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Issue 58.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1999. ; for rel igious Ch6sfar~ He6tages arid Cer~ter~p~rary L~v~r~g MARCH.APRIL 1999 o VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the 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, historical, 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@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondenbe 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; Xa, Tashington, 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. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission, is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling ¯ Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL. 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 118 137 communal commitment: a symposium Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation Michael Downey offers a five-step tour of the culture horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities the U.S. culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of vowed religious life. Community Living." Beginning the Conversation Doris Gottemoeller RSM opens up a discussion on the meaning of community living in regard to its theological base, its spirituality, the role of leadership, and special challenges today. 150 paschal mystery The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses Leon McKenzie proposes that the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit provide credibility for Jesus' resurrection. 158 168 From Woundedness to Union Cynthia Bourgeault presents an explanation of the psychology of Centering Prayer. On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark Pamela A. Smith SSCM reflects on her own life in the context of Mark's Gospel: What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? Review for Religious 175 184 the vowed life Friendship and Celibacy: Seeing Beauty from a "Holy Distance" Brian J. PierceOP makes the point that we need new stories and new language to affirm and celebrate the vow of chastity and the goodness and beauty of human and sexual love. Poverty: Now You See It, Now You Don't Elissa Rinere CP surveys the various meanings and implications for living the vow of poverty professed by men and women religious. 195 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1998 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fernandez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 211 Canonical Counsel: Visitation 217 Book Reviews March-April 1999 prisms How are we to observe a year dedicated to God the Father at a time when we desire to be more sensitive about sexist phrases and patriarchal soundings? The male imaging of God, both in our theology study and in our liturgical services, has come under criticism from many Christians, often stimulated by the groundbreaking work of feminist theologians--no matter that Jesus referred most often to God as Father (though he also tised other image words or examples, of course, including feminine ones). Mthough the Hebrew word Abba is used only once in the Greek Gospels--in Mark--and seldom in Paul's epistles, the significant intimacy of this word (and its relevance to Jesus' teaching the prayer "Our Father") has made it central to the Christian understanding of the relationship of ourselves to God-v-One upon whom we can call, by our being baptized into Jesus, with his love-word Abba. God, for us Christians, is above all personal. We talk to God as a persbn. In our everyday life we learn early on to call out to "Mom" and "Dad," but we do not find ourselves saying "O Parent." Parent, much as it blends masculine and feminine, is not used in personal address. So parent and other ways of avoiding the Jesus-chosen name "FathEr" do not tend to keep us true to our Christian faith. Nor is it helpful to use activity names in our sharing in the trinitarian life since all God's activities outside the :Trinity are the work of the one God. In addition, the activity titles of creator, redeemer, and sanctifier are not the warm personal words that elicit and express a love-response on our part. Review for Religious Father Walter Ong SJ, in his book Fighting for Life, makes a helpful observation about how appropriate the use of the Father word is for God. The father metaphor seems more apt for God even than a mother metaphor because of the very way that God relates to us, A mother in carrying a child in her womb for nine months knows well the meaning of "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh." In ordinary circumstances, a mother knows and feels how much this child (baby) belongs to her. A father's experience is necessarily different. A father must lay claim to a child. Leaving aside our contemporary scientific DNA testing for paternity, a father has to step forward and begin the bonding process with a baby boy or girl whom he believes is, and accepts as, the one he "fathered." We Christians understand that God steps forward and, in and through Jesus the Christ, claims us as his children. We are "daughters and sons of God," albeit "adopted" because Jesus alone merits the title "the only-begotten Son." True, we are God's creation, but we are not of the "substance" (like "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh") of God. We are claimed by God in Jesus; we are adopted. The gospel metaphor of Father, then, in a transcendent way Of choosing and claiming, has given us the relationship we rejoice in--daughters and sons who rightfully call upon God with Jesus' word Abba. God expends great energy all our life long to convince us that we are beloved ones. Perhaps we glimpse the importance of God's choosing us as beloved in Christ when we consider the criteria of the apostle. When the Eleven were considering how to fill the place of Judas after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, they used the criterion of having been present from the time of Jesus' baptism by John at the Jordan. For all of us followers of Jesus, he shares with us in our baptism what had been the consolation of his own in the Jordan event. We are taken into ¯ the circle of God's inner .life of trinitarian love. A year dedicated to God the Father help~ us appreciate more fully the graced relati6nship which we Christians, through Jesus Christ and our Scriptures and tradition, have been given the privilege of understanding--along with the ha.ppy responsibility of making our response. In balancing our images of God after the manner of Jesus, we Christians hold fast to the fact that our most basic response is our praying to God as "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1999 MICHAEL DOWNEY Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation "Peggy O'Donnell is dying." My mother was shocked when I, a first grader at Most Blessed Sacrament School, relayed the news. Peggy was a high school senior at West Catholic. She lived down the block from us in our Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. "What?" my mother asked incredulously. "Peggy O'Donnell looks just fine to me. There's nothing wrong with her." Over the course of the next few hours, my mother found out the real story via the neighborhood grapevine. "Peggy O'Donnell is leaving the world," Mother told me, "but she's not dying." But what was I to think when Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister, "Peggy's leaving the world"? Peggy did leave the world of that Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. She went to Rosemont, way out in the s~burbs, to the Convent of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus, a different world indeed from what was known to us in the city. But, however different the Michael Downey is professor of systematic theology and spir-ituality at Saint John's Seminary in Camarillo, California, and is theologian to Roger Cardinal Mahony. He edited the award-winning New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality; his most recent publication is Textual Mysticism: Reading as a Basic Spiritual Discipline. This article is adapted from the presentation given at a symposium at VCernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. He may be addressed at the Archdiocesan Catholic Center Office; 3424 Wilshire Boulevard; Los Angeles, California 90010. Review for Religious world of Peggy O'Donnell and the others out in Rosemont might be from ours, and whatever these words about "leaving the world" might have meant, deep down inside I knew that Peggy O'Donnell was still going to be in the world, part of the world. She was not dying. My mother told me so! I open with this cameo of Peggy O'Donnell because it evokes images of leaving one world and embracing another, shedding the skin of one culture so as to embrace the meanings, purposes, and values of another. But "leaving the world," moving from one world into another, shifting from the culture of an Irish Catholic village within a city to that of a convent in the suburbs of Philadelphia in 1958, was a very different sort of challenge from what religious face today amid the culture, the world, in which they live. I have been invited by the coordinators of this syrr~.posium on religious life to offer a tour of the cultural horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities our culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of the vowed religious life. I shall proceed in five steps. First, I shall address the question What is culture? (Culture, like experience or community, is a term much used in religious discourse today, but often it lacks precision.) Second, I shall identify certain shifts that have taken place in our culture, making the world a very different place from the world in which many religious were formed as children, as adolescents, and as novices. Third, I shall describe features of this culture that pose serious challenges to commitment of any kind, specifically commitment to a particular community of persons. Fourth, I shall suggest that cultural shifts, often seen negatively, can be good news precisely because they make room for something else to come into being, providing occasion for the inbreaking Spirit in the gift of hope. I shall spell out the conditions or attitudes necessary for receiving this gift of hope in our very dark age. And, fifth, I shall suggest a reconfiguration of hope for religious life and communal commitment in terms of a shift from community to communion. Culture Culture and the world are roughly approximate terms. The story of Peggy O'Donnell is intended to be a gende reminder that, in the not so distant past, religious life was another world, an alternative culture. When Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister Peggy that she March-April 1999 Downey * Luminous Traces, was leaving the world, what she meant was that she was leaving one culture for another. The word culture refers to the various forms by which meanings, purposes, and values are expressed and impressed. Culture is a language. Language here is much more than verbal communication; it is expressivity, and human beings express themselves in manifold ways. Human beings are of necessity always expressing themselves, "speechifying"--and, when they do, they do so in culture. Culture is the whole constellation of means by which human beings expres~ what is deepest and most important to them, for example, about family and progeny, social arrangements and sexual taboos, and how to deal with illness and aging. They do this through art, literature, and ritual. Culture includes the ethos of a people, the central story or vision that gives direction to their lives, the principles and governing concerns by which they gain a sense of order and cohesion in their lives. Culture encompasses economic systems, political structures, and the laws that give shape to a sense of right and wrong. Also included are the many ways in which human beings strive to express their perceptions of beauty in music, dance, architecture, and the fine arts. Because human beings perceive and pursue the gift and task ofself-expression in different ways, cultures differ, sometimes so much so that they appear irreconcilable. In other words, human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. Wherever there are human beings, there is culture. Culture is second nature to humans. Culture is what human beings do with the "stuff" of the created order, the natural world, what might be referred to here as first natui'e. Human beings a{e always taking this givenness of the natural world, this first nature, and doing something with it. The created world in which we live is the "stuff" that is taken and shaped, created. We extend and transform this givenness in accord with particularly human meanings, purposes, and values. An apple is part of nature, but making apple pie is part of culture. While daffodils belong to nature, arranging a bouquet of them is part of culture. Precious metals are mined from nature, but exchanging and wearing rings is a cultural phenomenon, expressing love and fidelity and a whole range of related meanings. Solid marble is quarried from nature's Side. When slabs of it are carefully Review for Religious designed and skillfully chiseled, the result may be a contribution to culture. There are alphabets and dictionaries, but a poem or novel is something else again. There are musical notes, but the ordering and arranging of them in a distinctive musical composition is of a completely different order. It belongs to the order of culture, second nature to human beings. Any cultural form is expressive of multiple meanings, not just one. Flowers may be arranged in a bouquet and set in a place of worship as an expression of reverence and offering. They may be sent from a lover to the beloved as an expression of affection. Flowers are sent to people who are ill in the hope of cheering and strengthening their spirits. And they may be given in times of sorrow and loss as an expression of sympathy. All these are uses of the created order, of first nature, by human beings whose nature is to talk, to "speechify." So semantically laden is the cultural phenomenon of apple pie that, for many people in the United States, to be told that someone is "as American as motherhood and apple pie" precludes need of further description of the person's character and identity. But culture is about much more than nosegays, apple pies, wedding rings, and skillfully crafted marble edifices. As second nature to human beings, culture includes everything involved in the task of being and becoming fully human. Culture, then, refers to the whole sociosymbolic order in which humans live and by which they receive and shape meaning and identity. Here it must he recognized that the extension and transformation of nature for human purposes has a checkered history. Not every cultural expression advances truly human purposes. Not all humanpurposes are worthy as such, that is, simply because they are human. And not every value that human beings perceive as such is in fact so. From a Christian perspective, it is prayerful attention to the Spirit of God present in the world and moving human hearts toward God that opens up, orients, and often reorients culture to authentic human meanings, ptirposes, and values. An observation on "American culture" before proceeding. There is no longer one unified and unifying American culture, if ever there was one. In the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, Mass is Human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces celebrated every Sunday in over forty languages and dialects. At Hollywood High School, students speak more than eighty languages and dialects. Whatever may be the sense of "American" character and identity communicated in the rhetoric of "motherhood and apple pie," does this image speak any longer to such a range of people? When, in such contexts, inherited cultural forms begin to fragment, it should come as no surprise. It is no less surprising when traditional forms of the vowed religious life become semantically empty. They no longer "speechify" the meanings, purposes, and values that are perceived and pursued as central to the vowed religious life. Culture: Coming Apart at the Seams Using an image from life in southern California, we may liken our culture to a house situated on a fault line.There is a fissure running down the center of the treasury holding what is dearest to us. The culture in which we were formed seems to be coming apart at the seams. There is seepage and spillage everywhere. Bad news. But the good news is that inherited, deeply cherished cultural forms may be giving way so that something else may come into being. To speak of culture entails talking about 'its prevailing wo~'ldview. What was the worldview in which most United States religious were formed? What was the dominant view of human life and history? What was the view of the relation between God and the world that, I suggest, is now giving way to new ways of perceiving and being? ~ First is the boundless confidence in the capacity of the human mind to know everything by means of the so-called scientific method, an affirmation of the power of reason (very narrowly understood) to think its way through just about anything. Such a lofty understanding of the powers of reason began to wane once appropriate attention was given to the facts of history, to the enormity of human suffering, which baffles and disorients even the most serene exercise of reason.2 Second, in such a worldview, there is the conviction that individuals can make and shape themselves. Together with this, there is an unprecedented affirmation of individual rights and liberties. This affirmation of individual rights and liberties enshrined in the U.S. Constitution can often eclipse the pursuit of a common good. Review for Religious Third, with roots long, deep, and strong in Christian history, a marked dualism characterizes this worldview. In such a perspective, ¯ all reality in every sphere of life is divided into two parts, with the implication that one is superior to, and dominant over, the other: mind over matter, objective over subjective, intellect over affect, the analytical over the intuitive, prose over poetry, God over humanity, humanity over nature, male over female, white over black, yellow, red, and brown, clergy over lay, American and Western European over the Third World, rich over poor, speech over silence, the strong and powerful over the wounded and the weak. The fourth feature of the worldview which shaped many of us is perhaps the most problematic of all. History is viewed as inevitably progressive. Change is always improvement, and whatever is new is better. Progress is regarded as inevitable and therefore beyond moral adjudication. Whatever can be done must be done and therefore should be done. The horrors of history, the sufferings of individuals and of whole peoples, no matter how large and how utterly incomprehensible, are seen as unseemly wrinkles in the unfolding of an inevitably better future. The sentiment lingers. It is not at all uncommon to hear from undergraduate students something like: "God must have had a plan for eliminating six million Jews. He permitted it to happen to the Jews in order to teach them a lesson for their own benefit and the benefit of humanity. We just have to accept it." Here, no matter what happens, God is in charge, controlling the universe like an absolute monarch. Today we stand at a juncture. In starker terms, we are trying desperately to straddle a fault line. The inherited worldview and cultural contours briefly described above are crumbling. Our framework is in fragments, but much of it is still in our marrow. We are reluctant to relinquish this way of perceiving and being in the world. We are slow to give up. Even though we recognize that it no longer rings true, we nonetheless cling to it tenaciously because we are not yet altogether clear about what is still coming to be. From the perspective of the student of Christian spirituality, the worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. The worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. March-April 1999 A Downey * Luminous Traces The construal of the human being as a self-made self and the unprecedented affirmation of the superiority of reason and of individual rights and liberties are not easily reconcilable with present modes of perceiving and being in the world. In contemporary Christian spirituality, there is a deeper realization that the human person is not to be defined principally as a rational animal with separate faculties of intellect and will, a composite of body and soul often at odds with one another.