry, Authority and Teaching, and Mary can provide a prayerful preparation for more specific intentions as the jubilee draws closer. Review for Religious The year 1996, because it calls specifically for the Roman Catholic Church to recall its own failures and to repent its own complicity in the divisions among Christians, might well focus on the African American churches and the peace churches (the Brethren, Hutterites, Mennonites, and Quakers). Slavery and the continuing racism and violence in American society make it par-ticularly appropriate to pray.with and for these two groups of churches in repentance, confession, reconcilia-tion, and thanksgiving.7 The historic peace churches have been persecuted by members of almost all the churches, including Roman Catholics, because of their refusal to compromise with state-sponsored and church-legitimated violence. We should not only pray for and with these Christians, but also let our prayers and actions for peace benefit from their spirituality and the discipline of their nonviolent lifestyle. Because these churches are small, it may not be easy to find members in each community, but their spiritual literature is rich and widely available. Christ, our common baptism, and the grace we share with other Christians will be emphasized in 1997. During this year, the 450th anniversary of the Council of Trent's, Decrees on Justification, it is hoped that Roman Catholics and Lutherans can proclaim, in a binding joint declaration, a common understand-ing of Christ's justifying grace received in faith by Christians. If such an agreement on grace, sin, merit, and faith were to be suc-cessful, it would be a great contribution to our common spiritual life and a basis for effective movement beyond the 16th centur)i's condemnations. Prayer for and with the Lutheran churches, for the success of such an agreement and for the influence it could have on the life of church members, and quiet meditation on the meaning of God's love in Jesus Christ, as proclaimed especially in Paul's Letter to the Romans, can make this a year that sees our commitment to Christ renewed and our full .communion with the Lutheran churches realized. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America will also be considering proposals for full communion with Episcopalians and with three Reformed or Calvinist churches: Presbyterian, United Christ, our common baptism, and the grace we share with other Christians will be emphasized in 1997. November-December 1996 Gros * The Dialogue of Conversion Church of Christ, and Reformed Church in America. These hopes and proposals for reconciliation will suggest opportunities for prayer and reflection too. Wherever Christ's will for the unity of the church is being realized, spiritually sensitive Catholics will be prayerfully attentive. During this year we can als0 include in our prayers the Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Churches and the Assyrian Church of the East. These three traditions all share with us the sacraments and bishops in the apostolic succession; a common Trinitarian and Christological faith, some elements of which have been clarified only recently in ecumenical dialogue; and a common understanding of the catholic demands of full communion in a visible, sacramental church. Existing tensions, however, especially in Eastern Europe .but also occasionally in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia, call for sensitivity, repentance, and reconciliation. Prayer for particular Orthodox and Catholic churches around the world, for their peace and reconciliation, is an important contribution to Christ's will for unity. The rich liturgical traditions of the Christian East can provide resources for community prayer and celebration for and with these churches. During 1997 we can also focus prayer on our relationship with Episcopalians and Anglicans worldwide. We share many spir-itual gifts. The dialogue has moved forward with unexpected pos-itive results, so much so that in 1994 the Holy See could say that "no further work" was necessary at this time on the theology of Eucharist and ministry, indicating that the agreements produced to date and the subsequent clarifications show a common faith as regards these two areas of our life. Obviously, the question of women's ordination and under-standings of authority and papal primacy are still under discussion. The Archbishop of Canterbury indicated, on behalf of the Anglican communion, a willingness to accept Pope John Paul's 1995 invitation to talk about how the papacy can be renewed to better serve the unity of the church. Regarding all the progress made to date, there is much for which to be grateful; for the broad common heritage of spirituality, there is much to celebrate; and, in anticipation of future steps toward full communion, there is much for which we must pray. The Episcopal Book of Common Prayer provides many resources for prayer in our religious com-munities as we yearn for the day when full Eucharistic communion can be celebrated together. Review for Religious The year 1998 will be characterized by the celebration of the Assembly of the World Council of Churches. This is an oppor-tunity to make use of the Bible-study and prayer materials that will be produced for the occasion.8 This will also be a year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, to the role of the laity, and to enhanced rela-tions between peoples in the northern and southern hemispheres. It will be a year to raise up special prayers for the Roman Synod for the Americas and its contributions to Christian reconciliation and a year for leadership by laypersons in ecu-menism. There are local ecumenical confer-ences and agencies that can provide partners in getting prayer materials ready to help com-munities focus on the churches' common wit-ness in their immediate areas. In particular, with the year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, religious communities may wish to pray with and for various Protestant churches with which the Catholic Church is committed to full communion. United Methodists, Presbyterians, the United Church of 'Christ, Disciples of Christ, and the Reformed Church in America all participate in dialogues with the Roman Catholic Church with the hope of full communion. Most of these churches have participated with the Catholic Church in the liturgical move-ment and have common prayers and liturgical texts that can form the basis for prayer services. Their local representatives and mem-bers of religious communifies could profitably share with one another their common or different experiences and perceptions of their church life. Our relationships with some other churches look, at this time, more toward mutual understanding than toward full sacramental communion. The year 1998 should provide opportunities for prayer for and with Baptists, Pentecostals, and other independent Evangelical churches. More often than with them, we may find ourselves prayingJbr them and for their conversion to an open communication and dialogue with the Roman Catholic and other Christian churches. However, some of these Christians may be willing to pray with us even if there are few other areas of col-laboration to which they would be open. Pope John Paul suggests that 1999 be dedicated to the Father The year 1998 will be characterized by the celebration of the Assembly of the World Council of Churches. November-December 1996 Gros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion and to interreligious dialogue. We can pray particularly for Jews and Muslims and engage in common prayer when this is possible. While there are some fine resources available for Christian and Jewish prayer, little has been produced for local use in interfaith worship.? Care should be taken to produce any materials jointly with those with whom prayer is planned. The diocesan ecumeni-cal officer can assist. As with Christian groups, this can be a time of reflecting on the sad heritage of past relationships (here, for example, the cru-sades, the inquisition, the holocaust) as we move through repen-tance to reconciliation and solidarity. This is a time when one can raise i~rayers to God for other families of faith and draw on some of their traditions, like Hindu yoga and Buddhist meditation, to enrich our own Christian prayer life. Also during this year, prayerful reflection on the poor, on the roles of women, and on the maternal aspects of God can nourish the spirituality and prayer life of communities and individual religious. Finally, the year 2000 is devoted to the anniversary of the incarnation, with the Holy Father hoping for a major ecumenical gathering in Jerusalem, an interfaith gathering (possibly at Mr. Sinai), and planning a Roman Catholic Eucharistic gathering in Rome. During this year, thought and prayer can look towards the harvest time, when the years of ecumenical dialogue and prayer yield their fruit: a thoroughgoing ecumenical council of Orthodox, Anglican, Roman Catholic, and Protestant Christians celebrat-ing full communion. The fruit of much prayer and study can show itself in local prayer meetings and events of celebration. On the first Sunday of Advent there will be a celebration of reconciliation in the United States for several Protestant. churches that will come together, after forty years of dialogue, to become the Church of Christ Uniting (COCU). Prayers for and with these churches for the Holy Spirit's blessing on this venture will be impor~tant for all Christians. During this period before the event, the Episcopal, Presbyterian, United Methodist, African Methodist Episcopal, Christian Methodist Episcopal, and the African Methodist Episcopal Zion churches and the United Church of Christ, the Disciples of Christ, and the International Council of Community Churches will be deciding whether they are ready for this step toward full communion. Catholics can join with these Christians in prayer as they walk the path towarO unity. Catholics can be with them in longing for Review for Relig4ous the day when more Christian churches join in similar celebra-tions of full communion. Spiritual Reading in Preparat~ion for the Jubilee As a time of prayer before the great celebration of the incar-nation, these five years can include reflection informed by read-ing that serves the same goal of deepened conversion to Christ's will for the unity of the' church. The practical suggestions here will touch three levels of reading: church documents, ecumenical doc- ¯ uments, and more general spiritual-reading resources. Partners from other churches and communities, if they are familiar with their own spiritual traditions, can provide appropriate sugges-tions to meet particular spiritual needs. While there are many church documents that can provide understanding and stimulus for our prayer life, only four recent texts will be suggested here. The most useful may be the encycli-cal Ut unum sint because of its spiritual core and the enthusiasm with which it is written. Like all of the encyclicals of Pope John Paul, it includes much that is.familiar to those following the ecu-menical movement over the'last thirty years. However, if a para-graph or two are taken for meditative reading each day, with reflection on how the pope's comments relate to one's own expe-rience~ and how one is challenged by the values he lays out, this text can be of significant help. The Holy Father's emphasis on renewal of the individual and the church, on the centrality of prayer and dialogue to nourish prayer, on the dialogues of con-version and charity, on the centrality of love and truth, on the reception and celebration of gifts from others, and on openness to repentance and change, all provide profound opportunities for conversation with God about his will for us and for the church. The apostolic letter Tertio millennio adveniente is of a different character. Its first two sections, on theology and history, are rather dense. Careful reading, however, and even exploring of events and ideas laid out here and in the rest of the letter will be a help-ful orientation as one begins these five carefully programmed years of reflection and prayer. Some of the anniversaries recalled in the second section of the letter will lead us to want to read about certain segments of the Christian community, about certain saints and Christian leaders, and about the development of the church in different cultures. OUr prayer life can be nourished by November-December 1996 Gros * The Dialogue o~ Conversion biography and Christian history as we carry our heritage toward the future. Some may find the other two documents less spiritually nour-ishing since they have a more specific purpose. For those, however, who would choose to reflect on them prayerfully, they have a sig-nificant contribution to make. The Directory for the Application of Principles and Norms on Ecumenism is a more formal document, with theological and juridical content. For those who are involved in leadership or who wish to reflect on the position of the Catholic Church, this text is foundational. The sections on Ecumenical Formation and on Communion in Life and Spiritual Activity pro-~ vide important bases for reflecting on one's community's and one's own spiritual formation and on ministry in the light of what God is doing in the church. The apostolic letter on the churches of the East, Orientale lumen, will help, during the year 1997, in ini-tiating reflection on Christological understandings that have emerged in dialogues and on the spiritual riches of this half of the tradition catholic?° Much of what one finds in this text is also outlined in Ut unum sint. From our dialogues with other churches, we are fortunate to have very rich results to nourish our spiritual reading and our spiritual lives. Though some of these are technical texts, all of them are oriented toward bringing us closer to Christ and his mysteries and to one another in the church God has willed for us. The reconciliation which they are meant to serve is as deeply spiritual as it is theological and institutional. Therefore, it is use-ful for every religious house and spiritual renewal center to have a library where these ecumenical results are available for reading and reflection.11 These documents should facilitate for us a pro-cess of spiritual .reconciliation by giving us a deeper appreciation of the gifts of the other Christian churches and help us make the unity to which they witness a part of our own spiritual life. For each year coming up, there are significant resources for our reading and reflection. In 1996, getting to know the African American and peace churches can enrich our own faith and com-mitment to justice and peace in our spiritual lives.12 In 1997, deci-sions will be before the Catholic and Lutheran churches concerning the doctrine of grace, a focus on Christ's saving love that can renew all Christians.~3 This theme of justification by faith has produced some important spiritual-reading volumes in English.14 The Anglican-Roman Catholic dialogue has already Review for Religious produced some marvelous results that enrich our sacramental understanding.~5 We are fortunate to have the texts of the Orthodox, both Eastern and Oriental, available.~6 For special attention in 1998, various documents already recommended and the specific preparatory materials for that year's World Council Assembly provide ample resources. In this year many could well reflect on the history and future of the churches together in the World Council.17 An extensive set of materials on Christian-Jewish and interreligious dialogue has been developed for reading and reflection; it can be especially useful during 199928 For more general spiritual reading, there is a variety of resources available. For 1996, books on conversion, ecumenical journeys, rec-onciliation, and ecumenical spirituality are widely available29 The African American and peace church traditions provide rich prayer and meditation resources for 1997.20 Spiritual biographies are a way of understanding the spiritual journeys of early and later Orthodox, Anglican, and Protestant Christians. Lives of Luther and resources from Orthodox and Anglican spiritual writ-ers can enrich one's sensitivity and appreciation for these tradi-tions. 2 ~ In 1998 (and earlier too) a wide variety of Bible-study resources will be available from the. World Council of Churches. That would be a year to reflect on the spiritualities of John Calvin, John Wesley, and Roger Williams and on the Christian commu-nities of which they were leaders.22 As a result of Thomas Merton's influence and the East/West monastic dialogue, religious are per-haps more acquainted with some interreligious resources than they are with such ecumenical onesfl3 In any case, 1999 provides an opportunity to deepen and broaden our reading in various living spiritual traditions of world religions.24 Approaches to other believers can, moreover, enrich our understanding of and rela-tionship to fellow Christians of other churches.~5 Finally, the jubilee year itself can be a time of reflection on the hopes of the whole Christian community for an ecumenical coun-cil that will truly unite Orthodox, Catholic, Anglican, and Protestant churches.26 Our prayer life can be nourished by biography and Christian history as we carry our heritage toward the future. Noventber-Decentber 1996 Gros * The Dialogue of Conversion The Ministry of Hospitality Institutional and theological efforts have their contribution to make toward visible unity. More importan( are the spiritual resources that foster zeal for God's will for the church. But the relational dimension of ecumenical spirituality can be realized only by people's concrete experience of the "dialogue of conver-sion" of which Pope John Paul speaks so eloquently in Ut unum sint. These five years provide an opportunity for any.community, no matter how mobile or sedate, to invite fellow Christians of other churches in for prayer, a meal, and possibly a discussion, depending, on people's time and interest (see VC §101). If more care can be given to such an invitation, communities can share some common reading before, the visit and can invite a Christian leader, her or his spouse, and even some members of their church. The ecumenical officers of the diocese can be of particular assis-tance in making these contacts and advising on appropriate ser-vices and programs. Pope John Paul outlines the basis for this dimension of the ecumenical spirituality: , If prayer is the "soul" of ecumenical renewal and of the yearning for unity, it is the basis and support for everything the council defines as dialogue. This definition is certainly not unrelated to today's personalist way of thinking. The capacity for dialogue is rooted in the nature of the person and his dignity. As seen by philosophy, this approach is linked to the Christian truth concerning man as expressed by the council: Man is in fact "th~ only creature on earth which God willed for itself"; thus he cannot "fully find him-self except through a sincere gift of himself." Dialogue is an indispensable step along the path toward human self-real-ization, the self-realization both of each individual and of every human community. Although the concept of dialogue might appear to give priority to the cognitive dimension, all dialogue implies a global, existential dimension. It involves the human subject in his or her entirety; a dialogue between communities involves in a particular way the subjectivity of each. (UUS §28) Religious, with their experience of community and renewal, of dialogue and governance since Vatican II, are in a particularly advantageous position to model and expand this dimension of ecumenical spirituality in preparation for the jubilee. As we Christians move toward the third millennium with hopes of full communion growing ever stronger, we support our Review for Religious prayer with the disciplines of spiritual reading, meditation, com-mon worship, and dialogue. In Vita consecrata the Holy Father calls upon religious to notice their excellent opportunity to con-tribute to the experience of koinonia, which lies at the basis of hopes for full communion among the churches: "A great task also belongs to the consecrated life in the light of the teaching about the church as communion . Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion as 'w.itnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design.' The sense of ecclesial communion, developing into a spirituality of communion, promotes a way of thinking, speaking, and act-ing which enables the church to grow in depth and extension" (VC §46). The first thirty ~,ears of Roman Catholic ecumenical involve-ment have been characterized by getting to know our ecumenical partners and understanding their churches, theology, and spiri-tualities. The theological dialogues have been most productive. In 1997 we are beginning.a third phase of the dialogue,27 This spir-itual journey from dialogue to decision is a spiritual resource that needs to be available to all Catholics. As our relationship with the Lord deepens in preparation for the celebration of his incar-nation, so "in the deep personal dialogue which each of us must carry on with the Lord in' prayer, concern for unity cannot be absent. Only in this way, in fact, will the concern fully become part of the reality of our life and of the commitments we have taken on in the church" (UUS §27). Notes ' John Paul II, Tertio millennio adveniente ("As the Third Millennium Draws Near"), Origins 24, no:' 24 (24 November 1994): §16 (hereafter Ta4A). 2 John Paul II, Ut unum sint ("That All May Be One"), Origins 25, no. 4(8 June 1995): §19 (hereafter UUS). 3 Directory for the Application of Principles and Norms on Ecumenism, Origins 23, no. 9 (29 July 1993): §§50-51. 4 Red}mptoris missio, Origins 20, no. 34 (31 January 1991): §29. s One might suggest a prayer for each year. For example, the Magnificat for 1996 (repentance), the Te Deum for 1997 (Christ), the Veni Sancte Spiritus for 1998 (Holy Spirit), and the Nicene Creed for 1999 (God the Father). November-December 1996 Gro~ ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion 6 Thomas Best and Gtinther Gassmann, eds., On the Way to Fuller Koinonia (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1993). Gtinther Gassmann, ed., Documentary History of Faith and Order: 1963-1993 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1993). 7 The Office of African-American Catholics provides a kit, Love One Another, including prayer materials that can be used for such services (U.S. Catholic Conference Publishing Services; 3211 4th Street, N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017). Other prayer materials, designed by the African Methodist Episcopal, Christian Methodist Episcopal, and African Methodist Episcopal Zion Churches. Liberation and Unity, for ecumeni-cal Lenten use, is available from Consultation on Church Union; Research Park; 151 Wall Street; Princeton, New Jersey 08540. ~ Available from: World Council of Churches U.S. Office; 475 Riverside Drive;New York, New York 10115; tel. 202-870-2470. 9 H. Schlesinger and H. Porto, Prayers of Blessing and Praise for All Occasions (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third publications, 1987). Leon Klenicki and Bruce Robbins, Jewish and Christians: A Dialogue Service about Prayer (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1995). ~o Orientale lumen, Origins 25, no. 1 (18 May 1995). 11 Lukas Vischer and Harding Meyer, eds., Growth in Agreement Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level (New York: Paulist Press, 1984). Jeffrey Gros and Joseph Burgess, eds., Building Unity (New York: Paulist Press, 1989) and Growing Consensus (New York: Paulist Press, 1995). Also the volumes noted in n. 5 above. 12 William Watley, Singing the Lord's Song in a Strange Land (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1992). Marlin Miller and Barbara Nelson Gingrich, eds., The Church's Peace Witness (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1994). 13 H. George Anderson, T. Austin Murphy, and Joseph A. Burgess, eds., Justification by Faith (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985). Karl Lehmann and Wolfhart Pannenberg, eds., The Condemnations of the Reformation Era: Do They Still Divide? (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990). 14 Jared Wicks SJ, Yearning for Grace: Luther's Early Spiritual Teaching (Philadelphia: Coronet Books, 1969) and Luther and His Spiritual Legacy (Wilmingtom Michael Glazier, 1983). George H. Tavard, Justification: An Ecumenical Study (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). is William Purdy, The Search for Unity (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1995). Christopher Hill and Edward Yarnold, eds., Anglicans and Roman Catholics: The Search for Unity: The ARCIC Documents and their Reception, (London: SPCK/CTS, 1994). 16 John Borelli and John Erickson, Orthodox and Catholic in Dialogue (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir Seminary Press/Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1995). Ronald G. Roberson, ed., Oriental Orthodox-Roman Catholic Pastoral Relationships and Interchurch Marriages (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1995). Paul Fries and Tiran Nersoyan, Christ in East and VVest (Macon: M. ercer University Press, I ~87). Review for Religious ~7 W.A, Visser't Hooft, The Genesis and Formation of the World Council of Churches (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1982). 18 "Dialogue and Proclamation," Origins 21, no. 8 (4 July 1991), "Interreligious Dialogue," Living Light 32, no. 2 (Winter 1995), Eugene Fisher and Leon Klenicki, eds., In Our Time: The Flowering of Jewish- Catholic Dialogue (New York: Paulist Press, 1989). 19 For the Conversion of the Churches, by Groupe des Dombes (Geneva, Switzerland: World Council of Churches, 1993). Dianne Kessler, Lorelei Fuchs, and Gillian Evans, Encounters.for Unity (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 1994). Michael Hurley, ed., Reconciliation in Religion and Society (Belfast: Institute of Irish Studies, 1994), and Timothy J. Wengert and Charles W. Brockwell Jr., eds., Telling the Churches' Stories: Ecumenical Perspectives on Writing Christian History (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1995). Louis Dupr~ and Don Saliers, eds., Christian Spirituality: Post-Reformation andModern (New York: Crossroad, 1989), and E. Glenn Hinson, ed., Spirituality in Ecumenical Perspective (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993). 20 James Washington, Conversation with God: Two Centuries of Prayers by African Americans (New York: HarperCollins, 1994). Daniel Liechty, ed., Early Anabaptist Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1994). 21 Bengt Hoffman, ed., The Theologica Germanica of Martin Luther (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), and Roland Bainton, Here I Stand (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1991). William Wolf, Anglican Spirituality (Wilton, Connecticut: Morehouse Publications, 1982). Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Way (London: Mowbrays, 1979) and The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology (London: Faber and Faber, 1966); Georges Barrois, ed., The Fathers Speak (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1986). 22 J.L. Richard, The Spirituality of John Calvin (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1974). Alexander Ganoczy, The Young Calvin (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1987). Richard P. Heitzenrater, Wesley and the People Called Methodists (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995). Frank Whaling, ed., John and Charles Wesley (New York: Paulist Press, 1981). Edwin Gaustad, Liberty of Conscience: Roger Williams in America (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1991). 23 Thomas Ryan, Prayer of Hear.t and Body (New York: Paulist Press, 1995). 24 Aloysius Pieris SJ, Love Meets Wisdom (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1988). William Johnston sJ, The Still Point (New York: Fordham University Press, 1980). Patrick G. Henry and Donald K. Swearer, For the Sake of the World: The Spirit of Buddhist and Christian Monasticism (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989). Anthony de Mello SJ, Sadhana: A Way to God (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979). M. Thomas Thangaraj, The Crucified Guru (Nashville: Abingdon, 1994). Achiel Peelman, Christ Is a Native American (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). Leon Klenicki and Gabe Huck, eds., Spirituality and Prayer: Jewish and Christian Understandings(New York: Paulist Press, 1983). Bernard Lee, The Galilean November-December 1996 Crros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion Jewishness ofyesus (New York: Paulist Press, 1988). The Paulist Press's Classics of Western Spirituality series includes many Muslim and Jewish titles. zs Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural. Research, Confessing Christian Faith in a Pluralistic Society, (Collegeville, 1995). 26J.M.R. Tillard, A Church of Churches (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991). Aram Keshishian, Conciliar Fellowship(Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1992). John Zizioulas, Being as Communion; Studies in Personhood and the Church, (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1985). Lewis Mudge and Paul Crow, eds., "Toward the Year 2000: An Ecumenical Celebration," Midstream 24~ no. 4 (October 1987). 27 John Hotchkin, "The Ecumenical Movement's Third Stage," Origins 25, no. 21 (9 November 1995): 353-361. I Am the Bread I am the Bread baked of the Father's fine flour, molded in Mary by Spirit's pure power. I am the Bread Bethlehem born, kneaded and nailed, scorching with scorn, rising from death and the dead. I am the Bread. Come, eat me, hold me, share me, held by death, never. Living forevert. We are the bread. Jean Miriam Donachie SC Review for Religious ERIK KARL RIECHERS A Way of Being Church: Journey, Serve, and Evangelize Together I~rhere is any one way of describing the quandary of modern atholic life, I would suggest this: that we are groping for a way of being church. Small Christian communities, lay-associate programs, lay-formation programs, justice movements, secular institutes, and a host of other ecclesial forms all seek practical, concrete ways of living the reality of church. It is to ecclesiology that people generally go for a deep under-standing of the nature and purpose of the church. Yet a second, com-plementary avenue is open to us, namely, seeking in our.own praxis of church life specific principles that other ecclesial groups could apply to themselves. It is a good thing to celebrate our own local church history and Spirit-filled growth, but it is regrettable that oth-ers derive litde profit from it when we neglect to share it with them. Here I intend to share the exl~erience of the Union of Catholic Apostolate (UAC). While its experience is not automatically adapt-able to the church at large or even to every institute of consecrated life, the UAC has learned some essentials that could easily serve the entire people of God, helping it on its way of being church. One Way of Being Church: The Union of Catholic Apostolate When people first hear about the UAC, they almost Erik Karl Riechers SAC last wrote for us in March-April 1995. His address is Pallottine Faith Enrichment Centre; 6 McMillan Avenue; Red Deer, Alberta; T4N 5X8 Canada. November-December 1996 Riecbers ¯ A Way of Being Church always assume that they are being introduced to yet another form of third-order spirituality, that of the Pallottine Fathers and Brothers. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. The UAC is a radical and very challenging break from the model of spiri-tuality that led to the third orders. In the 1980s the conservative theory of "trickle-down" eco-nomics became popular. The concept was simple. If great wealth and prosperity could be produced at the top levels of society and the state, then benefits and positive effects would trickle down to lower levels. The idea of third orders might well be described as "trickle-down" spirituality. The concept was that an order would have a rich and vibrant spirituality and that, after a time, this spiritual wealth would be shared by other religious with a similar interest or direction. These would be the second orders. Finally, lay people would want to share in the founding spirituality, and some of it would trickle down to them, allowing them to par-ticipate in some derivative fashion, but never fully and certainly not in the same sense as the first order. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with this model, and it is not my intention to belittle or ridicule it. However, for the Pallottine family it leaves a great deal to be desired, for it fails to recognize the element that is always at the heart of our UAC spir-ituality: that all Christian men, women, and children are called by name to an apostolic life. This vocation, this life, does not trickle down from the Pallottine Fathers and Brothers, nor is it but a shadow of someone else's spirituality. The calling of Christians is directly from God, not delei~ated to them by the hierarchy. Their spirituality, therefore, must be as unique as their vocation, and not just an offshoot of the spirituality of another person or group. The UAC is a concrete expression of Vatican Council II's teaching on the universal call to holiness that insists that "all the faithful are invited and obliged to holiness and the perfection of their own state of life" (Lumen gentium §42). Imagine a great shimmering pool. For this pool's water a num-ber of tribes have various needs. Yet each of them goes to the common pool in order to satisfy those needs. The tribes procure the water and carry it home in distinctive containers, yet each has taken life-giving water from the same source. Some will use the water to cook, others to drink, others to wash the grime from their bodies, while yet others intend to douse the plant~ that will grow to still their hunger. Review for Religious The image reveals to us the way in which the UAC approaches Pallottine spirituality. The pool is Pallottine spirituality, and its contents are the ideals, intuitions, and insights of Vincent Pallotti. Every group of the UAC is distinctive and has a unique need for what is within the common pool of Pallottine spirituality. The Pallottine Fathers and Brothers go to that pool and realize its spiritu-ality in their own unique way. The Pallottine Sisters draw from the pool and use what they have drawn from its depths in their own par-titular fashion. Every group, lay or religious, goes to the same life-giv-ing source, goes to Pallotti, and comes away with its own manner of letting that life flow through them. We know ourselves to be one, for our thirst has led u~ to the same pool, and we acknowledge that we are all nourished from a common source. Yet we know ourselves to be unique, for that invigorating fountain of spirituality is cre-atively used to nourish many forms and variations of life in the Spirit. When we look across the world at all the expressions of the UAC, we see a web of communities, a grand alliance of spiritual-ity, and a confederation of Christians. Despite our wide diversity and exceedingly different experiences of life, we support one another as communities and individuals and share those experi-ences. This has been our ultimate strength, the power that is born of a genuine solidarity. For when we gaze upon the countenance of our Pallottine brothers and sisters, we recognize first and fore-most the people who stand beside us at the pool of Pallottine spirituality, who share our thirst, and who share our way of slak-ing it. In that gaze lies the certain knowledge that we are not alone in life. In our family no one receives a scrap from the mas-ter's table, because we all have an equal seat at that table. Despite our wide diversity and exceedingly different experiences of life, we support one another as communities and individuals and share those experiences. A Way of Forming Church I am often asked: What does the UAC offer people? I believe November-December 1996 Riechers * A Way of Being Church " that there are a number of interwoven answers to that question, each of them a principle applicable--though in varied ways--to the experience of being church. The need for spiritual growtb.~Many people today have a grow-ing awareness that their spiritual lives need more than a bare min-imum, that these lives of theirs have failed to grow beyond the confines of the catechism classes of their formative years. They come to the realization that children's catechesis does not suffice in a world of adult problems, and they begin to experience the need for development toward a responsible adult faith. Yet often they then face a second problem, namely, that they can get many bits and pieces in workshops, seminars, and adult-education classes, but that there are few places where they can get a comprehensive formation in Catholic, spiritual living. The UAC is a place where we begin to solve this problem through four movements. In the UAC we assist one another in coming to an adult faith in an adult church. Our manual of formation, titled Called by Name, offers a systematic approach to spiritual growth. Here we move the believer from the sporadic to the systematic. Called by Name takes a thorough look at eight great facets of spirituality: (1) God's infinite love and mercy and its effect in our lives, (2) the presence and work of God in human time and history, where we might experience this God, (3) the sheer power of the word of God, (4) communion as the antidote to loneliness and polarization, (5) the unrelenting call to embark on the mission with Christ, (6) the covenant according to which God creates, a homeland for Christians, (7) community that gathers under God's grace, and (8) hope and unity that,sustains and drives the Christian life. Each of these themes is tackled from three different angles. First, from the point of view of Catholic spirituality, we link our-selves with the Great Tradition and the wealth that Scripture, Vatican Council II, and Christian experience have to offer us. Here we move the believer's faith from adolescence to adulthood. Second, from the point of view of Pallottine spirituality, the members of the UAC experience the wonderful depth and richness of Vincent Pallotti's approach to God and the faith. Here we move the believer's spirituality from the common to the concrete. In this part of our formation, we make a transition from the common spirituality of all the people of God to a specifis form of realizing this spirituality in our concrete lives, the specific form of Pallottine spirituality. Review for Religious Finally, we learn together how we can integrate what we have learned into a life of prayer as members of the UAC. Employing the rich resources of the Tradition and the Pallottine heritage, we explore many forms of prayer in order that individuals may find a prayer method suited to their temperament and need and that all together we may discover the splendid variety of oppor-tunities to raise our minds and hearts to the living God. In this final part of a chapter's formation, we move the believer from prin-ciple to prayer. Hand in hand with this desire to grow in faith beyond the bare-bones basics is the need to sustain Christian life and aposto-late. In order to be church we must keep the flame of faith alive in our hearts, to "confirm our call and election" (2 P 1:10). This, however, has become an increasingly daunting task in today's society. Many people who are committed to liv-ing out their Christian commitment in the world suddenly find themselves facing unre-lenting pressures from their colleagues, friends, and acquaintances to conform to social norms that con-tradict their faith commitment. When they choose to go to Mass rather than the picnic, to be people of generosity rather than gos-sips, and to offer compassion in the place, of criticism, they often discover that the reward is outright ridicule for living in such a way as to be a "sign of contradiction." Unfortunately, no one wants to be contradicted. When Christian life is lived with pas-sion and zeal, it says to the people who live what is an otherwise unchallenged lifestyle that we would beg to differ. Yet, while this is a hard reality to live through, it is not the crux of our problem. It is hard enough to keep the flame of faith alive in our hearts without the added burden of trying to do this as a solo per.formance. People are looking for support in their lives, in their struggles. It is easy enough to fall away from the Way of Christ, but hard to resist the many temptations and avoid the pitfalls constantly presented to us on that way. Therefore, many people are experiencing the need to find a place where the spiritual life they have formed can be sustained and strengthened. The UAC is a place where people can find a spiritual homeland for Hand in hand with this desire to grow in faith beyond the bare-bones basics is the need to sustain Christian life and apostolate. November-December 1996 Riecbers ¯ A Way of Being Church themselves. It offers the chance to speak of our faith, the daily struggles that affect it, and the many experiences and encoun-ters at work, rest, or play that challenge it. The UAC is the place where committed Christians share the many ways in which their faith can be lived as parents, professionals, business people, and citizens of the nation. It is the place where we heed the admo-nition of the Letter to the Hebrews: "Keep encouraging one another so that none of you is hardened by the lure of sin" (Heb 3:13). In the UAC we offer one another courage by teaching one another the joys of fidelity, giving one another a hand when we stumble along, speaking of our hope in moments of despair, and walking the way together, even when the path leads through dark-ness. Then, and only then, do we consider our Christian call to be fulfilled. Encouragement is the UAC's way of keeping the hearts of our brothers and sisters from being hardened.