-Rather the person is a whole, a being defined by heart, affectus, affectivity--the capacity to be touched and drawn into relationship and interpersonal communion with another, others, and God. More importantly, people today live with an uneasy sense that there is no longer a big picture. For many people, deeply religious people no less, the world does not hang together, the center does not hold, in the way it was once thought. This puts a bold question mark before our understanding of God and the nature of God's relation to the world. God the all-powerful monarch, manipulating and controlling the universe, is simply beyond belief. It is precisely this understanding of God that cannot be sustained, and with it the worldview that rests upon it. Further, efforts to reach even the slightest measure 0fagreement on the nonnegotiable elements of a coherent worldview seem futile. Consequently, no commonly held values provide a sense of shared purpose. As but one example, over the course of fifteen years of undergraduate teaching, I would ask students year by year: "What do you value most of all? Is there anything that you would be willing to give your life for, perhaps even to die for?" Invariably there was reticence, indeed reluctance~ in the face of my question. But eventually there seemed to be some measure of agreement that "family" is what is to be valued above all else. But, when pressed to speak about the nature o~ "family," all thirty-five or more students would have different understandings of what "family" means and why this slippery term designates or suggests a value at all. It has become increasingly difficult to arrive at a common-sense understanding of "family" or of what "family values" might be. In addition to the loss of a big picture, there is a growing conviction that the future is not inevitably progressive. Today there is clearer recognition that change is not always for the better and that the future is not necessarily brighter. That is to say that history is riddled with interruption, disorientation, and a sense of randomness, indeed chance? Not everything that happens should Review for Religious be assigned to God's providence. As a variation on the theme of a rather tasteless bumper sticker: Things just happen! But the interruptive character of history, thought on first reading to be irreconcilably at odds with God's providential plan, is not of necessity so and may in fact be more in keeping with biblical understandings of God's action in history, specifically in the person of the Christ, than the view of God's providence characteristic of the inherited worldview now passing away.4 Much of what has contributed to our fundamental sense of meaning, purpose, and value is now a shambles, no matter how much we care to think otherwise: family, neighborhood, political and economic institutions, and religious life as we have known it. Efforts at retrenchment and restoration may meet with ostensibly satisfactory results in the short term, but, no matter how big the shoulders trying to hold up these and other elements of a culture-in- collapse, another course is required, not simply desirable. Rather than trying to hold up what can no longer stand on its own, what is called for is a clearing of the house, making room, so that something new can come into being. What is coming to be may find no clear precedent in human or Christian history. And it is precisely because it finds no clear precedent in Christian history that it may come into being by the presence and power of the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ. As these outer worlds of meaning and purpose and value splinter, fragment, and shatter, there is a strong tendency to turn inward for stmething reliable. Many currents in spirituality today are characterized by self-absorption, self-preoccupation, and self-fixation. Spirituality is thought to be about interiority, often to the exclusion of the wider spheres of life. The movement inward appears to go faster and faster, if not deeper and deeper, as outer worlds of meaning continue to collapse with increasing rapidity. All of this seems like very bad news, but it need not be. The hallmark of our age is the self-emptying of forms because inherited cultural forms cannot hold God. And, as they are emptied and found wanting, perhaps there will once again be room enough for the God of constant coming, whose gift always and everywhere overspills all our efforts to lock it in, pin it down in tightly knit thought forms, theological systems, and patterns of religious living. There is, then, a reason for the hope that lies within us (see 1 P 3:15): the Christ who is always and everywhere drawing us forward cannot be chained by cultural forms and worldviews, which, March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces however adequate they may be in the service of the truth, are always necessarily limited, partial. They cannot contain God. They are unable to hold the fullness of God. Recall that culture is language and is second nature to us. But no matter how deeply we are indebted to our inherited cultural forms, to the language which is second nature to us, God's giving overspills any and all mediation. Today there is a deepening sense that God is incomprehensible mystery, beneath and beyond all our efforts to dissect, scrutinize, and systematize. From the perspective of a student of Christian spiritual and mystical traditions, even as we are stalled at a cultural crossroads, we are being invited to enter more deeply into the apophatic way, to be educated in the Spirit's school of unknowing, to proceed on the path toward a dazzling darkness at the heart of which is the One whose name above all names is not God.5 For even the name God is no proper name for the One whose name beyond and beneath all naming is Love. And Life. And Light. Even and especially in the darkness. The Rhetoric of Culture: Choice over Commitment Though something new is coming to be, we are still dogged by elements of that earlier worldview that pose serious obstacles to growth and development in the spiritual life in general and the vowed religious life in pa(ticular. These may be thought of as deep wounds inflicted by our culture, whatever one may care to say about its merits. More specifically, they constitute sometimes seemingly insurmountable hurdles to comm. itment of any sort. In the not too distant past, it was common enough to give a good bit of attention to the so-called "enemies of the spiritual life." In approaches to religious formation, "particular friendships" were often viewed in such terms. Today there are indeed enemies of the spiritual life, but they are quite different from those identified in earlier approaches to formation. They must be tackled by a different strategy. As I see it, the three major obstacles that must be hurdled in any approach to commitment, specifically a lifelong commitment to a community of persons, are narcissism, pragmatism, and unrelenting resdessness.6 The first is related to the disproportionate emphasis in the culture on individual rights and liberties. We are inclined to think of ourselves first and finally as individuals who choose; or elect, to be in relationship. The self is thought to be the first and final Review for Religious arbiter, not only of meaning, purpose, and yalue, but also of all reality. Individual fights and liberties and the ability of individuals to make and shape themselves by choosing from among a multiplicity of options is, in the minds of many, of preeminent value. When traveling in different parts of the world, I often ask what impression others have of the culture or cultures in the United States. Invariably the response is something akin to: "You are very practical people. You are achievers. You get things done. You are doers." Indeed we are a practical people, pragmatists. In the mind of the pragmatist, the truth is what works. And, if it works, it must be true. We have become the people of the bottom line. We are governed by a preoccupation with outcomes, assessments, and five-year plans. We all too readily think of ourselves and others in instrumentalist, pragmatic terms. Created goods, even human lives, have become commodities. Everything is considered in terms of what gets achieved, done, accomplished, produced to satisfy the needs of some consumer. It may be useful here to recall: "If you are what you do, when you don't, then you're not." A cameo may convey my meaning here. On a visit to Santa Barbara on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I strolled from the beach to the caf~ for a cup of one of those designer coffees. Seated near me were two young women, perhaps seniors in high school or entry-level undergrads. They were hunched over huge textbooks with graphs and charts of some sort, reminiscent of those in my sophomore-year geometry book. Basking in the splendor of Santa Barbara's light while sipping away at their Starbucks, the two were studying very hard--judging from their knitted brows. In due course one looked up and said to the other in a tone at once exasperated and apodictic: "Look, if it's not common sense, it's wrong!" Hers is the voice of an age impatient with the speculative, unwilling to stay with an idea for a long time, unable to engage in the discipline of thinking something through, lacking the endurance to follow an argument to its logical conclusion. Unless it cashes out, has empirically verifiable results, some clear practical merit, why be bothered? Speculation, as in the commonplace "ivory-tower speculation," has become a nasty word. We are a people who are unrelentingly resdess. We are. hungry for experience. We live in a culture in which we are urged to keep on going, exploring options, choosing from among a myriad of possibilities. Another cameo: For me as a child in that Irish Catholic March-April 1999 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces village within the city of Philadelphia, the trick was to convince Mother and Dad to allow us one half hour in front of the television, after we had been out to play and after we had done our homework. If permitted to watch an evening TV program, my sister and I would sit glued to the television set for thirty minutes without budging. Now when Mikey, my twelve-year-old nephew, walks in the door of my home, I remind him, "No surfing in my house!" It is not the surfboard I have in mind, of course, but the TV remote control. Mikey has learned that in my home he is welcome to watch a TV program, for much longer indeed than half an hotir, but for him this takes real discipline. It is altogether different from channel surfing-~staying with this station for two minutes and that one for three minutes and the next one until it is time for ~he commercial. Mikey's TV wanderlust is not uncommon, and it is symptomatic of a much deeper wandering, squandering perhaps, of the human spirit. Unrelenting restlessness is manifest in many expressions of spirituality today. We tend to move from one thing to the next, from one approach to spirituality to another, first taking some tips from the Ignatian school, then making a retreat at a Benedictine monastery, perhaps a little lec~io divina. The "spiritual quest" can become little more than a cruise down the spirituality superhighway, gobbling up soundbite supplies of spiritual wisdom that "work for me." If it does not work for me, then I move on. Narcissism, pragmatism, restlessness! These are the enemies of the spiritual life today. They are cultural wounds, and you and I carry them with us in making, cultivating, and sustaining our religious commitments. They are in our bloodstream. We think of the individual as first and final in a way that blinds us to the relational matrix of all life.7 We are numb to the simple truth that absolutely everything is related to everything else. We are pragmatists to the core. ~Fhe fact that monks continue to rise at three in the morning to pray to God in the dark long before the dawn is virtually incomprehensible, in our culture. What good does that do? What difference does it make? What are the outcomes, the results, of praying in the dark? Why pray at all? Why live in a monastery? At least go out and do something with yourself in the real world! Make a contribution to society! Make a difference! Do something! Anything! And we are restless, indeed driven. In a culture in which the rhetoric of choice has rendered mute the language of commitment, Review for Religious many of us find it hard to stay at anything for very long. Our age is characterized by impermanence and provisionality. We find it difficult to stay with anything, and be really alive and passionate about anything, day after day, week by week, year by year. Diversion is what is constant. We move on when there seem to be no immediate results. We resist going back to the book every single day, listening long and lovingly to that Word beneath and beyond all the words, staying with it long enough to hear the beating of the heart of God beneath and beyond the cacophony and clutter of our own making, staying still long enough to find ourselves in God and there to rest--even and especially when such staying does not "work for me" or "do" any good whatsoever. The Inbreaking Spirit As cultural forms collapse around us, the appropriate response lies not in trying to hold on to them or hold them up by sheer force of will or by fuzzy references to the will of God. Nor does it lie in accommodation to the individualism, pragmatism, and unbridled restlessness characteristic of our age. It may lie in the cultivation of forms of life more in keeping with the person of Christ, the presence and power of the Spirit, and the apocalyptic sting of the gospel. Just as Peggy O'Donnell left the world in 1958 and embraced an alternative culture, the new world of Rosemont, so too the future of religious life lies in patterns of living that stand in marked contrast to a culture-in-collapse now increasingly recognized to have been a bad bill of goods. Neither is ready retrenchment or hasty rebuilding an appropriate response amid cultural fragmentation. Rather, the more effective strategy would be to create space, provide room, for the coming of something that is not of our own making. This calls for deep reserves of hope. It is precisely at the moment when our own efforts fail, when we are unable to .make and sustain our commitment, that the Spirit comes in the gift of hope--breaking in on our willful efforts to hold together and hold up what is broken, even and especially our deepest selves. In our times, isn't hope the most important virtue? And the most necessary? And the rarest? We live in a disruptive and disorienting age. On every street, behind every other door, lives someone who is deeply disheartened if not actually despairing. This may be brought on by people's awareness of massive and March-Aprll 1999 --129 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces meaningless death and the randomness of violence, by the onset of early illness, by the loss of a loved one or a job or a sense of meaning and value--or the loss of cherished ways of perceiving and being in the world. Our inability to relinquish deeply ingrained patterns of narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness signals a crisis of hope and beckons us to deeper levels of willingness to be open to this gift. What exactly is the hope that breaks in, amid the shambles, as the gift of the Spirit? As I see it, there is nothing more important to the human being than hope. People can live without faith, and many do. In our own day, certainly, many people live without explicitly religious faith, and evidence of loveless lives abounds. But people simply do not live without hope. They cannot. Hope is "the very center of a human being.''8 Though we need hope more than anything else in life, little has been written about it.9 Compared with faith and love, hope has been given little attention in the traditions of Christian theology and spirituality. Hope may be likened to the proverbial middle child, the neglected one among the theological virtues, sandwiched in between faith, which makes the first move, and love, which is preeminent in most readings of Christian Scripture, tradition, and theology. Hope is the drawing force of all human initiative. It looks to the coming of the new, the never before, the undreamt of. Hope is a pregnant, many-layered .concept. We can distinguish in it shades of meaning that the French language, for example, conveys with different terms--espoir and esperance. We can make the distinction between hope for success (espoir) and something deeper: the anticipation of a desired good, a desire-filled wanting, in a word, esperance. In a more metaphysical and religious sense, hope, esperance, is a movement of the person by which we relativize the present and all its prospects of success so as to be open to something that we realize can come only as gift. The more unpropitious the context in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper the hope is. Hope is precisely what we have when we do not have something. Hope is not the same thing as optimism that things will go our way, or turn out well. It is rather the certainty that something makes sense, is worth the cost, regardless of how it might turn out. Hope is a sense of the possible. It strains ahead, seeking a way behind and.beyond every dead end. Hope moves in three steps. First, what I hope for I do not yet Review for Religious have or see. Hope's object is future. Second, what I hope for may be difficult. But, third, I just might have it! There are no guarantees, but it just might be possible. In short, hope is directed to a future good that is hard but not impossible to attain. Its attainment, though, is in the mode of reception. Hope is the retrieval of possibilities that can only come as gift letting something come into life that is not self-generated. But with the gift comes judgment. The counterpart of hope is the admission of failure; the condition for the possibility of the Spirit's inbreaking in the gift of hope. Indeed hope of the deepest kind, esperance, calls for humility, a willingness to be judged by the gospel, to submit to its apocalyptic sting. Historical events interrupt our sense of order and cohesion. Our educational institutions have lost sight of the purposes for which they were founded. In light of the Lordship of Christ, it becomes clearer that our cultural forms, our sense of the fixedness of meaning, our grand schemes for improvement, have failed. Though hope for the future cannot come unless there is a willingness to admit failure and be judged by the light of Christ's gospel, there is in us a tenacious resistance to accepting the fact that we have failed. Without humility, poverty of spirit, and filial fear of the Lord, we remain unable to face the simple fact that our lives as persons and as a people are deeply fragmented. But the willingness to admit that the way we have done it until now is no way into the future liberates us to attend to other possibilities. It allows us to be open to voices and visions that were never heard or seen in earlier ways of perceiving and being. Admitting failure in light of the Lordship of Christ and by the presence, and power of the Spirit renders us free to receive the many gifts that, even and especially amid the ruins, are still on offer. When we relinquish the big-shoulders strategy of holding up what is falling down, we can attend to the shimmering shards amid the crumbling of our worldview and our culture, even and especially our religious culture. It is not at all uncommon to find that what we have put our energies into, indeed what we have staked our life on, proves unreliable, and that what we have affirmed in faith is no longer believable. What, then, is the reason for the hope? Can we continue to hope in such circumstances? It is precisely when faith crumbles There is nothing more important to the human being than hope. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces and love grows dim that hope really begins.'° It is in the wonder and weakness of one's faith that we find the real meaning of hope. For hope is the willingness to not give up precisely when one draws no consolation from faith. Hope does not t~ to determine how God's ways will be shown. It remains open for all new and astonishing manifestations of the divine presence. It is in our most vulnerable state that God's gift of the Spirit, in hope, comes. Hope !s indeed God's gift to the vulnerable. It is only when we are exhausted, speechless, impotent--that is, only in our radical brokenness and vulnerability, by which we participate in the kenosis of God--that God can find room enough to enter and sustain us. The hopelessness and emptiness of the darkness of our age is precisely the condition that makes hope possible. And it is in the self-emptying of inherited forms of religious life and communal commitment that we can find room for what is yet to come. Amid the ruins, our consolation and our hope are found in the One who has left behind a trace of his presence even amid the crumbling?' However much we may wish it otherwise, sometimes it is no more than a trace of God's nearness that we have. For those who are rocked and shaken to their core, shattered by the inbreaking Spirit who is the very gift of hope, shimmering traces may have to suffice, enabling us to take the next step, and the next, toward what is yet coming to be--as the gift of God's giving. From Community to Communion It is clear that inherited expressions of the vowed religious life cannot escape the self-emptying of forms that is the hallmark of our age. This gives cause for lament, and for hope. The future of religious life is ineluctably tied to the willingness of vowed members to lament what has been, what is now passing, and-- rather than trying to rebuild from what little remains of the past-- to create spaces where something of God's constant coming as gift can be recognized, named, and celebrated in memory and in hope. Forms of religious life as we have known it are giving way to something new, new forms of religious life, perhaps, but without clear precedent in Christian history. In the midst of the crumbling of forms in which community and communal commitment played a large role, lamentation can give rise to hope. As community identity " seems on the brink of collapse and communal commitments seem stretched to the breaking point, there may be gained a glimpse of Review for Religious the deeper mystery of interpersonal communion. Is it at all possible that what is presently operative in religious communities is a self-emptying of forms so that vowed members may participate more fully in the mystery of communion? The fundamental Christian mystery is that God is a communion of persons in loving relationship: Father, Son, and Spirit toward us, for us, with us, in us. The very being of God is to be in relation, to be toward us, for us, with us, in us. To be created in the image of God is to be created for relationship, for communion, for establishing, cultivating, sustaining relationships based on reciprocity, mutuality, and equality rooted in the mystery of the divine perichoresis~ To say that the whole world is created in God's image is to say that the whole of creation, every inch and ounce of it, is created for relationship. Growing in the divine likeness, reaching our true destiny as persons, is realized as we participate ever more fully in the mystery of this holy communion. And this we do as we seek to establish and sustain right relationship with self, another, others, God, and with every living creature22 Various expressions of religious life in community have sought to embody this mystery of communion. Community life and communal commitment give form to, or bring to speech, the mystery of trinitarian communion. Re!igious communities and communal commitment have been expressive of, embodiments of, a language of communion. But there is no strict equation between community and communion. The relational matrix at the heart of all the living will not pass away. It alone is the ground on which we stand, and which will withstand the splintering and shattering of the forms that have sought to speak its mystery. Butit may now be time to "speechify" this mystery of communion through the articulation of new cultures of communion that express more adequately the emergent understandings of God, human life, history, the world, and the church. It is quite possible tha~ the good word amid all this hard news is that vowed members of religious institutes have occasion to lean into, fall into, the mystery of communion--the very mystery of God whose very being is to be in relationship. This holy communion of persons divine and human is beneath and beyond all the forms. It is Hope is allowing something to come into life that is not self-generated. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces the gift given by the Word whose name is Love beneath and beyond all other words. Amid the rubble the Spirit of God in hope comes, perhaps offering an alternative possibility to the worldview which shaped us to the core, offering in its place the possibility of creating a culture of communion as a gentle corrective in the face of the narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness of our age. At this stage it is all too easy to offer forecasts about the forms religious life will take, in view of such factors as greater collaboration with lay associates and the need for a sharper ecclesial identity and a stronger sense of corporate mission according to the charism of an institute's founders. It would be easy to provide practical directives for the reconfiguration of community as participation in the mystery of communion. But doing so might be one more instance of clinging to the culture that is passing, of holding on to a worldview that would offer a consoling sense of certainty regarding an inevitably brighter future--replete with false promises and unreliable guarantees. Forecasts, clear pictures, and precise directions are at odds with the logic of the trace. What is yet to be will be shown as we make our way into the fullness of the trinitarian communion by following the traces, the luminous traces Christ has left in the gospel. Further, to see in Christ the trace of the trinitarian communion in which we live even now. Whatever new forms of religious life and communal commitment are coming to be will be cultivated and sustained only by prayerful participation in this holy communion wherein we may be given the courage to live with just a trace. Then follow it. In the shattering of ~hat we hold most dear, it is possible to see with new eyes, as if for the first time. Everywhere there are luminous traces of the mystery of communion, hidden from those who keep squinting.and straining for a neat and tidy worldview, or from those who want to build a religious culture of the rubble of the past. As religious communities continue to stretch their numbers and splinter yet further, astonishing acts of faith and love and hope continually spring forth between the cracks. Vowed religious go on, convinced that they will find a way forward. And, if there is no clear path ahead, they will make a way by responding to the gift of God's constant coming; they will follow the traces deeper and deeper into the mystery of communion between and among persons both human and divine. The traces shimmer, sometimes so brilliantly as to blind the clear-sighted: a dazzling darkness! At this juncture in the history of religious life, vowed members in Review for Religious communities of commitment are learning from the inside out the wisdom at the heart of the Christian mystic's experience of Light: If you want to be sure of the path you are on, then close your eyes and walk in the dark. It is hope, and hope alone, that takes the next step. And the next. Notes l Though I am describing the shift from "modernity" to "post[-I modernity," I am avoiding use of that terminology here. Helpful descrip-tions of the emergent post[-]modern consciousness include: Stanley J. Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996); Richard Kearney, The Wake of Imagination: Toward a Post-Modern Culture (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1988); Paul Lakeland, Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragvnented Age (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997); David Tracy, Plurality and Ambiguity: He~vneneutics, Religion, Hope (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987). 2 For a good example of the turn to historical fact in Christian the-ology, see Johann Baptist Metz, Faith in History and Society: Toward a Practical Fundamental Theology (New York: Seabury, 1980). See also Johann Baptist Metz and JOrgen Moltmann, Faith and Future: Essays on Theology, Solidarity, and Modernity (Concilium; Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). 3 See, for example, Elizabeth Johnson, "Does God Play Dice? Divine Providence and Chance," Theological Studies 57, no. 1 (March 1996): 3- 18. 4 For a treatment of the interruptive character of history, see The Holocaust as Interruption (Concilium), ed. Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza and David Tracy (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1984). 5 For a treatment of some of the issues involved in naming the God who cannot be named, see Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being, trans. Thomas A. Carlson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995). 6 See Ronald Rolheiser, The Shattered Lantern: Rediscovering the Felt Presence of God (New York: Crossroad, 1995). 7 While others have emphasized the relational character of God and its implications for human and Christian life, I am particularly indebted to the contribution of Catherine Mowry LaCugna, God for Us: The Trinity and Christian Life (San Francisco: Harper, 1991). 8 William E Lynch, Images of Hope: Imagination as Healer of the Hopeless (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1965), p.9. 9 Lynch, p. 21. 10 For a fuller treatment of my understanding of the dynamics of hope, see Michael Downey, Hope Begins V~here Hope Begins (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998). ~ Post[-]modernist Jacques Derrida uses .the image of the trace to March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces avoid speaking of presence. The image is also used extensively by Emmanuel Levinas and Paul Ricoeur. In Ricoeur the term is associated with the distanciation of the text. What is found in the narrative of an event but the trace of the event? There is no immediate access through any kind of historical reconstruction or through the forging of univocal meaning. It is intriguing that Th4r~se of Lisieux drew on the image of the trace in speaking of her faith and confidence even in the depth and dark-ness of her trial as she neared death. The title of this presentation derives from TMr~se. She writes: "Since Jesus has reascended to heaven, I can follow him only in the traces he has left; but how luminous these traces are! How perfumed! I have only to cast a glance in the Gospels . " See her Story of a Soul, trans. John Clarke (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), p. 258. ,2 For a treatment of the implications of a thoroughly relational understanding of God for the Christian spiritual life, see Catherine Mowry LaCugna and Michael Downey, "Trinitarian Spirituality," in The New Dictionmy of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 968-982. Easter (at a retreat house surrounded by cemeteries) Our propensity (as part of nature) is to f!ll up emptiness. Graves hunger for bodies and for earth and, in time, more earth as,flesh diminishes to nothing. But emptiness is essential for God. The hollow of a nest is just right for hatching and only when egg and tomb lie empty does life emerge. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Community Living: Beginning the Conversation Fmor several years I have had the growing perception that com-unity living may be the Achilles' heel of contemporary apos-tolic religious life. ("Achilles' heel" means a point of special vulnerability. Referring to the ancient myth, the dictionary defines it as "a small but mortal weakness.") Before I proceed, let me make two clarifications abdut this perception of mine. First, I see a prob-lem not with community in the abstract (an ideal which we all affirm), but with community living, an experience that is tangible and daily. Secdnd, I sense that our vulnerability consists in our inability to see what this commitment, this ideal, really requires of us. Often the mere mention of the topic brings about an awkward silence, embarrassed dismissals, or defensive equivocations. We have all heard, and perhaps even voiced, statements like these: "Community doesn't mean living under the same roof" . "My ministry is so demanding that I need time and space apart just to keep going" . "I don't want to participate in a basically dysfunctional lifestyle". "My parish [or my ministry team] is my community" . "There are no opportuni6es for community living in my locale" . and, from someone relocating her ministry, "I refuse to go from community to community and ask if they are willing to have me." Doris Gottemoeller RSlVl wrote "Religious Life: V~rhere Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in our March-April 1998 issue. The present article was her contribution to the sy~nposium at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in ~,rernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. Her address remains Sisters of Mercy of the A~nericas; 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living I believe that our inability or unwillingness to answer the questions of what community living means today and what our common obligation or commitment is weakens our credibility internally and externally. We ourselves have failed to get a clear vision of community that we can agree on and live together in, and outsiders take note of a number of confusing appearances. When we are ambiguous about this significant dimension of consecrated life, can we invite potential new members to explore this life? A number of factors and circumstances have brought us to this point of confusion and uncertainty. The adaptation and renewal mandated by Vatican Council II led us to discard many styles and expressions of community that are no longer relevant to contemporary culture and ministry. Economic factors such as the loss of parish convents, the conversion of former motherhouses to other uses, and the withdrawal from many sponsored ministries (hospitals, colleges, high schools) meant that sisters have had to seek other places to live. These are usually rented (and therefore impermanent), not associated with a ministry site, and able to accommodate only a small number--one, two, or three sisters. In these transitions we were clearer about what we were discarding than what we were choosing. (Indeed, we make choices of living arrangements today amid a flurry of considerations: companionship; cost; proximity to work, family, community members, other friends, and doctors; comfort; witness to simplicity; and so forth. All of them are legitimate, but not all are equally significant to the congregation's mission.) Moreover, after a site for community living has been chosen, there is often no set of expectations concerning behavior in one another's regard. A further indication of the silence that surrounds this issue is the nonreception given the 1994 document on community published by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL): "Fraternal Life in Community." In my view this document is a clear and sympathetic statement of the present situation of community living, offered "to support the efforts made by many communities of religious, both men and women, to improve the quality" of their community life (§6). Its composition was preceded by co.nsultation with religious in many parts of the world. It has, however, been largely unnoticed or ignored by religious--for several possible reasons. The first is, of course, its unfortunate tide.~ A second possible reason was voiced by a sister in my community: "It gives an excellent presentation of Review for Religious ? the present situation, but the solutions offered are not helpful." Is this not tantamount to an admission that the responsibility for finding solutions belongs with us? A third possible reason is the widespread resistance to any consideration of the topic--in other words, our Achilles' heel. We were not yet ready in 1994 to entertain any discussion of this issue that lies close to the heart of our vocation. Perhaps we are still not ready. But in the interest of testing that premise--and of beginning a conversation--I would offer some starting points. These reflections are offered in response to six questions: (1) What are we talking about when we talk about community life? (2) What is its theological basis? (3) What can we say about a spirituality for community living? (4) What is the role of leadership in community living? (5) What are some special challenges to living community life today? (6) What can we do to renew this dimension of our community life? Note that these questions do not focus on the past, on our previous experience of community living, or on all the factors that have altered it or contributed to our present situation. Some current resources for the reflection are "Fraternal Life in Community" and the apostolic exhortation on consecrated life, Vita consecrata. In addition, and more significantly, each congregation brings its own charism, mission, and experience to the consideration of community living, and the insights shared and directions chosen will not necessarily be the same for each congregation. What are we talking about when we talk about community living? It is impossible to describe community living in a way that anticipates every circumstance, style, and modality. As noted above, we are not talking about an abstract idea, but about a social experience. I would suggest that, put as simply as possible, community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. A significant relationship is one which is weighty, valuable, more than casual; it is multidimensional, not just spiritual, financial, social, or spatial. It is more than spiritual, that is, meeting regularly to pray together. It is more than financial, that is, sharing resources and accountability for the use of Community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living them, It Jis more than social, that is, gathering for periodic card games, meals, nights out, and so forth. It is more than spatial, that is, living under the same roof or in close proximity to one another. The relationship is significant because all of these dimensions are integrated in a mutually beneficial and ongoing way. A mutually beneficial relationship contributes to the greater integrity and well-being of each participant. It is not crippled by immature dependencies, but strives for a healthy adult mutuality of responsible caring. "Carrying one another's burdens" in time of sickness or special need is an obligfition and a privilege of community life. The benefits sought and exchanged are on many levels, for example, relationship, spirituality, ministry, and, in some cases, mentorship in a new way of life. Finally, I would suggest that a bona. fide experience of community living is ongoing. It is a stable, predictable arrangement, not a succession of sporadic episodes or chance encounters:~ In essence, community members say to one another, "I will be there for youl you c~n count on me," whatever the circumstance or need. Continuity is essential to build trust and undergird mutual expectations. Notice that this description of community living does not say anything about specific situations such as living alone, in twosomes, or in large or small communities. It should be clear, however, that "two or more people in a significant, stable, mutually growthful relationship" does not include busy professionals who only cohabit for the sake of convenier~ce and economic efficiency. It does not include "boarding houses" where anonymity and inde~pendence are the chief values. Instead, .we are talking about good-faith efforts to live a principal value of religious life. With few exceptions it will include a common residence. What is the theological basis for community living? This is a question calculated to make the eyes glaze over, because it sounds so theoretical. It is, however, the fundamental question of motivation. Why do we choose a life of community? Beyond economy, efficiency, convenience, friendship, or natural attraction, what are the reasons that are rooted' in faith, that speak to the core of our identity as apostolic religious? Are there reasons which flow from our commitment toseek God that we call a~religious vocation? I would suggest two lines of reasoning or justification for community living, starting from personal call or vocation and from ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Each of us experienced a call to a way of life, an invitation from Jesus Christ to a life of greater intimacy. We joined our various congregations because membership in that congregation makes pursuit of that way of life possible. A "way of life" is a constellation of fundamental life choices having an internal coherence and consistency. One's way of life is defined by choices about relationship to God, to the Christian community, to sexuality, to possessions, to companions, to those in need. The way of life known as religious life is a radical response to the call of Jesus who says, "I am the way." The internal coherence of a way of life means that all the parts reinforce one another. For example, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of evangelical poverty. Together we share our earnings to provide for our needs and the needs of others. Together we decide how much is enough, whether for today or for our future. A single person living alone in the world could take a vow of poverty, but it would not be the same vow that religious take. It would differ in its expression and its obligations. Similarly, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of the vow of celibacy. Together we can accept the loneliness of unmarried life because of the companionship of one another. Together we witness to the surpassing love of Christ Jesus, who calls us to be for one another in community. And so forth. Obedience, prayer, mission-- all are shaped by and within community. Community living is not an accidental dimension of the way of life we have chosen, but a determinant of the way in which we realize every other dimension. This assertion needs special emphasis with respect to ministry. Before the synod on consecrated life, there was a fear expressed in some quarters that the outcome would be an affirmation of "consecration" over against "mission," of being vs. doing, and that this emphasis would be used to promote a quasi-monastic lifestyle. In actuality, however, the synod document expresses a beautiful integration of consecration and mission: "By the action of the Holy Spirit who is at the origin of every vocation and charism, consecrated life itself is a mission, as was the whole of Jesus' life" (§72). In other words, the life itself, in every dimension and in its totality, is apostolic. Therefore, if the demands of ministry are such as to diminish adherence to the other aspeCts--for example, prayer or community life or obedience--then an imbalance has been created which needs to be corrected. A reflection on the relationship of ministry to community is a March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living good segue into a reflection on the ecclesial identity of religious life and its implications for community living. Vita consecrata presents community living as an especially eloquent sign of ecclesial community, that is, of the church's fundamental identity. Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity, not built on family ties or natural attraction, but on common values and commitments. "In this way it speaks to people both of the beauty of fraternal communidn and of the ways which actually lead to it. Consecrated persons live 'for' God and 'from' God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tendencies present in" the human heart and in society" (§41). Community is described as a "God-enlightened space in which to experience the presence of the risen Lord" (§42). It is a life in communion, which signifies and enriches the church and renders it better able to carry out its mission. Of course, being a sign of something implies a certain visibility. We have to ask: To what extent is our experience of community living visible? Who knows that sisters are present in an apartment building, a neighborhood, or a parish, and what does it sayto them? People in the world today hunger for an experience of community, for evidence that it is possible. In fact, a few years ago a group of intellectuals and public-policy experts formed a new movement called the communitarian movement. Its goal is to strengthen participatory democracy and to call on citizens to balance rampant individualism with a concern for the common good. Healthy religious communities balance individual needs with the common good day after day, in small ways and large. We do it out of love for God and for the sake of mission. If we find ways to share this experience with others, it can make the church more visible and be a gift to the world. What can we say about a spirituality for community? If the theological question deals with the why of community, the spirituality question deals with the how. What kind of spiritual focus, what kinds of practices, nourish and support community life? The first hallmark of community is that it be apostolic or outer-directed. "Not for ourselves alone" should be the watchword. As we said above, consecrated life is apostolic in its very essence. It is not that persons in religious congregations do apostolic works or have individual ministries, but that the whole way of life is for the sake of Review for Religious making visible and attractive the love of God. Community life, therefore, as an intrinsic element of the consecrated life, should be mission oriented in its intentionality and expression. An apostolic community welcomes neighbors and friends and even, at times, aliens and strangers. An apostolic community weaves the needs of the world into its spiritual consciousness and common prayer. An apostolic community shares its resources with the needy. An apostolic community responds to the concerns and priorities of the larger congregation. An apostolic community welcomes new members and introduces them to the way of life. In short, an apostolic community is not turned in on itself, isolated and self-sufficient, but open to receive and share with others. Community life is nourished by dialogu4 and prayer, ritual and celebrations. We are embodied people who need tangible expressions and symbols of shared values and commitments. From time to time we need to say what we believe in, what we question and wonder about, what we care about, and we need to hear others do the same. Every local community will have its own points of intersection, its own rhythm of coming together to speak to one another and together to speak to God. Many of today's religious entered their congregations at a time when the lifestyle was burdened with customs and practices that were no longer appropriate for contemporary life. In rejecting these, however, we sometimes lost sight of the fac.t that we still need tangible expressions of common beliefs and values. In a healthy community life, regular expectations, mutually agreed on, are complemented by spontaneous gatherings and special events. Prayer together furnishes moments of special intimacy. The congregation, in its constitutions and policies, should articulate some expectations that are common to all settings, while leaving room for local creativity. It is too great a burden for local groups to renegotiate everything every year or whenever there is a change in the membership. The common expectations should incorporate congregational feasts, texts, and traditions. Community life requires asceticism. No surprise here! We all Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Communi~ Living know that community living involves virtues and practices such as self-discipline, generosity, tolerance, and patience. It requires deliberate choices to be available to others, even to be inconvenienced by them. From time to time it gives us opportunities to "bear wrongs patiently" and to seek and to give forgiveness. Community life :is a privileged venue for discernment. The evangelical counsel that is most intrinsic to community life is obedience, not only in the sense of approvals for ministry and residence choices, but also in the sense of holding oneself open to the ongoing promptings of the Spirit in both small matters and large. The place where those prompfings can be heard, the persons who can articulate them, are often found in the local setting. Members in community are not on individual spiritual journeys that only occasionally intersect, but on a shared journey where the challenge or misadventure of one can become an opportunity for all. What is the role of leadership in creating and sustah~ing community? Over the years I have noticed the ease with which we affirm leadership in ministry and the difficulty we have affirming it in community. For example, if someone is an excellent principal or parish administrator or earns an award or grant for a creative ministry project, we are happy to congratulate her and to publish the achievement. We fail to notice, however, that congregations also have members with natural gifts for leadership within community. Here I am not thinking particularly of administrative skills, but of the ability to call the members to unity, to prayer, to responsibility for shared commitments, to celebration, and to reconciliation when needed. Years ago these were some of the responsibilities of the local superior. But now, with that role largely absorbed by province administration and with a collegial lifestyle in the local setting, we no longer have access to, nor honor, these gifts for community building. 1 am not suggesting that congregations institute an annual award for community, but I do want to point out that some sisters have special gifts for bringing out the best in the rest of us. By their example and by their initiative they help us create a more vibrant community life. Further, I suggest that this is not a second-order gift, less important than the ability to create and sustain new or difficult ministries. It is an essential gift that needs to be recognized and affirfi~ed for itself. This is particularly true because the sister Review for Religious who is especially adept at community building is often someone who is especially good at attracting, inviting, and welcoming new members, an activity that is vital to the congregation's future. I suspect that the gifts for community building are more widespread than we realize and that, by honoring them, we may encourage one another to cultivate them. In his book Religious Life as Adventure, Albert DiIanni SM says that the effective regeneration of religious communities depends on leadership from below, arising from the religious instincts at the grass roots. He counters to a degree the Nygren-Ukeritis study indicating the importance of visionary leadership for successful renewal. He suggests that this study may contain a hidden assumption, namely, that the present crisis in religious life is a functional one, a lack of leadership skills. In contrast, he maintains that the crisis has deeper roots, that it is a crisis of enthusiasm and faith, and that, if this is so, nothing will serve but a conversion of heart in a significant number of members at the base, a re-forming of congregations at the level of their faith.2 We all know of places where community is lived with special vibrancy, authenticity, and zeal. We all have women in our midst who live the life with generosity and joy. One problem we face is that too often these individuals are isolated from one another and thus their influence is dissipated. They can grow discouraged and settle into ruts of middle-class complacency--then the congregation's mission and charism are further diminished, less visible. My leadership team once had a conversation about the possibility of bringing some of these sisters together to create a "critical mass." We rejected the idea because we did not want to seem to be recognizing an "elite," or to suggest that what is required of.a Sister of Mercy is beyond the reach of any member. We decided that what is needed for vibrant communities are clear expectations, clearly expressed and honored by all. The goal is for every expression of community living to be intentional rather than associational. What are some special challenges to living community life today? There are a number of them. They are signs of our times, and represent significant challenges for individuals and congreghtions desirous of renewing community life. One is our relationship to the life of the parish and the local church. At one time most local communities were associated with parishes. The parish convent and the sisters in residence there were a symbol of the compassionate face of the church, a center of hospitality and help in time of need, March-April 1999 Gottemoeller ¯ Community Living and a witness to the reality of our way of life. Today there is no common venue where we are present. For those who would like to know more about us, there is no place to "look" for us. Perhaps a communal choice to participate in a specific parish community-- rather than shopping around for liturgies at convenient times or with congenial celebrants--might be a means of community renewal and public visibility. Related to the demise of the parish convent is the general disappearance of congregational properties for community living. As motherhouses are sold or converted to other uses and as sisters are dispersed into varied ministries, congregations have fewer sites that can accommodate a community gathering of more than two or three. Sisters gravitate into apartments because it seems there are no other choices. Congregations favor rentals because they cannot afford to purchase properties or because they have no assurance that" sisters will use congregational properties if they make them available. Of course, if a congregation's commitment to community life includes, for example, common prayer, hospitality, public witness, and multigenerational living, that commitment would involve making suitable residences available and using them. Another challenge is our simultaneous participation in multiple and sometimes intersecting communities. Our parish, our ministry setting, our professional colleagues, our family, and our friends can all make legitimate claims on us. In addition, we may be drawn to specific ecclesial and social groups such as the charismatic movement, the pro-life movement, or Call to Action. These commitments can enrich community life or strain it beyond endurance. It calls for a special discernment to strike the right balance, but participation in community life should enjoy a priority in virtue of its connection to the essence of our vowed commitment. A further challenge is the responsibility for the care of aging parents. Surely no one has a greater call on our