~It is all too easy to point out the lure of sin, to make people aware of the dangers lurking on every side that threaten to devour them whole if they are unwary. In the UAC we choose the harder Way of encourag-ing one another, resisting easier ways. This way is much harder because it demands that we get involved. The members of the UAC are committed not just to spreading faith, but also to keep-ing it alive in one another, and that means being committed to one another. It is the way of our Pallottine spirituality not just to point .to solutions, but to be part of the solution, part of the heal-ing. When we are lost, it is a pleasant thing to find someone who can give us directions. It is, however, without doubt a better thing when that person offers to guide us directly. Together to Evangelize A guiding motto of the UAC has been "Together to Evangelize." Over the course of the last years, three components have helped our reflection on our role within the New Evangelization: the scripture passage of the road to Emmaus, the person and charism of Vincent Pallotti, and the call to mission. So that we may be guided yet again to the place ~of renewal for .all the Pallottine family, I take a word from Reinhold Niebuhr as a lantern to light our path. With piercing insight this great Protestant theologian wrote: Review for Religious Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our life-time; therefore, we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, no matter how virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we must be saved by love. Let us bring this word to Emmaus experience, to Pallottine perceptivity, and to people who are together for evangelization. "Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; there-fore, we must be saved by hope. "Two despairing disciples walk away from a life once brimming over with aspirations, hopes, and dreams. To follow Christ--ah, here was the achievement of a life-time, an endeavor worthy of discipleship, an undertaking for which you could put your life on the line and leave your "fishing nets lying on the shore." In .Christ they thought they had found the One worth investing their entire lives in. Their words speak of their hearts' discontent: "But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel" (Lk 24:21). And why not? After all, this man's words gave wings to the hopeless spirit, set sinners' hearts a-soaring, and suffused beaten men and women with vibrant new life. Here was a prophet "mighty in word and deeds," whose power calmed waves and curbed fears, sent healing grace rippling through the bleeding woman and peace to the demoniac's shattered soul, The dream of liberation from the heavy foot of Rome, glory for God and royal dignity for themselves, was vividly real; it was a dream wor-thy of a lifetime of sacrifice. It was a dream not to be! "Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime." Pallotti clearly concurs. "On my own I can do nothing; with God I can do everything." What Pallotti sees with a clarity begot-ten of grace is that no effort of ours, regardless how noble, how ideal or how cloaked in dignity, will find fulfillment in our lifetime. Our effort, strength, stamina~ and speed will first thrill us and then tantalize us with their obvious inability to coerce complete-ness out of our life's work. God alone can deliver more than we may manufacture. God alone can write an ending beyond our endings. "Not the intellect., not the will., not worldly goods ¯. not riches., not honor., not dignity., not promotions, but God." With Pallottine conviction we profess that God alone is our hope: "therefore, we must be saved by hope." Born of this Pallottine conviction is the UAC's task for the November-December 1996 Riecbers ¯ A Way of Being Church Z---ygOJ New Evangelization. We must turn to the busy world with its many worthwhile pursuits and offer it the hope that comes from God alone~ Otherwise the worthy work of our people will become their downfall, as they rdalize that no fulfillment is forthcoming in their lifetimes. You can go out and combat poverty with leonine ferocity, but, for every Ethiopian fed yesterday, a Somali starves today. You can dedicate yourself to nobly terminating racism, and do it with a Schwarzeneggerian swagger, but today's apartheid-free South Africa yields its ~place in the news to a genocidal Rwanda. Gorbachev tears down walls for freedom; elsewhere someone loots the bill for terrorists. Desmond Tutu seeks to set his people free with the South African Truth Commission's airing of stories buried too long and too deep; others, far away in various direc-tions, distort ,the truth in hate-mongering rhetoric. Into this world we have been sent. To these men and women we must speak of the God of infinite love who can give every worthwhile human endeavor the blessing of a consummation that human history will relentlessly, ruthlessly deny it. We are together to evangelize so that people may be saved by hope. "Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we must be saved by faith." The Emmaus-bound disciples have tasted beauty, truth, and goodness in their time with Christ. "Before God and all the people', (Lk 24:19), Jesus revealed the beautiful heart, that wel-comes children; the true heart of the teacher lecturing tirelessly, openly, and authoritatively in temple and boat, on mountain and plain; and the good heart weeping for Lazarus in the tomb, heal-ing the centurion's servant, and shielding Mary from the harangu-ing of her harried elder sister. Now they stand in a puzzlement born of betrayal. For this beauty, truth, and goodness called Christ has been condemned to death and crucified. Moreover, even the empty tomb, the vision of angels, and the women's confident assertion that Jesus yet lives is now nonsensical to the disciples. The resurrection with the gaping truth of the tomb, the celestial beauty of an angelic news flash, and ~the gripping goodness of tidings that Jesus is 'risen from the dead~all remain meaningless because the only context these two know is death .and destruction with their definitive finality., "Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate, context of history." Review for Religion's Pallotti continually points to faith as the only context big enough to allow us to make heads or tails out of life's maddening complexity. If the span of our days is all we have, if the psalmist's seventy years (or eighty for the strong) are all we have for com-prehending life's events, then no avenue save futility and absurdity is open to us. Vincent Pallotti prescribes faith in the God of infi-nite love as the antidote: God's infinity offers a context in which we can live beyond the immediate experience. While Pallotti himself does not understand every why and wherefore of God's will, he has faith that God is not to be outdone in generosity. Puzzled and likely hurt by the rumor-mongering jealousy that made his pastorate in Spirito Santo a nightmare lived in waking hours, and eventually caused an unjust and unjus-tifiable suppression of the UAC, Pallotti has faith in the inex-haustible mercy and mystery of God, which will open up the present hour of harrowing agony to a meaning beyond the momentary. Here we find the UAC's second task in the New Evangelization. We must teach faith as a means of finding mean-ing beyond the momentary. The immediate context of history has to be broadened to the eternal horizon of faith, which is God himself. The now is simply not enough. Try as we may, the death of children by abuse does not make sense in our immediate context alone. What does truth mean in our day when wealthy people may purchase enough legal persuasion to win verdicts of "not guilty," while ordinary people of low or moderate incomes may find themselves convicted after minimal arguments for the defense? Can the immediate context alone help us cope with the drunken driver who walks away, unsteadily but alive, from the crash that claims the life and aspi-rations of the teetotaling pedestrian? Unlike Disney movies, lost dogs do not always find their way home, mermaids do not always find princes, beasts do not always marry beauties, angels are not always in the outfield, and some Cinderellas die in grinding poverty without ever making it to the ball. We must spread faith in God, for his rising from the dead is the only possibility of writing a conclusion beyond the otherwise absolute, limiting finality of human life. We are together to evan-gelize so that people may be saved by faith. "Nothing we do, no matter bow virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we must be saved by love." A final glance at the road to Emmaus revealsto us the truth of this Niebuhrian statement. November-December 1996 Riechers ¯ A Way of Being Church The disciples are doing a virtuofis thing. They are talking about all the things that happened in, Jerusalem, seeking a shred of meaning, a fleeting glimpse of God, in the morass their lives have become. Yet they do not accomplish anything until Jesus interprets everything for them. Pallotti once wrote, "My Jesus, anyone who does not love you cannot live." Why not? Because, if people do not love, they do not reach beyond .themselves, for love is self-transcendende. If we never reach past our narrow needs and greeds, we remain alone; like the gospel grain of wheat. But those who remain alone do not live. Out of this divinely, revealed and inspired love, Pallotti would have us move from self to neighbor. It is this infinite love that drove him to found the UAC. This love is the constitutive ele-ment of the UAC. This love is what Pallotti would have us rekin-dle. This love, however, we cannot accomplish on our own. We must receive it from the God of infinite love. As the UAC we find in this experience our last task for the New Evangelization. A clear-eyed view of the world shows us a devastating truth: We cannot go it alone; we must be saved by love. The rugged individualism of the 1980s has decayed into the ragged loneliness of the 1990s. The myth of ever-expanding opportunities and limitless futures has collided headlong with the era that downsizes everything, including compassion. The peren-nial quest for self-discovery has not relieved our people of their confusion. They must be saved by love. And we must be together to evangelize so that it may be so! There you have it. Our journey has been hard, but happy, touched by love and laughter, sprinkled with songs and tears. It is the price to be paid if we would find a way of being church. In the end of all our journeys, we can only hope that this rendering of a passage of Virgil's Aeneid (1.198-203) may be true of us: "And the time will come when it will gladden our hearts to recall these first trying days and the difficult things that we did, not each of us striving alone, but all of us working together." Review for Religious RITA E. GOLDMAN Frances Cabrini: A Woman for Today What if Mother Cabrini had been born in 1950 instead of 1850? What aspects of her life would be different? Personally, I think none. She was a true daughter of the church, and I am sure she would have welcomed the era of Vatican Council II. Even in her day she was considered forward. When she wanted Missionaries in the title of her religious congregation, she was told only men were mis-sionaries. At that time there was in Italian no feminine form of the masculine word missionari. A certain Father Marinoni, the director of the Foreign Mission Seminary, said, "It is not even in the dictionary." But she persisted. In Italy her sisters came to be called Missionarie del Sacro Cuore di Gesi~. We often think of saints as human beings far above ourselves, not realizing that in their lives they experienced their humanity in ways that we could recognize from our own lives. Perhaps it is the way the saints have been writ-ten about that leads us to think they were not truly human beings like ourselves. Many years ago lives of saints were written in very flowei'y, complimentary terms. The books Rita E. Goldman retired from United States foreign service in 1989 after assignments in Liberia, Nepal, Burma, Cameroon, and Romania. Since then, besides some volunteer work with Holy Cross sisters in Israel and with Mother Cabrini's sisters in Chicago, she has been involved in the RCIA program of her parish, St. Frances Cabrini. Her address is 3041 North Country Club Road, Apt. 220; Tucso.n, Arizona 85716. models November-December 1996 Goldman * Frances Cabrini 5.94 tended to portray only their "saintly" attributes, making the per-' sons seem not human to us when we read about them. In this article I hope to present Mother Cabrini as a real person, one very much like us. In fact, several prelates and business associ-ates who had known her were surprised when she was canonized. They said that in many business transactions she did not behave like a saint--she often pounded the table to make a point and would raise her voice in a heated exchange! Mother Cabrini was a modern woman. Her interests were extensive, and she certainly did not adapt 'readily to the role expected of late-19th- and early-20th-century women religious. She was a business woman and world traveler, keenly aware of the currents of thought in the world of her time. In fact, after her meditation, prayers, and Mass each morning, one of the first things she did was read the morning newspapers. This was before radio and television came upon the scene. I have no doubt that, if Mother Cabrini were living today, she would be turning on the radio or the TV to get her daily news of what was going on in the world. She would have loved the instant communication that exists today--in her day "instant" communication was onl~ the tele-graph and, later, the telephone. On 30 October 1952 Mother Cabrini was posthumously named "The Italian Immigrant of the Century" at a gathering of the American Committee on Italian Migration. Mother Cabrini was singled out because of her "unselfish devotion to humanity" and because "her accomplishments stand as monuments for all to behold and put to shame those people whose bigotry helps raise the cry of intolerance toward the immigrant." If Mother Cabrini.were living today, she would be in her element in regard to the immigrant. In our day there continue to be refugees, political, refugees, immi, grants, and displaced persons; they often make headlines. This has been a century of immigration. In the early 1900s it was the mas-sive immigration from southern and eastern Europe. Today it is immigration 7from Central and South America, Vietnam, China, and the war-torn areas of central Europe. Mother Cabrini's Missionaries of the Sacred Heart of Jesus are in the forefront in helping today's immigrants just as Mother Cabrini was. Maria Francesca Cabrini was bor.n on 15 July 1850 in a small village in Lombardy, Italy. Her parents were pious and devout, and little Franceswas certain she wanted to be a missionary. She was the tenth of eleven children, of whom seven met early deaths. Review for Religqous Only Magdalena (who was retarded), Rosa, Giuseppe, and herself lived to adulthood. As a child Frances used to launch paper boats filled with vio-lets into a stream nearby, pretending the violets were missionar-ies going to foreign lands, especially China. As a teenager Frances applied to two religious communities for admission, but each refused her because of her frail health, a problem she bore throughout life. In 1870 she lost both of her parents; she was twenty. Her sister Rosa had become a public school teacher, and Frances followed her in this. When she was twenty-four years old, her pas-tor and bishop, valuing her desire to serve, asked her to lend a hand for a few weeks at a poorly run orphanage. These "few weeks" that lasted six years were a time of great suffering and prepared Frances for the work she would eventual.ly do. The local bishop offered her his backing: "You always wanted to be a missionary. I know of no such order of women. Why not found one your- ~ self?" So in 1880 she and seven young women con-secrated themselves to God and took religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.~They called themselves Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, They took over an abandoned Franciscan monastery in the town of Codogno, not far from where Frances was born. Maria Francesca Cabrini now became Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini, ready to conquer the world for Christ. During the next few years, Mother Cabrini expanded her order in Italy, opening many houses and accepting new vocations. But she was still intent on doing missionary work. In 1887 she met Pope Leo XIII, who, even though he was aware of her desire to do missionary work in China,-persuaded her to go to America to assist the many Italian immigrants there who were in dire need. He said to her: "Not to the Orient, Cabrini, but to the West. Your China is the United States." At the time of her death in Chicago in 1917 at the age of sixty-seven, Mother Cabrini had founded sixty-seven hospitals, orphanages, and schools in .the United States, South and Central America,. and Europe. After her death other foundations were made in Africa, Asia, and Australia. .From an early age, after a frightening experience of near If Mother Cabrini were living today, she would be in her element in regard to the immigrant. November-Deconber 1996 Goldman ¯ Frances Cabrini drowning, Frances had a real fear of water. Yet, even with this fear, she in her missionary travels crossed the Atlantic Ocean some twenty-three tiines, going to the United States and South and Central America. The only times she really had for "rest" were during these ocean voyages. Most of her correspondence was done at these times, including long letters about her travels written to her sisters back in Italy. Mother Cabrini's favorite sub-ject when she taught school was geography, and this is very much reflected in the travel letters she wrote. She certainly researched and read beforehand about the places where she was going to start a mission. It was in reading the book of her Travels that I came across the real Mother Cabrini, and I would like to quote some passages from these letters to show how human and like us she really was. Did Mother Cabrini know and speak English? The answer to that is yes. During her second voyage to New York in 1890, she wrote: "The sisters tell him [a friendly man on the boat] in English what he has not understood from me. He is very intelligent, and from the expression on my face he understands what I intend to say. He asks me to speak English as well as I can, and he helps me with some French words, saying he can understand. Sister Bernardina is going to make a novena for me to obtain the grace to speak English, and assures me she will obtain it. What do you think of it? 1 fear the day of judgment will arrive before 1 learn English." During the voyage from Genoa to New York in 1894, Mother Cabrini related the following: "Yesterday a waiter told me how sorry he was that he could not speak Italian so that he might ren-der the sisters better service. He wants me to act as interpreter, but my knowledge of English is limited, barely enough to prevent me from losing my way or dying of hunger." Sister Mary Louise Sullivan, however, in her Mother Cabrini: Italian Immigrant of the Century (1992), says: "Mother Cabrini read American newspapers daily when she was present in her houses in the United States. The Chicago Tribune was on her desk each day. She knew what you were talking about when you spoke to her in English and would sometimes reply gently in English when you tried to address her in halting Italian. She could become quite angry and would raise her voice when upbraiding a sister in her native Italian." Some of the humorous incidents she related were, in con-junction with the roughness of the ocean during some of her voy- Review for Religious ages. On her second voyage to New York in 1890, she wrote: "Poor sisters! At every movement of the boat they think we are in a great storm. Sister Eletta would like to have the boat stopped, at least during meals. I told the steward this just to make him laugh. He is so kind." On another occasion she said, "During this tempest not one of the sisters was frightened; all remained quietly in bed, ready to perish quietly, but under the bedclothes." On the voyage from New York to Le Havre in 1899, she wrote: "What a terrible night we have passed! The steamer seemed to jump and fly out of the water. At other times we thought it would capsize . At about 9 a.m. the rocking began again. I was still in bed and could not get up, and the stew-ardess asked if we wanted some break-fast. I told her to bring us some coffee. It was the first time I had ever had anything brought to my bed, and the poor coffee reached me at a very bad moment. No sooner had it been poured out than cup and coffee pot, by a sudden jerk of the steamer, were spilled over my bed. I was forced to get up whether I liked it or not." On her trip to New York in 1890, Mother Cabrini had a com-mon experience for one who is fair-skinned. (Mother Cabrini was very fair and had blond hair--remember she came from northern Italy.) She wrote: "Meantime the heat is like summer. For three days I looked like Bacchus. My forehead is very red, even pur-ple, and this redness is spreading all over my face. At first I thought it was erysipelas. I did not like the prospect, for I should have had to retire from the open, and fresh air is life to me. Happily, however, the doctor said the redness was the effect of the air and of the water which was spraying on my face . Today the skin has begun to peel off my forehead and nose. I am chang-ing like a serpent." Mother Cabrini mentioned language difficulties more than once. In 1898, going from Liverpool to New York, she wrote up this anecdote about Sister Frances, who knew English but not much Italian: "The other day, for instance, she wanted to say cauliflower in Italian, which is cavolf!ore, but her rendering made "I always close the porthole before I go to bed, as I would rather put up with the heat than receive a surprise visit from a fish." November-December 1996 Goldman ¯ Frances Cabrini it 'fiore-cavalli,' which is 'horses-flowers.' By expressing herself in this roundabout way, she was doubly charitable, for 'she gave me the opportunity of a good hearty laugh." That same year Mother Cabrini recounted her experience with the London underground: "We entered a small station. Having gotten our tickets, we stood with many others in what appeared to us a room, waiting to proceed, when suddenly we felt ourselves descending into the earth. Then there was a stop, and we found ourselves in a large subway, lighted by electricity. People began to run as if they were running for their lives, and without saying a word. So we too followed and took our places in the train, or rather trains, for there was a line of carriages which could not be counted in the light, for it was like night so deep down. We had hardly gotten into our compartment'when the train moved off, and, as quick as lightning, we found ourselves in the center of the city, having gone all the way underground. At the station we entered a lift, though owing to its large size it did not seem to be a lift. Then we rose and came out into the daylight." Mother Cabrini related the following on her 1900 voyage from Genoa to Buenos Aires: "At dawn this morning we arrived at M~laga . I thought I would like to make a little visit to the town, and, as everyone was buying the raisins of Mfilaga to take to Buenos Aires, I also secured a box as a memento of the place. But I had better luck than the others, who went into smart-look-ing shops to get theirs, where they had to pay more for the box than for the raisins. I, however, fixed my eye on a donkey coming down a small mountain, loaded with boxes of the celebrated grapes of that mountain. In the evening everybody returned with their beautiful and elegant boxes, and I with my rustic box . At table someone offered us a bottle of M~ilaga wine, find I, wishing to reciprocate, sent to the cabin to get one of the botdes that Mother Augustine had placed there. They asked if it was Mfilaga, 'Yes,' I replied, 'this is Mfilaga.' They enjoyed the joke, drank the.wine, and were surprised at its exquisite taste. They could scarcely believe that such good wine came from Piedmont." On this same 1900 voyage, Mother Cabrini wrote about her cabin: "It is very nicely situated in that part of the steamer where the rocking is little felt, and there is a porthole to the west which I can open at will. I have to keepit closed from 4 a.m. to 7 a.m., as the sailors clean the ship during these hours and throw water about heedlessly. The water often enters through the portholes Review for Religious and causes much inconvenience to those who are not expecting it. I always close the porthole before I go to bed, as I would rather put up with the heat than receive a surprise visit from a fish." All that has been said above will give you some idea of the modernness, and the humor, of Mother Cabrini. Perhaps we can visualize her today walking the corridors of the various institutions she founded, giving comfort and solace to those she meets. Or we can see her walking the streets of New York, Chicago, New Orleans, and all the other cities in both the United States and Central and South America where she founded missions, visiting the homes of Italian immigrants and asking about their lives and their children, assisting them in all the ways that were at her disposal. She did all these things in her life, but we might ask ourselves what made Mother Cabrini tick. I would say the love of God and serving him in his people was the driving force behind all Mother .Cabrini did. She literally left everything in order to find God more perfectly and to serve human beings.God gave her the graces and she generously corresponded. From her earliest days she had this "vision" of mis-sion, and she sacrificed all in order to carry it out. This involved constant interior self-denial, not the bodily mortifications of some of the saints, but a continual going against self in order to conform more perfectly to the will of God as she saw it in her regard and for the institute she founded. It was her contemplation, her communing with God, that gave her the energy to do all she did for others. But most of all she was a woman of faith. She had a great devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and firmly believed that he did everything--she was just an instrument. The following passage in the Constitutions of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus expresses very well what made Mother Cabrini tick: "Mother Cabrini lived her experience of church with missionary fervor which captured her from the first Frances Cabrini was moved to action by the spirit of the Gospels, the word of the church expressed by the Holy Father, the cry of the suffering, the misery of the poor, ~ the tragedy of the abandoned. November-Decevnber 1996 Goldman ¯ Frances Cabrini moment she knowingly gave herself to God. It became the moti-vating force of her life. Strengthened by the Lord, nothing hin-dered her--not even the boldest undertakings--as long as it was justified by the greater glory of God and by her commitment to bring Christ to the world. Frances Cabrini was moved to action by the spirit of the Gospels, the word of the church expressed by the Holy Father, the cry of the suffering, the misery of the poor, the tragedy of the abandoned. Her courage and zeal, rising as they did from her loving communion with the Heart of Christ, impelled her to make her own St. Paul's motto: 'I can do all things in him who strengthens me.'" In proclaiming someone a saint at the conclusion of the care-ful process of canonization, the church tells the faithful that this person is worthy of imitation. The saints are our heroes, certainly more worthy of imitation than film or rock stars. In this brief essay I hope in some way I have shown you the humanness and modernness of Mother Cabrini. I hope, too, thatI have dispelled the notion that saints inhabit such a rarefied realm that they have no relevance for us. Mother Cabrini is very human and very approachable. She lived a life very similar to ours, in our century. She coped with many of the frustrations that we do, but with bet-ter motives, a better =attitude. We too can become saints, but it will take a lot of faith and a lot of love, not only of ourselves but of our neighbor. Knowing Mother Cabrini, we can ask her to help us attain this goal. By praying for her to assist us, we are asking a woman of our own times, a woman who understands what it is like to live in today's world. Icons i hear icons weep in our city their kingly gift of myrrh trickles down making holy faces glisten-glisten into sorrowing sorrowing the sorrow we refuse to bear Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious M. BASIL PENNINGTON The Cistercian Martyrs of Algeria, 1996 )n 26 May 1996, from one end of France to the other, all across the land the bells tolled. It was a rather somber note for the glorious feast of Pentecost, Thousands stood in silence around the Eiffel Tower. It was a moment of remembrance, of pain, of joy, of awe. And yet in some ways it was strange that this should be tak-ing place. Since the early days of 1992, after an unpopular gov-ernment canceled an election it was slated to lose, blood had flowed freely in Mgeria. It was estimated that as many as fifty thousand had died in the guerrilla warfare, including at least a hundred citizens of other nations, some forty of them from France alone. Eleven priests and religious had been among those slain. But now, with the kidnapping and subsequent horrifying slaugh-ter of seven Trappist monks of Our Lady of Atlas, suddenly France and the world stopped to take note. Why? Because this was not just another moment in ongoing bloody events. It was a moment of exquisite love: "Greater 10ve than this no one has, than that one lay down one's life for one's friends."' These seven were, as the Trappist abbot general expressed it, "martyrs of love." Consciously, deliberately, these men remained among a chosen people to give an unfaltering witness of love, knowing full well what would be the probable outcome of their witness. M. Basil Pennington OCSO, a contributor to our pages since 1972, writes from St. Joseph's Abbey; 167 Spencer Road; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. November-December 1996 Pennington ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs Who Were These Seven? The seven monks of Our Lady of Arias who gave their lives in a witness of love were, in fact, quite typical of today's Cistercians. They came from varied backgrounds, mostly the middle class, from different parts of France. Most of them began their monas-tic journey a bit later in life, after having served God's people in other ways. They entered three different French monasteries, but each in some way heard the call to go live a witness of love among the Muslims. In response to that call, they came together at Our Lady of Atlas Monastery, Tibhirine, and formed a "school of char-ity" under the tutelage of Father Christian de Chergd, the prior. All who knew the small community noted how closely these men were bonded in a true friendship. We are not surprised, then, when we learn that, as a student at the Carmelite seminary of Paris, Father Christian wrote his thesis on Christian friendship, a friendship that stands out by reason of its delicacy and its spir-itnal depth. Father Christian, .like others of the seven, first came to know Algeria and, its people during his military service. For twenty-seven months he was stationed there with significant administra-five responsibilities in service of the local population. He returned later as a monk to be another kind of presence, to give another kind of witness. After his ordination as priest, Father Christian had served for a time as chaplain at the great Basilica of the Sacred Heart on Montmartre, but his own heart sought something more. This he pursued at the ancient Cistercian Abbey of Aiguebelle in the foothills of the Alps in southeastern France and then, after some preparation with the White Fathers at Rome, with his Trappist brothers at Tibhirine. Christian was fifty-nine when he found the fullness of love he had always sought and laid down his life for his friends. Brother Luc Dochier, at eighty-two, was the senior of the " community. He was a medical doctor and brought this valuable skill not only to the community but also to people all around. The monastery's dispensary, which was tied in with the health department of the region, was the best for a hundred kilometers around. For all his learning--and he remained ever an avid reader ready to share with the brothers what he read--he was at heart a very simple man. The love of God was central, and love of neigh-bor consumed his working hours as he ministered to all who came. Father Cdlestin Ringeard, twenty years Luc's junior, was Review for Religious Brother's right-hand man. He was a man of energy and color. As a priest of the diocese of Nantes, his ministry had been in the streets; his flock, the alcoholics, the prostitutes, the gays. Like Father Christian, he had seen service in Algeria. In the medical corps he cared for the "enemy" as well as his own. With Brother Luc he cared for them again. Father C~lestin had entered the Abbey of Our Lady of Bellefontaine, in Maine-et-Loire, not far south of Paris. Bellefontaine is the motherhouse of Spencer. It was from there that in March 1984 he set out for Algeria with two others, Brother Michel Fleury and Father Bruno Lemarchand. Brother Michel was from a peas-ant family in Loire-Atlantique. He first heard the call to serve Christ in the poorest of the poor. He joined the Fr~res du Prado, who saw their life as living a "modern Trappist life in the midst of the poor." But soon enough Brother felt drawn to the fullness of the traditional Trappist life. When he joined the brothers at Our Lady of Atlas, he was given the task of com-munity cook. Michel was a simple man, a gentle man, yet very discrete. Curiously, when the abductors took the monks off, Brother managed to carry with him his monastic cowl and leave it along the route, giving the pursuers the sole indication of the direction in which the monks had been taken. Father Bruno, in a sense, no longer belonged to the commu-nity of Our Lady of Atlas. In 1990 he had been sent with three others to start a new little community of witness in Morocco near Fez. He had returned to Atlas a few days before the incursion of the guerrillas in order to take part in the election of a prior. He had brought with him to monastic life a rich background:. He had been a professor and then the head of the College of St. Charles of Thouars. His first experience of Algeria had come early in life when his father was assigned there as an army officer. Two of the martyrs came from the ancient Cistercian monastery hidden high in the French Alps, Notre Dame de Tamie. Born in the region, Brother Paul Favre-Miville was the son of a The monastery's dispensary, which was tied in with the health department of the region, was the best for a hundred kilometers around. November-December 1996 Pennin~ton ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs Savoyard blacksmith. It took him a long time to find his way to the monastery, but he came with skills that enabled him, when he got to Our Lady of Atlas, to set up a good irrigation system that served monk and neighbor alike in the cooperative gardens. His confrere from Tamie, Father Christophe Lebreton, at forty-five, was the youngest of the community. Coming from a family of twelve children--he was the seventh--he seemed to come naturally to monastic life. He was of a poetic nature, very much the lover, who expressed himself well in words, both in his journal and in poems. A mixed group, indeed, like that found in any Cistercian monastery, drawn together by a vision, a transcendent vision cen-tered on a particular, in this case, being a presence of Christ among a people that doe~ not yet understand who this incarnate God of love is. The Background Story The story actually begins over sixty years ago when the monks of Aiguebelle conceived the idea of implanting among the Muslims of Algeria a small community of monks who could be the praying heart of the Christian community in that country and also witness to Christ's love by their own lives of love. They found a site about forty-five miles south of the nation's capital, Algiers, near the city of M~d~a (Lemdiyya) at a place called Tibhirine. Although the community was fully committed to the traditional Cistercian con-templative life, along with many other third-world communities it extended monastic hospitality to providing some medical care for those who came to the monastery door. And, continuing the earliest Cistercian tradition, the brothers who worked the farm and gardens shared their expertise with their less fortunate neigh-bors, enhancing the human condition of these very poor people. As there was no possibility of local vocations, recruits had to be constantly sought in the form of volunteers from the Trappist monasteries of France. Thus the community enjoyed the enrich-ing presence of monks from a number of abbeys. In general, life was quite peaceful in the little monastery, though disturbed at times by the recurring wars. The latest period of disturbance began in December 1991, when the government suddenly canceled elections in which it seemed the fundamentalist Islamic party, the Islamic Salvation Review for Religious Front (FIS), would win control. The FIS formed a guerrilla force and was promptly outlawed. An even more radical group then formed in the mountains, the Armed Islamic Group (GIA). It was this group that warned all foreigners to leave the country, and it began to indulge in periodic acts of terrorism. As the community of Atlas gathered to discuss what they should do in the face of this new warning and threat, they realized they were not the first Cistercian community to face such a chal-lenge. This was the case with the com-munities of Huambo and Bela Vista in Angola, Butende in Uganda, and Marija Zvijezda in Bosnia. For the monks of Atlas, the question became more acute when an armed band of the GIA, the "brothers from the mountain" as Father Christian called them, visited the monastery on Christmas eve in 1993. The guerrillas wanted to oblige the monks to collaborate with them through medical aid, economic support, and logistical help. In response the prefect of M4d~a offered the monks armed pro-tection and the possibility of moving from the monastery to a protected area. Through community discussions and votes during the following days, the monks decided to remain at Atlas, to decline armed protection so as to remain a sign of peace, and to reject any form of collaboration with the armed group except medical aid given only in the monastery dispensary. Father Christian sought to express the monks' position in a letter to the chief of the GIA, Sayah Attiya: Brother, allow me to address you like this, as man to man, believer to believer. In the pre~ent conflict in which our country is living, it seems to us impossible to take sides. The fact that we are foreigners forbids it. Our state as monks (ruhbfn) binds us to God's choice for us, which is prayer and the simple life, manual work, hospitality, and sharing with everyone, especially with the poor . These reasons for our life are a free choice for each one of us. They bind us until death. I do not think that it is God's will that this death should come to us through you . If one day the Algerians judge that we are unwelcome, we will respect their desire to see us leave. With very great regret I know that we will continue to love them all, as a whole, and that includes you. The community enjoyed the enriching presence of monks from a number of abbeys. Novonber-Deconber 1996 Penning'ton ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs When and how will this message reach you? It does not matter! I needed to write it to you today. Forgive me for having written in my mother tongue. You understand me. And may the only One of all life lead us! Amin. As the danger increased, in June 1994 the apostolic nuncio invited the monks to come and live at the nunciature. The broth-ers did not judge the time had come yet to abandon their monastery. When, on 23 October 1994, two Spanish Augustinian nuns were murdered at the entrance of the parish church, Father Christian wrote to the abbot general: The'communities of men seem to be standing by their option to remain. This is clear so far for the Jesuits, the Little Brothers of Jesus, all the White Fathers. It is also clear for us. At Tibhirine as elsewhere this option has its risks. That is obvious. Each one has told me that he wants to take them, in a journey of faith into the future and in sharing the present with neighbors who have always been very close friends of ours._The grace of this gift iis given to us from day to day, very simply. At the end of September we had another nocturnal "visit." This time the "brothers of the mountain" wanted to use our telephone. We pretended to listen in, then emphasized the contradiction between our way of life and any kind of complicity with what could harm the life of another. They gave us assurances, but the threat was there, supported by arms. (13 November 1994) On 16 December, after more cflreful and prayerful discussion, the brothers again took a vote to confirm their decisions. At this time the archbishop of Algiers, Henri Teissier, thanked them for taking the risk of prolonging their presence and their witness, telling them how significant was their presence of prayer and daily work in Tibhirine for the whole Christian community of Algeria. He thanked them for their fidelity and courage. The Testament of Father Christian It was during the previous Advent of 1993 that Father Christian had composed his "Testament," to be opened only after his death. This was done on 23 May 1996 when his and his bro,thers' passing was announced. There is no doubt but that this testament will be cherished as one of the great spiritual classics of the 20th century-- though surely that is not what this humble and transparent monk would ever have intended. Let us share it,with you in full: Review for Religious When an A-DIEU is envisaged. If it should happen one day--and it could be today--that I become a victim of the terrorism which now seems to encompass all the foreigners living in Algeria, I would like my community, my church, my family, ¯ to remember that my life was given to God and to this country; ¯ to accept that the One Master of all life was not a stranger to this brutal departure; ¯ to pray for me--for how should I be found worthy of such an offering? ¯ to be able to associate this death with so many other equally violent ones that have been allowed to fall into the indifference of anonymity. My life has no more value than any other. Nor any less value. In any .case, it has not the innocence of childhood. I have lived long enough to know that I am an accom-plice in the evil which seems, alas, to prevail in the world, and even in that evil which would strike me blindly. I should like, when the time comes, to have enough lucidity to beg forgiveness of God and of my brothers and sisters in the human family, and at the same time to forgive with all my heart the one who would strike me down. , I could not desire such a death~ It seems to me impor-tant to state this. I don't see, in fact, how I could rejoice if the people I love were indiscriminately accused of my murder. It would be too high a price to pay for what will be called, perhaps, the "grace of martyrdom" to owe this to an Algerian, whoever he may be, especially if he says he is acting in fidelity to what he believes to be Islam. I know the contempt in wtiich the Algerians as a whoie can be held. I know, too, the caricatures of Islam which ,encourage a certain Islamism. It is too easy to give oneself a good conscience in iden-tifying this religious way with the fundamentalist ideology of its extremists. " For me, Algeria and Islam are something different: they are body and soul. I have proclaimed it enough, I think, seeing and know-ing what I have received from them, finding here so often that direct line bringing the gospel that I learned at my mother's knee, my very first church; finding it precisely in Algeria, and already in the reverence of believing Muslims. My death, obviously, will appear to justify those who Novevnber-Deconber 1996 Pennington ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs hastily judged me naive or idealistic: "Let him tell us now what he thinks of them!" But these .must know that at last my most insistent curiosity will be satisfied. For this is what I shall be able to do, if God wills: immerse my gaze in that of the Father to contemplate with him his children of Islam as he sees them, all shining with the glory of Christ, fruit of his Passion, filled with the gift of the Spirit, whose secret joy will always be to establish communion and to refashion the likeness in playing with the differences. For this life lost, totally mine and totally theirs, I thank God, who seems to have wished it entirely for the sake of that joy in and in spite of everything. In this thank-you where, once and for all, all is said about my life, I certainly include you, friends of yesterday and today, and you, 0 my friends of this place, at the side of my mother and my father, of my sisters and my brothers and their families--the hundredfold given as he had promised! And you, too, my last-minute friend, who would not have known what you were doing; yes, for you too I say this thank-you and this a-dieu--to commend you to the God in whose face I see yours. And may he grant to us to find each other, happy thieves, in Paradise, if it please.God, the Father of us both. Amen.t Inshallah.t Algiers, 1 December 1993 Tobhirine, 1.January 1994 