generosity than those who have given us life. In some cases it means taking time outside other community and ministry duties to help with shopping, transportation, and similar needs. Occasionally the only way to respond to parents' needs may be to move into the family home in order to provide day-to-day assistance. These situations call for a special sensitivity on the part of community members to different family circumstances. An important question is: How can they share the burden and support one or more individual members in their ministry to their parents? Review for Religious Perhaps the most difficult challenge is the drift towards living alone. There are, of course, some reasons that justify this option. Most congregations have a few members whose psychological health is so fragile that they are unable to cope with the requirements of community living. Sometimes their coping mechanisms involve behaviors that make it extremely difficult for community members to live with them. These conditions warrant living alone, for as long as the conditions persist. It is a special responsibility of leadership to support the well-being of these members. To take another case, some ministry needs would go unmet were it not for some sisters' willingness to live, for a time, apart from the daily support of community life. A question for discernment is whether or not the ministry was chosen precisely to justify .living alone. As in the case of sisters living with aging parents, community members will want to reach out to support the individual who is at a distance. Beyond these two circumstances (and absence for the purpose of study), there is a growing tendency to justify living alone solely on the basis of personal choice. Where this choice has gained a legitimacy on a par with other community choices, the congregation's community life would seem severely compromised. Such a. choice--particularly if the sisters are healthy and actively engaged in ministry--deprives other members of the benefits of their companionship and reduces the number of community settings available. Further, the choice fails to uphold the responsibility to provide communities that can nurture new membership. Unfortunately, in some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. Finally, our experiences and desires regarding community living are affected by intergenerational and multicultural issues. Age and ethnicity (and sociocultural background, education, ministry experience, and other factors too) may condition one's style of participating in community. At times these differences may be experienced as gift, at other times as limitation. The need to In some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. March-April 1999 ,Gottemoeller ¯ Community Livin~ integrate these differences sensitively is one more reason for being clear about the congregation's expectations for community living. Moreover, in a world torn' by division and conflicting interests, "the presence of communities where people of different ages, languages, and cultures meet as brothers and sisters, and which remain united despite the inevitable conflicts and difficulties inherent in common life, is in itself a sign that bears witness to a higher reality.''3 What steps can we take to renew our community life? First, we can break the silence. We need to ask questions like: What would attract a young person to investigate our way of life? How would we welcome a potential new member and show her what our life is like? How is my spirituality nourished from our communal roots? How .does our way of life give visible witness to simplicity, communal sharing, prayer, love for one another, zeal for the gospel? We can no longe~r take for granted that nothing can be said about these matters. We may discover, in the conversation, that there is a hunger among us to talk about expectations, to be challenged out of complacency, and to live our communal life more intensely. In addition to beginning a conversation, we can resolve to "go with the life," wherever it is happening. We can affirm the vibrant communities that already exist, recognizing that they are not just happy accidents, but the fruit of effort and conviction. We can direct our financial and personal resources toward creating new communities among individuals who are willing to take the risk. We can invite other members to join existing communities that are vibrant. We can share our experience of community with associates, parishioners, inquirers, in ever widening circles. But this will be effective only if at the center a group of deeply'committed religious are living their vocation with sincerity and passion. I began these reflections by asserting that our inability to be clear about our understanding of and commitment to community living is a potentially fatal weakness. What followed were some thoughts designed to prompt the discussion and discernment that most congregations urgently need. Let me cite here a phrase that is the subtide of the document "Fraternal Life in Community": "The Love of Christ Gathers Us into Unity." This phrase captures the motive and dynamism of community life. Only the love of Christ is enough to support and sustain this way of life. Love attracts and gathers us. The process is never finished, always calling us to greater unity, greater generosity, greater zeal. This is an ideal from which we will all fall short, but one which will never be approached Review for Religious unless it is articulated in behavioral expectations appropriate to the charism and mission of a congregation. Not everything has been said here, but perhaps these reflections will be enough to break the silence and begin the conversation. The time has come, I believe, for us to consider community living with fresh eyes. The consideration can be the key to our ongoing conversion and our authentic renewal. Notes ~ During a visit with the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life in 1993, the officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Maior Superiors of Men pointed out the unsuitability of the title. The only recognition of our objection, how-ever, is a note saying: "In this text, 'fraternal' and 'fraternity' refer inclu-sively to both women and men and are, in the iudgment of the translators, the words most apt in English for conveying the fullness and warmth of communion which lies at the heart of community." 2 New York: Society of St. Paul, 1994, pp. 96-97. The Nygren- Ukeritis study referred to is "Religious-Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 390-417. 3 "Fraternal Life in Community" (1994), §56. How Often Must I Forgive? (Matthew 18) The first purple crocuses of spring forgive your indifference, your neglect of alleluias at sunshine and the reassuring spill of birdsong . from still-bare maples. March forgives your detraction and contempt for its necessary gusts and its mud like that made by Jesus with spittle and now rubbed on the face of your yard to cure it of winter. Pa~ricia Schnapp RSM March-April 1999 1dO - - LEON McKENZIE The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses St. Augustine of Hippo once asked a fascinating question about the believability of Jesus' resurrection from the dead.1 The raising of a dead man to life was as much a mystery of unspeakable proportions then as it is today, and Augustine wondered whether the proclamation of the resurrection is credible or incredible. Suppose bodily resurrection is essentially unbelievable. From Augustine's perspective in the early 5th century, most of the world believed that Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into heaven. This raised two points for consideration. On the one hand, if millions of Christians believed despite the incredibility of the Gospels, belief in the resurrection would itself be miraculous and a sign from God supporting the Christian message. On the other hand, if multitudes of Christians believed because the resurrection is credible, it would imply the resurrection is essentially believable. Nonbelievers, then, must ask themselves why they find it impossible to believe. The saint's scholarship in the art of persuasion and logic is evidenced in his formulation of the question. After reflecting seriously on the issue, it is with some ease Leon McKenzie EdD, professor emeritus at Indiana University, recendy published Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: .4 Christian Perspective. His address is 274 Adrienne Drive; Greenwood, Indiana 46142. Review for Religious that one arrives at the conclusion that the proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is highly credible. The Appeal of the Kerygrna The resurrection was credible to early Christians, in part because they heard the Good News heralded by apostles who were soon to suffer for the truth of what they announced. After the last of the apostles died, others announced the gospel, often at the risk of their lives. As historians note, those who heard the testimony of the martyrs and early apologists accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection in very large numbers. Beyond the valor of those who preached the resurrection, the message itself possessed its own intrinsic appeal. Evidently something subtle was working in the lives of converts to the Way, as the Christian life was called, something that made the Good News eminently credible. I suggest that two interior witnesses of great power were at work: the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit. The Resurrection Archetype An archetype is a pattern in the mind and a standard for discerning meaning. The profound depths of each human heart are shaped in such a manner as to influence a favorable response to the message of resurrection. This archetype can be compared, in a manner of speaking, to an instinct for what is true and good, to a natural power to grasp what is tremendously significant for human existence. This meaning structure of the human psyche, I propose, has been learned over countless years of universal human experience. The resurrection archetype cultivates a natural appetite for the central proclamation of the Christian faith, the resurrection of Jesus. The testimony of the Holy Spirit builds on this natural archetype and urges us, at the supernatural level, to affirm Jesus' resurrection as God's decisive word in history. The resurrection archetype takes its form from everyday experiences of members of the human race. The great theme of death and resurrection is etched indelibly on the world. The workings of the world reveal the death-and-resurrection motif in ordinary natural processes. Sometimes our experiences of these March-April 1999 For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection patterns of death and resurrection are so subtle that we fail to advert to them consciously. Nonetheless, these daily "texts" spelling out the meaning of the cosmos eventually enter into our hearts. Someone once said, "A perfume of promise is in the air." Even in the natural world, the very air seems to hold a promise of resurrection. Many resurrectiori themes are active in our daily lives. All we need do to discover these motifs is observe and reflect. Five of these experiences of death and resurrection are presented here: (1) the daily death and resurrection of the sun, (2) the burial of seeds in the fall and the resurrection of vegetation in the spring, (3) the death of joy that occurs in emotional depression and the eventual resurrection to a new life of happiness, (4) the promise of resurrection in the life cycles of small crawling creatures, and (5) our death each night in sleep and our resurrection in the morning. It must be emphasized again these are simply representative examples~ For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. The Daily Death and Resurrection of the Sun Each day the sun is born in the east. On many days the arrival of the sun is accompanied by a spectacular show of its glory. The golden disk goes across the sky and descends into the darkness beyond the western horizon at night. We can only imagine the power of this experience for ancient peoples who lacked a scientific explanation of what was happening. Even for us who have a scientific explanation, the experience is substantial. What dies in the gloom of the western horizon arises again in the glory of the morning sky. The Burial of Seeds and the Resurrection of Vegetation How mystifying it must have been for ancient peoples to watch the burial of seeds in the fall and the subsequent resurrection of flowers, young saplings, and crops in the spring. This universal experience of death and resurrection inscribed itself deeply in the Review for Religious human .psyche and was the cause of festivals of joy and promise. This experience was the source of myths of hope, once stripped of fantastic and sometimes bizarre details. Celebrations of new life and stories of renewed life reinforced the resurrection archetype. The Death of Joy and the Resurrection of New Life Perhaps every normal individual has experienced the death of joy on the occasion of the ordinary depression associated with such events as the death of a loved one, the loss of a friend due to a thoughtless word, the loss of a job, and even the losing of a pet dog or cat. Some persons undergo more serious depression and begin to believe they will never again experience happiness. Eventually the day arrives when joy returns, laughter is possible, and a resurrection of sorts takes place. The resurrection archetype grows stronger in our heart of hearts. The Promise of Resurrection in Small Crawling Creatures There is a hint of the resurrection of Christ, and our own resurrections with him, even in the small crawling creatures of the natural world. The larval grubs entombed in the earth emerge as beeries. The caterpillar wraps itself in a chrysalis only to come forth again as a beautiful butterfly. In its most elemental forms, nature displays signs of resurrection hope. Ancient peoples, much less distracted than we are today, could, not have missed reflecting on what meaning resides in the transformations of the least of God's creatures. The Death of Sleep and the Resurrection to Consciousness Perhaps nothing in our lives comes closer to modeling the death and resurrection motif in our experience of the natural world than the phenomenon of sleep. We lose ourselves in sleep and put aside conscious advertence only to regain ourselves and our consciousness in the daily resurrection that occurs with our awakening. At one level of explanation, we fall asleep because we are tired and arise because we are refreshed. At a more profound level of interpretation, we fall asleep and rise again as a sign of death and resurrection. These repeated experiences, universal in their scope among human beings, wrought profound developments in the resurrection meaning-structures of the collective unconscious of the race. It is not at all difficult to believe that God put resurrection motifs into March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection the world as promises of the defining event in human history, the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Functions of the Resurrection Archetype How has the resurrection archetype functioned? First, after taking form in the hearts of people who lived long ages ago, it found its way into myths that sages and storytellers told and retold about gods who died and came to life again--particularly agricultural gods, in accord with the seasons of growing. How these myths may have come to be is an interesting process, but one that is too complicated to review within this brief article.2 Suffice it to say that the resurrection archetype was the primary guide for the mythmakers who created "once upon a time" stories of gods who regularly descended to the underworld and returned later. Frequently these myths were used to explain why vegetation died in the fall and was reborn in the spring. Second, in accord with divine providence, the archetype worked to prepare the way for the acceptance of the risen Lord. After Jesus' resurrection, it continued providentially to provide, at a natural level, an interior witness to his resurrection. Upon hearing the announcement of Jesus' resurrection, a bystander who was open to God might think, "This sounds very interesting. This message resonates in my soul. The proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is supported by my entire experience of the workings of the world. Perhaps my experience of the death and resurrection themes in nature was God's way of preparing me for this message about Jesus." Now this initial natural attraction to the notion of Jesus' resurrection would probably not be put into words. Instead, the bystander in the preceding paragraph probably experienced an unspoken intuition that stirred a natural feeling favorable to the Good News. For some indefinable reason in the bystander's mind, he or she would have felt drawn to the message. Creation and the Resurrection Archetype One final issue about the archetype must be considered. The resurrection archetype" in the depths of the human psyche grew out of the universal experience of the resurrection theme in the workings of the world. But how did it happen that these Review for Religious resurrection motifs came to exist in the world? The answer is related to the very creation of the world. We read in Genesis that God created the heavens and earth and "the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep" (Gn 1:1-2). In the act of creation God rescued the world from its own nothingness. From nothingness God brought forth a dynamic world that participates in his own being. This "stamped" the world, so to speak, with the pattern of death and resurrection. The very act of bringing cosmos out of chaos is the fundamental motif of death and resurrection that is repeated everywhere in the workings of the world. The resurrection themes we experience it the world are the "traces" of the first act of creation. They are reminders of creation. The signs of resurrection manifested in the world of our experience are hallmarks of a God who brings forth something out of nothing and life out of death, a God who does things we might deem "impossible." We are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. The Holy Spirit The second interior witness to the truth of Jesus' resurrection is the Holy Spirit. One of the most revealing New Testament passages concerning the Holy Spirit's testimony to the resurrection of Jesus is Romans 8:1-17. The passage speaks to a number of major ideas. It seems as if St. Paul experienced a flood of rich insights as he dictated his letter to his scribe Tertius. "The mind that is seton the flesh is hostile to God," Paul says; "it does not submit to God's law---indeed, it 'cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God." A little further along Paul says, "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you." Finally, Paul concludes this passage by noting, "When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ." The Holy Spirit is our interior witness to several truths, all of March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection which are closely connected. First, we are children of God because Christ has set us free from the flesh, that is, from that part of us that is unredeemed. We are, in fact, on intimate, terms with the Father and even address him as Abba or Papa. Second, we are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. This is the life to which Jesus was raised after his death and burial. Third, this inheritance is due precisely to the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead. The Holy Spirit gives witness within us to our adoption, to the risen Christ, and to our inheritance of Jesus' everlasting life. The Holy Spirit testifies to the truth of the resurrection. Credence in the "Incredible" Humanly speaking, and looking only to the surface of things, it seems incredible that someone who is dead could be raised to a new life. Note that Jesus was not merely resuscitated or revived to life in the old flesh. He rose to life in a glorified body (I Co 15:1-47). In the days after the ascension and before the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, some might have thought that the message of Jesus' resurrection had "almost no chance of being accepted. But those who heard the announcement of Jesus' resurrection--the proclamation of an event long before it became a teaching--not only affirmed the resurrection, but did so in large numbers. People believed not only because they heard the words of the aposdes and their successors, but also because they were attuned to what they heard in their own hearts. That so many new people accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection from the dead in the 1 st century and that the Christian faith became so widespread in such a short time seems miraculous. The testimony of credible witnesses such as the apostles to something that seemed incredible in human terms, namely, the raising of a crucified "criminal" to a new life, evoked strong affirmations of faith. Such affirmations, however, would have been futile without the interior testimony of the resurrection archetype at the natural level of human existence and the testimony of the Holy Spirit at the supernatural level. The interior witness of the resurrection archetype and the Holy Spirit transformed a . proclamation that seemed incredible into. something utterly . -I-~6-I believable and altogether inviting. Review for Religious Notes ~ St. Augustine, The City of God, trans. G. Walsh et al. (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1958), pp. 505-508. 