Christian Has ever an executioner been addressed so lovingly: "my last-minute friend . , . I see your face in the face of God. may we find each other in Paradise"? The "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do" of the Master is echoed with a fullness rarely heard in the long annals of discipleship. Greater love than this no one has. The Time Approaches Two more nuns were shot in Algeria on 3 September 1995. Ten missionaries had now been slain. After the funeral Father Christian wrote a letter to the abbot general in Rome: The celebration had a beautiful atmosphere of serenity and offering. It brought together a very small church, whose Review for Religious remaining members are perfectly conscious that the logic of their presen(+ must include henceforth the possibility of a violent death. It is for many a new and radical plunge, as it were, into the very charism of their congregation., and also a return to the source of the first call. For all that, all of us clearly desire that none of these Algerians, to whom our consecration binds us in the name of the love which God has for them, ever wound this love by killing any of us, any of our brethren. Lord, disarm me and disarm them. A few months later Father Christopher wrote these prophetic lines at the end of a poem: Finally, my friends, let's get it straight: I belong to him and follow his steps to the fullest truth of my Easter. On the night of 26-27 March 1996, Mohammed, the layman who helped the monks, was roused from his sleep--he lived with his family in a cottage at the gate of the monastery--by the "brothers of the mountain." They said they came for Brother Luc, the doctor, to take him to care for some of their men who were wounded. They crashed through into the monastery. When they demanded that Brother Luc come with them, Father Christian refused to allow it in view of Brother's age and serious asthmatic condition. With this the armed band rounded up all the monks they could find. Fortunately two were sleeping in another building and escaped capture, as did the priests and sis-ters in the guesthouse. The seven monks were carried off into the night and nothing further was heard of them until a London Arabic newspaper, A1 Hayat, published extracts from a communication of the GIA dated 18 April. It said that the emir did not recognize the aman, the protection that his predecessor accorded the monks; that it was illicit because the monks "have not ceased to invite Muslims to be evangelized, to display their slogans and symbols, and to com-memorate their feasts with solemnity." He went on, "Monks who live among the working classes can be legitimately killed . They live with people and draw them away from the divine path, urging them to be evangelized. It is also licit to apply to them what applies to lifelong unbelievers when they are prisoners of war: murder, slavery, or exchange for Muslim prisoners." Only later did the French government acknowledge that on 20 November-December 1996 Pennington ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs April the GIA had made a tape on which they required the seven monks to speak as proof that they were still alive. This tape was delivered to the government a week later. There were rumors of secret negotiations. But the monks would not have wanted to win their freedom at the cost of the lives of others, which would cer-tainly have been the case if the captured GIA terrorists were released to wreak more violence. The Martyrdom Although there had been some ambiguous statements from the French government in this regard, President Chirac stated formally on 20 May that there would be no negotiations with the terrorists regarding an "exchange of prisoners." This seems to have settled the mfitter. On 23 May, Radio Medi 1 in Tangiers read extracts from a GIA communiqud announcing that the seven monks had been beheaded on 21 May. Some doubt as to the verac-ity of this report lingered. But the French government, now admitting it had received the earlier secret communication from the GIA, confirmed the authenticity of the radio report. On Thursday evening, 23 May, in a powerfully symbolic act watched by millions on television, Cardinal Lustiger of Paris extinguished the seven candles which, in the presence of Christian, Muslim, and Jewish leaders, he had lit seven weeks earlier as a prayer and a hope for the release of the seven monks. Muslim-Christian Relations The se'~en monks of Our Lady of Atlas had dedicated their monastic lives to furthering the growth of healthy and life-giving relations between Muslims and Christians, who shared faith in and worship of the God of our common father, Abraham. At first impulse one might say this sacrilegious butchery had decimated their life's mission. But in fact, according to the paradoxical logic of an all-loving God, it gave it a whole new impetus. Rabah Kebir, the leader of the Islamic Salvation Front, who had earlier demanded of the GIA the release of the seven monks, now spoke out most forcefully: "I strongly condemn this criminal act, which runs absolutely contrary to the principles of Islam." Kahdidja Khalil of the High Council of French Muslims went further: "We strongly condemn this savage and barbaric act. It is Review for Religious forbidden in the holy Koran to touch 'all servants of God,' and that means priests and rabbis as well." The High Council had issued a fatwa, a solemn religious decree, declaring the monks' abduction illegal and calling for a day of fasting to pray for their release. In his address on Pentecost to the faithful in the piazza of St. Peter's, Pope John Paul II said: "Despite our deep sorrow, we thank God for the witness of love given by these religious. Their fidelity and constancy give honor to the church and surely will be seeds of reconciliation and peace for the Algerian people, with whom they were in solidarity." Also on Pentecost Sunday, in a symbolically powerful gesture once again, Cardinal Lustiger relit the seven candles before the high altar of Notre Dame Cathedral as a sign of reconciliation, declaring that the monks had not died in vain, but rather "for life, for love, and for reconciliation." The Funeral The fullest confirmation of the sacrifice of the seven Trappist brothers came on 30 May, only a few hours before the abbot gen-eral's arrival in Algeria for the celebration in honor of the martyrs. That morning the mutilated remains of the seven monks were found in a heap beside the road not far from Mtdta. They had evi-dently been interred for a time at some other location. The remains were placed in very simple wooden coffins and taken to the military hospital in Algiers. There the abbot general had the sorrowful task of identifying the remains. On the same day as the remains were found, Cardinal L~on Etienne Duval, the father of the church in Algeria and a great friend and supporter of the monks, completed his life's journey at the age of ninety-two. His funeral Mass on 2 June would be one with the Mass in the Cathedral of Our Lady of Africa for his seven sons and brothers. The Holy Father sent Cardinal Francis Arinze to represent him and preside. The two surviving monks of Our Lady of Atlas, Fathers Jean-Pierre and Amedeus, stood at the altar with him, as did the archbishop of Algiers and the Trappist abbot general and procurator general. In the sanctuary were the cardinal archbishop of Paris, Jean-Marie Lustiger, three other French bish-ops, and five ministers of the Algerian government. Seven of Father Christopher's brothers and sisters were present. November-Dece~nber 1996 Pennin~ton ¯ Tbe Cistercian Martyrs Cardinal Arinze in his funeral oration amplified the words the Holy Father had used on Pentecost: "The monks suffered unheard of violence . They gave all men and women an exam-ple of total sacrifice in honor of God and religion . The monks of M6d6a established friendly relations with their Muslim neigh-bors. They offered their services, especially in the field of medicine . They also contributed to the development of spir-itual dialogue and in this way gave evidence that sincere Muslims and Christians are able to gather together and mutually enrich each other also in the sphere of the spirit." Two days later, on Tuesday, 4 June, a small party was trans-ported by helicopter to M6d6a and on to the now deserted monastery at Tibhirine under heavy military escort. The remains of the brothers had been brought there the day before. The Muslim villagers, who loved the monks and had so often benefited from their ministrations, had dug the seven graves in the ceme-tery by the monastic church. The funeral service within the church was simple and brief, that at the graveside even more so. No news media or outsiders had been allowed to come. The brothers were laid to rest with those of their community who had gone before. If these Trappist brothers have been singularly blessed in receiving the grace of martyrdom, in their heroic victory are not we all also singularly blessed? Their witness of steadfast faith and a love that does not flinch in the face of death not only inspires us, but wins for us the grace to follow their example, each in our own calling. We have all been baptized into the death of Christ. We live that death so that in death we may enter into his risen life, We can rejoice in the cruel death of these men because we know and believe they h~ve truly entered into that life, the life for which they longed with all their being. Review for Religious CATHY ARATA Death Questions and Life Questions Nila, short for Petronila, was a woman approaching fifty years of age when I first saw her, but to look at her one would have guessed that she was in her mid-sixties. There was little pleasure in her life, no leisure, lots of heartache, and plenty of hard work. It was now the end of September, and she had been suffering from a severe case of hepati-tis. Her doctor had told her many times that what she needed most was rest, but the doctor had no idea of the circumstances in which she lived and moved and had her being. Nila and her husband, daughter, and son lived in a small isolated village with fifteen other families. The vil-lage has no water and no electricity and is a steep, ardu-ous climb from anywhere else. All the houses are adobe, with tin roofs and earthen floors. There is no school, no health clinic, no store of any kind. To get her daily supply of water, Nila had to walk downhill for about fifteen minutes and then t.rudge uphill with a five-gallon jug of water on her head. She usually did this three times a day. When the housekeeping chores were done, she went to the stream to do the family wash. On the days that she needed firewood, it was another long walk to gather the wood and then return home carrying up to fifty pounds of it on her head. I had seen Nila a few weeks before. Her yellow eyes Cathy Arata SSND worked in El Salvador for seven years. Her present address is 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. November-December 1996 life and death Arata ¯ Death Questions and L~e (~uestions gave ,no doubt that she did indeed have hepatitis. But that was back in July, and now we were entering October. It was about 7:30 in the evening, and I had just driven into the village where I live. As I was getting out of the car, someone told me that Nila had just been carried down the mountain in a hammock and that she was seriously ill. At first I did not pay much attention. It had been a long day and I was tired. I wanted only to get into my lit-tle house, close the door, and not be bothered. I was also impa-tient at the expectation that I would go and visit her. Well, I did go and was taken off guard by what I saw when I arrived at the place where they had taken. Nila. It was a small one-room adobe house, dark inside with a candle or two burning. The family, too poor to have closets, had boxes of clothing piled on tables along the wall. There were three simple wood-frame beds; on each one sat three or four children. Nila was in the mid-dle of the floor on a straw mat. She was, I guess you could say, semiconscious, writhing in pain. The small house was crowded with neighbors who had come to gawk at her. Close to where she lay, there were ten or twelve chickefis scratching on the floor for a morsel to eat. I was angry and frustrated with all the people who were stand-ing around "doing nothing," probably because of my own com-pulsive need to do something. So, when Nila's brother asked me if I could drive her to the clinic about three miles away, I readily agreed to do so. I went for the car, and the men began to lift Nila into the hammock in order to carry her to a spot where I would be able to meet them with the car. It was about 8:30 p.m. and the clinic was closed. In E1 Salvador all doctors and teachers have to give one year of com-munity service after their schooling. The doctor of this little vil-lage was a government doctor and was not happy to see us when we went to her home to tell her we had a patient who needed help. She was undoubtedly as tired as I, and she angrily said, "Why didn't you come during hours?" But she relented. Nila's brother and her older daughter literally dragged her from the car to the clinic because, although she was still alive, she was dead weight. Recognizing immediately that she needed a hospital, the doctor was harsh and cold and scolded us for not coming sooner. Nila died the next day in the hospital in Ilobasco, a small city about an hour and a half away. Her older son, a guerrilla.during the war and now a member of the newly formed National Police, Review for Relig4otts was with her. He borrowed money to buy the simple, crude wooden box in which to carry her back to the village. The box, with the remains of Nila, was placed on the back of an old pickup truck and driven over a dirt road much in need of repair. The news of Nila's death jolted me because I was taken off guard, not only by her death, but also by my own coldness and lack of compassion. That evening, when I arrived at the house where the wake was to be held, most of the community had already gathered, and, as was the custom, the men were outside playing cards and drinking homemade liquor while the women and children were inside praying and singing devotional hymns. The coffin was in the middle of the floor, in the exact spot where I had found Nila two nights earlier. It had survived the journey from Ilobasco and was now surrounded by flowers of many kinds which the neighbors had brought from their gardens. Most of them were placed in "vases" of Nestl~ instant-milk cans. A candle burned at each corner of the coffin, which was so constructed that a small piece of glass made Nila's face visible. But, because the house was so hot, steam had formed on the inside of the glass, and her face could not be seen clearly. The chickens were scratching around, but no one seemed to notice. After all, it is not unusual to have chickens roaming through the house. Two pigs came in and were shooed away. As we prayed the rosary, my mind flashed to Jefferson City, Missouri, where at the same moment Mary Margaret Johanning, our former SSND international leader, lay dying. I could not help comparing the way Nila died and the way Mary Margaret was dying. Both women were too young to die, and both believed fervently in an all-loving God. Perhaps that is all they had in common. It seemed obvious that, as Mary Margaret died, her God was present to her in the doctors and nurses who tried to lengthen her life, using all the newest technology that medicine has to offer. God was present to her too in the hundreds of cards and notes she received from her sisters around the world. Above all, The news of Nila's death jolted me because I was taken off guard, not only by her death, but also by my own coldness and lack of compassion. November-December 1996 Arata ¯ Death Questions and Life Questions God was present in her devoted family and host of loving friends who accompanied her in her dying. And Nila? Was God present as she writhed on the earthen floor surrounded by chickens looking for a morsel to eat? When her husband arrived at the wake drunk and vomiting, swinging his .machete in the air, was God there too? Was God outside with the men who were drinking and playing cards? It seems as if God treats us all very differently, and for a long time I have been angry with this God of ours. I have been resent-ful and frustrated that God is not the God I think God should be! God should not allow such things as Nila's cruel poverty and harsh dying and death, nor should God allow wars and concen-tration camps and bullets and bombs and mortars that carry atroc-ities beyond human imagining. God should put a moratorium on those things insurance companies call "acts of God," such as earth-quakes, floods, typhoons, and hurricanes. I have been resentful toward myself, too, because I am pow-erless in the face of such evil. My resentment has shown itself in my impatience, my coldness, my frustration at not being able to do what God is not doing: changing unjust structures, wiping out poverty, replacing wars with lasting justice and peace, and con-trolling the forces of nature. The past few months I have been gifted by my community with some sabbatical time: time to step out of a very active min-istry spanning thirty-three years and reflect on the meaning of those years, time to pause long enough to quiet my own com-pulsive need to right the wrong in the world and, in the silence and space, allow God to intimate to me that I was forgetting who I was and that I was assuming the role that was properly God's! Most of my questions, though, remain: Why such evil in the world? Why such a disparity between those who are poor and those who are rich? Why such a disparity of natural resources from country to country? Why th

Issue 44.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1985. ; REVIEW FOR R ELIGIOUS(ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis,-MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR R ELIGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by REVIEW FOR R El.IGlOOS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscdpllon orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS: 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 Jan. / Feb., 1985 Volume 44 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtGIOOS; 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 REvlEw FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious ~,'olume 44, i985 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 . Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.~.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS isavailable from~University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1985 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regularly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Religious Life as Unchanging in a World of Change John E Whealon Archbishop Whealon of Hartford addressed the Fall Meeting of the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis in October, 19.84. He may be addressed at his office: Archdiocese of Hartford; 134 Farmingtoh ~v~nue; Hartford, CT 06105. he theme of your meeting, my dear sisters and brothers, is "Religious Life as Unchanging in a World of Change."Th~ medieval~scholastics taught us that distinctions are necessary for ~good thinking, for good logic. So I make a necessary distinction here between the essentials and the accidentals of the religious life. As a Father of the Second Vatican Council (andotherE are precious few of us left :as active bishops these days), I point,out with sortie authority that the council did call'upon religious to change--or at least to consider.changing --the accidentals ofiheir religious life. The operative text is Paragraph 2 of the council's decree Pe~fectae Caritatis, which lays in effect: "The: appropriate renewal of religious life involves two simultaneous processes: (1)'a continuous return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a given community;, and (2) an adjustment of the community to the .changed conditions of the times." ~ " So the council expected every religious community to fix one eye on the Gospel and on its founder, and the other eye on the modern world, and to update those accidentals which no longer made sense in the modern world. I do think that all communities, nineteen years after that council decree, have done what they were asked to do. The real question is whether some communities have lost some of the essentials as well in their efforts to update. Returning, then, to that basic distinction, I am thinking now of religious life as "Unchanging in E~sentials in a World of Change." 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 I wish to do twothings this afternoon: first, to speak about these essentials; second, to read to you some quasi-private correspondence. What are the essentials for us in our living out of the Christian life? Forgive me, not a religious, for listing her~ some of the items that are essential in my life--I suspect, though, that they are quite essential in your lives as well. At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew gives us the Lord's teaching about the person whose house is built on rock. It is a useful metaphor to describe the person who has certain fundamental convictions which carry through the years. Let the tides and eddies and swirls and winds come, the rock-foundation of these convictions is there, unshaken, unmoved, unaffected by what goes on around. So you and I should be solidly based on the rock of our certain convictions, on the essentials of our lives, so that we are not really shaken by what other people say or do, by the spirit of the age, by the shallow currents of our shallow times. I will now list for you five unchanging elements in this world of change. They have carried me through some years which have been very difficult for any bishop. Perhaps the listing of them will find an echo in your own lives as well. The first essential is God. As the years go on, I "become even more convinced that the incredible design in nature, the intricate and intertwined design of the human body and psyche, and the very continuation in being of this world and of us humanbeings in this world and in.life must be explained by God. How a person can go through, life and not accept a Designer, God, who alone explains life, the world, and the universe, I fail to fathom. The second essential is JeJus Christ, the climax of Revelation. By Revelation I mean that truth from God which we know frrm Scripture and the Spirit-guided Tradition of the Church. From Revelation there are many things God had not ~old us and which we can only wonder about and theorize about in theology. We know so little about heaven and ~hell and purgatory, about what Jesus Christ knew,~ about what the Blessed Mother knew, about how she came to the end of her life, about the Apostles, But we know all that we"need to know to save our souls and to lead a good and fruitfully human life --and whatwe know is summed up in one word, because it is the Word-- Jesus, our Lord. Our life isto be the imitation of that Perfect.Life: Our life is to be our acceptance of the One who is the Way, the Truth, the Life. So, as St. Paul said, life is Christ and death is Christ. In thefirst reading, from Galatians, of today's Mass we have the same lesson: we are baptized into Christ, we live totally in Christ. St. Ignatius of Antioch over eighteen centuriesago described Christ as "our inseparable life." This is what it means to have Jesus as our Lord. For us the ~iimax of God's Revelation is Jesus Christ: in what Jesus was and is, and in, what Jesus has taught us and teaches us. So this is a.second solid essential on which to base a life: Jesus Christ, after God. The third essential for living is prayer, mainly personal prayer, but also Religiou~ Life as Unchanging public or liturgical prayer. One of the standard definitions for prayer is -conversation with God. In my life prayer has not been a. conversation at all with God. My prayer is a poor, one-sided effort to speak to the Almighty and to praise the Almighty. I trust and I believe that God is listening. Prayer is a necessary dimension of living,. I believe, so that a day spent without an attempt at mental prayer, a little move towards contemplation, minutes spent in praise and thanksgiving, would be a ,day somehow lost spiritually. I know that prayer does more good for me than I will ever know, and so prayer is the third foundation for living that I list. A fourth essential is community with others. I am not a religious, but I would have a' very difficult time living alone as an anchorite or a hermit. I need to be with others who think and pray and live as I do, and that is why I live with a community of priests. It seems to me that for much the same reasons the religious life is an element in the Catholic Church that will be present until the Lord comes again. So long as the faith is strong, some will want to live out their Christian lives in a community form of life. Some will be called by God to put themselves under vbw in order to live their lives in Christ more fully, in order to do more for Christ and for his Church. So in .a world of change--and I suspect that the prominence of the electronic, media in our society will make inevitable an atmosphere of continuous change in the: years ahead--religious life will be a constant, an ever-available way of life for those with a vocation. A fifth essential element for any Catholic is the Church itself--the Catholic Church possessed, of a teaching authority or rnagisterium that is a part of the Christ's Church. We are the Church, we People of God. But we are also a Church which has a teaching authority. The Lord Jesus gave a universal shepherd and other shepherds to guide his flock. The Lord Jesus, who taught with authority, told his apostles to use his authority and to teach and baptize all nation's, even to the ends of the earth. One of the dominant characteristics of the Catholic Church is its magisterii~m. We have in the Church an authority to tell us what is right and " wrong, what is true and false, what is to be done and what is not to be done. The test of theomagisterium, and of Our acceptance of it, occurs precisely when we are told to believe something or to do something that we personally would prefer not to believe or not to do. The "obedience of faith," then, calls for some humility. And in a proud and indulgent age, neither the concepts nor the words "obedience" and "magisterium~ are very popular. So, specifically by reason of the magisterium in the Church, the Catholic today should know and hold clearly that racial discrimination is wrong, abortion is wrong, contraception is.morally wrong, liberation theology is in some forms dangerous, and ~o forth. I do not see how a person can live the Catholic life fully without following the magisterium. In saying that, I fully realize that there are distinctions which have to be made about the voice 6 '/ Review for Religious, Jan.-~eb., 1985 expressing: magisterial teachings, the clarity and loudness (so to speak) of that voice;, the.topic taught, and so forth. But my point is that the gentiine ~Catholic is to follow the teaching of pope and bishop, and not turn Somersaults so as to avoid accepting magisterial teaching. It is in the context of this acceptance, of magisterial teaching that I see the various reactions (really only two) to the Holy'Father's letter of April 3; 1983, addressed to the diocesan bishops of the United States. The Holy Father asked the bishops to: give special pastoral.service to religious in their dioceses, with a view to express gratitude for all that religious mean for the Church and also to convey concern over the future of this charism in the Church because of the decline in vocations. The papal letter mad~ reference to the Ten Essential Elements .of Religious Life and to their further explanation in an accompanying document drawn up by the Sacred Congregation for .Religious and Secular Institutes. ,, There.,has been much voiced opposition by some U.S: religious to that document and to the Ten Essential Elements. 1 have heard presentations, that go. into a lengthy exegesis of the document, that anal~,ze the mind,set, the limited world-outlook and limited theology o~ its authors, that criticize the ten points for this or that reason. I can only say to such criticisms that it seems to me to,be improper to attempt to separate the document or the Ten Essential Elements from the Holy Father. In September of last year, in company with~a hundred U.S. bishops, I made the obligatory ad limina visit to Rome and presented a quinquennial report~ on the archdiocese. In talking to me, and to,each of the.other U.S. bishops, the Holy Father asked with concern and worry about.the religioias in our dioceses and about their reaction to :his letter. On the basis of my experience, then, it seems tome that the way to read and interpret this letter is to see that the Lord's Universal Shepherd is'worried about a most.important part of the universal flock, the ireligious in the U,S.A., and wants to tell them what religious life should be: in the past, and now, and in the future. A hypercritical or narrowly analytical reading of that letter will offer, I believe, a wrong interpretation and, in view of the magistegium, not a fully Catholic reaction to it. This question of magisterium is of critical importance today for Catholics seeking to understand more fully the dimensions of their faith. During the past twenty years the underlying question in many news stories relating to Catholics has really been about magisterium. And magisterium is the real question un~derlying the recent discussion regarding two Catholic legislators and their pro-choice stance concerning abortion. I conclude this presentation by summarizing the :several points which we need to hold to as basic for living, as Christians and Catholicsand religious, in an ever-changing world: '1) God; 2) Jesus Christ as Lord; 3) prayer,or our aRempts at prayer; 4) religious community; 5) the magisterium' of~the Catholic Church Religious Life as Unehanging / 7 Come what may in future years, may we hold to these essentials and find strength as. we base our lives, build our house, on them; My second purpose this afternoon is to read to you, for whatever wisdom it holds, my answer to the Holy Father's request for special pastoral service to the Leligious of the archdiocese. A copy of this letter has been. sent to Arch-bishop John Quinn for~reference to the Pontifical Commission which he heads and the committee which he appointed. ~ , My answer was dated August 14, 1984, and reads as ~follows: Most Holy Father: This letter is in response to the request of Your Holiness to the U.S.A. diocesan bishops, asking each to give special pastoral service to the religious in the dioceses. After receiving the letter of Your Holiness, I met with either the provincial or council or community of each of the ten communities of religious with provincial houses in the Archdiocese of Hartford. With each group I discussed the esteem of Your Holiness for these religious, your concern for their future, and religious vocations, and their experience of renewal after the Second Vatican Council as seen in the light of the ten "Essential Elements." ~ I learned that of the ten communities, seven [and here I list,,their names] see the ten essentials as expressing their religious life. Most of these have already had their constitutions approved. Of the ten communities three have experienced renewal in. a different way. In general they have experienced a reduction of centralized and local authority In favor of a more collegial approach, an openness to difference and individual apostolates, a willingness to permit smaller groups to live apart from the larger community, and.a replacement of religious garb with a simple secular dress. In these three.communities, however, a minority of the community has kept the religious garb and traditional customs. These are mainly older members of the community. From these interviews, and from meetings with religious outside the Archdiocese, I conclude: 1. We have today in the U.S.A. two sharply different approaches to religious life. The one approach follows the Ten Essentials. The other approach follows some of the Ten Essentials, but has adopted a noticeably more democratic approach to authority, work, living arrangements and religious garb. 2. These two approaches' are irreconcilable. There is a painful division between the two groups, and a more painful division within a community in which the leadership and most younger members have followed a progressive approach to renewal, while most of the older members have remained conservative.* 3. Some; not all, consei'vative communities are growing. The more progressive communities, our largest communities of women, are Review .for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 showing no growth. 4. Because of these two different approaches to religious life, there is widespread confusion about the identity of religious life. 5. The progressive group,, includes many of our best, brightest, most dedicated religious. Their lifestyle and works of religion are to the credit of their community and Chui'ch. And that they are not growing in numbers is cause for lamentation. 6. The progressive group is concerned that its approach to renewal will be judged as not valid, and they will lose their status as religious in the Church. One answer to this is that they have .already effectively ~ converted the community to the status of a secular institute. The picture is extraordinarily complex. My best thinking is that the Holy See could respond in two possible ways: 1. Following the Gamaliel~principle, do nothing. In fifteen years, a brief time in the life .of the Church, the picture will be much more clear. At the end of the century a decision can be made. 2. Designate the religious following the Ten Essentials, including individuals in progressive communities, as "religious. of strict ob-servance," and designate the others by a different terminology. The conservative in progressive communities should be given special consideration.~ ' ~ My conclusion is that there is in the long run little difference between these two approaches. But, for the purpose of identifying the religious in the. Church' and for encouraging religious vocations, the second approach is probably preferable. With respect and fraternal affection in the Lord. That is the end of my letter tothe Holy Father, and end of my presentation to you. And I am grateful~ for your attention. *In response'to a listener, Archbishop Whealon offered the following clarification: By the terms .progre~ssive and conservative 1 intend nothing other than the more or less conventional way used to describe different extremes in the body p~61itic. I am consciously irying pot to use loaded terms in any way, and so am open to any more successful way of expressing these differences. Future Directions in Ministry Barbara Kraemer, 0 S. E Sister Barbara Kraemer is Vice-President of the School Sisters of St. Francis. This article is based on a presen~tation delivered to the, Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the course of their.Assembly (August 6, 1984). Sister may be addressed at her generalate: 1501 S. Layton Blvd.; Milwaukee, Wl 53215-0006. Our future directions in" ministry are rooted in our history and in our current context. We are members of apostolic communities in the United States. Our spirituality is rooted in our western culture. The experience of growth and renewal these past years has been basically positive for Changes have not been made lightly, nor have they been made without mistakes and difficulties. Renewal is an ongoing process. My community was founded at a time when ~Catholic schools were being established to teach religion and to giv~ people the skills they needed in an irfimigra~society. Over the years, the needs have changed and also our responses ~m ministry. Todaywe must ask: "What is our unique contribution in education?" Today the descendants of~the German immigrants are members of the middle and upper classes. Do we continue to have a mission to them? What is its new focus? Do we have a mission to new immigrants from Southeast Asia, from Latin America and the Caribbean? There are several areas of blatant need in the U.S. today that help to direct out: efforts in ministry. They are the real needs of real people and they must be part of our consideration as we shape our present and future responses. First, Poverty. Not the t:oncept, but thepeople who are poor. How can we keep in touch with the devastating reality of the poor people around us?.How can we keep our hearts open to them? What can we do so that the distribution of wealth and opportunity will be more equal? "~ ,. Second, .Violence. There is a lack of respect for life in our country, and I'm not speaking only of abortion or capital punishment, but also about child and 9 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 spouse abuse, prison conditions, war-making. Are we aware of the violence within us? What steps can we take so that in the future our country and our people stand for a nonviolent world? Third, Inequality of Women. Women in our country receive contradictory messages. Are we convinced that further changes need to be made? What is my or your personal commitment to equality for women? Fourth, Economic Exploitation, There is the philosophy that says we should have more because it's available, that we should sacrifice nothing and enjoy our abundance. And there is the undeniable fact that someone can make a living by exploitation, later beginning a respectable enterprise, made more respectable by donations. People are happy to accept the money because they need it. Playboy Enterprises now has a charitable foundation. Do we scrutinize the source of donations we accept? The response we make to these and other needs is important not only in terms of the what but also the how. The value of our future contributions in ministry depends as much on how we live out our beliefs and values, as it does on the work itself. Therefore, I would like to emphasize three characteristics of ministry that are extremely important for the future: insertion into the lives of people; public witness; and effective use of resources. Insertion Insertion simply means that .we must be part of the people we :serve, part of the society we live in, identifying ourselves as much as possible with the people. Sometimes that seems easy, especially when we come from the same class and a similar background. It is harder when a person with ~a middle-class background goes to teach in a wealthy suburb or to work~at an inner-city shelter for the homeless. It takes careful looking and searching to see the people around us and to recognize what they have to contribute to our lives. Not many, if any, of us rea!ly know what it is to stand in a line at a government office waiting'for an unemployment check,.to personally face the question of abortion or divorce. But iLwe let people teach us, our ministry will not be superficial and it will not be judgmental. Recently,someone. questioned the priorities of a small group of our sisters living in a village in Guatemala. "They spend so much time buying food and " preparing the meal," she said. Their work is basically with the .women of that village and the surrounding area. What better way to understand the life of those women than to identify with how they spend their day! And whose time priorities do we use to measure the value of our presence with these people? Henri Nouwen has spoken about how difficult it is for us to receive from people; we 'always want to give. He pointed out: a servant doesnt decide how h~/she is going to serve. He/she comes to work for people and observes and graduall3i learns how to serve them.~ It.seems that this is something we learn slowly in life. New teachers believe that everything depends on them. They prepare and prepare, presenting a day's work in the first half hour of class and Future Directions in Ministry then wonder what they will do the rest of the day. With time they learn that they don't even know what to prepare or what to give until they learn from the students what they need. Teachers must receive from their students in order to be of service to them. There are some consequences to the approach to ministry: We can't as easily deceive ourselves, believing we are in control. Not to be in charge can be very frustrating! Neither should we be an elite group in the Church anymore, on a pedestal, separated from the rest of the faithful. There is no work religious do that laity cannot do. And maybe the laity can do some things better. We may learn that lay leadership can be far more effective than our own in a parish or a school. We may need to stay for years in an area before we are really accepted by the people. This is often true in places like Appalachia where people are suspicious 6f"here-today, ,gone-tomorrow" outsiders with projects. The people we work with who are poor, who have little, help us examine our own lifestyles. We see what we actually need and what we have accumulated because consu-merism has crept in. One sister, speaking about the poor she encounters in the cour~ system, said; "They keep me honest." In our society and in our wo~:ld, the values that are a.ccepted and carry weight are: competition, power, domination, control--what we would characterize as "masculine" values. What our world needs is an alternative vision: not domination, but in,terdependence; not control, but freedom; not individualism, but collaboration. Within the Church, as religious persons, we already bring many gifts. We have the potential to do more. Sometimes lay women see sisters as rivals .for positions or recognition, rather than seeing them as sisters working with them to make the Church receptive to the contribution of women. Collaboration requires us to leave our ghettos, wherever they are, however comfortable. We need to stretch ourselves, to be with those who are different from ourselves and who can complement the gifts we have to bring. For such collaboration, coalitions can be formed so the power of action for good can be strengthened, i have belonged to the Central America Solidarity Coalition in Milwaukee since I returned from Nicaragua in 1980. ~.There are Catholics, atheists, Lutherans, students, union workers, socialists, democrats, medical personnel and many others in that coalition. It takes us time to come to agreement on directioqs or actions. But there, is respect for the differences, which is cbnstantly an example to me. I ~m convinced that it is worth the effort to make the coalition work because we can reach out to more people. We are not only talking to ourselves, to those convinced of the need to stand with the peoples of Central America. We also talk to the Catholics who are indifferent, to the union workers who want to see the relation of Central America to their jobs, and to many others. Our mission as a coalition is served by our diversity, even though this same diversity can be an obstacle, because people tend to categorize others by their associations. That may be what we are afraid of in taking such a step. 12 / Review for Religious, Jan,-Feb., 1985 To summarize, insertion into people's lives calls for a ministry with them, a -ministry which is reciprocal. It calls us to collaboration with other religious, with laity, with people who have the same goals as we, no matter what their background. There is one other point to be considered, and it is a sensitive one. Why would a musician take a practical nursing course and work in a nursing home? Some would say she is wasting her talents. Why would a Ph.D. go to work in a refugee camp or in a Catholic Worker house when~ she could be teaching? Most often these changes occur because the ministers have inserted themselves into the lives "of the people around them, and are listening to the needs of these pepple. Most often these.people are poor. We continue to hear the phrase, "the preferential option for the poor," and it has a foreign ring to it. The expression comes from Latin America, not from the United States. What does it mean? This preferential option for the poor basically is not about the type of people w~e work with, or where, or what type of work we do. It has to do with our hearts and with the values that inform all we do. It has to do with our priority concern in ministry. The term "preferential option for the poor", does. come from Latin America. The Latin American Conference of Religious-(CLAR) has explained its meaning, declaring a priority for certain poor, those who have these three characteristics: (l). they have nothing, no opportu, nities, no resources (2) they can do nothing, i.e. they have no power, and (3) they struggle in faith and love for justice and for a better world.2 The Church in Latin America has made a preferential option to accompany this group of people. And these are the poor 'who evangelize, who convert us. The question is: can We p~rsonally, can our religiou~s-institutes, make such an option in ministry? Can we support those who make this option? Public ~Mi~ "nistry For'some missionaries the preferential option for the poor has led to their persecution, torture, even death, the same consequences that the poor face in their daily lives. By thifir choice these missionaries give public testimony to Gospel values and to their following of Christ. This'is a second characteristic of ministry, public witness. In the United States our bishops have exercised a public ministry through their positions on racism, the threat of nuclear war, abortion, capital punishment and Central America. They' have not been persecuted, but they have been criticized and wooed. They have generated opposition and reaction. J. Bryan Hehir in the commencement address at Catholic University this past year coffcisdy presented.the meaning of public witness for us in the U.S. Church: In the.end a public church is a community which stands for something--indeed, which Future Directions in Ministry v stands f9r many things. It is the product of people who shape their personal lives in such a way that they make a public d~ifference. In concrete terms, that is the challenge of a public church: to live with a vision which makes a difference for the world.3 In this country we have a unique opportunity to 19e a public church. We are guaranteed freedom of expression and freedom from religious persecution. But many times Catholics do not understand this role for themselves or for the Church. Our tradition of separation of Church and state, designed to guarantee freedom of religion and prevent the establishment of any one religion, has been interpreted to mean that religious concerns are private, and that the Church should stay out of public life. The spirit of the Second Vatican Council is just the opposite. Gaudium et Spes calls the Church tO be a permeating rather than a parallel presence in the world. The mandates of Vati.can II must be carried out in the market place, in political cgnventions, in schooi~, in nursing.homes, in international meetings. To move in this direction is a risk. Bishops, Church people, may lose support and privileges. Religious institutes might lose their tax-exempt status, especially if the message they.speak is a threat to the status quo. Yet how ¯ important it is to hear Church representatives and organizations say no, as Bishop Hunthausen and others .have, to weapons production; ~ say no, as Archbishop Weakland has, to the deportation., of Central American refugees. More and more the Church must be known for upholding the vision of a better world and thus announcing the Reign of God on earth. It is unfortunate that at times we hear more from .our bishops than from our parish priests. There is such a need to awaken a consciousness of injustice. Who is doing it? Are we? Just as we say an institution has a mission or a sponsored program has a mission, so the total religious community or institute has a mission and can make a corporate response to the needs of the world. The community can take a public stance on certain issues, not because they are fads or the latest cause, but because of the values that we believe in as religious persons, as Catholics, as Christians. Furthermore, the leaders of a religious community, by their writing and other.actions, can call attention to injustices and to needs in society and in the Church. For years, the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, Kentucky, have been using a corporate reflection process in their community. They reflect in small groups and then in larger groups on a certain need or concern, for example, racism. Most of their sisters are located in the south. Publicly they are known as a community tha~ stands against racism. What are our communities known for publicly? How can the Gospel affect the world through our 9ommunities? Another dimension is the public witness of individual members of the community through writing, public appearances, participation in demon-strations, lobbying for reforms, holding prayer vigils, even civil disobedience. Our beliefs and values as a religious community, stated in our documents, are a guide to us as members examining the need for public witness. Increasingly, 14 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 this area of action l~as become more controversial within the Church. as we face the question of public office. It may not always be appropriate for individuals to speak publicly or take political stands. One of.our sisters in'Honduras, Maria Rose Leggol, directs a program for orphaned and abandoned children. The success of her efforts depends on support from all sectors of society and from the Government. Another ' sister in Central America works in a refugee camp. If she wants to continue to work there, she cannot criticize or even complain about anything that happens. This is especially difficult for her because of her background in union organizing in the south, but she makes this choice in order to continue her ministry. What is important is that some of us are present in the public arena--as legislative aides, as members of UN commissions, as writers for national publications and as artists who call to mind the beautiful in this world. Through some of our members we can be present where decisions are made, where values can be influenced. One caution in all of this: we must avoid dichotomies. Rather, we must see the connections. There is not only one way to look at anything. So, we are not all ptiblic figures or writers or artists. But some of us are. And weare all called to be leaders and prophets in our own ministry. The choice is not between direct service and structural change, between education and social justice, between the individual and the corporate. The choice is between cooperation and competition. The challenge is for us to see the connections among all of these types of ministries, and to be a public witness in the spirit of 1 Co 12:4-5: There is a variety of gifts but always the same spirit; there are all sorts of services to be done, but always to the same Lord . Effective Use of Resources As members of religious institutes Wer share in their personal, financial, institutional resources. We do have some money at our disposal and perhaps, as religious communities, more money than many individuals in our society, because the money is held in common. At the same time we also have needs within our-communities, including retirement needs. Therefore, there has to be a balance between the use of inonies to meet those community needs and to respond to ministry needs. A question to ask, as a community, is: What are the ministries that we believe in so much that we are willing to make sure that they continue? We can make sure that they continue in different 'ways. One is~by giving personnel, maybe even sacrificing someone we would like to see in internal community work so that ministry needs can be met. Another by allowing our members to work by contributing services, that is, working for a stipend or lower salary. A third is giving real money, on a one-time or an ongoing basis. Maybe those earning more can contribute or be assessed a certain amount annually to support those who do not earn enough. Future Directions in Ministry ] 15 An example of how to insure an ongoing program, in this case one that meets the immediate food needs of the poor, is the St. Benedict Meal Program in Milwaukee. This program has been organized citywide with many parishes and organizations providing the meal one day a month for the people who are poor and homeless. It is a program that does not drain resources, because different parishes and groups sponsor one day a month. They can afford to do that. It is a program that is systematized so that people are fed every day of the month. Therefore, it is a program that is ensured a long life and is a real service to people. St. Benedict the Mror Parish also had the idea for,the project now known as the Benedict Center for Justice, which helps women in jail through a program of v!siting, of education, and of job counseling. This program is dependent on outside financial resources to be able to continue. There are limits to financial commitments, and the parish may not be able to do much, but they have established a brainstorming group to consider the long-term. Over the years, our religious institutes have made some institutional, Commitments. We must evaluate these to determine whether they continue to respond to the fieeds of people, and whether we have the resources, personal and financial, to maintain them. Institutions can give a service that individuals cannot. Because of the size of an institution and its very existence, it has a certain amount of clout, or power. An institution can have an effect on a political issue, for example. We have been looking at this questirn in relationship to our health care institutions in the United States. We have one rehabilitation hospital, one nursing home, one psychiatric hospital and one general hospital. We have been asking whether we should maintain the one general hospital, and until now the answer has been "yes" because having a general hospital allows us to speak in a forum that would otherwise be closed to us. . An alternative tO owning and operating an institution is to sponsor an institution or a program. For example, our community sponsors the LaFarge Lifelong Learning Institute, a separately incorporated organization, serving the needs of over one-thousand elderly people each semester by providing classes, a place to visit, h.chapel, and a hot meal at noon. The community has no financial obligation to this institute, but some of our sisters, active and retired, work within it. Another example is a project our community sponsored some years ago in the Walker Point area of Milwaukee. It is still bearing fruit, even though the project as such has ceased to exist. A small group of sisters researched the needs of the Walker Point neighborhood community. Three of them began to live and work there. One worked with a handicraft cooperative, another helped to establish a neighborhood newspaper. They all served within a local parish. At the present time, only one of those sisters remains, but now there is a tri-college outreach project, with our college, Alverno, participating, to help women in that area of the city who have not had the opportunity to continue in school, to complete their basic education. So needs change, responses change. If there 16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 is some ~commitment to an area, sponsorship ofa new program, even though that program h~is a time limit, m~y be one way to serve people, Many of us are familiar with discussions about the meaning of "corporate th.rust~ or ',corporate commitment." Institutions and sponsored programs and parish schools are clearly ',corpora, te" commitments. But there are other ways of serving ,that amplify :our undei'standing of the corporate dimension. For example, the Capuchin priests ~nd brothers have some intentional communities, In one the priests are in different w.brk but they are all committed t~ being part of the inner-city neighborhood the~ live in; and they share the same values and concerns about justice. Another w,ay of looking at the corporate dimension is to see it present in each member,of the community. One member may say about another, "Oh, she is just going off to do her own thing." What that person may not know is that this itnd~vldual may have internalized v~ery well the vision of her foundress and theigoals of her community. Se.eing a need, she might, respond as an individual but very much as part of the community Bishop Kenneth Untener of Saginaw, MI, said to the religious of his diocese that the measure of the val,ue of religious life is the impact of our lives upon others. He says, ~ ' Today your witness is more individuali Today we notice how each of you prays. Today we notice how each of you finds ways to :live out the vow of poverty. We notice how celibate commitment is expressed through your own person. We notice your attempts to be obedient to the Lord's call, to the work of your community, to the needs of the Church. Your respo~nse unfolds in ma~ny different ways . You are aware, I'm sure, that this p~laces different demands upon ~ou. It is One thing to be a member of a community whose Collective life makes an impact. It is quite another thing to make an impact through your own individual life. The Church needs both . 4 If this trend is true, and we know from our experience that it is, then it continues to be exceedingly important that each one of us develop ourselves, our own resources through study, reflection, education and through other ways :of ~keeping ourselves open, to learn more an~l to become more. Experiences of people very different from ourselves can be broadening if we are open to them. One of our sisters, participating in our mission exchange program, went to Peru to develop her Spanish and her understanding of Hispanic people. She works with learning-disabled children in Aurora, Illinois, many of whom.are Hispanic. This year she is back in Aurora, her h~art opened to the pastoral needs of the Churc~h in another part of the. world. We are all aging and though x~e might be happy with .the work we are doing, we have less choice about, what else we might do. The Sisters of Perpetual Adoration in LaCrosse .~ponsored a hostel last summer for their sisters age fifty'five ~nd older. It ~;as a program of theological reflection, in which participants looked at their own futures and possibilities for new directions in their lives, recognizingithat with aging come physical Limitations. The contribution of new members also needs to be drawn out and appreciated. When we think about~lspecific ~vorks, we need to recognize that new members are not necessarily in education or health-care fields in which Future Directions in Ministry many of us have worked. What do they bring? What kind of ministry directions do they point us toward? We had a meeting of all our formation directors from different countries during December, 1983. One of the points mentioned at that meeting was that the new members help to form the community. If we really believe that, we have to find ways of putting it into practice. Sometimes they are so new that they do not take much initiative, or they are drowned out by the initiative of other members. We need to look for ways to hear their voices so that they can really shape the community, which is theirs, in the future. Each one of us must: Consider the treasure that w~ arer the gifts and skills and abilities we possess. We must recognize our own freedom or lack of freedom to make changes, to start on a new path, to "let go." We must take into account our limitations, our personal needs. The deeper our awareness of our own selves, the more we can be in ministry. We, in the United States, in the Catholic Church, have a unique opportunity to be prophetic. We belong to a Roman-based Church that, at the present moment, emphasizes hierarc~iy at the exPense of the prophetic dimension, and the Church needs both. We know that at times our contribution is not recognized. Thdt does not mean that it is not valuable. The Church needs the dimension we bring just as the body needs both arms, each finger and toe. To be prophetic in ministry may mean nothing more (or less) than that each of us and all of us pursfiE our goal as members of our communities, which at root is the goal of the Church and' ultimately of the Gospel, to transform the earth and promote the Reign of God. ' We express our fidelity to that goal through our ongoing willingness to reexamine our ministry priorities. As :we crntinue that reexamination, we must keep before us the people we serve. We must ask ourselves about our awareness of reciprocity and our efforts to collaborate. About the quality and the fearlessness of our public witness; individually and corporately. About the creative and effective use of our many-faceted resources. Then we will be prophets in the Chui'ch of today ¯ and tomorrow, true in our following of Jesus and fa'ithful to the heritage of our communities. NOTES t Henri Nouwen, "The Spirituality of Struggle," a presentation at the annual meeting of the U.S. Catholic Mission Association, May 6, 1984. , 2Cited by Anthony Bellagamba, I.M.C., "The Preferential Option for the Poor," Alba House Cassettes, Canfield, Ohio 4440~6, to be released in Spring, 1985. 3j, Bryan Hehir, "A Public Church," Origins, May 31, 1984, p. 43. 4Kenneth Untener, "The Rich Abundance Within an Earthen Vessel," Origins, June 7, 1984, p. 61. Focused Freedom: To, Someone in Formation Desmond O'Donnell, O M.1. ; Father o'Donnell, is a General Councillo~r of his congregation, and may be addressed at the generalate:~ Oblati; C.P. 9061; 00i00R o m~a-Aureh"o; Italy. His last article in our pages, "The Problem Member in Community;~ appeared In the issue of March/April, 1981. Agood friend confides in you that he or she is considering adopting a way of life which will guarantee reasonable security but no significant material rewards, in which Considerable mobility of residence may be foreseen, in which work-preference will not always be,given, in which marriage and family life ar~ forgone and for which a seven or eight year training period, will be necessary. What would you sa); to your friend? What sort of questions do you think he or she should consider? Is there~ one big question which your friend should face deeply? Before you read further, in this letter, it could be useful to jot down the sort of questions you think you~r friend should think about before he or she gets into this unusual way of life. t No deep reflection is necessary to discover that your friend is thinking ~bout giving up a great deal nor to see that the demands of this way of life are unusual. Can you do it? Is it worthldo~ng? Has anyone the right to ask all this of you? Why are you doing it anyway? What do you hope to get out of it? These are some of the spontaneoqs questions which might come to mind in responding to you~ friend. It is clear that at base there is question not merely of material prosperity, marriage or m~obility but of your friend's very self, of his or her core freedom. Your friend h~s to face the issue of exercising or of losing his or ~her freedom in a very radical way. You are aware~that I am talkin~ about your own respofise to priesthood or to the vowed life. Looking at either from this human point of view that of using.or losing one's freedom---can~,be a good starting point. The questions are 18 Focused Freedom / "19 important for you at this time and they cannot be answered theoretically nor by another person for you. Your own very personal freedom is at stake, The exercise of freedom at any level is personally demanding but at the level of priesthood or the vowed life, one's entire personhood is involved. 31,000 priests asked to be dispensed from their way of life between 1963 and 1978; 60,000 sisters have changed their way of life during approximately the same period. Did these sincere people have freedom? Did they lose their freedom? Did they give it away? 'Did they have it taken from them? Or did they find it only in later life? What does the fact of their presumably painful experience of staying, then leaving and readjusting to a new way of life, say to people life yourself? The failure to deal with this sort of question could mean that you become an additional statistic. Keeping Your Options Open There is a very obvious, and attractive temptation today to avoid the risk and exercise of freedom at any depth. It is to avoid completely all deep and permanent choices like marriage, priesthood or the vowed life. It is to sidestep all unconditional decisions. Besides being aimless, this if-perhaps-maybe-for-a- while exercise of freedom is purposeless, as we are~ reminded by Dag HammarskjiSld -- "The man who is unwilling to accept the axiom that he who chooses one path is denied the others must try to persuade himself, I suppose, that the logical thing to do .is to remain at the cross roads."1 We can understand and admirea married couple very fruii-fully renewing their choice of each other, at regular intervals, but constantly revising or reassessing their choice would hardly make for a deepening relationship any more than regularly uprooting a flower and replanting it would help it~ growth. As Karl Rahner reminded us, freedom is not exercised in the constant revision of choice but in the, ability to make one choice and follow it. Experiencing Freedom . 4, To be free is to be untrapped, free from han/~-ups which could hinder a chosen directioning of one's life. It presumes the ability to shake off anything which might limit the power to say yes in the direction of a deeply-chosen goal. More positively it is the power to surrender one's whole self, to lose oneself even one's life--for a chosen cause: It is the ability to bring oneself together, to collect one's frequently scattered parts, to point them and trigger them all in one important direction. Freedom at its best enables the momentous launching of one's life in a morally irreversible .direction. "Man is free when he is able to make up his mind in conformity with the highest values and the ultimate aims" (John Paul II to the Faculty of Frib~urg University, June I3; 1984, quoted in L'Osservatore Romano 2/7./84 p.3). Maximilian Kolbe was most frbe when he walked out of his cell in 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 Auschwitz to take the place of another prisoner about' to be killed:" .Dag Hammarskj~ild tells us about his '.freest moment--"To be free, to be able to stand up and leave every, thing bfhind--without looking back. To say yes" (p,88). ~ Jesus .summa~:izes his life thusT--"I~ lay down my life., no one takes it from me. I lay it down freely" (Jn 10: 17, 18). While this deepest exercise of freedom can sometimes be socially supported and encouraged by less than totally selfless motives, it can come ultimately only from someone who i~ rich indeed--a real adult. No wonder (Jordon Allport reminded us that only adults can commit themselves and that commitment and adulthood arrive simultaneously. Appreciating Freedom It seems to me that one blessing of this age of totalitarian regimes and mind-manipulating techniques is ttlat it is leading to an increased appreciation of freedom. In the past the conscious awareness of freedom was lower because it was less necessary, or less encouraged but now there is a growing sense of human rights and freedom everywhere. Some would see a need to recall St. Paul's words today even in the Church: "Some who do not belong tO the brotherhood have furtively crept i,n to spy on the liberty we enjoy in Christ Jesus and to reduce us all to slavery again" (Ga 2.4): To which he opposes the fact that "When Christ freed us, lie meant us to remain~free" (Ga 5.1). Paul surely appreciated hisfreedom agai.hst those who would limit it even within the Church. ', It is only in freedom that we c.an become our best selves by transcending ourselves in an act of kenosis and thus reflect the justice-fidelity of God by the power of his Spirit---"Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Co 3:17). When we use our freedom toldo what w6 know is right or what we know we are called by God to do, we arellike God whose dabar was his word-event, his word-acted-upon in freedom. Our freely acted-upon word no~t only expresses us but it makes us what we are,. as Karo.l Wojiyla, later Pope John Paul II, emphasized in his Acting Person. Thus it is that freedom involves your deepest you. Your free acts express you, and they also make you---especially those rare acts of dedication which influence your life'~ direction deeply. While you can be forcibly limited by others whenexpressing it externhlly, this core freedom can be touched only, and used only, by you. The full and, fruitful exercise of this freedom calls for an ever-deepening appreciation of it. Conscious Awareness Since thefinal choice of priesth~aod or/and of the vowed life is. going to be an expression of your deepest freedom, it is important that you get the feel of this freedom now. You cannot lose yourself unless you have found yourself. It will only be when you have exp'ressed and felt the satisfaction of lesser Focused Freedom / 21 :freedoms that you can gradually appreciate the deeper ones. and finally the deepest one of being "ready at any moment to gather all into one Simple sacrifice"2 as Hammarskji51d put it. -~, Have you recognized yet that every choice is a little death; that every choice makes you in a way that can never quite be unmade? Or have you ex;er thought and reflected upon how prominent people in the Chuich, in your own congregation or in history have exercised their freedom? Why not organize a seminar or write a paper on one of these people and then line it up with the oarticioants' own experience of freedom? And to flex your~own freedom muscles in the exercise of everyday actions such as eating, drinking, fasti~g, going to bed, getting up, keeping to study or prayer exercise/schedules can be a revealing and helpful exercise. This recognition of' the primacy of the practical--just doing it--will add authenticity to the reading and reflection you do on the subject. Your failures to be free can teach you as mu(has your hard won victories. From these you can discover and list--it is good to write them down--the areas of your freedoms and unfreedoms and what it is that contributes to'each. Your freedom to finally choose the vowed life or. to accept priesthood will be on sand or on solid ground depending on the type of soil you have prepared over these early years. The fact that. you fail or succeed in exercising your smaller freedoms could be less important than ~,our discovery of what motivated the success or failure. That iswhy the habit of monitoring your.freedom in a daily examen of consciousness is important. Heightened physical and mental aware-ness has great benefits for richer living: Try to grow in a similar awareness of your freedom by learning to look at it reflectively. Discerning Freedom , ~ To help you in monitoring your freedom-efforts as you grow into~your vocation, may I offer you a guideline or norm? As you find yourself growing in peacefulness, ease, harmony or even enjoyment of your way of life, you can know that you are moving into real freedom in your vocation, This, of course, allows for rough spots and moments of doubt but not for a constant series of such. You will grow into thefeeling that paradoxically you are beco .ming less free to choose outside that way of life as a happily married couple becomes less free to part, with the years. In a way, your growing vocational choice can be compared to an onion with its many layers~ If the core is sound, then each layer originatingfrom the core fits around it and strengthens' it~ As time passes, the healthy core becomes safer with its close-fitting layers protectingly around it~ And a time comes when the core cannot be touched unless the layers are gradually and destructively removed and the entire organism destroyed. That is why. it is difficult to lose a genuine vocation and impossible to lose it suddenly or without gradual and long infidelity. If a person's vocational choice has been sound in the beginning and 22 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 succeeding choices emerge from it and fit it, then what is called loss of vocation has tb be more a partial disintegration of the personality than a departure from something which was part of it. If, !on the other hand, the core has been poorly motivated, the later layers are more like wrapping paper which can easily be removed b~cause ~they do not really belong; they, were put on rather than having emerged from the core. Thee vocation was not lost; it was never there. So it is vital in these early years to beaware of your core freedom, to reflect on it and to relish it.~Each day of ygur life over these early years cannot be a review, a revision nor a momentary rejection of your basic choice just as the layers of a healthy onion cannot be !removed even for constant clinical analysis. On the contrary, each~act is a renev~ing and deepening of what you know was a healthy initial choice. It will help you perhaps in ~onltonng your grdwth into freedom to consider Ivan Illich's question about schooling--,'Is it a place where the child . is~,chasing knowledge or where knqwledge ~s chasing the child?" In these early years, do you increasingly get the feeling that this way of life is something you are pursuing more comfortably eac.h year or do you have the feeling that it .is something clumsily pursuing you and with which you are increasingly less than comfortable? Or to put it another Way, can you see and feel yourself enjoying this way of life freely in, say, tweniy years' time? Is this way of life becoming more "good news" to ~ou each year? If you answer these questio.ns in a clear no or with a hesitant yes, you have reasons to doubt the presence of freedom in your present way of life. . I ~ Spiritual directors now exercise their role less as directors than as someone who accompanies--a sort of spiri.tual friend. And who better to help you monitor your growth in freedom? ~With this friend, you can, as it were, take your freedom out to look at it in the only way possible--how you use it from day~to-day, In the presence of such~ friend, you can bring yourself to account gently and even ask him or her to do it for you. Formators, too, have an important role to play in our growth in the external use of freedom. You can 'r.easonably ask, then, that they fulfill their contractual role- that of leading you into a life'form which they themselves are already living. In recent years .,there may have been a sort of suicide of leadership in reaction to an earlier bver-authoritarian model. But laissez-faire leadership is not a Christian model and if your formators use this, they do you an injustice. If you feel theyare faili,hg you in this way, yo.u can reasonably ask them to encourage, challenge and confront you on your external behavior in such matters as presence at commgn prayer, availability to the community, academic results, interpersonal behavior and pastoral work. Both your spiritual guide and your formators are important, in helping you find your response-ability in freedom. ~ ~ Focusing Freedom ,~ .~ It seems very significant that s~]ch a diverse group as a Dutch spiritual Focused Freedom writer, a Jewish psychiatrist, a French philosopher and an American psychol-ogist stress that focusing is an indication of adulthood. Van Kaam says that permanent commitment is entrance intopotential maturity after the indecisiofi and dispersion of adolescence, while Viktor Frankl stresses that the human person actualizes him or herself only insofar as he or she becomes committed to life's meaning. Gabriel Marcel adds to this by reminding us -- "Man can know himself only if he is committed and only the man who knows himself is ready for ~ommitment." Gordon Allpo~t seems to summarize it by saying that it is only when youth begins to plan for life that the sense of self is complete. Like a river which gathers force when it is channeled, freedom is at its best when it is focused. A man is never so free in his relationship with women as when he deeply chooses and marries one. Freedrm is maximized when. it 'is purposefully pointed in one direction. Because all freedom is ultimately situated in a pla,ce, time'and activity, it must be focused to be full and fruitful. You are now looking seriously at one life-form on which you consider it worth centering your freedom. Your diocese with its people, its structures and its leaders or your congregation with its charism, community living and mission, offer you an opportunity to express yrur freedom in and through them. The question before you remains -- "Is this the structured life-form in which and through which I can freely b~come my best self?. Is this where I want to focus and express my deepest freedom unconditionally?" Hume said that reason must always serve passion and Lonergan described emotion as the mass and momentum of human existence. True, to follow feelings or to be driven by emotions is not necessarily to find one's vocaiion, but feelings and emotions experienced over a time can help us find our personal truth." Despite-the partly foreseen sacrifices entailed in your con-sidered way of life, do you feel that this is where you want to express~our personal gifts;' that the mission of this diocese or congregation is increasingly getting hold of you? Do you feel even somewhat driven as St. Paul expressed it in speaking of his own mission: "It is for'this that I struggle wearily on, helped only by his~' power driving me irresistibly" (Col 1:29) or lik~ Jeremiah: "You have seduced me, Lord, and I allowed myself to be seduced"or like Jesus when he said: "I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already" (Lk 12.49)? Do you feel a conviction that something important will remain undone if you do not do it because,no one else can make your unique and irreplaceable contribution?' While. this experience has come to some people in one momentarily very strong impulse, it comes~to most of us in a calmer and more prolonged way. But come it must and pres~ent it must be, if you are to launch your life freely into the life-form you are now consideiing. Freedom Through Community One good way to determine the quality of your choice now and throughout your life will be your attitude towards and your actions for or 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 against the community you join. ~her.e will ever be a healthy tension between your individuality and the community. Dialogue and discernment will have to ¯ be a permanent part of this interdction but from the point of view of the new member like yourself, he or she can reasonably ask: "Will this presbyterium or c~ngregation give me the experience of a community of believers so that the exercise of my freedom in faith arid love will be supported or am I just being invited into a busy bachelors' club or into a same-sex group of social workers where interaction is generally SUl~erficial and mostly for the sake of smooth interpersonal relationships?" On 'the other side of the dynamic, a modern Jewish scholar poses questions t6o: "The proper use of autonomy begins by repudiating the self as a monad! I am individual and unique but likewise inseparably part of all mankind. More, by my finitude I am necessarily more intimately linked to some of its vast number than to others. I am therefore morally obligated to live my life,in community with them and exercise my personal autonomy in terms of them . I understand that to mean that my community .may reasonably demand of me that 1 discipline my will so that the community can function and persevere . It can also legitimately expect me to sacrifice my conscience when its promptings conflict with central affirma-tions of my group . .Our com¯munities and traditions bear a wisdom far more profound and embracing an,d certainly more enduring than anything we could create on our own. In conflict with it we must often bow to what, against our private judgment but in due humi.lity, we accept as.its superior understanding.'3 I have consciously omitted mtich explicit reference to God in this letter so far. I thought it best to isolate the ~,experience of any focused freedom without naming the central motivation which would inspire it in our case, namely faith in God and in his Son, Jesus Christ. To return to your im~ aginary friend of the first paragraph, sure!y the deepestland most inclusive question for him or her will be: "Why are you doing this?'? Because priesthood and the vowed life are meaningless without faith and a real experience of God. the choice of these vocations without faith would beiself-destructive and ~]ltimately harmful for others also. It is not easy to define priesthood or.~ the vowed life with theological precision but one t6ing remains clear, namely that a deep experience of God must be the motivating force. Even positive motives such as preaching good news or changin~ political structures for the sake of God's poor, will not sustain these life-f0rms. While this faith-motivation does not usually come to us as it did to Paul en route to Damascus, it must be there just the same, despite the often-present doubts which are part of any adult faith. "Father, if it be possible." was i .fiamediately followed by nevertheless spoken in faith and freedom by Jesus. Freedom and Uncertainty The .quest for total certainty iis self-defeating whether it is about hang gliding or about God, whether it i~i abou.t someone we love or the significance Focused Freedom of our own lives. Caution cannot be a substitute for action; it can only accompany it. We must beware of theorizing too much about certainty and freedom in a veiled attempt to eliminate the risks of action. Lot's wife was almost persuaded to leave Sodom and Gomorrah; Agrippa was almost persuaded by Paul to become a Christian and the rich young man was almost persuaded to leave his wealth and follow ,lesus. Their search for certainty paralyzed them. Again, Dag HammarskjSld helps us: "Once I answered yes to Someone or Something. And from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life in self-surrender, has a goal.TM He acted in freedom despite the uncertainty expressed in his "Someone" or "Something." It is surely important to be as free as possible before making important life decisions but this is not to say that we must await the chimera of perfect freedom. Carl .lung reminds us: "Life itself flows from springs both clear and muddy. Hence all excessive 'purity' lacks vitality. A constant striving for clarity and differen-tiation means a proportionate loss of vital energy, precisely because the muddy elements are excluded. Every renewal of life needs the muddy as well as the clear. ''~ Muddy freedom will become clearer #s it is exercised just as the str~earia gets clearer on its journey from its muddy source. Conclusion I find that Robert focused' freedom: Frost offers people like us an ideal, as we grow in But yield who will to their separation, My object in living is to unite my avocation and my vocation as my two eyes make one in sight. Only where love and need are one and work is play for mortal stakes, is the deed ever re.ally done for heaven and for future sakes. NOTES ~Dag Hammarskjtild. Markings Ed. W.H. Auden: Faber and Faber Ltd, London 1966. 2Dag Harfimarskji51d. op. cit., 1. 3Eugene Borowitz Theological Studies. March 1984, "The Autonomous Self and the Commanding Community." 4Dag Hammerskji51d. op. cit., 1. 5Carl .lung Psychological Types Bollington Series (Princetown), 1974, p.244. Trusting in the Providence of God Mary Ann Fatu~a, 0. P. Sister Mary Ann is well. known to our readers by reason of her earlier contributions, the most recent of which was "Catherine of Siena on the Communion of Friendship" (March/April, 1984). She may be addressed at her office as Chairperson of the Theology Department of Ohio Dominican College; 1216 Sunbury Roadi'Columbus~ OH 43219. "Cast all of your cares upon the Lord, for he cares for you" (1 P 5:7). A key figure in the political and dcclesial crises of her day, the fourteenth-century Dominican and doctor of the Church, Catherine of Siena, lived a' spirituality which embraced this radical trust in the providence of God. In her Dialogue she expressed with unique insight a central truth experienced by men and women of faith before and after her: far from providing an escape from the reality of human life, it is precisely such a trust which provides the focal point for a key human conversion. It is a conversion to placing one's trust not simply in one's own limited resources and efforts, "but" in the abundant and intimate providence of God. Paradoxically, it is also this conversion which founds a spirituality capable of nourishing an authentic personal autonomy and mature interdependence. Early in Catherine's life the Lord pledged that he would make her his concern if she would make him her concern. Experience of her helplessness in situations which her efforts proved powerless to change faced Catherine daily with the same choice 'which in some way confronts every human being: either to trust or to despair. "Which of you by being anxious can add a cubit to his or her life? If then you are not able to do even this, why are you anxious about the rest?. Yo~.ur Father knows your needs. Seek first his kingdom, and these things shall be yours as well" (Lk 12:25-26, 30-31). Toward the end of her life, Catherine reflected on the Lord's faithfulness to his promise made in her youth. The result is the section in her Dialogue which stands as a hy, mn of praise to the infinite mercy of a provident God. Her close friend and 26 Trusting in the Providence of God / 27 biographer, Raymond of Capua, wrote that this chapter was an explication of the very foundation of her spirituality, the experience of the frailty of what is Created, and the absolute power of the love of God. °The Choice~to Trust In life's most precious experiences there is perhaps the wordless recognition of,.the fruit of trust. It is the paradox of security in the presence of what we cannot ,unequivocally verify. Around us are alluring traces of the kind of trust which makes human life possible at all: in the vulnerability of a child asleep in a parent's a~:ms; in the secret shared between friends; in the vow that is said and then lived, to love faithfully until death. But life leaves also its scars. Those who know what it is not to trust or to be trusted, who know what it is to be betrayed, recognize also the fruit of distrust in the sense of worthlessness which eats away at their identity, in the anxiety and fear which rob them of peace. ~For each of us, in the face.of what life has held out to us, a deeper question and choice inevitably presents itself in the decisions of everyday. Has life ultimately been gracious to us, or has it cheated and betrayed us? To ask this is to ask the meaning of our life experiences taken as a whole, an6 holy vve will choose to live out the future in the light of that meaning. More than most, Catherine knew what it was to live through the bitterness of life. She knew what it was tO have those for whom she had poured out her life energy turn against her. And yet Catherine made her choice. In and through the weak and often twisted ways of the human heart, she found the reality deeper than all others and which she learhed to trust absolutely. For Catherine, the entire universe is ruled not by forces' which rob and deceive us, but by the provident mercy of God. She learned to trust that all of creation is made for humanity, and it is this fragile and precious work of his hands with whom God ~has fallen "insanely" in love. He has given everything with love and care: every facet of creating, every gift and faculty of our unique persons. In every event of history he has unfolded his mercy, until finally, he did not spare even his own Son. What he wantsqs only our good, and having provided for our every need in the past, he will continue to do so to the end.