2 See my Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: A Christian Perspective (Charlottesville, Virginia: Bookwrights Press, 1997). The Recital Sacred was the silence as the tiny woman caressed the keys almost~ possessively. This was bliss: seven cherished friends gathered to hear her heart's story, eager to let her bare the glory of a soul poured out in ardent prayer. She knew they knew she met her God through her Magnificat of making music. Anna Marie Mack SSJ March-April 1999 -.157 CYNTHIA BOURGEAULT From Woundedness to Union ~early fifteen years ago, in his now classic Lost Christianity, .&. ¯ Jacob Needleman argued the need for an "intermediate Christianity" that might bridge the gap between the religion's lofty spiritual teachings and the ability of the average Christian to put them into practice. "Stone must become water before it can flow," he writes. "The pathos of Christendom. is that of preaching to stones that they must flow into the ocean.''~ Midway through the book there is a cameo app.earance by the Catholic monk Father Thomas Keating, at the time (1978) abbot of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts. Here he and a few associates were experimenting with a new prayer form called centering prayer, aimed at expressing the essence of the Christian contemplative heritage in a simplified form accessible to contemporary Christians. In the course of a lengthy interview, Needleman expresses excitement that Keating's experiments might be headed toward recovering that lost link, though he stops short of commending them outright. Among the many debts of gratitude I owe to this book is that it was my introduction to Thomas Keating, who has subsequently become my teacher and friend. In the sixteen years since that Cynthia Bourgeault PhD is founding director of the Maine Monastic Foundation, a network of people attempting to live the contemplative life in the world according to the Benedictine Rule. She is also an Episcopal priest, adjunct professor of spirituality at Bangor Theological Seminary, and a developmental editor for Thomas Keating. The current article has been slightly adapted from one published in Gnosis, No. 34 (Winter 1995). Her address is 526 Isabella Point Road; Salt Spring Island, British Columbia; V8K 1V3 Canada. Review for Religious interview at Spencer, there have been significant developments. A year after Lost Christianity was published, Keating resigned as abbot of Spencer and "retired" to the small mountain monastery of St. Benedict's in Snowmass, Colorado. There local interest in centering prayer quickly snowballed into a national organization called Contemplative Outreach Ltd., now a decade old and some fifteen thousand members strong. In the effort to develop a conceptual framework for the growing ranks of practitioners, Keating has produced a series of books--Open Mind, Open Heart (1987), Invitation to Love (1992), and Intimacy with God (1994)---in which he develops an increasingly cohesive and subtle vision of the Christian spiritual journey, the path of inner transformation that begins when one embraces a regular practice of centering prayer. Keating says, "The method of centering prayer was specifically developed as a dialogue between contemporary psychological models and the classic language of the Christian spiritual path." That "classic language," which envisions a progression through purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages, has guided the journey of many a saint, but for many reasons both good and bad it often fails to resonate with the spirit of our own times, where the prevailing paradigm for transformation consists of woundedness, recovery, and wellness. ls there a way of integrating these visions? Keating's system is an attempt to do just that--to sketch out a road map which begins in woundedness and ends, if one follows it all the way, in transforming union. While most of the elements are individually familiar, the system itself represents a significant new synthesis. Furthermore it is yoked to a powerful meditational praxis through which people change more quickly and deeply than through any other method I have seen. It is not exactly an "intermediate Christianity" according to Needleman's specifications, which he defines as "the accumulation of the force of inner attention" (p. 119). But, functionally, Keating seems to be achieving the desideratum that Needleman described so eloquently: to help stones become water, to take the first steps toward significant inner transformation within a classically Christian framework. Not All Meditation Is Alike Before exploring the intricacies of Keating's paradigm, it is first necessary to understand something of the properties of centering March-April 1999 Bo_ur~eault * From Woundedness to Union prayer. While common understanding might consider all meditational methods basically interchangeable in that they begin by gathering the mind and end by transcending it, Keating's entire teaching rests on the assertion that centering prayer is a distinct method whose most apparent characteristic is a tendency to trigger the unconscious. This discovery, which grew out of direct observation rather than theory, came several years after the progress report in Lost Christianity~ At that time Keating and his associates Father William Meninger and Father Basil Pennington were still thinking in terms of a renewal of contemplative prayer, the creation of an inherently Christian meditation in response to the massive defection of younger Catholics to Eastern meditational paths. Based largely on the 14th-century text The Cloud of Unknowing, centering prayer took its place among other Christian meditational forms sprouting at the time, particularly Christian Zen prayer and the "Christian Meditation" of Dora John Main. It was a devotional method pure and simple, a way of deepening and intensifying the relationship with God. There was at that point no psychological underpinning attached to it, nor even a clue that one might exist. Then in 1983 a charter group of centering-prayer initiates organized the first ten-day Centering Prayer Intensive at the Lama Foundation in San Cristobal, New Mexico, hoping to achieve a more concentrated meditative experience on the general model of a Zen sesshin. While Keating and several others in the group were well-experienced in sesshins, no one was prepared for the volume and vibrancy of emotional outpouring that flooded forth from five hours a day of centering prayer. Tears, repressed memories, deep intuitions all came to the surface in a jumble, along with a sense of catharsis and bonding among the dozen participants that to this day has not faded. From his years as abbot, Keating was used to the gradual sensitizing of the unconscious during the course of contemplative life, but not with such speed and intensity. He recalls seeing "people going through in ten days what it might have taken them twenty years to go through at a monastery." He quickly realized he had a tiger by the tail, and it did not take long to figure out why: it lay in the methodology of the prayer itself. Most meditational methods are concentrative in nature: they start by gathering and focusing the attention, whether by repeating Review for Religious a mantra, following the breath, or focusing on bodily sensation. With centering prayer, however, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. The intention in this case is simply to rest in the presence of God beyond all thought and emotion. A "sacred word" is used in the prayer, but not as a mantra, to be repeated consistently as a focal point .for attention, but simply as a touchstone for intent: when one finds oneself attracted to a thought or emotion during the course of prayer, the sacred word simply serves as a reminder to let go of the thought and rest in the bare presence of God. Thus thoughts may--and do---come and go; the idea is to develop a detached attitude .toward them. One reaches contemplation through the access point of consent, not through focused attention. If meditational methods were arranged on a scale from most concentrative to most receptive, centering prayer would be at the far end of the receptive methods, dropping below even the bare awareness of vipassana (insight) meditation or dzogchen. As Keating suspected--and transpersonal psychology has subsequently confirmed--the more receptive the meditational method, the greater the involvement of the unconscious. Concentrative methods tend to retard this "unloading of the unconscious," as Keating terms it. Receptive methods, on the other hand, foster it, particularly in an intensive group situation such as at that pioneering Lama retreat. But Keating's real intuitive leap was to recognize the import of this observation: this unloading of the unconscious was not an inconsequential side effect, but a significant purification process at work. This was the connecting link he had long been looking for, between purification as traditionally presented in Christian teaching (as a reprogramming of conscious motivation, or the struggle against sin) and the realization by contemporary psychology that such reprogramming goes only skin-deep and in fact can cause serious damage if used for repression and denial of unconscious impulses. "The real ascesis is the purification of unconscious With centering prayer, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union L ¯ J motives," Keating had long argued--but how to get at them? With centering prayer as a catalyst for the release of unconscious elements, he found his tool and his paradigm. Apophatic Psychotherapy Keating's teaching begins by fundamentally repositioning meditation in the context of a spiritual praxis. Rather than seeing it as a tool for developing concentration, relaxing stress, or accessing higher states of consciousness, he sees it as a catalyst for the purification of the unconscious. This purification is itself prayer. It is not a preparation for relationship with the higher, but the relationship itself. Upon this cornerstone he builds his paradigm of "the Divine Therapy." How does this purification work? As the unconscious unloads during centering prayer, Keating teaches, these small purifications are actually a part of a larger project. One begins to dismantle the "false self,!' the needy, driven, unrecognized motivations that govern most of our untransformed human behavior. Dovetailing classic Christian teaching with contemporary psychology, Keating suggests the false self as a modern equivalent for the traditional concept of original sin. Beginning in infancy (or even before), each of us, in response to perceived thr¢ats to our well-being, develops a false self: a set of protective behaviors driven at root by a sense of need and lack. The essence of the false self is this driven, addictive energy, consisting of tremendous emotional investment in compensatory "programs for happiness," as Keating calls them. It is this false self .that we bring to the spiritual journey; our "true self" lies buried beneath the accretions and defenses. In all of us a huge amount of healing has to take place before our deep and authentic quest for union with God--which requires tremendous courage and inner p~'esence to sustain--escapes the gravitational pull of our psychological woundedness and self-justification. This, in essence, constitutes the spiritual journey. So far this is orthodox psychological and theological fare. But where Keating takes the boldest step is in his assertion that centering prayer is a direct catalyst for this purification of the false self. As one sits in centering prayer, with the intent to rest and trust in God, the unconscious begins to unload "the emotional junk of a lifetime." Repressed memories, pain, and accumulated dull hurt rise Review for Religious to the surface and are, through an attitude of gentle consent, allowed to depart. As Keating visualizes the process, The level of deep rest accessed during the prayer period loosens up the hardpan around the emotional weeds stored in the unconscious, of which the body seems to be the warehouse. The psyche begins to evacuate spontaneously the undigested emotional material of a lifetime, opening up new space for self-knowledge, freedom of choice, and the discovery of the divine presence within. As a consequence, a growing trust in God, a bonding with the Divine Therapist, enables us to endure the process. Thus. the gift of contemplative prayer is a practi-cal and essential tool for confronting the heart of the Christian ascesis--namely, the struggle with our uncon-scious motivation--while at the same time establishing the climate and necessary dispositions for a relationship with God and leading, if we persevere, to divine union.2 For me the most fruitful connection here is the linking of the "dark night" or "cloud of unknowing" of the traditional apophatic path and the psychological process--the "darkness" of the psyche. If psychoanalysis represents "cataphatic therapy"--using words, concepts, and awareness to illuminate the darkness of our inner ground--Keating is presenting centering prayer as a kind of "apophatic psychotherapy" ("apophatic" meaning that which points one toward the ineffable beyond all words, concepts, and forms). What really happens when one enters the cloud of unknowing--resting in God beyond thoughts, words, and feelings--is a profound healing of the emotional wounds of a lifetime. As these wounds are gradually brought to the surface and released in prayer (one simply lets them go nonpossessively, rather than retaining them for inspection as one does in psychoanalysis), the false self weakens and the true self grfidually emerges. For Keating this is the real meaning of the term "transforming union." As he states in Intimacy with God, "We can bring the false self to liturgy and to the reception of the sacraments, but we cannot bring the false self forever to contemplative prayer because it is the nature of contemplative prayer to dissolve it" (p. 98). Keating does not claim that such a practice replaces the need for ordinary psychotherapy. Indeed, material that arises out of the unconscious in prayer sometimes requires the assistance of psychotherapy, particularly in cases of retrieved memories of emotional or sexual abuse. But in centering prayer this healing and March-April 1999 Bourgeault * From Woundedness to Union purification occurs within the sanctuary of prayer, combined with a deepening trust in God. So, at the same time that healing is going on at the psychological level, a deepening of the spiritual faculties is occurring as well--recollection, vigilance, attention of the heart-- leading to a blossoming of the traditional theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. The Shape of the Journey Traditionally we are used to thinking of spiritual transformation as an ascent. The effects of a spiritua~ practice, we expect, are to make us more calm, more able to cope, more filled with equanimity. Keating's model, however, suggests a different scenario. The ascent is inextricably bound to a descent into the ground of our own psyche. Thus periods of psychological ferment and destabilization are signs that the journey is progressing, not that it is a failure. As the. practice of meditational.prayer loosens repressed material in the unconscious, the initial fruits of spiritual practice, may not be peace and enlightenment, but destabilization and the emergence into consciousness of considerable pain. One woman in our group in Maine experienced this process particularly vividly. After only a few weeks of regular practice of centering prayer, she found herself increasingly tense and irritable and frequently went home from meditation to pick a fight with her husband. She was tempted to quit, but with the encouragement of the group she stayed on and cooperated with the process. What was happening (rather quickly in her case) was that a brittle control--keeping everything at a superficial level of "niceness"--collapsed almost immediately in the face of her immersion in contemplative silence. She found herself face-to-face with a deep guilt about, her second marriage and her terror that God would punish both her and her husband with cancer. Needless to say, "resting" in such a God was not a tranquil experience! But with a good deal of courage she has been able to face these feelings, work through them, and reestablish a relationship with both her husband and God on a deeper, fleer