* Catherine realizes that it is only those who see with eyes of faith and hope, who make the radical choice to trust in God'sprovidence, who are able to receive its fullness. The God who infinitely respects the human persons he has authored will not force his love on .their freedom. His providence will never fail those who place their hope and trust!in him (280): But it.is a trust Which cannot exist side by side with a contrary hope. To trust in oneself is to trust in "what is not." To trust in God is to cling to the one alone "who is." The choice to trust is finally the choice to let go, to entrust oneself, to receive the gift Contained in *The Dialogue: 136; in Catherine of Siena: The Dialogue, translation and introduction by Suzanne Nofke, O.P. (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), pp. 180-181. Other references to this work will be cited in the text by page number. 211 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 every moment of life. Yet how can one receive with love and reverence the tragedies which life holds and which evoke in us only :anger and bitterness? Are not '~life's experiences of disappointment and pain empty of the providence of God? ~On the contrary," the Lord tells Catherine. "No matter where they turn those who trust in my providencewill find nothing but mydeep burning charity, and the greatest, gentle, true, perfect providence" (290). It is not that his providence causes tragedies. Rather, even in life's inevitable tragedies, his providence is great enough to bring life from what is material for death. Itis not that we are to deny or repress human feelings of anger in the face of pain. But working through anger and pain is meant to bear fruit finally in the peace and even joy " which recognize the gift of God given in every event. The Wealth ltidden Within Catherine's experience taught her that what human beings find particularly bitter is the discovery that all that is created will eventually~fail us. The temptation then is to cry out against the God whose providence has .abandoned and deprived us of what our plans had fashioned. We "lift up our heads against the goodness of God," writes Catherine, and draw death from what was intended to give life, because we "do not recognize the wealth hidden within" (219). How is the "wealth hidden within" every human experience to be discovered? One dimension of sin is the human resistance to change,-the unwillingness to grow. "How can you lift your head .against my goodness? Because you do not see that all things except my grace are changing and. because you . are constantly changing, I am constantly providing what you need at any given time" (282). The refusal to olet go of a present and yet outgrown security is so. strong a temptation in us that unless it.is removed from us, it can become an obstacle to the deeper security which alone founds human maturity and autonomy. God permits what is created to fail us so that, in the absence of previous supports, we may cling to the one alone "who is," and so be given the means for deeper growth. The "troublesome thorns" of life God permits not out of hatred but love for us (290). In this way we are forced to learn what we would rather not: that what is created can never be God for us. In the collapse of hope in what is created, we are given .the invitation to see and to turn to the one who will not fail us: "I wanted her to learn that although everyone else might fail her, 1 her Creator would never fail her. and that with or without the help of another person, in any situation or at any time whatever. I know how to and can and will satisfy her in wonderful ways" (296). Those who place their trust not in themselves but in God, eventually experience the fruit of this trust. God himself becomes their provider and gives them his "merry," the Holy Spirit, as their mother to nurse them at the breast of God's love (291). Gradually their fear and insecurity starve for want of food. Trusting in the Providence of God / 29 The Spirit, their mother, feeds them with the milk of gratitude and love. The ones so nourislied become with time strong and confident, able to see life with new eyes in a light given by the Spirit. Slowly they learn to hold "all things in reverence, the left hand as well as the right, trouble as well as consolation." Even in painful situations they learn to reverence the gift "hidden within" as the material for deeper growth. Thus, the Lord tells Catherine, in situations 0f great labor, he gives the gift of even greater strength (292). The "Holy Tricks" of Providence In order to make his people "drunk" with his providence, the Lord devises "holy tricks" perfectly suited to meet their needs at any particular moment. To those caught fast in sin he gives his providence by "plucking the rose" from their thorn. One kind of "thorn" is an enslaving sin; the rose, the lack of satisfaction he gives in the experience of that sin. "They set their affection on something,., but they find nothing there" (297). This gift of his providence is meant as an enticement away from the emptiness and pain of sin by means of the sweeter gift of peace and freedom (297): In other circumstances, the Lord employs still other "holy tricks" of his prowidence. He finds ways to humble the pride which bears fruit in judging others, gossiping, and using the tongue to complain and "spit out hurtful words." As healing, the Lord permits emptiness in a person's feelings, darkness in her mind, and temptations which besiege the senses. "Why do I keep her in such pain and distress? To show her my providence so she will trust not in herself but me." The person who is humbled through these struggles will learn the contrast between her own weakness and the provident love of God for her. In these struggles is contained her liberation, for the Lord himself eventually will free her in deeper ways than she could have imagined. Serenity and peace come unforeseen, not through her own effort alone, but through the Lord's "immeasurable charity, which wanted to provide for her in time of need when she could scarcely take any more" (301). The struggles which humble are in fact the gift of God: "The soul comes to perfection by fighting these battles, because there she experiences my divine providence, whereas before this she only believed in it" (302). For those formed in virtue, the Lord provides in still other ways by using a "pleasant trick to keep them humble.," Often, after they have borne the weight of burdens and sufferings with patience and gentleness, he allows them to feel passion or rage at a mere trifle: "In something that really is nothing, that they themselves will later laugh at, their feelings are so aroused that they are stupefied." At other times, his providence leaves his servants a "pricking" as he did with Paul: "I left him., the resistance of his flesh." Is the Lord able to remove the weakness of his servants? Certainly, he tells Catherine, but his providence leaves his loved ones "this or that sort of pricking" so that they will become humble and "compassionate instead of cruel to their neighbors." For those who suffer from their own weakness will have cause to be all the more 30 / Review for. Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 compassipnate toward the weakness of others (305). .- The Chain of Charity According to Catherine, the most tender means which the provident God has designed to care for us is one anothi~r. The God who in his being is trinitarian communion of love has fashioned us in his image. The inescapable truth etched into our own beings is that we are made by love, and we are made for love. We are, in fact, made to need and care for one another. "In this life I have bound you with the chain of charity. 1 in my providence did not give to any one person or to each individually the knowledge for doing everything necessary for human life. No, I gave something to one, something else to another, so that each one's need would be a reason to have recourse to the other" (31 l). Could he have given, everyone as an individual all that he or she needs? Yes, he tells Catherine, "But in my providence I wanted to make each of you dependent on the others,'so that you would be forced to exercise charity" (312). Thus, for example, the poor who place all their trust in him will experience for themselves his providence.Sometimes in their .need they are brought almost to the brink of despair, only so that they may see all the more clearly the miracle of the Eord~s care for them (314). Sometimes the provident God acts directly, as he did with Dominic, causing bread to appear for his brothers who had nothing to eat. Usually, however, he inspires his loved ones to pray for and to come to the assistance of the poor themselves. In many ways he touches his servants' hearts to provide' for those in need. Even those dedicated to solitude cannot escape the chain of charity with which the Lord has bound his people together. Thus, he inspires a hermit to leave his or her solitude in order to giqe help to another hermit (324). He "stretches out" his providence to his poor by inspiring his servants with compassion for the needs of their brothers arid sisters (315). "The whole life of my gentle poor is thus cared for by the concern I give the world's servants for them" (314). In still another way, the Lord cares for our deepest needs through one another. He tells Catherine that he uses a ~holy trick" of his providence to inspire people with a "special love" for another. It is this "special love" which eventually brings to light hidden insecurity, jealousy, possessiveness, manipula-tion, selfishness. The inner struggle uncovered through the pain of these relationships is meant to lead to humble self-knowledge and dependence bn his healing. As a person grows through these struggles into deeper personal autonomy and inner freedom, "a greater and more perfect love for others in general will follow, as well as for the special person my goodness has given her" (303). Thus, his providence has inextricably bound and woven itself into our care for one another. Our 'own~ persons are the lixJing sacrament of God's providence given to us in one another. As his friends grow more and more one with him in prayer, they become identified with him and live out the Trusting in the Providence of God / 31 experience ofPaul: "It is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me" (Gal 2:20). And as with Jesus, those whose love grows will know both deeper joy and deeper sorrow. The pain of the friends of God is not finally that of offenses done to them, but rather the grief they feel for sin against, the Lord and the destructiveness of sin for the sinner. Those who learn to love "know how ineffably I :love my creatures., and so they have fallen in love with my creatures' beauty for love of me." Through the chain of charity with which the Lord binds his people together, he provides in a marvelous way at one and the same time for both sinner and those his love inspires to intercede for them, The sinner's heart is touched through the prayer of his servants, and these latter are in turn all the more united to the Lord through their p~rayer~ Through their love and yearning for others' salvation, "they are another Christ crucified ,. they have taken his task on themselves" (306-307). Catherine compared God's people united in charity by his providence to an orchestra. The Lord is the "maestros" and each person is an indispensable instrument. Without each of the otl~ers, no instrument,alone is sufficient. The more sweetness with which each one plays his or her instrument the gift of each one's own unique life--the more those who hear are allured by this music to the Lord. "Consider the glorious virgin Ursula," writes Catherine of the legend of Ursula and her companions. "She played her instrument'so sweetly she caught eleven thousand from the virgihs alone." The entire orchestra together is meant to grow more lovely in its sound, swelling to make this music worthy to fill heaven and earth with the praise of God. For those who trust in him, everything which happens in their lives is a gift f~rom God as a way of refining their instruments and rendering the music they play more beautiful. It is his infinite providence which cares for each one and all together, teaching each one what and how to play (311). The chain ofcharit~ with ,which the provident God has bound us to one another will not be loosed even in death. The life of heaven will be a rejoicing not only in him but in one another, and this very joy.will be a continual praise of his providence~ "I have so brdered their charity that no one simply enjoys his or her reward in this blessed life that is my gift without its being shared by the others." The joy of all adds to the joy of each, and the joy of each is the joy of .all (312). ~ To live one's life in trust is a gentle ~'0retaste on earth of the life of heaven. The fruit of trust in the proEidence of God is a joy and peace more secure than what human missteps and failures can destroy. The One who trusts learns to rejoice "in what she sees and experiences in herself and others," and finding joy ~in God's goodness to l~er, she learns to rejoice without jealousy in the goodness of God to others. She "is not afraid thaf she will lack the lesser things because by the light of faith she is guaranteed the greater things" (293). Conclusion For Catherine, trusting in the providence of God is not a spec~c kind of 32 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 "spiritual exercise,~ but the entire content of a life lived in 10ve. The more one lives in hope and trust, the more lavishly will God's providence in fact provide. To live in trust is not something mere human willing can attain; it is rather a gift the provident God most deeply wants to give, and for which he wants his people to ask. Catherine learned that what best nourishes trust is a good memory, a heart and mind that have learned to remember and to reflect upon the experiences of one's own life, and to find there the indisputable evidence of the personal and intimate providence of God. In this way, one's own unique life story becomes the inspiration and encouragement to ask for even deeper trust for the future. To trust in this way is not imprudence nor immatu(ity. It is, rather, a depth seeing which increasingly frees one's energies from inner forces inhibiting personal autonomy and mature interdependence. It entails the paradox of a radical inner poverty and inner contentment. To trust, in fact, is to live secure in the care of the one who can be trusted absolutely. It is to have the peace and freedom and courage to dare, to take risks inspired by the Holy Spirit. It is, ultimately, to have the heart to let go. It was not the fourteenth-century Catherine of Siena alone who had the personal call to live a life of trust in the providence of God. Today also, it is the witness of lives lived.in the maturity of trust in the one who alone is Lord over all, which perhaps will be the most radical statement a contemporary world will hear. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Christian Conversion: Suffering Out of Love John Navone, S.Z Father Navone is well known to our readers. The idea of this article is developed at much greater length in his recent Gospel Love: A Narrative Theology (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, Inc.). Father Navone is professor of biblical theology at the Gregorian's Spirituality Institute, where he may be addressed: Piazza della Pilotta, 3; 00187 Roma, Italy. In the seventeenth century, Samuel Crossman wrote that Christ in his passion has:° Love to the 16veless shown That they might lovely be. The passion story is both the good news of God's unconditional love for us as well as the mirror by which we can judge the authenticity of our own life and loves. It changes us from being °unlovely to being lovely (and loving) by showing us what true loveliness could be. Christ is the author and communicator of authentic communion with God. His claim that all authority belongs to him (Mt. 28:18; .In 17:2) and his communication of that authority to others are based on his power to transcend the limitations imposed by human desires and feelings to suffer freely and gladly out of love, When someone truly loves us, we respond to that love by investing our lover with the authority to initiate elements in our life story. When that love is absolute, as in the love of God for us, the absoluteness of that love claims an absolute authority. The story of Jesus reveals that God is Love, and it summons us to share in God's dynamic state of being-in-Love.I The trinitarian imagery of Scripture presents us with the symbolism of transcendent and unrestricted love where the persons are persons by virtue of their relationship to one another. ,iesus is the human incarnation of that loved and loving reiationship to God and the Spirit. Being-in-Love (Father) with 33 ~!4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 Jesus Christ (Son) entails our accepting a relationship to the Love that transcends every human Ioye.2 We, however, do not establish that relationship; it is given to us. We do not possess it by nature, so it cannot be taken for granted .3 Our self-deception is the failure to accept the gift of God's love and the call to be transformed into God's children in the Son. We merely pretend that our communion with God is authentic, that we share his being-in-Love, if we are not willing to undergo the suffering that is entailed in meeting the demands and total claims of Love. In meeting the demands of L6ve, suffering demonstrates our authentic acceptance of the gift of God's love. The sovereign transforming power of God's love, as opposed to self-love, is manifested in the sufferings of the just. The Drama of Suffering Love The Synoptic Gospels tell the story of Jesus as a drama in four acts. The first act prepares us for what is to come (Mt 3:1-4, ll= Mk l:l-13 = Lk 3:1-4:13); the second act tells the story.of Christ's ministry in Galilee (Mt. 4:12-18:35 = Mk 1:14-9:50 = Lk 4:14-9:50). In the third act Jesus journeys to Jerusalem (Mt 19:i-20:34 =. Mk 10:1-52 = Lk 9:51-18:43) while the fourth act tells the story of Christ's passion and resurrection. As in every good drama, the story invites the onlooker to join in the dramatic action. We are called to become actors within Christ's dramatic story rather than to remain as onlookers marveling at the drama of what is happening to someone else. The evangelists want their hearers to be trans-formed by authentically sharing Christ's life and his Spirit by dying and rising with him. The life of the Spirit is a sharing in the whole life of Jesus, his dying and rising, his self-emptying and his self-fulfilling glorification in God. We cannot be filled by the Spirit unless the self has been emptied to make room for the Spirit's gifts. The mystery of the Cross and resurr6ction expresses the true nature and power of Jesus' being-in-Love, the power and freedom to .be able to love to the end. The disciples, who share their Lord's de~tiny, are also called upon .to suffer. As his ,followers, we must expect suffering, rejection and persecution (Mk 8:34-35; Mt 10:24-25; Lk 6:22; 14:26-27; .In 12:25,26), for the kingdom of God that comes to us in the myster3) of Jesus Christ's dying and rising is a sign of contradiction. Fidelity to the Master means that the disciples must enter into the same struggle that Jesus entered to fulfill God's plan for creation. Opposition to Jesus is manifested within all his human contexts. Mark structures his Gospel to underscore human resistance to the arrival of the kingdom in the person, work and ministry of Jesus Christ. Society resists Jesus (l: 14-3:6)~ Pharisees and scribes, the leaders of the people, engage him in five controversies (~2:1-3:5) and decide to destroy him (3:6). His family, relatives and townspeople are disturbed by him (3:7-6:6), and they fear for his sanity (3:21). Despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own Christian Conversion / 35 house, he could work no miracle there (6:4:6). Jesus meets with the incompre-hension of his own disciples (6:6-8:33), and he rebukes them for not understanding the miracle of the loaves (8:17) or the necessity of his passion and death (8:31). Fidelity to the will of God meets with human resistance and incompre-hension. If the kingdom of God was ours by nature, Jesus would not encounter incomprehension, hostility and.rejection. His harmony with the will of God entails his disharmony.with all that is opposed to it. His being-in-Love entails his suffering and death out of love that all persons might be-in-Love. He loves his people, fami]3i, disciples and all others with whom his life, vision and mission are in conflict. He suffers out of love for them with the compassion that leads to his passion and death, in order that all might have the fullness of new life in the kingdom. Especially in Mark's story of Jesus, we see that as God's will for Jesus is being progressively fulfilled, he becomes increasingly unpopular until he dies alone--rejected and abandoned by all. Mark's narrative structure makes the theological point that God alone is the fulfilling origin, ground and destiny of Jesus Christ's living, dying and rising out of Love. The coming of the kingdom in the person of Jesus Christ is the ,revelation that God is in love with all human persons and summons them to become a new creation in God's Love. What is demanded of us is repentance and faith in his love given to us in his Beloved Son (Mk 1:11, 15; 9:7). Such repentance and faith entail the suffering out of Love which the Beloved Son himself experienced i.n his prayer at Gethsemane (~Mk 14:36). Jesus experiences suffering out of Love in every human context, the intra-personal as well as the interpersonal; this is evidence for the community of faith that the integrating center of his life transcends every human context. God's lordship in love is a creative goodness which makes others good. When God begins his reign as Father in Jesus Christ, all things are made new in his love,.all things are possible (Mk 10:27; 11:36; Mt 19:26; Lk 18:27). Conversion: Becoming Persons-in-Love Through the example of Jesus' being-in-Love, ~he Christian community sees that God compassionately demands all persons to find and accept their true fulfillment in the gift of his Love so that all might forever be persons-in- Love. God is not indifferent to what weare and become. To accept his love for all is to learn to suffer with his compassionate and passionate love for all, ¯ overcoming our intrapersonal and interpersonal tendencies to remain impersonal. The new life of the kingdom that is given to us in Jesus and his Spirit entails the suffering out of Love for others that manifests our being-in-Love with others. This new life transforms us by making us willing and glad to suffer for others in the service of the kingdom. In the context of the Last Supper, John's gospel implies that Jesus gladly and voluntarily lays down his life that his friends might know the joy of being able to do likewise. ~16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 True disciples love as the,Master loves. They share a life that is rooted'in God's community-creating love for all, the only love that constitutes the community of divine and human persons which lasts forever. True disciples have solidarity in that invincible love which, despite suffering and death itself, makes them glad to pour out their lives for others. They do not consider themselves to be martyrs or victims; rather, they suffer for others (divine and human) as true friends in the power of that love which alone grounds the eternal friendship that is life in the kingdom, Central to the notion of Christian conversion as suffering out of love is the fact that God wants all human persons to enjoy his life as their own. The gift of God's love is not so much a giving away as a sharing. In loving, God shares himself and all that he is. Jesus Christ enjoys the life and love of his Father; therefore, he is glad to suffer out of that love so that all human beings might share what he most cherishes. But what is perfect in the Master is imperfect in the disciple. The life that Jesus Christ fully enjoys is the life that his disciples are learning to enjoy. The disciple knows the Master to the extent that he or she enjoys the same life and is glad to suffer out of love to secure that life for others. The. solidarity of Master and disciple in suffering out of love for others consists in their enjoying and cherishing the life that they want others to enjoy. Christian conversion is not only an event but also a process that deepens this solidarity through fidelity to the grace and demand of God for responsible lives. Christian conversion, both as event and as process, is participation in the befriending love that Jesus Christ received and accepted from his Father as the integrating center of his life, mission and death for 6thers. Lived Christian conversion entails suffering out of a befriending love that affects all our conscious activities, directs our attention, pervades our imagination, release~ symbols that penetrate to the depths of our psyches, enriches our under-standing, guides our judgments, reinforces our decisions and motivates 0tii~ actions. To enjoy the transforming, benefit of God's befriending love in Jesus Christ and his Spirit implies a gratitude that actively accepts it and makes a religious and moral commitment to sharing it with others. Gratitude for the gift of God's befriending love reflects a humility that takes nothirig for granted. Such humility'brings an appreciation of others and a commitment to them, even when they are superficially unattractive. If we truly appreciate others, we are glad to suffer out of love for them and to befriend them as disciples of ~the Master who lived and died to make his joy ours and to make our joy complete (see Jn 15:11). Some Principles and Practical Points of Reference 1. Being-in-Love is the motivating power for suffering out of Love. 2. If, as Jesus reveals, God is befriending Love, being in befriending Love is the motivating power foi" suffering out of befriending Love for others. It makes us glad, despite difficulties, to befriend others. Christian Conversion 3. Suffering out of befriending Love for others is the self-transcending activity that frees us from self-absorption, self-pity and self-idolatry (i.e., from being impersonal). It frees us for the fulfillment that is being-in-Love with others (i.e,, for being personal). 4. For human beings to be fully personal is, ultimately, for them to be-in- Love befriending others. Sin is the refusal to be personal, the state of the impersonal subject. 5. In lived Christian conversion, suffering is not sought for its own sake; rather, it is embraced only when it is a condition for commitment to the grace and demand of God's befriending love. 6. If lived Christian conversion entails suffering out of befriending Love for others, suffering is not a univocal sign that something is wrong with a person. It may be, as the teaching of the beatitudes implies, the sign that something is profoundly right with a person. 7. We are not committed to persons or values for whom we are unwilling to suffer. We cannot suffer out of love for others when we have no love for them. 8. Being-in-Love is the efficacious ground of self-transcendence required to live responsibly and to be responsible to the pursuit of the truth, however difficult it may be to discover or to accept. It motivates the will to be responsible and to pay the pric.e of responsibility. 9. The fact that Jesus Christ was willing to suffe~ and die for us grounds the primary dogma that God loves us~ To sense that we are loved is to sense something that is true. It may be that imagination is involved in our sensation, but the truth of the dogma will stand. Being-in-Love and willing to suffer out of love for others should never be identified with the presence or absence of any particular feeling or sensation. Our faith and hope is in God, not in our feelings. 10. Because human beings leave something to be desired that God alone can fulfill, suffering out Of love is the condition for the possibility of friendship. Friendship (marriage, community, society, and more) disintegrates with the refusal to endure limitations arid deficiencies in others. Our incapacity for friendship is related to our unwillingness to be committed to others who do not fully gratify, support or console us. There is no lasting commitment to others apart from the willingness to suffer out of love for them. 11. Having time for others is a form of suffering out of love for them. Religious conversion implies that we are living in God's time, that we have the gift of his time for welcoming and listening to others. Consequently, we do not see others as taking or consuming our time; we are free for them to the extent that we are free from the illusion that the only time we have is our own. Prayer is a form of enjoying God's time and transcending our own. Some seldom find time to pray because they are living in their own time and do not want to lose it for life in God's time. The call to pray always is the call to be-in-Love and to live in God's time forever. Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 12. Sufferingout of love for others is a form of our self-investment in them. Inasmuch as communities are formed and held together by a common faith and hope, there is a community-creating and community-sustaining power and value in suffering out of faith, hope and love for others. 13. Inconveniencing ourselves for others is perhaps the most basic form of suffering out of love for others. Unwillingness to inconvenience ourselves for others is a reft~sal to be personal; it is the failure to befriend others at the most rudimentary level of everyday life. No possibility of a lasting commitment to others exists without our being willing to inconvenience ourselves for them daily. 14. The New Testament demand for human transformation through following Jesus' way of the cross should warn those who are tempted to reduce God to their own measure. The self-abandonment that God's befriending love required of Jesus Christ should correct our tendency to manipulate God. 15. Tothe extent that we are convinced that our importance is in God, as opposed to the illusion of an independent self-importance, we are equally convinced that all others have the same importance and are worthy of self-sacrificing and befriending love. The conviction that we exist because God loves us implies that we-find security and a sense of personal worth in God, rather than in the approval that others may choose to give us. 16. If God's will is done, all human persons will be in his kingdom. Our finite, limited, human love is inadequate to the challenge of loving all persons, apart from the gift of God's all-embracing, all-encompassing, all-sustaining, all-forgiving, all-reconciling and all-fulfilling love. His community-creating love for all is the origin and ground of life in the kingdom. 17. Love takes others seriously. How seriously we take others, according to the Judeo-Christian tradition, reveals how seriously we take God. It is the conviction of Jews and Christians that God takes all human persons seriously. How seriously God takes us is implied in the Christian affirmation that God is Love. We know that God is Love because he sent his only Son to live and die for us: We know that such Love transcends words because it embraces human living, suffering and dying. We know that we are truly loved and taken seriously by those who willingly share our living, suffering and dying. We discover the reality of our love for others in willingly doing likewise. NOTES ~See Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology. (London: Darton, Longrnan & Todd, 1971), passim, esp. pp. 105-122, 2Although Being-in-Love is the existence of the Father and Son and Spirit, I pareaihesize Father to highlight the filial relationship of Jesus as Son. 3See Charles Hefling's lntrduction to Frederick E. Crowe, The Lonergan Enterprise (Cambridge, MA: Cowley Publications, 1980), p. xvi. A Clump of Lichen and Me Kathleen Gallas, OS.B. Sister Gallas is Food Service Director at the Sacred Heart Convent and Conference Center, where she may be addressed: P.O. Box 488; Cullman, AL 35056-0488. What ig contemplative life? Why the nuclear arms race? Why the environ-mental devastation? In the aftermath of "The Day After" my reflectivd moments pondered these seemingly unrelated questions. A combination of spiritual reading, n~ws magazines and discussions on the American Catholic Bishops' Pastoral On Peace surfaced this assortment of questions. While pon-dering the last two questions there eventually came over me a sense of futility. What can any one p.erson do to change the course of events toward possible destruction of life and environment? It can even be questioned as to what will destroy what firs!! Even if there' is a nuclear disarmament it will only be a matter of time before life is destroyed through our irresponsible use of environ-ment and our exploitation of peoples around the world as though they were so many pins on a chart. The question of contemplative life I pondered as an altogether different kind of issue. Ordinarily when one speaks or hears of contemplative life and of contemplative prayer, it is understood in terms describing activities limited to a select few. Contemplative life involved Contemplative prayer, and anyone experiencing contemplative prayer was undoubtedly living a contemplative life--which usually meant living a vowed religious life. Neither combination is necessarily true, nor the total meaning. My own convictions saw a distinction between contemplative life and contemplative prayer. Mother Mary Clare, S.L.G., in her book, Encountering the Depths, gives a difference. "Contempla-tive prayer can be experienced, if God wills it, in any such circumstance as he sees fit to bestow, while contemplative life is the life so directed in its simplicity, and separated from the normal distraction of the active world, that it provides the best preparation for carrying out the work of contemplative prayer." How- 411 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 ever, as Thomas Merton said, "Not all who are vowed contemplative religious experience contemplative prayer." After a while I found myself considering the word contemplative as separated from the terms life and prayer. By itself I couldn't limit the meaning of contemplative to a few but asked the question if being contemplative wasn't a dimension of being human, and therefore per-taining to everyone. What is it to be contemplative? This assortment of questions unexpectedly came together and found its own kind of answer in an experience 1 had on a January afternoon. Everything I had been meditating within the context of each of the three basic questions surfaced and synthesized an experience with a clump of lichen. I had been pondering these questions separately without any thought of relating them. However, my experience of lichen gave me the insight that in actuality the answer to the question of what is contemplative life was the foundation to answering the other questions--and all other questions concerning peace, justice and harmony in our relationships with each other and our environment. I am standing at my special place on a particular hillside with an Alabama version of mountains before me evoking the line: "I lift my eyes to the moun-tains from where comes my help--the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth." At my feet is a clump of gray-green lichen with red dots. Flowers? To see them eye to eye I have to lie on my stomach. Then do I see. The lichen grew finger-like projections and each finger tip is painted red. There am I on the ground "eyeballing" a lichen's painted finger nails! At first I laugh at myself. Then at us, the~lichen~and me. I talk to it. "Aren't we a crazy pair? Somehow, this is a fun moment, isn't it? We share a secret, you and I. Others might question my sanity if I were to tell them of our secret delight in each other. However, there must be others like us, for Goethe back in the eighteenth century said: 'Tell no man, tell wise men only, for the ~vorld might count it madness'," My deepest intuitions say that I am not mad in having fun seeing and listening ~ith a clump of lichen. After a while the humor of the situation shifts in mood to a sense of wonder, fascination and appreciation of so tiny a bit of color on a January day. In this Garden of Eden setting comes the urge to pick up this clump of lichen and bring it home to the prayer room--a winter flower for the Lord. But no! in my position of lying stomach flat to th~ earth comes the awareness that I am hugging great Mother Earth who in Greek mythology was named Gaia--a name personalizes and effects a deeper relationship. Gaia and I became one in this°moment--a moment of union. She and I are gift to each other from our God, the maker of heaven and earth. There is the vista before me, t_he clump of lichen below me, and myself. We are responsible to each other and for each other. So, I am one human being and this under my eyes is roughly a 3 x 4 inch clump of lichen. Yet this clump of lichen and I represent a microcosm of life on planet earth. On the one hand it could be said what harm done to pull up this clump +sp~cially with the motive of offering? But how thoughtless and insensitive to Gaia who needs this clump of lichen to maintain nature's balance A Clump of "~chen and Me / 41 so that I might live comfortably. To be fruitful and multiplyr fill the earth and stibdue it doesn't mean that I ravage it, pollute it, coerce it for my own selfish needs and even worse, under the guise of something good. Whose good? How often our God voiced that he spurned such offerings. Some would say that I have done no harm to another human being in pulling up this clump. But I have. Even if it is in innocence, the innocence of thoughtlessness; I have harmed another in contr!buting to making earth an unfit place to live. Gaia is upset. Mother Nature reacts and there can eventu-ally come a separation, a divorce. I could be a contributing cause in the erosion of this hillside. In being responsible to Gala and for Gala I am also responsible to all other human beings. Each of us is responsible to the other for maintaining a harmonious relationship with Gaia who will respond accordingly. In this total economy of life no one human being is insignificant. Neitheris this clump of red-dotted lichen by my side. Just now 1 suddenly recall a long-forgotten story, The Little Prince. The fox is explaining to the prince what it means .to be tamed. "It means to establish ties." "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world." We were asked to subdue the earth, Wouldn't "to subdue" mean "to tame'~. To establish ties, to create a need for each other? To instill a reverence for the uniqueness of each other? In lying flat on the ground face to face with a clump of lichen, I felt an. interrelatedness. The lichen and I were one. My body pressed to the body of earth were one. As far as the eye could see there was not another clump of lichen to be seen amidst the variety of winter-colored plant life. Yet there was the awareness that while this was so on the immediate level, there was also an awareness on another level that the earth was populated with the likes of me and the likes of this lichen. Each was one in the many and the many in the one. I knew an interrelatedness with all in the universe that was human. The lichen would'feel the same with its kind. However, the sense of harmony, the expe-rience of0neness-and-manyness wasn't limited to recognizing this in our sepa-rateness of plant and human, for at the same time there was the feeling of Oneness with each 6ther. The lichen and I knew a oneness with each other as well as a oneness in the manyness of us. Lichen and me. Plant life and human life. Mother Earth Gaia and me, Gaia and the manyness of me. Each and speaks of union. Each and speaks of a union that is life-creating, life-giving, life-supporting. This life with a small "1" could only be because of the gratu-itous, unfathomable love that is Life with a capital "L." It is from the Life and in this Life that the lichen and I have life. We are gifts to each~ other, responsible to each other from the Gift that is Life--maker of heaven and earth. A dialogue from another story, The Farthest Shore, by Ursula LeGuin Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 speaks of this responsibility. The wise magus explains to his young companion the meaning and responsibility of personal choice. "On every act the balance of the whole depends. The winds and seas, the powers of water and earth and light, all that these do, and all that the beasts and green things do, is well done, and rightly done. All these act within the Equilibrium. From the hurricane and the great whale's sounding to the fall of a dry leaf and the .gnat's flight, all they do is done within the balance of the whole. But we, insofar aswe have power over the world and over one another, we must learn to do what the leaf and the whale and the wind do of their own nature. We must learn to keep the balance. Having intelligence, we must not act in ignorance. Having choice, we must not act without responsibility." When did we become responsible for each other? In the beginning of , creation Life hovered over the darkness of the deep and breathed over the waters of the abyss. God said, "Let there be . " With each word of God, each breath of Life a living being was created. Gaia is a living being. This clump of lichen is a living being. I am a living being. Within each resides the breath of Life uniting us as one. Gaia and this clump of lichen act unconsciously accord-ing to their nature. The breath of Life that brought me into being included the freedom of choice. But "having choice, we must not act without responsibility." However, if I am not awakened in eye and heart to that breath of Life within me then my actions are likely to be irresponsible and contrary to the nature Life intended me as a ruler of myself and of the earth. Only if I am awake to this Life breathing within me will I be able to make responsible choices that will be in harmony with all other beings until All is in all, a union of One, a oneness in the manyness. Frederick Franck in his Book of Angelus Silesitis says: "For the awakened.spirit there is no longer a split between 'I' and 'other'." Meister Eckhart asks, "When is a man in mere understanding?" "When he sees one thing as separated from another." "And when isa manabove mere under-standing? . When a man sees All in all, then a man stands beyond mere understanding." Until one is awakened to the Life within there is no unfolding, no con-sciousness that this clump of lichen and I are responsible to each other, gifts to each other for all others in our oneness. Thoughtlessness, insensitivity, ihgrati-tude to the gift of oneself and the gift of each other have compounded to the magnitude of global disaster at the exp.ense of all that represents the lichen and me. In our insecurities and lack of appreciation of each other's unique gifted-ness-- everything that makes up heaven and earth--we have become envious and greedy. In our drive to be number one in whatever area of life, individually and nationally, we have lost sight of our interconnectedness. We have forgot-ten that the world is round'and not fiat. In our linear vision of life we have forgotten that there is a Center that links us as spokes in a wheel. In our fears and insecurities we can be likened to the schoolyard bullies easily provoked when our power position is threatened. In the global schoolyard we clench nuclear warheads. ° A Clump of Lichen and Me / 43 Or? I was about to pull up the clump of lichen to use as an offering and a decoration but I didn't because ~of an awareness that each of us is connected to a Center and interdependent. But on a global level we have those who thought-lessly, selfishly ravage the earth's peoples and places as so many clumps of lichen and for a variety of reasons--least of all, offering and decoration. On the other hand, when done out of offering and decoration it is far more devastating. It is said that greed brings out the animal in us but that isn't true. Animals act according to their nature as designed when breathed,into life. ,~ dog gnawing on his bone is not envious of the dog next to him chewing on a steak. Each is content. Humans in their greed that becomes exploitation of all living beings act contrary to even animal nature in wanting both, their own and what others have. ~ I feel that my experience with the lichen spoke to the fundamental ques-tion, what is contemplative life--what is it to be contemplative? Am I off the track? I don't think so.