level. In my own work with centering prayer, I have learned by repeated experience that the "reward" for a period of deepening practice is often the emergence of a patch of pain long buried followed by several days of emotional turmoil, Keating calls it "the Review for Religious archaeological dig." As trust grows in God and practice becomes more stable, we penetrate deeper and deeper down to the bedrock of pain, the origin of our personal false self. The results are often horrifying to ourselves. Yet, says Keating, this does not mean that the spiritual journey is a failure, but that it is doing its job. The fruits of this unloading are more than worth the pain. In response to each significant descent into the ground of our woundedness, there is a parallel ascent in the form of inner freedom, the experience of the fruits of the spirit, and beatitude. There are several practical implications to this idea, but the paramount one--for both spiritual seekers and spiritual guides--is to recognize that centering prayer is a psychological method and will produce results in that realm, some of them initially painful. In Intimacy with God Keating recounts how a graduate student recendy did a thesis on centering prayer, along with several forms of Eastern meditation, recommending them as a way to reduce anxiety. Keating wrote back to the man saying, "Centering prayer will reduce anxiety for perhaps the first three months. But, once the unconscious starts to unload, it will give you more anxiety than you ever had in your life." For individual practitioners he recommends a limited dosage-- twenty to thirty minutes twice a day is the normal iprescription--to prevent the premature emergence of material into consciousness. Ten-day retreats rely on a trained staff to help handle a more intensive unloading process. Keating insists that the method is safe and that only in the case of serious depression or psychotic symptoms should the prayer be discontinued. By interweaving the contemporary language of healing with the traditional language of holiness, Keating extends the range of both. His synthesis is spacious, with plenty of room for .growth. For those preoccupied with their own recovery from woundedness (and many come to centering prayer by way of the recovery movement), it provides a gende and supportive context in which the process can unfold. But recovery is not the endpoint. For Keating the real goal Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. March-April 1999 Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union of the inner transformation is not one's personal healing, but the ability to be a Christian as measured by the ability to follow the teachings of Christ all the way to mystical union. For in the final analysis it is Keating's own deep mystical spirit that undergirds the entire paradigm, offering .a scale as vast as the cosmos: There remains a further energy, which is reserved for the next life. That is ~vhat theologians call the Beatific Vision. This requires freedom from the limitations of the physical body in order to experience it. This energy is so intense that, if it were not mediated by the ordinary affairs of daily life that distract us from continual contact with the divine energy, we would turn into a grease spot. This is the energy that lights the universe and forms the whirling nebulae. We can receive only a little of it at a time. In heaven we can have all we want.3 Toward an Intermediate Christianity Keating's thinking has evolved considerably since his interview with Needleman years ago, and it is still evolving. Many of his observations bear much more dialogue and fine-tuning, but at this point his appears to be a cohesive new.synthesis that offers a significant first step in the direction of a functional "intermediate Christianity." Clearly gaps are being bridged. The first of these is the gap between theory, and practice: Keating's method seems to provide a way for stones to become water. By restoring a meditational praxis--and one so uniquely consonant with the basic modality of Christianity--he has created an inner laboratory for practicing the basic gesture of faith. I have watched people like the woman in Maine confront their woundedness, heal, and come alive spiritually as they make the connection between their daily lives and what goes on in prayer. Second, Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. By repositioning meditation as a tool for purification of the unconscious--and by insisting that people do it, not just talk about it--he can be faithful to contemporary models of healing while pointing the way beyond, toward profound inner transformation in ever deepening surrender. In so doing, he has rescued us both from the vagueness of contemporary psychojargon and from the violence of traditional metaphors based on renunciation, vigilance, and Review for Religious "spiritual warfare" (as if a part of us had to be killed, or at least locked up, in order for holiness to grow). For Keating, spiritual transformation is gentle, ever-so-gentle, and holds always before one the need for integration of psyche and spirit. The one cannot dominate the other; they must proceed apace. If the spirit's role is to be strong, the psyche's is to be vulnerable, and the lion must lie down with the lamb before the peaceable kingdom will reign within. The touchstones of the entire teaching are gentleness, patience, consent, and a willingness to let the process of integration unfold with its own pace and authenticity. Of course there is woundedness, but there is holiness as well. How the two come together--not which wins, but how they join-- constitutes the unique and profound meaning of one's life, the emergence of the true self, transformed in Christ. Of Thomas Keating's many contributions~ this one is for me the most powerful. ~r Notes l Jacob Needleman, Lost Christianity (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980), p. 119. 2 Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God (New York: Crossroad, 1994), p. 3. 3 Keating, p. 103. Resurrection Power Behold the slender shoot Reaching for the light, The flower just unfurled, The barren branch Heavy with blossoms. Here is the Force That walked out of the tomb, Conquering our worst foe. Here is Life incorruptible, The Risen One waiting To spring forth in you. Teresa Burleson March-April 1999 PAMELA A. SMITH On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark How does anyone with a long-term, life-threatening, complex, and confounding chronic illness stay with it and retain humor and hope for the long haul? How does one take in and make sense of the regular reminders from endocrinologist, internist, and consulting counselor that it does inevitably get less manageable and, yes, worse? How does one stay happily productive in the face of the evidence that most folks in the same situation have long since quit work and gone on disability leave? What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? These were some of the questions--maybe the most critical ones--which I carried with me on a rainy March day to a hideaway in close proximity to tentatively budding trees and a horse pasture still tinged with the orange and yellow of winter grass. The evergreen shrubs and hedge persisted, drippingly at the moment, around the Michigan country home to which I retreated (with all my griefs in my arms, as Dylan Thomas said of lovers, and all those griefs probably everywhere else too). My IDDM--insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus, long ago labeled "britde"--was afflicting me with "diabetic fatigue," I had recently told my boss, the rector of a seminary. He affirmed my request to take some needed time away. I can get a bit gl

Issue 45.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1986. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices ave located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvIEw FOR REIolGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year: $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write i~vlr~w FOR I~LtG~OUS: EO. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel E 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 Sept. / Oct., 1986 Volume 45 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to I~v~Ew FOn REt,tG,OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~Oa REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell . Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Mary A nn Fatula, O.P. Sister Mary Ann is the Chairperson of the Theology Department of Ohio Dominican College (1216 Sunbury Road; Columbus, OH 43219). Her last article, "Trusting in the Providence of God," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1986. In company with other religious orders, we Dominicans have placed a great amount of energy into reclaiming our mission of apostolic preaching in the Church. Yet even as we have become increasingly competent and profes-sional in our ministries, more than a few of us have sensed that something is radically missing from our reappropriation and that our mission requires far more of us than the total dedication of our energies to ministry. If we are honest, we must admit to a growing pain which we too easily push aside because we fear the cost of facing its implications. We find our ministries consuming us, sapping our energies and perhaps making very little real or lasting impact on others in spite of our hectic lives. At the same time, we see that the women and men drawn to Dominican life do not come to us for the sole sake of ministry. In many cases they already have been successful in a ministry and are looking for a committed community which will nourish their prayer and service in the Church. Yet we know in our hearts that precisely what these young people desire and have aright to expect from us we seem unable to offer them. In addition, our study of Dominic shows us that his vision entailed not simply a task to be accomplished but the far more comprehensive and demanding reality of a life to he lived. As we catch glimpses of these truths, we are beginning to suspect that our desire for "something more" in our life together expresses 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 the Spirit's own cry within us for the very life to which this same Spirit has called us: a life of preaching as the apostles did, out of a rich communion not only with the Lord but also with one another. The Relation Between Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Many of us may not have reflected on the importance of community when we entered religious life, and yet we probably experienced its value, at some level at least, simply because we could not escape its structure. Today, however, we often have local settings in which hardly a semblance of com-munity life exists. On weekends no one is around; on weekdays it is difficult, if not impossible, to find one evening during a given month when even a small community is present in its totality at a supper meal. In many instances, not much binds us together except the TV set. We know by experience that simply promulgating laws does not make us choose something, no matter how valuable it is. We make free commit-ments because we have experienced the beauty of the reality held out to us, or because our hearts and minds reach out to claim a value when its beauty becomes apparent to us. Perhaps we do not experience the beauty of common life today--quite the opposite. But a deepened understanding of what common life can and must be for us could inspire us to consciously claim it anew. Far from providing "icing on the cake" to pep up our mission, so to speak, apostolic common life is literally a matter of life and death for us: if we do not reclaim it, we will perish. The interior communion and interdependence at the heart of Dominic's vision is something no structure or law can deliver to us; no outside force will hold us responsible for living it unless we ourselves do. Dominican apostolic common life, and thus the Dominican mission, will survive only if living men and women freely choose to devote their energy to living it. As M.H. Vicaire points out, Dominic renewed the apostolic life in its fullness precisely because he founded the outer element of missio upon the inne~ element of communio. The mission of itinerant preaching of God's word, the very ministry that founds the Church, was to flow from the rich interior life the Dominicans lived through prayer, the evangelical counsels, community and study. Far more than the task of merely verbal or written preaching, Dominic's mission entailed living the Word we preach with our mouths and pens, preaching in fact with our very lives. "I have come to cast fire on the earth" (Lk 12:49). We know the differ-ence between the preaching of mere words, and the kind which enlightens and sets fire to us: "Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us on the way" (Lk 42:32). Dominican preaching is meant to be both light (or the mind and warmth for the heart because that preaching Dominican Mission / 643 comes from fire in the heart. This constitutes the Dominican mission in the Church, inseparably Word and Spirit, truth and love, light and fire--the fire of loving communion lived and put into words. The Spirit of communion anointed Jesus himself in the word he proclaimed (Lk 4:18); gathering a community around him, he preached not as an isolated individual but united to his Father and also to the twelve: "Let usgo to the next towns that we may preach there also, for this is why I came out" (Mk 1:39). When Jesus sends the apostles to preach, he sends them not one by one, but two by two (Mk 6:7). A witness at Dominic's canonization process in Bologna testified, "his words were so moving that most of the time he himself and his listeners were stirred to tears." We ourselves weep when something in a speaker's heart sets fire to our own hearts. Dominic wept when he preached because he spoke of what he loved and lived in his communion with the living God and with brothers and sisters. Jordan of Saxony writes of him that his "fre-quent and special prayer to God was for the gift of true charity." In a marve-lously creative synthesis Dominic combined the itinerant preaching of the apostles with the communio of the early Church. Preaching formed the purpose of the Dominicans' prayer, study, and community; but even more, the apostolic life they lived together, the reality of their love and communion with one another in the Lord, constituted the loudest and clearest word they preached. "Living Together," Community Life, and Common Life We have learned to distinguish between mission and ministry; our mission of preaching entails living the apostolic life in its fullness, preaching what we live, while our ministries express that mission in concrete and diverse ways. In a similar manner, we can distinguish between simply living together, community living and common life. Most of us perhaps know the first reality, "living under the same roof." Like ships in the night we greet each other but have no real connection to or interaction'with one another. Some of us may know, too, the deeper reality of community life, concrete sharing of goals, interests, work, prayer, responsibilities. But the words "common life" in fact translate the Latin word communio denoting an interior reality, a union of hearts and minds which only the Spirit can effect. Certainly this communion must be expressed in concrete forms, yet its reality is far more deep and inclusive than what "living together" or even "community life" denotes. We can share many things in community and still not share the deepest reality for which we are called together, the Lord whose love makes us one. The Hebrew and Christian Scriptures which, inspired Dominic's vision 644 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 portray preachers as people joined together to receive and to proclaim the Word expressing the very life they live in communion with others. Recalling how communities gathered around the Hebrew prophets, the author of John 17 places on the lips of Jesus the following prayer: May they "be one, as you, Father, in me, and I in you." May they all "be one in us, that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." These words hint at the truth that no mere human effort can bring about communio. We have already tried human plans, projects, laws and programs, and we still find that we cannot achieve by our own efforts alone the kind of communion to which we are called as Dominicans. Only the Spirit gives life, and only the Spirit can offer us the power to live the kind of communion to which our vocation calls us, a human sacrament of the unspeakable com-munion at the heart of the triune God. When we ourselves love, we find that the closer we come to another, the more the union causes a bitter-sweet pain precisely because we cannot achieve the kind of oneness we desire. Because we cannot literally have one mind and heart with another; there remains always that final place in us which no one else can know or enter. But the Father, Son and Spirit live literally one life; in their communion no hint of division or separation exists. Our call to communio, to the common life, invites and urges us to be in some way a sacrament of this trinitarian communion. The Acts of the Apostles describes this reality among the early Christians: "The company of believers were of one heart and one soul in the Lord . . . they had all in common" (Ac 4:32). Here common life signifies not simply the sharing of material goods but ultimately the interior bond which makes them of one mind and heart in the Lord. Precisely because of this communion, the early disciples share everything in a "common life." This apostolic communio described in Acts 4:32 clearly inspired Dominic's own vision. The Rule of Augustine which he adopted for his Order opens with the proclamation that those gathered together have been called by the Lord precisely to live with one heart and mind in the Lord. And the primitive Constitution of his Order begins with this prologue: "Because a precept of our Rule commands us to have one heart and one mind in the Lord, it is fitting that., the uniformity maintained in our external conduct may foster and indicate the unity which should be present interiorly in our hearts. "" The earliest constitution of Dominic's Order thus identifies preaching not as a mere speaking of words, but as the expression of unity in the Lord which even in their diversity binds the members together in the apostolic common life. Dominican Mission / 645 The Basic Constitution adopted at River Forest in 1968 emphasizes this theme anew. The first three paragraphs speak of the mission of proclaiming God's Word, but the fourth paragraph makes clear the very heart of this mission: "Because we share the mission of the apostles, we follow their way of life as Dominic conceived it. With one soul we live in community." This distinction between the interior communion and the concrete expression of it in community life has important implications. Those