-It is for each of us to live life moment by moment deliberately, reflectively, consciously, reverently; awarely, thoughtfully, prayer-fully. The majority claim that this isn't possible. But why not? Walter Burg-hardt in his book Season that Laugh and Weep_:quotes his friend William McNamara in defining contemplative as "a long loving look at the real." Burghardt goes on to explain the "real~" Reality is living, pulsing people; reality'is fire and water;~reality is the sun setting over the Poconos and a gentle doe streaking through the forest; reality is a ruddy glass of Burgundy, Beethoven's Mass in D, a child lapping a chocolate iee-crearn cone; reality is a striding woman with wind-blown hair; r~ality is Christ Jesus. Contemplation~is not an abstraction "where a leaf is no longer green, water no longer ripples, a woman is no longer soft, and God no longer smiles." He goes on to say, "This real I 'look' at. I no longer analyze it or argue it, describe or define it; I am one with it. I do not move around it; I enter into it." When one enters into it one becomes one with it. I am that at which I give a long loving look. Sense of separateness disappears.in the embrace. I am convinced that this capacity is within each of us.As I am writing and ponder-ing this (now a summer morning) I'm aware 0fa buzzing fly. The window has a space between outside glass and .inside screen. The fly flew in by the open middle section. It is now buzzing and frantically dashing itself at the top section of panes. This has been going on for over an hour. If it would just stop long enough to take a long loving look at the reality of its situation, it would come to know that the next set of panes is open. The fly would be free to become one with all that is outside the barrier of closed upper-window panes. To be contemplative is a dimension within each of us that must be responded to in order to live in harmony with one's self, with each other, with Gaia. That dimension is there enabling us to be free, but like the fly we frantically dash our lives on window panes of our own choosing. In all the ceaseless buzzing and frantic dashing about we fail to "see" that the next set of panes is op.en which would free us to be one with all we see but interact with through the glass of 44 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1985 fears and insecurities. We are gifts to each other.~As human beings breathed into existence each of us is endowed with gifts we hold in common as well as those unique to each. Gifts can remain latent or be 'used intelligently ~nd responsibly. But this is an unfolding and a growing that starts from a beginning. In the beginning God created the heavens and earth. In the beginning was the Word. In the begin-ning life breathed. The very words "in the beginning" suggest that there is a past, a present and a future. We all have beginnings and are now in process toward endings. But life is a spiral of beginnings and endings gradually open-ing us to greater circumferences. Beginnings proceed to endings only to find that endings become new beginnings. Life is breathing, bringing us to an expanding awareness and fullness. However time past and time future ismean-ingful if I live the now moment attentively, patiently, caringly, lovingly. Other-wise the clump of lichen is just a clump of lichen to be trampled on or pulled up indifferently, carelessly--for there are no established ties. Again, theqittle prince and the fox: "What must I do, to tame you" asked the little prince? "You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me--like that--in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day." In my experience on that January'day, the lichen and I tamed each other. Ties were established revealing secrets visibly to the heart. As I was walking back home filled with the fullness of Life, pain and sorrow entered. I could identify with St. Francis who cried because Love is not loved. Along the roadside was the trash 6f beverage cans and fast-food restau-rant containers. This marring of the creation of heaven and earth is evidence of a lack of awareness of the meaning of life breathing within all created things. Most of the trash along our highways are food containers betraying the pace and emptiness of our lives. Many people claim they are too busy to eat' reflectively, appreciatively, companionably and as an undivided activity. Too busy to take "long loving looks at the real." Busy-ness reflects an emptiness or a fife lived in qu~intity not quality until it becomes a frantic dashing about. There is not the patience to live the now moment attentively, undividedly. From just considering the kinds of trash I saw along the way, it seems that eating has become something we do while in the process of doing something else, on our way to somewhere else--all activities of another kind that are not entered into fully either. Our attention is fragmented; when the activities of each moment are multiple and experienced indifferently and randomly, as a ¯ necessary activity to get over with, it is a natural consequence to open the window of the car and carelessly toss out the trash on the landscape which goes unnoticed. The fox upon saying goodby to the prihce imparts his secret. "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." "It is the time you have wasted for another that makes this tamed one so important'. Men have forgotten this truth but you must not forget it. You A Clump of Lichen and Me / 45 become responsible forever, for what you have tamed." What is it to be contemplative? Whether described as "a long loving look at the real" or "time you have wasted for another," it is a time consumption that a pragmatic materialistic society rejects because for them time and life are mea-su~- ed in terms of money--cash and flow. The contemplative dimension that enables us to be truly human is there but lost. From still another source, Tom Brown, a woodsman taught by an Apache Indian, describes in his book, The Search, his conviction of the contemplative dimension. There is a place I know where everything lives in harmony. Nothing is envied, stolen, or killed. Instead, everything is shared. The land is everyone's and no one's. Life is sacred there. A dweller in this place thinks highly of human life because he lives so close to the earth. He understands his part in the scheme of nature and is not lost or searching for himself. Where is this place? Does it really exist? Yes. It is within me and can be within you. It is a state of mind; it is an awareness; it is an appreciation; it is an understanding; it is a commitment to life. It is the realization that everything I described is all about us every day of our lives, but we miss it. We are blind to the beauty of a sunset, deaf to the music of the wind, callous to rough bark and soft grass. We speak of salaries and war instead of singing songs of life. We taste the bitterness of pollution and miss the sweetness of wild honeysuckle. We smell bus fumes but never the apple blossoms or clover flower. Life is manufactured and marketed. It is, for many of us, something to be bought or sold, and the more we pay, the better off we feel we are. Empty, untamed and fragmented lives are not awakened to the Life within. There is no awareness of interconnectedness, of taming and being tamed. There is no awareness that the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth and everything therein, is at the center of his universe and the center of each of us. One indifference leads and escalates into another: trash out the window by individuals, pollution and exploitation of land, sea and sky by industry, oppression of people around the world by political systems. If lives were lived contemplatively to what is essential and visible to the eye of the heart, then it would be realized that no being is insignificant because each o

Issue 28.4 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering s.hould be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Db.'inity of Saitxt Louis University, the editorial ottices 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 ~) 1969by REvIr:W. voR REt.mlOt:S at 428 East Preston Street; Bahimore, Mary-land 2t202. Printed in U,S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices, Single copies: $1,00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two .years; othei countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where ac¢om. panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW VOR 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 FOR RELIGIOUS ; 421:1 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MarTland 2120'2. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOL'S; 612 Humbold t 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 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 4 SISTER ELAINE MARIE PREVALLET, S.L. Reflections .on . Pr a and Religious Renewal It is fairly commonplace today that in all the talk of religious renewal the most neglected area is that of prayer. One might hazard the guess that this area is one of the most basic and most in need of rethinking and genuine renewal; one might also hazard the guess that people do not talk in depth about it because they do not know what to say. Like other areas of.renewal, there is question of what can be changed and what must remain. iEqually, there is growing realization that it will not be su~ient, to change the horarium and the outward form ur:less there is also renewal of the inner dynamic of /, prayer. To change structure may indeed be the likeliest ',,.¢-,way to achieve the change in process and attitude. If that is so, as the structure begins to change, new develop-ments in our understanding of prayer may arise from the life and experiences of renewal-minded religious com-munities during the next decade. What will be needed, however, is much sharing of and reflection upon the experience of religious, and sensitivity to new insights into the character of their prayer. We shall attempt here only to indicate some general areas of difficulty or de-velopment which characterize our present situation; Two observations may be in order at the outset. First, the difficulty with the concept of prayer is no doubt due to the pace and noise of modern society; but it is, I believe, more largely due to the crisis of faith which characterizes our age. When the basic notion of God is under so much scrutiny, and when one finds so much un-certainty as to the meaning and validity of believing in God at all, then obviously the concept of pra~e.r cannot remain untouched. For the nature and meaning of prayer will be determined by the character or concept of the one to whom one prays. Even though our under-standing of God must be constantly changing and growing, yet it must be in some fundamental way secure 4- Sister Elaine Ma-rie, S.L. is the chairman ol the de-partment of theol-og~ at Loretto Heights College; 3001 South Fed-eral; Denver, Colo-rado. 802S6:!2, ~ VOLUME :28, 1969. ÷ ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 532 in faith. If we are not sure of God or it we do not know what our relationship to Him is, we cannot, be sure ot praye~---whether we should pray or how much we should pray. Hence, the difficulties in prhyer are closely tied to difficulties in faith.1 Secondl), it seems to me an unnecessary obfuscation of the issue to speak ot work as prayer. Prayer must, ot course, have an intimate connection with life and must therefore be related to work; but it aids neither our understanding nor our prayer to say that work is prayer. Prayer, as I shall refer to it, contains an essential com-ponent ot consciousness, reflection; it includes what has traditionally been named meditation. It may indeed occur that one prays--reflects upon meanings and values in the light ot the gospel message or one's understand-ing ot God--while one works. But to equate the two seems to me to be playing with words, the result being the loss ot the meaning ot prayer. Reflection takes time, effort, concentration. We are not a patient society, not used to being quiet; we are used to looking tot quick pragmatic results. Prayer demands patience and quiet; and it will often produce no immediate, demonstrable result. Hence, the tendency is to want to leave prayer aside, and one way ot doing this is simply to make facile verbal equation between work and prayer. The;~is~ sue is then quickly settled. When we are lett to our own in the matter that is, it we have provided no set time or place or fre-y.~] quency-~our experience will probably be that prayer will, sooner or later, simply drop out ot the picture. It will be pushed out by more immediate demands, more concrete "work to do." Yet it seems essential that the lives ot religious have a dimension ot depth and that religious themselves have what might be called a con-sciousness ot ultimacy. They must have a certain steady perspective, a clear focus. They must have this, not just for themselves, but [or others, as part of their service. Yet, in the immediacies that make up daily living, perspective and focus are easily lost; depth quickly turns shallow and empty. It seems necessary, then, to provide for oneself time and quiet to ponder meanings and values in the light ot the gospel message or in the light o[ one's understanding ot God. It is necessary to deepen one's understanding o[ faith, to reflect on the meaning ot God's loving presence. Finding God in prayer is a necessary concomitant to recognizing His presence in XA good treatment of this situation is given by Douglas Rhymes, Prayer in the Secular City (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1967), espe-cially pp. 12-25. all things. Obviously, this is saying nothir~g new. It is simply reasserting the value of balancing action with contemplation.2 Let us now consider some perspectives which may prove valuable to the development of prayer at the present time. Christianity and Personalism From all sides we become aware that we are living in an age of "the person," an age which has a new realiza-tion of the value, the uniqueness, the importance of the human person. In this context, Christianity shows itself as eminently propounding the value of the human per-son: the Christian revelation of God as Trinity is, after all, a revelation of God as personal, as communicating Persons. The Incarnation speaks of the personal love of God for man and His desire to be in communion with man; the Resurrection of Christ speaks of the continuing possibility for man to be in personal communion with God through the humanity of Christ. These three central dogmas of the Christian mystery indicate that man's re-lationship with God is a deeply personal one, allowing whatever is deepest and most unique in each man to find its expression and its fulfillment in his relationsh.ip with the Divine Persons. If we seek to understand prayer, therefore, we may well begin with simply this affirmation of man as person and God as Persons. We may move from that to a second affirmation, equally involving the dimensions of person, and speak of presence. For the possibility of being per-sonally present to another is one of the highest preroga: tives of man. Here again the Trinity speaks of personal presence as belonging to God Himself; the Incarnation speaks of the presence of God to man in Christ, and the Resurrection speaks of the continuing presence of the risen Christ to His followers. If we wish a basis for personal prayer, we need no other starting point than these fundamental Christian affirmations. We can under-stand personal prayer as involving the presence of the Three Persons who are God, and, most especially, the presence of the risen Christ. To be conscious of this presence requires faith, but also deliberate effort--time and concentration--to reflect upon the faith-datum and its significance. ~ We do not wish to assert priorities here; it is not a case of either/or, but of both/and. Equally, we do not wish to deny that when faith is deeply lived, there need be no disjunction, between work and prayer. But given our human situation, it seems safe to say, minimally, that thought is necessary for finding and maintain-ing meaning and perspective. -:;- ", -- 4- ÷ ÷ Prayer and Renewal VOLUME 28, 1969 Sister Elain~ Mari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Individual Prayer We can move from here to ask what characterizes the relationship between the risen Christ and the believer, and therefore what the qualities of prayer will be.~ We can treat these briefly under the headings of love, need, and thanksgiving. If we examine any love relationship, we will find that it always involves a personal petition to be accepted and loved by the other. Hence love always involves prayer to the other--a petition, implicit or explicit, for under-standing, for acceptance--simply for communion. In the last analysis, what any such prayer seeks is com-munion of heart and mind, reconciliation of under-standing and wills. Expressed simp!y, we want to be one with the person to whom we are praying:' we want him to understand our prayer, and we want to understand him as he receives our prayer. It is here that meditation on the life of Christ in the Gospels finds its importance. For the risen Christ now is the same Christ who lived the inciden~ ts portrayed in the Gospels; He is now, as it were, the result of the experiences which He assimilated dur-ing His earthly life. The mysteries of His life on earth live on in Him, and they must be entered into by any-one wishing to know Him as He is now. To use an analogy: I am as I am now because of what has hap-pened to me in the past. Anyone who wants to under-stand me deeply ~nust understand certain of the signifi-cant experiences that have formed me, have given my life direction. And in the measure that another under-stands in a deep and compassionate way my past, in the measure that another has been able to enter into my past, to experience it with me, the other will under- Stand me. So in our attempt to come to union of heart and mind with Christ: insofar as we penetrate the experience de-picted in the gospel, we come to understand the living Christ who is now as He is because of those experiences. If we want to know the Christ whom we are petitioning, then we will need to know Him through the Gospels.* Further, in any love relationship, the one whom we love finally determines both the character and the con-tent of a prayer; in some sense then, the one addressed in prayer has a major role in creating the prayer. We * Much of the following is drawn from M. Nddoncelle's analysis in God's Encounter with Man (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964). * For a more detailed and carefully nuanced presentation of the place of contemplation of the Gospels in Christian life, see David Stanley, "Contemplation of the Gospels, Ignatius Loyola, and the Contemporary Christian," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), pp. 417--45. will ask for what the one petitioned can give, and we will ask it in a way we know to be acceptable to him. Reflection upon this will perhaps give a direction for thinking about the questions so often posed these days: why should I pray? for what should I pray? If one re-flects that the one receiving the petition is God, loving and personal, then one might conclude that one could ask God for anything, for nothing is impossible to Him. However, if one considers more deeply the person of Christ, and, knowing Christ, knows also His deepest concerns, then one would be led to pray not for trivia but to seek in prayer a communion in His concerns. The Christ of the Gospels has as His deep concern the genuine well-being of men, their relationships, their dignity, their fulfillment. Our prayer, then, if it really considers the one petitioned and seeks communion with Him, will result in a sharing in His concern for men, communion in His outlook with respect to the needs of men, communion of understanding of the Christian task. Thus, if we have sought genuine com-munion with Christ, our prayer will impel us outward-- to meet the needs o£ the neighbor. This means also that we need not leave behind or abstract from our own daily living and working in prayer, but rather that we try to come to see how Christ's concern, His outlook, His understanding, can be translated by us into our con-crete situations. From the other side, the one petitioned would want to understand us as we approach him in prayer--why we pray, what its content means, and to respond in the way that will fulfill the deepest need of the one praying. Love does not refuse the petition of love, yet must be at liberty to answer as love knows best. Hence prayer can never be an effort at manipulation; it can never seek to use the other as the instrument of its own advance. Love approaches the autonomy of the other, approaches him freely and leaves the other free in response. Again, then, love is seeking nothing so much as communion; it is entering into the myster~ of the other, it is allowing two freedoms to meet, it is allowing its own develop-ment to be charted by the free response of the other. Prayer will accordingly always contain an element of surrender. But we can approach prayer also from the angle of existential human need. To seek communion with an-other is really to seek to fulfill a deep human need--the need to come to terms with human existence as incom-plete, to free oneself from self-sufficiency. To recognize one's own need, to approach another in need is, con-trary to our tendency to sufficiency, deeply human and + Prayer and Renewa! VOLUME 28, 1969 Sister Elaine Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 536 deeply fulfilling. To pray to another is to offer oneself as apprentice, to be willing to learn, to admit that we do not know or cannot do, that we are not in complete mastery of the course of our destiny, that we do not always perceive the meaning of events. Being ready to admit our insufficiency and approaching Christ to try to see things as He sees them, to seek thus a reconciliation of our mind and heart with His is already fulfilling an existential demand: that we, humanly, are limited, are needy, that we find fulfillment only in communion. To pray, then, belongs to the truth of human nature; it is an impulse that genuinely expresses and fulfills a deep need of human existence. The attitudes of love and of need come together in the basically Christian prayer of thanksgiving. For we turn to Christ as the effective sign that we are loved by God, that His love has touched our humanity and opened it. In relationship with Him we recognize that our human need is not a burden but a joy, the joy of being creatures, the joy of being redeemed and accepted as sons of a loving Father. In Christ, then, we need not make a pre-terise of sufficiency but can freely and lovingly admit our need and turn to him for acceptance, for a perspective which is fuller than our own and can complete and cor-rect it. Because we are creatures in need, yet because He lives to be in loving communion with us, our prayer of need is already thanksgiving. For our deepest existential need is to be accepted and loved as we are and thus brought to transcend ourselves. Communion with God in Christ can do this in a way that no human communion can. It is Christ who most fully recognizes and accepts the human condition as creaturely, as unredeemed, and who exists only to meet us "where we are," and to bring us beyond ourselves to the Father. When we turn to Christ in prayer, it is then already thanksgiving that He is there, that He knows us and loves us as .we are, that we can be in communion with Him. Community Prayer What distinguishes community prayer from individual personal prayer is, obviously, the presence of the com-munity. But this factor can provide us with some ma-terial for reflection. We may start with the premise that each individual has been touched and loved by God; each is uniquely related to God in Christ. Further, each individual has his own gift for the building up of the Body of Christ. For a community to be a community in any profound Christian sense, there must be among the members a sensitivity to the part played by each, an ap-preciation of the unique gift which, each possesses, a willingness to help each other be what he or she is in- tended to be. There must be a sense of belonging to each other, of being for each other, of affecting each other by what each says and does and is. There must be, then, some sense of communion. It is perhaps precisely the phenomenon of the com-munity that has been neglected in our previous methods of community prayer. If we take seriously the presence of Christ in each other, then .we have to admit that each member of the community may be a "word" of Christ to us. Community prayer might well include some oppor-tunity to listen to the word of Christ from within the community. This would presuppose that the members approach community prayer with the mentality of being "present" to each other, as well as to God; it would mean that we make some effort to be conscious and aware of the others with us at prayer, instead of regard-ing them as a source of distraction. The community at prayer adds a new dimension--the presence of Christ in each other--to our way of approaching Him in prayer. One might, in this context, suggest that some of the prayer we address to Christ ought, in fact, to be a prayer to the community. A prayer of loneliness, of weariness, of discouragement, might more practically be met by Christ in the community than by Christ addressed ver-tically. This implies, of course, great openness among the members of the community, sensitivity and receptivity to human needs. The basis for such prayer can be seen in this passage from Origen: Take the case of a man who is of the number of those who have acquired more than sufficient of the needs of life and charitably hears the request of a poor man who petitions God for his wants. It is clear that this man too will accede to the petition of the poor man. For he obeys the will of the Fa-ther who brings together .at the time of prayer the one who prays and the other who can grant the prayer and cannot, because of God's kindly provision, ignore the needs of the former. We must not, therefore, think that when these things hap-pen they happen by chance. For He who has numbered all the hairs on the head of the saints brings together in harmony at the time of prayer both him who can do a service, giving ear to him who is in need of His benevolence, and the one who devoutly prays? God answers men's prayer by bringing the community together so that men may, in Christ, meet the needs presented there. One may, evidently, speak one's need-- or in other words, pray--to Christ through the commu-nity, and it is in this way that He answers one's prayer. To do this in the explicit context of Christian prayer ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer and Renewal sOrigen, Prayer, xi, 4-5; translated in Origen: Prayer, Exhorta- VOLUME tion to Martyrdom, trans. John J. O'Meara (Westminster: Newman, 1954), pp. 45-6. 537 REVIEW FOR RELI@IOUS 5S8 seems to provide a genuine opportunity of deepening one's faith in the presence of Christ in the community, as well as drawing attention to our responsibility to meet the needs of others--an end toward which prayer to Christ must always lead us. Further, it is our human experience of what it means to be related as persons that is always our prime analo-gate for understanding our relationship with God in Christ. Community prayer may provide us with deep experiences of what it means to be persons in commu-nity, and therefore might greatly aid our understanding of what we mean when we speak of God as Persons, or of the Trinity, Community prayer will be improved, it seems, if we consider it not only as individuals gathering to recite together the same prayer, but as individuals gathering, sensiti~ce to and aware of each other, to say who they are together: that they have common desires, common needs, a common faith. They can profess at once their faith in God and in each other, their trust in God and in each other. They may gather to say to God and to each other that they are sinful, that they need forgiveness from God and from each other. They may listen and respond together to Scripture or to other readings that would bring them together in communion with Christ in heart and mind, and in communion of conviction and purpose with respect to their task in the world. We do not wish to deny the value of structured com-munal forms of prayer such as the Divine Office. These can provide a welcome balance for the more personal, subjective form suggested above. We wish only to sug-gest that on occasion some way of acknowledging and being aware of the presence of each other in prayer may be an important factor in preventing community prayer from becoming formalized, and may be a way of keeping ~t relevant to the life and needs of the community. It becomes, then, a means of growth in faith and in love both for God and for each other, and thus a means of really creating genuine Christian community. If individ-ual prayer seeks communion of heart and mind with Christ or the persons of the Trinity, then community prayer must have as an added aim a communion of heart and mind with the community. It seems obvious that this is somewhat difficult if nothing is done to make one aware of the presence and needs of the community members. Community prayer must aim at making a conscious community in Christ--by sharing in ioy and sorrow, need and suffering with each other, in the presence of Christ. A community becomes a community precisely by acknowledging needs and praying to and for each other. A community, then, comes together to pray, but it is also formed into a genuine and meaningful commu-nity through its sharing in prayer. From a different angle, reflection upon our experience of the community indicates that all members of a reli-gious community do not have the same gift of prayer. Given the premise that each individual has his own gift for the building up of the Body of Christ, it seems evi-dent that some individuals are, by temperament and by gift, more disposed to prayer-.and reflection than others. Perhaps this is an area where the fruits of one's gift for the Body must be seen in a communal context: that if' we have in our community someone with a gift for prayer, we all share in the benefits of his or her reflec-tion, his prayerfulness. This in no way dispenses the other members not so gifted from any effort in this direc-tion. Each person must be concerned about acquiring the dimension of depth in his faith life, must be con-cerned about communion of heart and mind with Christ. Yet if it is our experience that even in religious commu-nities all do not have the same gift, we may profit from trying to understand that experience. All must be sensitive to this gift in their midst, ap-preciate it, and encourage its development. Equally, all can benefit from those who do have a special gift of prayer. But this implies that the one so gifted must be openhearted enough to share his insights and reflections, for this is part of the responsibility connected with the gift of prayer as contributing to the building up of the Body of Christ. Doubtless we need to reflect more deeply upon the matter of responsibility to and for the gift of prayer. No prayer is purely individual. All prayer be-longs to and is at the service of Christian community. Sacramental Prayer Sacramental prayer may now be ,seen as incorporating and epitomizing all the elements present in other forms of prayer. Christ is present to each individual who par-ticipates in sacramental action; each is uniqt~ely re-lated to Him. The community is also present--present there to each other and to God. Christ is present in the community. But He is also present, acting through the symbols used in sacramental action. Here, once again, we need to be conscious not only of ou.r vertical relationship to Him, but also of the other members of the community, aware of them and present to them. We need, further, to be conscious of how Christ is present in sacramental signs: we need to have reflected deeply upon the natural meanings involved in each of the sacramental signs, but also upon their specific Christian meaning, shared and understood by the com-munity. For Christ will act toward us according to the meaning of these signs. Each sign says something to us ÷ Prayer and Renewal~ VOLUME~281 1969, ".~ + ÷ ÷ Sister Eioine Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 as individuals loved and touched by God, but also to us as a community. Sacraments are occasions when we gather as a community to celebrate, in specific, signify-ing ways, God's loving us and His acting through Christ in our midst. Ideally, then, sacramental action should include some opportunity for explicit awareness of the community. How this may be done with greatest effectiveness may vary. A communal celebration of penance might include, individual "prayer" to the community, or the commu-nity's praying together to acknowledge its communal blindness, inertia, and negligence, its need for forgive-ness, for Christ's redeeming love. It might include some action or gesture to signify forgiveness of one another as mediating, along with the sacramental sign, the forgive-ness of Christ. The Eucharistic prayer is more easily recognized as communal, since our eating of the one bread and drink-ing of the one chalice say that we already share, in Christ, a communion of life with Him and with each other. The signs of food, and Christ's presence to us through these signs, as well as the presence of the com-munity there, both say that we are creatures who need the sustenance and nourishment of faith and hope and love; we need this nourishment from Christ, but also from one another. This is eminently the sacrament of thanksgiving, as we return to God, in and with Ghrist, all that we have and are. The Eucharist is in a very real sense the highest point of our prayer, both individual and communal; it is the culminating point of our presence to and communion with Christ and the Chris-tian community. It should be an occasion of real cele-bration of our community in Christ. More thought will need to be given to the matter of celebrating, and how our awareness of each other, of our community, can be given recognition in Eucharistic celebration. Conclusion This is obviously only a sketch of some lines along which we might watch for development in the prayer life of religious communities. There is urgent need that religious be convinced of the value of prayer and de-termined to realize its value and meaning in forms suit-able for our times and within the thought patterns of our age. We have undertaken the task of wholesale re-newal of religious life, including its most mysterious dimension, that of prayer. If we fail in this task, some-thing deep and nourishing for our lives and the life of the Church will simply die. Only if we succeed will we find strength, vitality, and meaning to enable us to make our contribution to the Body of Christ in the twentieth century. It is worth our best efforts. EDITED BY THOMAS F. O'MEARA, O.P. Community and Commitment COMMUNITY There* is a new burst of awareness and[desire for com-munity both within and without the Church. The need for community lies deep in the heart of ~tlan. Religious and apostolic life cannot find its source} realization, or sign value simply in the fact that a gr~oup of men or women dress alike and perform certain ritual actions together Human relations are too profound, too deep 1y explore~, too important for this-superfiCial bond. Why do religious live in community? In some way it must be to enable and to enrich a human, Christian, apostolic, and celibate life. Each of these aspects calls for commu-nity and must find it or be frustrated. For-the present generation, isolated and made anxious by advancing technology, community is essential. A! new view of religious life must emphasize its importan.ce and its roots in the New Testament. Community exists to help the person develop as a person, to help the Christian develop !as a Christian. Community must be an adult familial ~ommunity, for this is basic to man. If a man does not create one through marriage, he must find another form, for man cannot live totally alone ~nd live healthily. R~.ligious commu-nity life, like the Christian individual, i~ a place where nature and grace meet. The charisms of the Spirit, the times, the heritage of the order, the psychological needs of persons are an array of aspects highl:ighting the im-portance of community. Community supports the indi-vidual in his apostolate; it gives hir~ direction and encouragement. But community is not jffst the backdrop * This article is excerpted from a paper feceS,' tly prepared by a group of midwestern Dominicans. The title ofI the ful.1 paper is "Towards a Theology of the Dominican Life in the United States Today." The article presented here has been edited b~ Thdmas F. O'Meara, O.P. I + 4- 4, Father Thomas O'Meara, O.P., is a member of Aquinas Institute School of Theology; St. Rose l~riory; Dubuqqe, Iowa 52001¢ " - . ; VOLUME 28;.1959: ¢'.,' 541 T. F. O'Meara, O.P. REVIEW I~OR RE~L[GIOUS ~2 for activity; it is essential to effective Christian life and apostolate. Apostolate and community are correlatives. Neither can be defined without the other. We are in-volved in a communal apostolate and an apostolic com-munity. We do not yet know how the rather recent re-discovery of the importance of community will effect a more profound level of community life; but we do know that for the United States and the American life style this rediscovery is extremely important, perhaps more important (and more advanced) when compared to the life style of Europeans. The previous form of routine, joint prayer (which is not the same as communal prayer), tolerant charity, frustrating or limiting obedience was insufficient. It often led to seeking a "family" outside of the priory rather than bringing friends into our family. The jurid-ical description of community is insufficient, since community is primarily a human and Christian, a psy-chological and socio-theological reality. Law can neither form nor direct true community; it can only give a very few boundaries beyond which community could not exist. From these legal lines to real community is a long road, but it is a road which the Christians could begin to traverse if they would emphasize grace, not law. If the Church is a microcosm of the world, the reli-gious community is a microcosm of the society in which it lives. The religious community should be a kind or type of Christian community, a model for it. By its very existence in communal sharing and dedication to preaching the gospel, the religious community shows it is not the world. But the religious community is in the world. It shares in human communities--in their life and in their structures. By baptism and vows we look to a special fulfillment beyond the merely social community of family and city. This is possible, however, only by listening closely to the insights of the gospel, to the Church, and to the contributions of the secular sciences. Psychology can be seen as a kind of praeparatio evan-gelica for healthy community life, for charity, maturity, honesty, joy, and dedication. We must learn what is the correct size for a community of men or of women, as determined by social and psychological studies; how a community can best be directed; what is the importance of work; whether one community needs a single apostolic goal or whether these can be pluralistic. Neither theology nor canon law have all the information on this; social psychology and management planning must help. We will see below that the community is the source of authority. The superior exemplifies the spirit of the community. He inspires and coordinates the ac-tivities of the community flowing from their life and work. He is not, primarily, a secretary, a bookkeeper, or a control center for daily life. The community should be open because Christian Iove is open; the community is mature and the superior a guide rather than a controller because this reflects the Christian (not the Jewish) idea of God. No closed community is happy. Jesus Christ was not closed in upon himself. Christian community-apostles must not be just intellectually open, but emotionally and psychologically open to change, to newness, to risk. To be such, the religious community must be physically open to the com-munities it borders. Religious communities cannot be fortresses, for these are anachronistic. Rather they must be dynamic centers of the Christian prophetic word en-gaging in conversation and cooperation with the world. Privacy and silence have a purpose, but they are not absolutes; they are ordained to dialogue and mission, and so cannot object to a reasonable openness of a com-munity to those for whom we exist. Just as vatican II showed that the world was vastly complex and different, and emphasized the local church as the New Testament does, so too a new view of reli-gious life will emphasize the local community. This is where religious life will be lived or will die out. The novitiate and a few houses of so-called strict observance cannot be the norm, especially in the United States where such a "norm" would be viewed as hypocritical. The local community will either attract novices to its kind of life or none will come, since young Americans are now attracted to concrete persons and what they are doing, not to ancient saints or romantic descriptions. The local community is all-important, and the province is seen as the coordinating center of creative and respon-sible local communities. VOWS IN C01V[MUNITY The Vows as Commitment to Christian Community and Ecclesial Apostolate The vows are directed towards community member-ship and activity. Since they are acts of persons, they have personal implications such as lasting celibacy, per-sonal mortification and denial, communal sharing, and so forth. But the community dimension can no longer be eclipsed by the personal; it is the community way of life which asks for celibacy; it is a particular level of apostolic efficiency and potential which requests poverty; and obedience is basically not the submission to one man's direction in the details of li[e, but the entrance into a community with its own necessary leadership. Vows are a lasting commitment to service through corn- Community and Commitra~nt VOLUME 28, 1969 munity for the kingdom of God. Obedience is commit-ment to community; poverty exists for service, peace, and equality; chastity is essential to this kind of dedication. Because of the importance of the New Testament record and an individual's commitment, we must have a Biblical theology of commitment-in-vows. We 'must have not only a Biblical theology of the vows, but a sociology and psychology of them as well. The vows are not re-straints but liberating influences. Are the vows the same as every and any commitment to a religious community? Do they have positive sign value today, as the Council de-mands they should? Does their nomenclature get in the way? Perhaps it is possible to see different levels of active commitment following evangelical counsels: these levels would be introductory (novitiate), temporary and termi-nal (auxiliaries), permanent but open to dispensation, and final. We must be wary of stating a theology of vows in terms of any dualism or any triumphalism. We cannot take for granted our identification of virginity with virtue, poverty with righteousness, or the religious life with a higher state. The vows, like the religious life, cannot be absolutes since they are means. How can Americans rediscover, emphasize, and expli-cate the goals towards which the vows tend. If these goals die out or escape achievement, the vows no longer have any real purpose. The keeping of a vow without any purpose or success is not in keeping with Jesus' reli-gious thought. Vows are means to love, to zeal, to open-ness, to adaptation, to maturity, to Christian apostolic success, to service. Vows do not permit us to have no concern for the future of ourselves or our society, to have no interest in others, to withdraw, to escape decisions and responsibilites, persecution and defamation, to es-cape the necessity of worrying about life and livelihood, to ignore the effectiveness of our community and the Roman Catholic Church. The purpose of the vows is to communicate Christ through a personal and communal life in God. 4. 4. 4. T. F. O'Meara, O.P. REV|EW~ FOR RELIGIOUS 544 Chastity A theology of religious chastity avoids every dualism. It never loses sight of the goodness of human emotions and sexuality, the permanent role sexuality plays in a balanced personality. Chastity is not a means of not-getting- involved in the world, of "avoiding near occa-sions of sin." Chastity is not a way of playing safe, nor are sins against chastity the most horrendous of the religious life, adding "malice" to sexual disorder. A re-ligious~ chastity can be a .selfishness of great proportions. Chastity must search seriously for its justification, and each must ask whether he justifies his living of a life which is not creative of human family; he asks this question not just once at perpetual vows but throughout his life. It is not at all clear that Americans today are more involved in sexual immorality than in the past, although they are certainly barraged with the glorification of sexuality. Still, the seriousness of not sharing one's life with another human being, the potential ambiguity of sexual abstinence, and the gift of creating a family should not be set aside easily. Does celibate chastity as a commitment to a community of Christian service have the theology and sign value for today it deserves? How do religious love in a human way? How is sexuality present in a love for the community and the world? Psychology must help to determine the dynamics and limitations of chastity in each individual, and the particular conditions which this or that province or house must take into ac-count. Chastity allows for a certain level of Christian dedica-tion to the apostolate and sanctity. It is academic to ask whether this is better or best, since only the individ-ual with his God-given vocation has a "place" in the sight of God. Chastity allows (it does not insure or cause) dedication: (a) to many persons rather than a few; (b) to areas of work which are dangerous or demanding in an exceptional way; (c) to an intensity of work in quality and quantity. Chastity is connected with the revolution-ary, missionary, and suffering nature of the Christian apostolate insofar as the celibate preacher of the gospel can go where a family cannot. Ghastity and poverty allow a certain economic and social independence, a freedom from political or economic systems which may be perversely harming human life and development. Poverty Poverty is not simply the absence of normal or special consumer goods. Amid growing American affluence, poverty is an evil, and the American mentality is intent upon its elimination. Christian "poverty" can have value in America as a sign of Christian eschatology and as an identification with the downtrodden and persecuted. In the present social and political upheavals within the United States, it has become clear that some religious who "practiced" poverty (sometimes in ludicrous detail) at the same time possessed a mentality which was un-sympathetic to the poor. Poverty must be seen, then, as a sign of the worldly and transcendent kingdom of God, of the "already" and "not yet" of the Christian mission. There are three aspects of poverty within the religious life, aspects which must be constantly tested as to whether they have a contemporary voice and to whether ÷ ÷ ~ommunity and Commitment VOLUME 2~ 1969 T. F. O~Meara, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELlflIOUS they are kept in the right balance. (1) Poverty of the individual and community must be proportionate to the particular apostolate and community. Poverty must smooth the road to effective apostolate and Christian Service. We must not let privileges, traditions, "contacts" little by little lead us away from service to the poor and persecuted. (2) Poverty has sign value: it frees us for work for the kingdom of God which is coming; it pro-claims our faith in divine providence and in the power of Christ to become the center of the evolving world. Our faith in Christ above and within the world is active now and in the future. (3) Poverty frees us for work among persons and proclaims the primacy of the personal, Christian, spiritual over the material. Wealth is power; but poverty affarms faith in another power, a power which is ultimately greater because it influences not mountains or machinery but persons and ideas. Vatican II emphasized the importance of real sign value to poverty, the importance of personal poverty and of corporate poverty. The latter demands real financial sharing on a national and international level as integral to the living of the vow of poverty. The Constitution on the .Church in the Modern World asks that we take up dialogue with the world as it is. With regard to the eco-nomic dimensions, we see that technological society has given us means of great value and importance. Wealth is good, and the assumption---dominant from the origins of man--that poverty and sickness were inevitable and frequent is now questioned by American youth, scien-tists, and polity. The correct direction of this nation's wealth and power would be a greater byproduct of our dedication to poverty than our supercilious contempt of all who possess or study wealth. In short, are we "using" our poverty for people? Poverty not only allows us to be especially dedicated to apostolates, but demands that we employ well time and energy in our areas of work. Poverty can mean em-ploying secretaries, jet travel, electronic media, and so forth in order to reach in a year (or a day) thousands more than Paul or Dominic contacted in a lifetime. On the personal level, poverty can easily be rendered mori-bund by establishing a life where all needs are filled im-mediately within a fully ordered house. Poverty means lack of security but trust in God. Poverty should prepare religious for living in the present era where the models and, concepts of the religious life are being hotly debated and seriously questioned. Poverty and faith are corre-lates; poverty and routine or unchallenged life are con-tradictions. Poverty rejects any defense of the past which turns priories, publications, apostolates, liturgies, and so forth into the displays of a museum. This is espe- cially true in the United States where we have practically no past and where our mentality is future oriented. Very practically, poverty is a commitment to commu-nity life. The American religious wants to know where and who this community is. He takes for granted his right to have some information on how the large amounts sacrificed or earned are being spent. The United States' Church has experienced many cases of poor planning, excessive construction of buildings, un-needed schools and apostolate.s, waste or diffusion of sums of money. The Christian who commits himself to poverty in a community has an obligation to see that that community itself is not sinning against poverty, and clearly superiors must answer not only to God but to the members of the community who freely offer their earnings. The spirituality and life of r~ligious in the area of poverty are not helped but rather frustrated by re-mote, corporate decisions on the expense of money. Can we not expect that a religious who sees money wasted will hesitate to remain within the community or to con-tinue his work and sacrifice? Obedience Thomas Aquinas emphasized the theological impor-tance of God's creation and agents. God acts directly in His world rarely. Similarly, obedience is not just a per-sonal relationship to God, and a superior never fully takes the place of God or Jesus Christ. Obedience is a commitment to God's kingdom revealed to us in Christ as present in a special ecclesial community. Obedience like authority involves community. Americans are raised in the Anglo-Saxon tradition of law. This tradition is often almost in contradiction to certain RoMan and European philosophies of law. The British and American legal mentality looks to a mini-mum of laws and a maximum of obedience; this is allied to equity but does not tend toward dispensation. Clearly the spirit of religious constitutions of the past and the Code of Canon Law stem from another philoso-phy. That is why the Constitution of the United States with 190 years of amendments fills only a few pages, while the laws of the community of "Christian freedom" are numerous. This national difference will influence American reaction to laws, authority, and obedience in the religious life. The purpose of authority is not to rule over the de-tails of the life of children, but to enable their matura-tion and sanctity. Adulthood, participation, and deci-sion- making can and should belong to all the members of a community in a society where political maturity is taken for granted. From the point of view of charisms, Community and Commitment VOLUME 28~ 19~9 54~ T. F. O'.~e~,~'a~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 548 the Spirit cannot be relegated to the mind of the supe-rior, nor will educated Christians accept the point of view that the will of the superior is always God's positive (as contrasted with His permissive) will. Education and adulthood render implausible the Neoplatonic idea that the superior informs the inferiors, because he always knows--intellectually or theologically--more than they do. Rather, the superior brings to focus the will of the community when it is holy and reasonable, or solves dilemmas presented by opposing parties. Traditions of democracy, initiative, consensus, and Aquinas' emphasis on nature with grace and secondary causes under God have been obscured by later spiritual theologies. There is a crisis in communities over whether differ-ent points of view exist, or whether bureaucratic con-trol can yield to political maturity. Today's crisis of obedience cannot be solved by more laws, stricter cen-sures, and tighter controls. This will only lead to the sin of forcing schism and apostasy. Mature Christians can-not renounce their own consciences over what seems er-roneous or insignificant. The crisis of obedience shows that a new kind of person is emerging in the Western world. He is quite different from either the Medieval peasant or the European bourgeois. His education, social responsibility, and creative initiative can either be used within the community, or he can be rejected. But he will not choose to live as a non-person, stripped of his own existence and potentiality--for neither common sense nor Christian virtue would suggest that he do so. There is a crisis in the Church today centering in the realization of authority. This is not simply "a crisis of authority." What is at issue is not that authority, even that infallible authority exists, but how it exists. This crisis is of great extent and needs a solutio~frather than a repression. The crisis is stimulated by the ever in-creasing role played by the mass media in Church affairs, by Vatican II's theology of collegiality, and by the transi-tion of the Church from a feudal or immigrant power to a vital stimulus within a pluralistic society. The crisis is particularly acute in the United States due to our lack of roots in the past history of the Church, to the American political mentality, and to the tension arising from past attempts to merge these two. The future should not be allowed to witness a growing division be-tween our standard style of administration on the one hand, and the majority of religious, especially the young, on the other. The New Testament recognizes even within its nor-mative pages a certain pluralism in Church forms. An example of this is found in St. Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, Chapters Twelve through Fourteen. Different gifts are given to different members of the Church by the same Spirit. Every member of the Church does not have the same function, just as each part of the body does not have the same function. Though these members have different rules, a unity still exists from the members' re-lationship to Christ. There is a diversity in the Church, but it is a diversity which is unified in Christ. All of these gifts are given for the upbuilding of the Church. In this view of the Church given by St. Paul, there is definitely an emphasis on a plurality in Church forms, but a pluralism which is unified in Christ. Yet, the division, isolation, and frustration felt by many religious do exist. Where does it come from? Cen-tral authority often seems to be irrelevant. Why? Perhaps because it offers negative laws post factum rather than leadership before and during the moments of decision. This kind of authority is frustrating to those who have not been consulted and whose circumstances militate against the decision taken; it is irrelevant to many who may with risk choose to prefer real community and effec-tive apostolate to belonging to a long established group. The following three ideas are guidelines by which to measure practical decisions on renewing the concrete realization of government. (1) Charity. Charity is primary. Past constitutions have given the impression that holiness and charity come infallibly from obedience. Experience teaches that this is not true. Love for the community and the in-dividuals in it must have a certain primacy over systems, machinery, and political goals. Love is prior to obedience and is the original cause of obedience. The present crisis will not be solved without a greater emphasis on love for the individual person. (2) Freedom. It is the purpose of neither the vow of obedience nor of government to plan each individual's life and day. There should be an atmosphere freely to be lived in, not a minute horarium to be conformed to. Vatican II's Church in the Modern World begins with man, his dignity, and freedom; religious should not be afraid to follow that example. The purpose of au-thority should be to offer maxrmum help with minimum legislation. (3) Comumunity. Freedom, education, and personal maturity are some of the catalysts for today's crisis in religious community. Until we are accustomed to col-legial decisions at all levels, we will have anguish and potential death in American religious institutes. Three things are involved in the government of a community vis-a-vis the new problems: (1) the struggle for real com-munity life; (2) the necessity to be, without sacrificing heritage or unity, pluralistic; and (3) the desire for the ÷ ÷ ÷ Community and Commitment VOLUME 2BI 1969 549 T. F. O'Meera, REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS 550 apostolate to correspond to personal needs and exigen-cies of society, and to help form community. It is clear that we do not have all the answers as to how to form this new community life on either the per-sonal or the structural basis. Clearly some things must go and others stay. But we must strive towards what is mentioned immediately above, for they are fundamen-tal to what religious life claims to be. The struggle to-wards this is itself good. Complaints about impending doom and disaster fail in Christian hope. The struggle is evangelical, since the vocation and following that Jesus preached include uncertainty. In the past we created a world where we conquered the future by avoid-ing it, by being static. We must not be afraid of uncer-tainty or risk and even danger in evaluating and living life. Political philospophy tells us that there are two ques-tions in the renewal of political structure: (1) What is your model of person? What kind of people are you deal-ing with? (2) In the light of what is best suited for these persons, who decides and governs? In considering our political structures, have we overlooked the first question? In regard to the second, decision and consul-tation should penetrate into the community as far as they can. This is a principle not only of politics but of a Christian theology of virtue. Today, we do not really have conflict within the de-velopment of representation and pluralism in govern-ment; we have a conflict as to whether pluralism and collegiality should be allowed to exist at all. This con-flict is disastrous, for new forms of realizing authority in religious community can be combated in America only at the price of a Pyrrhic victory, the decline of religious life. How are mature American religious to come to realize that representation and political discussion about the leadership and direction of the order is not evil. The Acts of the Apostles record discussion among the Apostles. For an American, not to question, noi to engage in the realm of political life is to be immature. We must not allow the leaders of men and women religious (who are not on the same theological plane as bishops) to become persons who mix the sacred with the secular like kings of divine right. Some attempt must be made to open more lines of communication, to broaden the base of author-ity, to give the greatest possible representation, to recognize the responsibility of local communities for their lives, to allow for pluralism and even dissent--all within the context of religious obedience to those in of-rice. How this is to be done without weakening authority is a challenging but far from insuperable question. To ~nany [rom other cultures, the entire view may seem bizarre or even dangerous. However, it is a legitimate possibility within ecclesial religious life, and it is the normal and traditional political mentality of Americans. Actually, obedience will grow where love has primacy; zeal will become more intense where consultation (with or without final agreement) has made it feel worthwhile. While commitment to Christian community-apostolate is destroyed by depersonalization and autocracy, it is increased through openness and honesty. Community and Commitment VOLUME 28, 1969 55! ANTHONY D. HECKER, S.J. Attitudes, Unity, and Renewal ÷ ÷ ÷ Anthony Hecker, s.J., writes fa'om Coleran House; 19 Linnaean Street in Cambridge, Massa-chusetts 02138. ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In this age of renewal, both in the Church and in re-ligious orders, I would like to present for your considera-tion my reflections on those factors which could inhibit renewal. I refer to the need of greater communication between the so-called "New Breed" and the consequently so-called "Old Breed." I personally would prefer to ignore all such labels not only because of the divisions which they hint at but also because of the divisive-ness which they foster. I would like to do an in-depth study of the problems which I have observed both in my own order and in other orders with which I have come into some contact. However, because of various and sundry limitations, I must acknowledge that the following is neither a total study nor an in-depth study; rather it is simply my past and present reflections con-cerning these problems, about which 1 have a genuine concern. I present these reflections to you because I think that any attempt toward renewal will become operation-ally successful only insofar as there is unity among the members of the renewing order. At present I think that there is at least some lack of unity and that the source of that lack of unity is in our attitudes toward one another. It could easily be the case that my portrayal of these attitudinal difficulties is at least excessive, at most er-roneous. Nevertheless, by presenting these reflections to you, I hope at least to foster some reflection concerning unity and ways in which it might be improved. First, I would explain that, although I am relatively "young" and am a scholastic, I do not intend to castigate merely the "old" religious. (Indeed, I would hope that nothing that I say is construed, or misconstrued, as castigation of any person or group of persons.) The problems of communication cannot be facilely attributed to any one person or group of persons; we are all re-sponsible to a greater or lesser extent. Second, I would note that the basic problem of communication has its foundation in attitudes--attitudes toward the non-peer groups, especially those attitudes which are founded on implicit, and, hopefully, not recognized, presuppositions concerning the non-peer groups. I also want to state the several presuppositions which will be implicit throughout the rest of this discussion. First, we should not confuse unity with uniformity. For example, the excessive concern with mode of dress (ex-cessive because the concern exceeds that warranted by the subject matter) is more a question of uniformity than unity. External symbols do not foster unity; they can at best point to a unity which may or may not exist. A corollary principle, which I hesitate to state because of the apparent note of castigation contained therein, is that common life does not mean reducing everything to the lowest common denominator. I would willingly and forcefully declare that common life is necessary for unity. When, however, common life is proclaimed as a principle of uniformity, as well as of unity, then not only are the unifying aspects pushed below the horizon but also any further use of common life as a principle of action and decision is viewed by the subject with suspicion and dis-trust, rightly or wrongly. A second presupposition of this discussion is that dif-ferent attitudes or manners of acting should not be so facilely assigned a value parameter. That is, when some-one's attitudes or actions are even radically different from our own, we should not assume that they are wrong; much less should we arbitrarily impute base motives to them. For example, is it not more probable that certain priests and religious prefer not to perform "folk" or "liberal" liturgies because they think that they cannot find God so easily or so fully in such liturgies because of the "distrac-tions" inherent in such liturgies, than it is that their preferences are because they are "old fogies" or "die-hard conservatives"? Conversely, is it not more probable that certain priests and religious prefer to perform "folk" or "liberal" liturgies because they think that they can find God more easily and more fully in such liturgies because those "distractions" actually aid them in lifting themselves up to God, than it is that their preferences are because they are "always seeking new and exciting things"? A preference for uniformity would demand that one or the other view prevail. A preference for unity would allow the recognition that unity is not opposed to diversity. An all-pervasive value orientation would de-mand that one or the other view be declared good or better, and that the other be declared bad or worse. A view that would recognize the worth of a value orienta-tion but would also realize that it is not universally ÷ ÷ ÷ ~/OLLIME 2$, 19~9 A. D. Hecke~;$.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 554~ applicable would allow the recognition that several different, views can prevail simultaneously. There are many ways of approaching God, even within one (Jesuit) general framework. The primary concern of this discussion, then, is to con-sider attitudes of religious toward other religious. I would begin by stating, even categorically, that dogmatism among "liberals" is at least an implicit denial of the very essence of liberalism. A liberal, if he is a true liberal, must accept the conservative on his own--the conserva-tive's- terms; a liberalism that excludes anyone because they have a different viewpoint is, at best, a caricature of liberalism. How then, can liberals castigate conservatives because they are not liberals? Should the true liberal have, and manifest, a desire to proselytize everyone everywhere, to malte everyone liberals whether they want to be or not? To all these questions I must answer, No. Lest my answer be interpreted as a non-liberal attitude toward those "liberals," I would state that my answer is based upon my own reflections concerning what a liberal is. Accordingly, I would ask those "liberals" to help me to understand their view of liberalism and how that view is compatible with their attitudes. On the other hand, I would state, even categorically, that dogmatism among "conservatives" or "traditional-ists" is at least an implicit denial of the very essence of tradition. Dogmatism here leads to fossilization of tradi-tion. Can the true conservative deny that there is any development in our understanding of God and of our relation to Him, indeed that development is inspired by the Spirit? Can the true conservative deny that there are a variety of ways of approaching God, that God can be "all things to all men"? (Would they really limit God in this way?) If they do not allow for the continuous workings o[ the Spirit, are they not left with merely the dead letter of the past? Indeed, is not this continuous and varied working of the Spirit a presupposition of Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises (Annotations 4, 15, 18), and is it not probable that Ignatius intended these as principles of Christian living as well as principles to be used in the Spiritual Exercises? Can the true conserv-ative demand uniformity of thought--that we all think alike--rather than unity of thought--that we agree on certain common goals and then proceed in our various ways to foster attainment of those goals? Would it be possible for the conservative, and the liberal as well, to accept the distinction between "accepting a view" and "agreeing with a view" (accepting a view as valid despite the fact that it is not a view he can personally agree with)? A second attitude that I would consider is the emo- tional generalizati.on of a response to a particular aspect of another person. This attitude appears to predominate among the younger religious, perhaps only because of my greater contact with them; it might be just as prevalent among older religious. What I mean by this attitudinal problem is that, at least occasionally, a person will ob-serve a limitation in another person (real or imagined) and then proceed to generalize--the person can do noth-ing right. The particular observation becomes generalized into an attack on the person of the person. For example, a student may discover that a particular facultymember has a character fault let us say pride. Rather rapidly the student will become convinced that that person is a poor teacher and/or advisor. I will grant that I have ob-served few religious with this problem, but unfortunately some of these few are quite vociferous. Even were their judgments true, I think it an extreme lapse of charity to commit such character assassination. Unfortunately, also, too many younger religious are not critical enough in evaluating these unsolicited reports. They might hear from a vociferous few that a teacher cannot teach and readily accept it as fact, without even experiencing the teacherl Finally on this problem, too many religious, young and old alike, engage all too frequently in destructive criti-cism. It seems, at times, to be almost a preoccupation, occasionally even descending to a type of "Can you top this?" session. Needless to say, all these manifestations of the same general attitude are destructive of unity, all the more pernicious because it results in a gradual and insidious erosion of unity, unnoticed and unreflected upon. Can we not accept the limitations of each other without bandying them all about? If we must talk about the limitations of another, let us in all charity and honesty talk about them with the person most concerned--the person with the limitation. Let us build one another up in charity rather than tearing one another down, and thus destroying the very fabric of our various orders. The third and final attitudinal area I would concern myself with is that of suspicion and distrust--not al-together unrelated to destructive criticism. What I mean by this is the tendency of too many of us to presume the worst of each other and, accordingly, to impute poor motives. This attitude is, I think, founded on at least two; more fundamental problems: lack of understanding and lack of faith in the good will of others--two problems which closely interact upon each other. Lack of understanding appears to know no boundaries. It is prevalent between younger and older religious, between subjects--regardless of age--and superiors. That ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ A. D. Hecker, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS between subjects and superiors seems to be more heavily influenced by a lack of faith; it will be treated in its proper place. Conversely, the lack of understanding between younger and older religious seems to be prior to, and causative of, the lack of faith. This lack of under-standing is, I think, intimately linked with the problem of unity. Unity is not that sort of thing which can be readily and simply assumed as existing between a group of men or women with common goals; nor can it be fostered and maintained by a total reliance upon sym-bolic acts and customs. Unity is something that has to be worked at in a real way by all the members of a group. Unity demands that all in the group understand one another; and to understand one another requires both work and patience. The urgent, and apparently natural, impulse to be understood seems to force us to give a primacy to this aspect of our interpersonal rela-tions. I wonder if this is not a false assigning of priorities. Could it not be that in order to be understood we must first understand others? Could it not be that in order to express ourselves in a manner that others can under-stand, in order to express ourselves in the thought pat-terns of the others, we must first understand the others? Of course it should also be realized that to simply understand the thoughts or expressions of others does not suffice. This is merely a token or surface understand-ing. To properly understand other persons, at least an attempt must be made to understand the social, emo-tional, psychological, and philosophical tensions and views that influenced those persons during their forma-tive years. For example, do younger religious under-stand, and realize the consequences of, the circumstances in which their elders grew up? (There is the fact that absolutism was not only prevalent in theology but that it also permeated all aspects of life and thought-- Einstein and such thinkers were not public knowledge, and thus not influential on public patterns of thought, until the forties; the social sciences were not influential until the mid-fifties; apologetics was a major concern throughout the entire course of. studies. Now when apologetics is given such an all-pervasive primacy, should it be surprising that the critical faculty 'is highly devel-oped, and that there should be a great concern to preserve and protect all aspects of the Catholic faith--incidentals as well as essentials?) On the other hand, do the older religious understand, and realize the consequences of, the circumstances in which the younger religious grew up? (There is the fact that Einstein's theory was public knowledge, and thus permeated all aspects of life and thought; the social sciences Were in full flowei', and thus the greater concern about freedom and interpersonal relations; Teilhard de Chardin was influential in shaping a new worldview-- readily taught to and accepted, perhaps uncritically, by the younger men.) I do not not mean to imply by all this that the new is better than the old, nor that the old is better than the new. Rather I am attempting to point out the fact that there are in any of the orders today two--at least two--- quite different ways of viewing the world, views that underlie and permeate all aspects of life of the various persons. I reiterate, neither is better, they are just simply different. Accordingly, to understand any thought, view, or opinion of another person, that thought, view, or opinion must be understood in the context of that per-son's way of viewing the world. Of course, there will be the few, with either worldview, who are incapable of understanding the other worldview of the other person; but this does in no way imply that Christian charity is no longer needed. Because we do not understand the other person's point of view, we should not assume that he is wrong, or foolish, or operating with ill will; neither should we ridicule or antagonize him. We should ap-proach those few, then, with the realization that a greater demand may be made upon our charity--they may ridicule or antagonize us but we need not respond in kind--and with a determination that we shall improve our relations with them. These last remarks lead us to a consideration of the lack of faith in the good will of the other person. There seems to be this lack of trust between old and young; but, more importantly, there seems to be some mutual lack of trust between superiors and subjects. Certainly the latter, but I think also the former, implies a limitation in our practical spirituality. What I mean by this is that, while supernatural faith is directed primarily to God, in that very fact it should also be directed toward men. Faith in God includes faith in God's loving kindness and grace-full influence upon men, especially upon men who have committed themselves totally to God. Accordingly, to say that one has faith in God and yet to manifest a radical lack of faith in men totally committed to God involves one, to some extent, in a contradiction. To point out what I have referred to as a limitation in our practical spirituality I would use, by way of ex-ample, our attitude toward what the Jesuits refer to as the "plus-sign." We seem today to disdain the term "plus-sign" and all that it connotes. On those rare occurrences when we do use it we manifest what we think that it means. Too often we apparently mean that we have al-ready judged the other person, thus fostering a negative image of him in ourselves, but that we will give him the ÷ ÷ ÷ Renewal VOLUME 2~ 1969 557 benefit of the doubt and not report him. I submit that the "plus-sign" does not connote this negative attitude but rather one that is quite positive. It is not an act which follows upon judgment but is an act which pre-cedes judgment. It is a humble admission of the fact that too little is known of the other person, especially of his degree of deliberation, to judge him on the basis of a solitary act. It is the suspension of judgment as opposed to rash judgment. I would suggest that this might be what Ignatius was referring to in the Praesupponendum to the Spiritual Exercises. I would also reiterate that it is doubt-ful that Ignatius wrote this to be used solely in the con-text of the Exercises; rather it was intended also as a principle of Christian living. In the light of all this, when we disagree with someone in principle, or concerning policy, should we seek out negative reasons for his position, especially if we do not understand his point of view or frame of reference? When we disagree with superiors in principle, or con-cerning policy, and realize that we cannot effect a change, would it not be more healthy and mature to seek out their reasons for maintaining the present system even while we continue to represent our views? Of course another requirement of our interpersonal relations is patience. Even if superiors were to agree that some changes might be beneficial, time would often be re-quired before they could be effected. Conversely, if changes are effected, how can we be so sure that they are failures after only three or four months of operation, especially if we have had little contact with that area? I would close as I began: emphasizing that these are some of my reflections concerning unity, at least limited, possibly erroneous. It was my intention, and is my hope, that these reflections might be a means of stimulating reflections on the problems of unity and ways in which the present degree of unity might be improved. A. D. Hecker, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 558 EDWARD R. TRUBAC Long-term Financial Planning for Religious Communities Faced* with scarce resources generated by a growing number of apostolates combined with a declining number of vocations, religious communities have increasingly turned to planning in order to allocate these resources in the best way possible. However, present planning has gen-erally been of a short-term nature principally designed to meet the rather immediate needs of the religious com-munity. Many decisions have been made without a clear notion of their long-run financial implications and with-out a careful analysis of alternative proposals. In my talk I would like to begin by discussing some basic principles of planning, then apply these principles to the long-range needs of religious communities, and conclude by tracing some of the financial implications of planning decisions, Basic Principles of Planning In referring to long-range planning, I am not talking about an informal annual get-together in which adminis-trators meet to give their opinions about the course of the future. Neither am I referring to the kind of planning which is initiated because of some kind of crisis, such as a sharp decline in profits for a firm or a sudden increase in instructional expenses for a school. This kind of plan-ning is really not planning at all; in fact, it ilIustrates the costs associated with a lack of planning in which options to act and shape events are restricted as one is forced to react and adapt to a given situation. Long-range planning is a formal, organized process in which a person or group of persons is 'specifically * This is the text of a talk given on February 26, 1969, at the Conference for Religious in Financial Management held at the University of Notre Dame. ÷ ÷ Edward R. Tru-bac is assistant pro-lessor of finance; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 2~ 1969 charged with developing a plan of what the organization should look like in five or ten years; the basic purpose of the plan is to mobilize the available resources of the or-ganization in a way that will best achieve its objectives: Firms which have adopted formal plans often seek new ventures through mergers, acquisitions, product line diversifi-cation, or market expansion. They are not satisfied with main-taining the status quo unless they determine, after careful analysis, that this is the best possible course of action. And, in some instances, a company can improve its performance significantly by planning ways to increase the efficiency of cun-ent operations, rather than following the more glamorous but more risky diversification route? To repeat, long-range or strategic planning, to use the more popular term, is essentially concerned with the eval-uation of alternative courses of action (with the stress on the word alternative) in an effort to select the best course of action for the future. And by best course of action, I mean the one that best meets the objectives of the organi-zation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Edward R. Trubac Planning Principles and the Long-Term Needs of Religious Communities This approach is obviously applicable to religious communities as well as to business firms. Like firms, re-ligious communities have in the past few yeais become more actively engaged both in "product line diversifica-tion" and efforts designed to improve the efficiency of current operations. For example, some alternatives that might be grouped within a long-term planning framework for a typical religious community would be: (a) Should the community continue to own and op-erate small hospitals, should only large ones be consid-ered, or should the community relinquish ownership ~ind merely staff hospitals and homes? (b) Is it advisable to continue the two-year college in its present form on the motherhouse campus or should it be discontinued and a house of formation set up near a university campus? (c) Should the community continue in elementary edu-cation, should expansion in secondary schools be consid-ered, or should sisters accept teaching positions in secular institutions? (d) Should a religious community operate only in schools andhospitals, or should many of the members be actively engaged in some of the various types of social work that are open to today's sister? A correct though obviously superficial answer to the REV1EW FOR RELIGIOUS x Harold W. Henry, "Formal Long-range Planning and Corpora-tion Performance," Michigan Business Review, November, 1968, 560 p. above questions would be to do what you think is best. But what is best is again dependent on your objectives. And while you may start with general goals, acceptable guidelines for decision-making must be phrased in con-crete and measurable terms. Here business firms have a decided advantage over non-profit organizations. For while a firm may have as its general objective the opera-tion of a diversified, growing, and profitable worldwide manufacturing business, its specific objective will prob-ably be couched in terms of a specified rate of return on investment; the evidence of the firm's success in meeting this goal can easily be gleaned from its financial report. For the typical religious community, the honor and glory of God and the sanctification of its members would adequately reflect its general objectives, these goals to be specifically achieved through the external works of char-ity of caring for the sick, social work, and the education and training of youth. But while the subobjectives of business firms (for example, a specified rate of return on investment) lend themselves to rather precise measure-ment and, therefore, evaluation, those of religious com-munities do not. First, it is difficult to identify measurable goals in health care, social work, and education, particu-larly Catholic education. And if you cannot specify your objectives in measurable terms, how can you accurately evaluate your operations? This is a problem that most non-profit institutions have in common. Moreover, even if you could express the objectives of each apostolate in meas-urable terms, there would still be the problem of com-paring different units of measurement; in other words, a firm can estimate the expected contribution of each new venture or product in terms of a common denominator-- profit. But how does a religious community, trying to maximize the benefits from its various activities, compare the gains from medical care with the gains from educa-tion when these benefits are expressed in different units of measurement? Finally, religious congregations are faced with the unique problem of structuring a community life that will maximize spiritual development as they al-locate their resources to their various works. Measurable Guidelines for Allocating Resources to the Various Apostolates Because of the difficulties in defining measurable units of output, value judgments will necessarily play a large role in the choice of community works. However, I do think there are some objective guidelines that should not be ignored. First, religious communities are constrained in selecting apostolic works by the specialized nature of their resources, both people and buildings. While people probably constitute the chief constraint, I am familiar ÷ ÷ Financial Planning VOLUME 213, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS with several cases o~ communities who have experienced difficulties in changing the pattern of their activities be-cause of the problems involved in liquidating their in-vestment in buildings and equipment. Now when I use the term constraint in referring to people, I do not mean to use it in a negative sense. If members of a religious community are competent in and motivated toward, for example, the medical care field, then the community should be in that area (one of the first steps in the planning process should be an inventory of talents and attitudes for the various works). Each apostolate can easily be broken down into several sub-apostolates that are in urgent need of competent and highly motivated people. To take the medical care apos-tolate as an example: (a) Religious communities strong in administrative personnel will continue the traditional pattern of ownership and manage-ment. (h) Some will wish to retain ownership and policy making responsibility but will be unwilling to pr.epare religious for administration. They will utilize religious m direct service to patients and in purely spiritual roles and will be obliged to place administration in the hands of seculars. (c) Others may give only direct care while still others, de-pending on their preferences and training, may engage in home nursing, care for the aged or programs for retarded and handicapped people.* Financial Considerations in the Planning Process Financial considerations must also play a roIe in plan-ning the optimal mix of activities. I would like to see religious communities, in formulating their long-term plans, estimate their expected net financial return on in-vestment in each of the apostolates under consideration; that is, they should calculate the financial costs and bene-fits of each apostolate. I am certainly not suggesting that if a community never expects to cover its expenses from a particular activity that it should drop that work. What I am saying is that it would be very useful to identify the apostolates that are expected to operate at financial losses over the next five to ten years. Because if projections show that certain activities will not generate sufficient income to meet expenses, then a decision to subsidize that apos-tolate will have to be made in the light of projected total financial resources, including income on investments, con-tributions, debt financing, surplus generating apostolates or a combination of all these approaches. I should like to digress for a moment and mention that while the expansion or contraction of investments in the various apostolates should not hinge merely on their ex- ~John J. Flanagan, S.J., "What I~ the Catholic Hospital Apos-tolate?" Hospital Progress, March, 1966, pp. 50-1. pected financial returns, there are other investments, those which are not directly involved in attaining the objec-tives of the order, where financial factors should domi-nate. Here I am including not only financial assets such as stocks and bonds but also such assets as the farm owned by many religious congregations. Apart from special con-siderations, such as the community's sensitivity to charges of its being land rich, the farm should be evaluated solely on the basis of its expected financial rate of return. The evaluation technique would basically first involve deter-mining the current investment in the farm in terms of equipment and building values plus the current market value of the land. One would estimate the net dollar re-turn on the farm for the next five or ten years including as your return both estimated net income from the farm and expected appreciation bf land values. An expected rate of return should then be secured by discounting these future dollar returns to the present; this rate would be compared to the return on alternative investment op-portunities. If the expected rate of return on the farm is less than 5%, the existing rate on time deposits, then one would be well advised on that basis to dispose of the farm. Determining the Costs of Apostolates In calculating the expected net financial return from each apostolate, the first step would be to examine cost experiences in the recent past as a basis for future cost projections; data for the past three to five years should be sufficient for this exercise, although it should be stressed that the usefulness of past data for projection purposes is inversely related to the degree of change experienced by the community in the recent past. Securing this infor-mation may well present some problems since the stand-ard chart of accounts used by many religious communi-ties is not structured around the various apostolates. There are usually separate accounts for the generalate, provincialate, and local houses; in addition, expenses are usually categorize.d along input (salaries, travel expenses, supplies, and so forth) and institutional (junior .college on the motherhouse campus) lines rather than focusing on the various outputs (medical care, educational work, social work) of the community. The junior college prob-ably serves more than one apostolate and these educa-tional costs should be allocated to the various works of + the community. In the same vein, the category travel ex- + penses will also include costs associated with a variety of ~" apostolates. In addition, an attempt should be made, where possible, to allocate administrative expenses among .1~i.na~.ia't P!anning the different works of the community. I am not advocat-ing a wholesale overhaul of the accounting systems, of VOLUME aa, ~96~, religious communities. I am merely suggesting a supple- 563 REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS mental technique designed specifically for long-term plan-ning purposes that will facilitate the cost projections for each of the various apostolates. In ferreting out all costs, the focus should primarily be on the educational, administrative, maintenance, and re-tirement costs associated with placing and sustaining peo-ple in the various apostolates; per capita expenses in each of these categories for each of the apostolates should be derived, summed, and projected into the future; this re-suiting figure should then be multiplied by the estimated number of people in each of the community's activities in order to secure a total estimated cost figure for each apos-tolate. Capital expenditures on building and equipment directly associated with the works of the community (par-ticularly hospitals and colleges as a result of the contin-uing trend toward separate ificorporation and ownership) should ordinarily not be treated as an expense to the com-munity although there are certainly numerous cases where, for example, debt service requirements generated by building programs could not be met by the school or hospital and constituted a severe financial drain on the religious community. One of the great advantages of identifying costs, for ex-ample, the costs of educating sisters, is that it permits one to price and compare alternative approaches to supply-ing the same or approximately the same type of educa-tion. Although I will readily admit that considerations other than financial are extremely important and even overriding in certain situations, still the right kind of fi-nancial information will at least permit a comparison of the costs of sending a person to be educated at the junior college for sisters on the motherhouse campus with the cost of education at a university. The question of which costs less will require careful analysis but the cost differ-ential will probably not be as great as might be deter-mined from examining the accounting records of many religious communities; that is, the cost may not be ap-preciably less to send a person to junior college and may, in fact, be more expensive. One of the hidden costs I am alluding to is the failure of many religious communities to fully account for the contributed services of the mem-bers of the order who are teaching in these colleges. By contributed services, I mean in this case the salary that a member of the religious community could have earned teaching at a university minus her maintenance costs at the motherhouse that are met by the community. For ex-ample, if the subsistence needs of a religious teaching at a junior college for sisters are valued at $2,000 a year while she could have earned $10,000 annually teaching at a university, then the contributed services would total $8,000. A recent survey by one of the graduates of our program in institutional administration indicated that only 50% of the junior colleges surveyed included con-tributed services in their budget as an expense to be met by the community. This omission gives a very distorted picture of the true costs of operating junior colleges. A less hidden but perhaps more controversial cost is that of depreciation. The traditional argument against non-profit institutions depreciating their capital assets is that the needed funds are not generated from operating income as with a business firm, but are commonly ob-tained through fund-raising campaigns. I feel, however, that all costs should be identified, regardless of how they are met. Moreover, communities may find donations to be a very undependable source of funds in the future. As a further point, most hospitals depreciate their capital as-sets. This policy on the part of hospitals of accounting for depreciation has been given added stimulus by third party payments which explicitly recognize depreciation as a reimbursable cost (for example, Medicare). As these third party payments become more widespread in the area of education, accounting for depreciation expenses will correspondingly grow in popularity. Again, it should be emphasized that identifying the education costs of sisters prods administrators to trace out alternative cost patterns. Another possibility, for ex-ample, is the growing practice of affiliate membership in which the person finances her own college education if at all possible, but maintains regular contacts with the con-gregation. This policy, of course, would be the least ex-pensive (it would also meet the problem of people leav-ing the community after being educated but before earning any return for the community); but the issue of the impact on vocations would certainly have to be care-fully explored. A similar analysis should be applied to maintenance, administrative, and retirement costs. Past cost data allo-cated among the various apostolates should be secured as a basis for projecting total costs in the future. The pro-jected cost of current procedures should then be com-pared with cost projections of alternative ways of meeting these needs. Projecting Net Financial Returns from Each of the Apostolates After the cost information has been properly processed, the last step in this exercise would require the projection of net financial returns for each of the various apostolates. These financial returns vary widely, depending on the particular activity. It should come as no surprise that the financial returns to religious communities are particu-larly meager from the Catholic secondary and elementary ÷ ÷ + Finandal Planning VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEI/V FOR RELIGIOUS school apostolates. For religious teaching in colleges and universities and especially for those working in the medi-cal care area where contributed services are considered as reimbursable costs, the financial returns are competitive with those received by lay people with similar qualifica-tions and experience. But the salary and fringe benefits received by the typical sister teaching in a Catholic ele-mentary school (and this is irrespective of whether the school is community or diocesan owned) falls far short of even meeting the expenses incurred by the community in placing the sister in that position. The most detailed in-formation concerning this issue has been derived from Father Ernest Bartell's study on the financing of Catholic education. The data go back to 1963-64, but they serve their illustrative purpose. They show that the per capita contributed services of religious teaching in two dioceses averaged $5425 in one diocese and $3572 in the other.3 Contributed services are specifically defined as the salary that could have been earned by the religious teaching in the public school minus all recorded parish expenditures on behalf of the religious teachers, including cash sal-aries, gifts, and convent maintenance. In addition, a rental charge imputed on the parish investment in con-vent living facilities should be deducted; this charge would be equivalent to the earnings foregone by the parish on a comparable commercial investment. In his study Father Bartell also estimated that if one religious order teaching in one of the dioceses were just to break even and recoup its educational and retirement investment in its members, then it would have had to re-ceive $1057 yearly from each of its teachers over an aver-age working life of 40 years, even assuming that these payments could be invested at 5% during the lifetime of the religious teacher.4 Since the members of this order annually remitted, after current expenses, only $360 each back to the motherhouse, the $700 difference might be looked upon as a subsidy paid by the religious commu-nity to the diocese. Now, I am not going to strongly argue for or against this particular subsidy although I do believe that alter-native ways of reducing it should be carefully examined. One way might be to negotiate with diocesan authorities for salary increases. Another possible approach might be state aid where the contributed services of the sister would perhaps be recognized as a reimbursable cost, as in the medical care field. Or the community might simply 8 Ernest J. Bartell, C.S.C., "Efficiency, Equity and the Economics of Catholic Schools," Catholic Education Today and Tomorrow: Proceedings of the Washington Symposium on Catholic Education, 1968, pp. 12-3. *Ibid., p. decide that its estimated total financial resources will be sufficient to subsidize this apostolate. Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to see a statement along the following hypothetical lines included in the formal plan of each religious community. In deciding on the op-timum amount of resources to be devoted to apostolate A, B, C, and D, we have considered alternative ways of meeting the expenses associated with each activity and have chosen the best alternative for each. Next, in esti-mating the net financial benefits [or each of the aposto-lates over the next five to ten years, we project that activ-ity A will run a large deficit. But despite this expected deficit, we wish to keep our commitment to this aposto-late and estimate that apostolates B, C, and D will gener-ate a surplus of a sufficient size which when combined with income on investments and expected donations will meet the deficit in A. I strongly feel that this type of approach will add a more realistic dimension to community planning. Finandal Planning VOLUME 28, 1969 567 LOUIS TOMAINO Religious Community and the Johari W ndow ÷ ÷ Louis Tomaino is the associate di-rector of Worden School of Social Service; Our Lady of the Lake Col-lege; San Antonio, Texas 78207. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 568 The building of effective human community is gen-erally regarded as one of the most critical issues facing religious orders now and in the near future. Such community spirit is essentially a group phenomenon and it may be that certain findings in group dynamics are very relevant to religious communities. In this paper we are concerned mainly with communities of women. In evaluating the kinds of relationships present in human community, a conceptual model designed by Joe Luft and Harry Ingham for use in the National Train-ing Laboratories seems particularly helpful. It is called the Johari Window.1 This model, although not prepared specifically for religious, states that the sister by her actions and words in the community, projects a kind of "window" of herself which is viewed by others. Other members of the community likewise project similar windows and the sum total of these projections is a powerful dynamic which fashions group relationships in that community. The Johari Window represents four kinds of informa-tion which governs the flow of relationships among community members involved. This includes: A. Things the sister knows about herself and the community and about her feelings about others. B. Things the sister does not know about herself and the community and about her relationships with others. C. Things others in the community know about the sister and the community. D. Things others do not know about sister and the community and about the relationships therein. By "things" we mean sisters' thoughts, impulses, desires, fears, fantasies, prejudices, hopes, dreams and goals. Thus, sister's Johari might look like this: a Joseph Luft, "Johari's Window," Human Relations Training News, v. 5 (1961), p. 6. Things known by others Things unknown by others Things known by sister THE ARENA (open area of the re-lationship) THE FACADE (are~ of hidden de-fenses) Things unknown by sister THE BLIND SPOT (realities not recog-nized) THE UNKNOWN (unexplored reali-ties) 1. The Arena--This is that part of the relationship which is open: ". the cards are on the table." This refers to that part of sister that is completely honest because she faces community issues in the open. When group issues or problems are known and faced by all members openly, we say that these things are in the arena. 2. The Blind Spot This area comprises those thoughts, feelings, and so forth which sister has, but of which she is not aware. However, others in the com-munity do see these things in her because her actions and words make them visible. For example, the sister with definite authoritarian leanings may not recognize this tendency in her interactions with others, but others see itl 3. The Facade--This area consists of feelings, moti-vations, and so forth which sister has, but keeps hidden for whatever reason, oftentimes because she may con-sider their revelation as inappropriate. Therefore, while she knows these things about herself, other community members are not able to perceive them. 4. The Unknown--This includes those aspects of sister's group relations which are unexplored, latent, unconscious, and simply not known. The goal in building community is to make the Arena as large as possible so that conditions for com-munication are improved through openness, free inter-change and productive action. Everything we have said so far about sister can truly be said about community. Realistically, the obstacles to developing real com-munity cannot be dealt with until they are known. These hurdles cannot even be accurately identified until sister and the community develop an open arena where issues can be placed. Therefore, how does one go about establishing a large arena? Let's consider two processes termed exposure and feedback and how they may be utilized to alter sister's Johari. If she really opens up with other sisters, if she + lohari Win¢lo~ is not too insecure to discuss her own doubts and questions, sister will be revealing something of her-self. This is exposure. She will humanize herself by demonstrating that she too is subject to many of the hazards faced by others. Whitaker2 refers to four kinds of openness. Verbal openness, or the process of using direct words to express to another exactly what we mean. ,4ffective openness or the sharing with others our personal experience of boredom, depression, anger, warmth, fantasy, and physical contact. Physiologic open-ness as shown through expressing a blush, hunger, or a headache. No purpose openness is the occasional idle hour, the no-point-in-it encounter, where people are "just there" with no visible goals in mind. To do this comfortably requires real open-endedness. In performing these kinds of things the sister shows part of herself and neutralizes some of her facade. The horizontal line of the Johari is moved downward, thereby enlarging the arena, eliminating some facade and mak-ing the unknown area smaller. Feedback means simply a way of securing some knowl-edge about ourselves as individuals and as community members. It is indispensable to establishing lines of communication and to changing ourselves. This idea urges that the sister create opportunities whereby others may give her feedback on herself. This feedback might tell her things about herself which she did not previously know and thereby elimi-nate some blind spot. The perpendicular line of the Johari" is moved laterally which makes the arena larger, the blind spot smaller, and the unknown is further diminished. If the Sister desires and secures both feedback and exposure, her Johari would look like this: Feedback REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Carl Whitaker, M.D., "Open Communication from the Psycho. therapist," Existential Psychiatry, Spring, 1966, pp. 55-8. The large arena suggests that something is really happening in the life of this sister. Blind spots (I didn't realize you thought I didn't like you) are clarified. The unknown is decreased (I'm glad we both know how we feel on this point), and energies previously used to maintain facades are now diverted to more constructive purposes. The possibilities for communica-tion and change are vastly enhanced with things now put into the arena where they can be managed. We are suggesting, in effect, that those religious groups characterized by large arenas have created conditions favorable to building effective community. The sum of individual Johari's in the group tends to promote a general or average Johari for the whole community. The larger the arena, the greater the chance for ef-fective community. The question might indeed he raised: Of what value to community life are blind spots, facades, or unknowns? Some other, and extreme, windows sometimes seen in both individuals and communities are as follows: The large unknown tells that this sister desires neither feedback nor exposure. She is strictly official and operates by "the rule." Other sis-ters never get to know her. In this situation the sister is willing to expose, hence the small facade. She tolerates no feedback from others in the community and thereby does not know what others think of her. This sister constantly seeks feed-back from others but is not willing to put herself "on the line" with others. Hence the large facade. Too much facade breeds conditions for mistrust. Needless to say, the climates generated by such win-dows are not conducive to developing the kinds of + atmospheres associated with productive community life. + ÷ Some Findings about Sisters Jay Hall and Martha Williams developed a Personnel Relations Survey~ inventory of 60 items which, when s Jay Hall and Martha Williams, Personnel Relatio~ Survey, ~ohari Window VOLUME 28, 1969 571 taken by individuals, projects for them a personal Johari Window profile. Group profiles can also be averaged out on this test. In the past year this writer has administered the Johari Test to approximately 600 sisters from various congregations as part of Group Dynamics Workshops. Using a total sample of 500 sisters we are able to secure interesting data on the kinds of windows projected by sisters. Hall and Williams constructed their questionnaire in such a way that it yields a Johari for the respondent relative to his subordinates, to his colleagues, and to his superiors. It also illustrates an "average" Johari for each respondent. The generalizations about sisters which can be made from the 500 taking the test are these: 1. Sisters tend to be slightly more open than other groups tested in workshop (ex-school teachers, social workers, policemen). Given the goals and values of religious group life, however, the sisters do not appear to be significantly more open than other less cohesive groups. 2. Sisters tend to be less open with their superiors than with subordinates or colleagues. This may be a product more of unapproachable superiors than of reti-cent sisters. Sisters revealed greater facade with su-periors than with the other two groups. 3. Arenas were larger with colleagues than with the other two groups. 4. Sisters seem to be more concerned with feedback than with exposure which seems to be typical of most groups. Out of a possible high score of 50 the sisters tallied an average score of 35 for feedback and 29 for exposure. In summary the general relationship tendencies of the 500 sisters appeared as shown on following page. Looking at the type of window projected by sisters suggests information which may be helpful in develop-ing greater openness among sisters, hence more effective community. The survey shows that sisters tend to be less open with superiors than with the two other groups. How can openness be achieved in this area? Many modern theo-logians stress the fact that religious obedience can be thought of as a shared responsibility. The Holy Spirit speaks through the entire community and not only through the superior. It seems, therefore, the re-sponsibility of each individual sister to contribute to REVIEW FOR RELI$10U$ unpublished training inventory, Southwest Center for Law and the 572 Behavioral Sciences, University of Texas at Austin, 1965. E u r e 5 10 15 20 '25 30 35 45 50 5 Feedback ) 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 community development by sharing her ideas, sugges-tions, and other Johari "things" with others. If the spirit works through each person, how can the commu-nity know the will of God if each is not willing to share? In making decisions which affect the community each sister assumes a great responsibility. It has been found that decisions reached via consensus tend to be more accurate than individual or minority decisions. Consensual thinking in the community can be gained through open discussion, sharing, and listening on the part of each community member. Although arriving at such decisions in community meetings may be time consuming, their very importance suggests that the group might well afford the time involved. Creating an atmos-phere of openness requires conscious work over months or even years. Thus, we seem to be saying that human community can be nurtured by development of a large arena through the conscious use of both openness and feed-back. The documents of Vatican II, especially the Church in the Modern World, lend eloquent support to this idea as seen in the following statements: h¯f eT wheh epnr itmheit mivue lCtithuudrec hof. pbreohveivdeerds ,w aenr ee xoaf monpele h oefa rct oamndm ounneity mind, and found nourishment in the teaching of the gospel and in the sacred liturgy, especially the Eucharist. Let such a life continue in prayerfulness and a sharing of the same spirit. As Christ's members living fraternally together, let + ÷ lohari Window VOLUME 28, 1969 573 them excel one another in showing respect and let each carry the other's burdens. For thanks to God's love poured into hearts by the Holy Spirit, a religious community is a true fam-ily gathered together in the Lord's name and rejoicing in His presence . In fact, brotherly unity shows that Christ has come; and from it results great apostolic influence (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal o[ the Religious Li[e, n. 15). Thus it is evident to everyone that all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity. By this holi-ness a more human way of life is promoted even in this earthly society (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, n. 40, par. 3). The People of God and the human race in whose midst it lives render service to each other. Thus the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact, its su-premely human character (The Church in the Modern World, n. 11). Let .chapters and councils faithfully acquit themselves of the govermng role given to them; each should express in its own way the fact that all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life, n. 14). Christ arouses not only a desire for the age to come, but by that very fact, He animates, purifies and strengthens those noble longings too by which the human family strives to make its life more human (The Church in the Modern World, n. 38, par. 3). Through her individual members and her whole commu-nity, the Church believes she can contribute greatly toward making the family of man and its history, more human (The Church in Modern World, n. 40, par. 5). ÷ ÷ Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 574 JOSEPH F. ROCCASALVO, S.J. The Presence of Christ in Christian Community The presence of Christ in the Christian community is a fascinating topic, but one that is not easy to treat in a free and familiar style. This is so, because we face a difficult and important question: how can we adequately recognize this presence in our experience. In reading any answer, no matter how well formulated, we must avoid the mistake of expecting too much. The bodily Christ is hidden from our view. Unlike the Apostles who walked with Him in Jerusalem or stood close by when He preached from the waters of Galilee, His visible counte-nance cannot now be seen, touched, or handled. It is not that we feel He hides Himself capriciously; yet there are times when we are overwhelmed by our desire to see Him, without resorting to any writer's conception or artist's portrait. We are tempted to cry out: "Christ, come forthI Let Your loyal followers look upon You. Draw the screen that conceals Your presence from our hu-man eyes." But despite our pleas there is no physical ap-pearance, and we would not dare to hope for one. In addressing myself to the preceding difficulty, I shall formulate my answer through an indirect use of con-cepts. By this I mean that such concepts will try to illumine for the reader the experience they point to, without intending to adequate it entirely. Since we are dealing with the most personal dimension of Christianity, our faith or commitment to a Person, its ultimate signifi-cance must lie beyond the frontier of language in the do-main of mystery. Yet granting this radical incommuni-cability in the final analysis, one may use concepts as long as it is remembered that they are open to the term towards which they aspire. The reader, then, must be like one who contemplates an horizon. Beyond the outline of words he seeks perspectives which he can barely discern but which draw him precisely because of the mystery he + Joseph A. Roc-casalvo, s.J., is a member of Wood-stock College in Woodstock, Mary-land 21163. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Roccasa~o, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS senses in them. The formulation is of value, not only for what it says, but also for what it may suggest. As a point of departure for this analysis, we must start with our experience. In assigning content to this word we take. it to mean the whole range o~ the self's active relationship with the other, or the entire range of reality as disclosed to me and to which I respond. But this is my experience: it is the real as disclosed to one who is a Christian, committed to the Church and the faith of the Church. Since faith is part of my experience, part of the real as disclosed to me, it must necessarily be a Christian experience, including all that the life of faith includes. Here it must be recalled that my faith is first and foremost a commitment to a Person who has invited me to share a life in which He Himself will be my ful-fillment. In other words, my faith is a total response of mind and heart to Christ who has entered my world and lived His li~e in our midst. What, then, is the purpose of a Christian who reflects upon his experience to which his faith is interior? Since my personal relationship with Christ is a lived conviction, an intimate part of the reality that discloses itself to me, I shall try in my reflection to spell out the implications of this total commitment. I undertake this task because I am compelled by my freedom to take a personal stand towards my life and to be fully responsible for that stand. I must use the reasoned reflection of the philo-sophical method to avoid doing this naively. In brief, I shall try to discern by analysis how my personal commit-ment to Christ makes Him present to me, not in terms of revelation or the magisterium of the Church, but as dis-closed in my lived experience. This reflection, then, will help make me a more responsible and responsive Chris-tian. As I have indicated, the faith which is interior to my lived experience is fundamentally a personal commit-ment of mind and heart to the Person of Clu-ist. He has spoken to me in time, using words which He has in-tended for all men. Included within these words is the promise of continued presence, in spite of visible ab-sence: "Where two or more are gathered in my name, I am in the midst"; or, "If anyone will love me. I will mani-fest myself to him." Still again He tells us: "I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world." While I cannot expect that His presence will be manifest by some physical appearance, I may rightly expect, through trust in His personal promise, some kind of experimental awareness of His presence in and through the gathered Christian community. Our inquiry can be placed in the form of a thesis statement: whether or not there is a special presence of Christ, experienced within the Chris- tian community. If there is, how can it be described phenomenologically, and what are the requisites for this partictalar theophany? Our question can be restated more dynamically: when I experience my witness to this Person in communion with other Christians, how does He "draw nigh"? Is His presence a diffused, unthematized one, con-comitant with the consciousness of the Christian com-munity; and if this is so, how may it be thematized upon reflection? This analysis, of course, does not necessarily exclude His coming-to-presence in other ways. Before we can discover what is the special character of Christ's presence in the witnessing Christian community, we must first analyse the meaning of this rather elusive word. ~Nhat does it mean to have someone or something present? The dictionary tells us. that the word is used in at least two distinct senses: first, it can mean physical presence, namely, that which is or stands before one, in view or at hand; that which is spatially located in this place and not elsewhere. Second, the word may have a temporal significance, referring to contemporaneous pres-ence, or that which is not past or future, but is operative in the time that is now. It is precisely in these two senses of physical and contemporaneous presence that phe-nomenologists like Luijpen have described man's terres-trial life as an intentional existence in and towards the world through knowledge and love. Through knowledge the world is physically and con-temporaneously present to my consciousness as I am to it, for to know is simply to exist as present with the world. Therefore, it is through this co-presence of knowledge that the world begins to disclose itself and be for a man. ~,Vithin this disclosure the meaning of the world refers itself to other human presences, so that as I live I realize that the world presents itself, not merely for me, but for the other also. The world is present to us both, one we mutually encounter. My presence in the world is emi-nently co-presence. Gradually I begin to realize that the presence to me of persons is radically different from things. While the latter are unaware of me, in fact, are indifferent to my stature as a man, my presential awareness of persons tells me that they may take my presence uniquely into account, re-sponding warmly to my whole world of needs, concerns, and achievements. I have given the other access to myself in a way that is beyond the power of things. Of course, the responsiveness of the other to me is subject to degrees of encounter. For instance, I can meet someone with cordiality, shake hands with him, and sit down to dinner and conversation. On the other hand, I can speak to the same person on the telephone, or merely notice him on the opposite side of the street without speaking to him at The Pr,~ence o~ Christ 4, ÷ Joseph F. l~occo~a~vo, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS all. Our mutual presence to one another can remain on a distant, functional level, or it can open itself to more pro-found degrees of responsiveness. Through love my reply to the other's presence is a reply to his unique personhood. He has become for me a cen-ter of new meaning, so that whenever he comes within the range of my presence, I experience an appeal to con-sent to his, to accept it, to support and share it. He now becomes a presence which I cherish, someone who stands lovingly before me when he is visibly in view. Even when he is physically absent, his unique subjectivity grows into an atmosphere which encompasses me and abides, despite the most engrossing tasks. This is what is meant by being-loved. The other's loving presence makes my personal life be more fully and by his affection, aids and favors it. I no longer face the future as an isolated self-presence, and this alone is perhaps the most profound witness of love's contemporaneity: it has created a "we" that brings plenitude and happiness. Having seen from the preceding analysis how the per-son is present, to me through knowledge and love, we can now pass on to the next step in our analysis of Christ's communal presence. Since the Christian community is fundamentally made up of persons who confess a com-mitment to this Person as interior to their, experience, for the sake of ordered procedure we shall first describe the growth of the individual person's unique response to Christ, and then inquire what role the community played in its development. Someone may object, however, that description of such an affective relationship with Him is difficult, if not impossible, because as subject of my love, He does not come within the scope of the senses. This objection would be valid, were His visible presence abso-lutely necessary to sustain such a relationship. But as we shall see, bodily absence does not a priori exclude a personal confrontation with Him. Since "He was made in all things like unto man, sin alone excepted," or, in other words since He is wholly man, my loving commit-ment to Him will follow an interpersonal pattern. He will not let me doubt His intimate friendship with me, nor will He let me think that He is far removed to another sphere or order of creation. We are both persons, and to ascertain the degrees of encounter with one another is to see applied the formulations derived, from the phe-nomenology of love. Let us look back, for a moment, and see how presential knowledge of Him blossomed into the presence of love. As a Christian who steps back and reflects upon the history of his love for Christ, I discover that initially my contact with Him was a certain mild acquaintance, mostly derived through insertion in the world of other Christians. Through dialogue this man was seen as a source and center of activity, a Person of boundless understanding, tender heart, and constancy in action. There was a certain generous and uplifting quality about Him, which made Him both admirable and attractive. The personal dynamism of this man was present to me as something known, though somehow memorable. He was contemporaneously present to my life via the intentional-ity of knowledge. Gradually the knowledge of this man becomes in-teriorized and the remoteness of history vanishes. He is no longer a figure of the past, nor His life a fact of some past history, preserved through a lasting record. His words have a vitality which make them come alive for me, while those of other men are dead, or living only in books and monuments left behind. This man's words are timeless, and as they have beckoned to all men of all ages, they beckon to me now and call for my response: "I am the way and the truth and the light"; and again, "Come to me all you who are burdened and I will refresh you." The sheer radiance of.this man becomes indispensable in my eyes and wakens me to a new life. Admittedly His presence is not a bodily one, but in some ineffable way, His spirit is operative and quickens me now, so that He is contemporaneous with my life. His appeal to come and follow Him, to accept, support, and share His subjec-tivity is one to which I utter an uncompromising yes. I commit myself to this Person, adopt His name, and set Him up for my ideal. He is now not merely one whom I respect at a distance, but one for whom I care. I plan my destiny not alone, but with Him, for He is more to me than some unblemished truth or way of enlightenment. My whole being is seized by the desire to let Him be as He declared Himself: my very God. He is now the center of my experience, my faith, and what formerly existed as an object known in the knower, is now replaced by one who is cherished as a beloved is in a most intimate friend. This sense of togetherness between Christ and myself does not involve His bodily presence, to be sure. But it is not absolutely necessary that there be such a nearness to sustain our love. In order for two people to continue loving one another, it is not requisite that each be visibly on hand for the other. In fact, in the separation of two people in love, their affective response is still a con-temporaneous experience of a lasting bond. Their mu-tual love, despite distance, remains as a tonality, as an abiding atmosphere that permeates each other no matter what the task. How often have we heard it said: "I do not forget you; you are always in my thoughts." We do not reflect on the deep reality that lies beneath these words. We do not understand, or rather, realize, that when two ÷ ÷ The Presence Christ VOLUME 28, 1969 ,579 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Roccasalvo, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 persons are united in love, they do not need to lie visibly side by side like two bodies. They are already in each other. This is the principle of all love union, and in particular, of the intimate friendship which is that union's highest form. So it is with myself and Christ to whom I have committed my life. Indeed I look forward hopefully (as anyone who has loved) to the time when we may be reunited in a face to face encounter. But for the extent of my waking life, this Person shall remain an abiding presence for me, operative within the center of my experience. At this point in our analysis, someone might offer the following conscientious objection: how was it possible to have achieved such a loving relationship with Christ, let alone sustain His contemporaneous presence, when one never had the occasion to confront Him in person? Is it not necessary to "ground," in some way, my power to respond? It is here that one must analyse the delicate role of the Christian community in aiding the growth of my personal commitment to Christ. Since I have discovered Him as the personal center of my life, He has also been disclosed as that center to which the common-unity of Christians offer their affirmation of love. Therefore, my commitment to this Person is not an insulated one. In fact, His presence as a presence-to-be. responded to in love would not have been possible if, anterior to my coming, there had not been a community that already celebrated their loving relationship to Him. This community was a "formative milieu," into which I was inserted and which allowed for this growth and re-sponsiveness in love. Therefore, just as I can only grasp myself as a person through the communal presence of other persons who appeal to me for a unique reply, so also I can only grow in a loving, presential awareness of Him insofar as He is disclosed in and through the Christian community. We will better see the roIe of the community as the place of His presence by seeking to un-derstand what transpires within its interior. In the community of Christians, the Person of Christ is the link which binds us, one to the other. This is so, because He is the point of agreement