who for serious reasons are unable to live in Dominican community may yet be truly living in the communion that binds us together with one heart and soul in God. Communio does have to be lived out in concrete ways, and community life is one of them, but Dominican communio is lived out also through study, prayer and ministry that flow from our interior union with our brothers and sisters in Dominic's family. We are called to foster one heart and soul in the Lord--a mystery far more deep and demanding than simply living under one roof. The Holy Spirit at the Heart of Dominican Apostolic Communion We address Dominic as "Preacher of grace" precisely because his procla- ¯ marion came not only from grace, from the Spirit's fire, but also spoke about grace, the supremacy of God's mercy and power in our lives. The Dominican mission calls us to preach from the fullness of our own experience of this mercy, our own realization that finally God's work and not our own will save us. In our attempts to renew and to live this communion among us, we are thus brought to our knees; the word of grace we are called to preach to others becomes only a "noisy gong and clanging cymbal" (1 Cot 13:1) unless it is also the word of grace we ourselves live together. In writing of love, Aquinas stresses how the activities of knowing and loving expand and enlarge us by uniting us to reality beyond ourselves. The process of becoming mature adults entails the ability to extend ourselves outside of our own limited being to others around us. Knowledge takes reality into us, so to speak, but in also lov!ng what we know we reach out in an "ecstatic" movement outward toward what we love (ST I, 16, 1). In love, we put others in place of ourselves and regard their good truly as if it were our own. The ecstatic nature of love's union in this way truly enlarges our being, increasingly actualizing us as human persons. Thomas distinguishes, however, between self-gratifying love and the love of friend-ship. In self-gratifying love, although we seem to be drawn out of ourselves to good outside us, the movement of love remains within us and focused on ourselves; we desire the good of others not for their sake but for our own (ST I, 28, 3). The love of friendship, in contrast, loves others as equals and directs 646 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 our affection outside of us to their reality precisely as other. True union thus happens only when we reach out of ourselves in an unselfish move-ment of love toward others' own uniqueness. Yet as experience itself teaches us, our own efforts alone cannot effect this kind of love. Precisely for this reason, "the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Most of our communities have engaged in some program of helping us to appreciate and to tap our own resources, especially the gift of one another. But the gift we have left most untapped is the very person of the Spirit. Aquinas notes that the Spirit's name as Gift denotes gratuitous, unreturnable bestowal, with no expectation of return. And because a gift is presented to us only so that it may belong to us, the Spirit given to us is truly ours, our possession, our gift, our Spirit (ST I, 38, 1). Dominican women especially are called upon to renew this awareness of and reliance upon the Spirit's power in our life and ministry together. If we would claim our affinity for the Spirit's tender mercy and strength within and among us, we could become ourselves a new gift in and for the Dominican family, a living gift of women who live and speak the anointed word. For the word we have preached as Dominicans too often has not conveyed or come from the Spirit's anointing. This seems to me a special contribution which Dominican women can make to the Order today: to live and to proclaim the word of truth warmed with the fire. of life. Aquinas stresses that the Word cannot be divorced from the Holy Spirit: because the Son eternally breathes forth the very love between him and the Father, the living person of the Spirit, the Word is always Verbum spirans amorem-- the Word breathing forth love (ST I, 43, 5, ad 2). Only when we internalize this truth will we live out our call to be preachers not simply of the Word but of the anointed Word. Our mission to preach the Word by its very nature thus demands our increasing submission to the Spirit of God in whom we are to find the motiva-tion and power for our life together. "Ask, and it will be given you . . . if you who are evil know how.to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Fath.er give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 11:9, 13). We need to call down upon our life together the Spirit who alone can effect the interior communio at the heart of our preach-ing mission. As Aquinas stresses, the charity at the heart of our union is a created participation in the very person of the Spirit (ST II-II, 24, 2). This is a profound and radical insight, it seems to me: the bond of love we share is in some sense nothing less than the very reality of the Spirit, the divine person of love. As a participation in this Spirit, charity heals and enlivens our capacity to love one another truly as other. Again as Aquinas Dominican Mission / ~147 comments, charity of all the virtues has the strongest inclination to its act, for it reaches out to live in a spontaneous movement of pleasure and delight (ST II-II, 24, 5, ad 3; II-II, 23, 2). Since the Spirit's own person dwells in us by charity, making his power of love in some sense our very own, charity is specifically the same act whereby we love God and also one another. The movement of selfless love that binds us to each other thus of its very nature binds us also to God (ST II, 25, 1). The interior communion at the heart of our preaching mission calls us to reach out to one another's joys and sorrows, but we know how difficult it is to do this. We may be physically in the same room, apparently speaking and listening to one another, and yet we know in our hearts how often we are not present to one another's concerns. This kind of communion can happen only when the Spirit opens us to one another. As William Hill points out, the Spirit--and not just some effect of the Spirit's activity--is the very bond in some way uniting us in apostolic communion.' Perhaps we have had tastes of this communion at a time when we were bound together in a community sorrow or joy or at a time of deep prayer and celebration. We may have experienced this interior bond when the group was lost in silence and we had an intimation that our common life is not simply words we say or tasks we do for another. As Hill notes, when the Spirit "lays fast hold of us, we begin to live from a personal center that is our own self.''2 This last insight suggests that Dominican apostolic common life is possible only at the price of a profound continuing conversion on the part of each of us. W~ are called to live not from a center of narrow interest and self-concern, but from the abundant love of the Spirit who enlarges our hearts by making room in them for the truth of one another, In the depths of our being, the Spirit "lures us to the self-transcendence" of interdependence in the midst of our diversity: "The proper domain of the Spirit is not life in isolation, but in communion.''3 Neither Jesus nor Dominic sent our people one by one to convert the world, to be individual leavens in many places. This is a valid call, but it is not ours as Dominicans. If we are to live our charism in the Church, our preach-ing must express the fire of love that we live first of all in communion with one another. Individual men and women may have 1o minister alone in special cases, but their ministry also is called to give voice to the communion at the heart of the Dominican mission. If we are truly to live what we preach and preach what we live, the word we proclaim as Dominicans must express the apostolic communion we live with one another. The apostles' own preaching had such power because it overflowed with the Spirit's love lived in communion with one another, Because the Spirit inflames and anoints our preaching only to the extent that this same Spirit 648 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 binds us in love in one another, we will rediscover what it means to be fire in the Church, as Dominic was, only when we rediscover the absolute central-ity of apostolic communion. In many instances we still do not preach and minister out of the abundant communio we live with one another. And to the extent that we do not, we are insipid in the Church, a "noisy gong" and a "clanging cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1). Each of us is called to beg the Spirit's grace in our individual life and in our life together that our preaching would in fact give voice to the communioh we live with one another. Renewing Common Life Through Renewing the Four Elements of Dominican Life Because the Spirit's grace entails the mystery of both God's activity in us and also our free human cooperation, perhaps our most significant task in deepening our communion is to give renewed attention to each of the four elements which comprise Dominican apostolic life. And for both Dominican women and men, it may well be not simply a question of reclaim-ing but also of claiming these elements as our own in a way we have never done before. With regard to the first of the elements, prayer, we realize that our preach-ing is meant to flow from the abundance of our contemplation: "'contemplata aliis tradere. "" Yet too often we find ourselves saying, "My work is my prayer; the demands of my ministry prevent me from devoting explicit time to prayer." But as Vincent de Couesnongle, former master general of the Order, commented in an address at Providence in 1982, "People quickly distinguish the preachers who speak of the Friend with whom they constantly live, from the preachers who speak of him as of a stranger and try to pass him off as a companion with whom they are on familiar terms. The first know how to speak about God, because they are in the habit of speaking to God." People are thirsting to find in us women and men of God, and they recognize our pretense when we do not pray. And because this is so, what we most owe others in our ministry is precisely what we do with our time when we are not with them. Experience itself teaches us the paradox of grace: that God accomplishes wonderful things through us when we do not devote one hundred percent of our time to ministry, when we devote ourselves also to adoration before the living God in prayer. Many of us are perfectionists who think that our time must be consumed by projects to make our ministry more effective. Without belittling these efforts, more than a few of us are discovering that redirecting some of our " energy from compulsive busy-ness to time in prayer and fostering contempla-tive peace in our lives effect far more profound results than our efforts alone could have accomplished. What we do with our time when our people do Dominican Mission / 649 not see us often bears the deepest gifts for them when they do see us. We owe the people to and with whom we minister a consecration of our time to prayer so that they will find in us living evidence that God's presence and mercy fill the world. With regard to the second element of Dominican life, we are beginning to suspect the radical nature of our call to study. Dominic identifies as the crucial element at the heart of his Order the sacred study which opens us to contemplation and preaching. And is this not what we most lack in our lives today? Again, in his 1982 Providence address, de Couesnongle stresses, "It is a systematic, deepened and persevering study that we need to under-take . If this is not the case, then spiritual suffocation awaits us. The experience of each one of us shows this sufficiently." De Couesnongle com-ments that he stopped congratulating members of the Order for working so hard precisely because "people are overworked., they believe that one has to work like this. And thus, an unbalanced life results" whose equilibrium can be regained only by "stressing more a basic study that is at once serious and prayerful." Without prayer and study, we do no real preaching. We women especially must claim as never before our call to profound study; if we think we have no time for this because of our ministry's demands, we fool ourselves. No one will force us to study; this is a priority choice we ourselves must make. We come now to the third element that fosters communio, our com-munity life. In 1980, de Couesnongle noted in his report to the General Chapter meeting at Walberberg that he too easily believed the common life could be renewed simply by insisting on meetings and rules, as if these would automatically bring results. He came to see that true community life flourishes only to the extent that each person freely chooses to commit herself or himself to a real interest in the community members and to sharing what makes up his or her own life. "The newspaper and TV . . . will simply not suffice to excite and nourish an authentic community life. How many of us know how to share with outsiders what is best about ourselves, but become soeechless with our sisters and brothers?" We need to become, as never before, women~and men of the Word shared with one another, choosing to live what Dominic asked of us by speaking to and about God with one another. Is this not what we so little do? Because very few structures foster our communio, community life will cease to exist unless we freely choose it. We easily blame those in authority for the erosion of our life together when in fact we ourselves are responsible for its life or death. If our communities die, each one of us is responsible. We must begin to speak the Word to one another, to pray together, to speak to one another of deeper matters than simply the weather. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Because mission is our purpose, our community life and sharing of the Word with one another cannot be a matter of adding more time requirements to our already busy day; our commitment to one another must be in terms of quality rather than quantity time. Even if we are fortunate enough to experience a measure of community life, it is often not communio, our shared faith in the living God, that binds us together. But by taking advantage of the opportunities we already have for quality time together, we can take the risk of improving the level of conversation at table and of sharing the Word at our prayer and house meetings. And instead of harboring anger and resentment, we can begin to speak the truth in love to one another, for even honest fights do far more to foster communio than polite silence. Candidates to our communities who may have tremendous gifts for preaching and prayer and yet do not value the commitment to communio show by this very fact that whatever call they do have, it is not to Dominican life. And we who have already consecrated ourselves to this life must con-sciously choose today what perhaps we have never really chosen before, a true commitment to the community life that fosters the communio at the heart of our Dominican mission. De Couesnongle noted in his 1982 Provi-dence talk that as we have abandoned structures, individualism and non-par-ticipation have grown, and these are the "enemy number-one of community life." "Community life demands interpersonal relationships. Are we not too easily secretive. Do we not spontaneously hide what we are?. We bottle ourselves up and dodge compromising questions." He also notes the radical nature of our present call to community, precisely because so much today militates against a true union among us. We have become as secula-rized as the world, as filled, perhaps, with a selfish individualism that makes it increasingly difficult for us to reach out of ourselves to one another. Just as we ourselves must ratify our own baptismal vows, we Domini-cans are called to make a personal choice to live in fact what we say we are living. We can no longer escape facing ourselves with the question: "Why am I here? If I want to preach as a Dominican, my preaching must come from a true communio I myself concretely live." Unless each of us squarely faces this question and lives out its implications, we will surely die as com-munities, because we will fail to live our charism in the Church. Since the Dominican tradition has always treasured the richness of plural-ity, there are and will be diverse ways of living our call to communio. Our being bound together with one heart and mind in the Lord will express itself in different ways according to the character of each local community. And if for some serious reason a Dominican must live alone, he or she can still live out the Dominican call to communio-missio by fostering in whatever ways possible a true communion, a oneness of mind and heart with the Dominican Mission / 651 brothers and sisters. As our congregations decrease in numbers, we will be forced to cooperate with one another in the kind of collaboration that the Dominican family asks of us. Increasingly we are called to minister together, to provide options for living in communities of other Dominican congrega-tions in order to preach and minister from a communio concretely lived. And we need to actively work toward these new kinds of configurations. We consider finally the relation between communio and ministry. We Dominican women especially are growing to realize that our mission is not simply ed.ucation but Dominic's mission, the preaching of God's Word through our varied ministries. Each of us needs to take personal responsi-bility for the extent to which her ministry concretely expresses this mission and to ask ourselves how we can best focus our varied gifts in the service of proclaiming the Word. Perhaps more than a few of us are called to re-examine whether the ministry to which we are devoting our energies is the one to which God is calling us now, the ministry which best utilizes our gifts for the mission of proclaiming the Word. We need also to ask ourselves whether we have allowed our ministries to consume and master us, rather than to free us in joyful service. When we fail to live the Dominican call in all of its elements, when we cheat other dimensions of our life to devote all of our energy to ministry, we find our-selves in an inevitable burnout, ministering not out of the abundance of our communion with God and with one another, but out of our own emptiness. Not every possible ministry is meant for us as Dominicans. If we are not ministering from the fullness of a contemplative peace and in a way that fosters this peace in others, we need to face the hard question of why this is so. If all that we bring to the world as Dominicans is more busy-ness, more hectic activity, we have nothing to contribute. What others need from us is not more unpeacefulness but the witness of men and women who minister from the depths of contemplative peace. This is one of the chief ways we are called as Domincans to be counte~:-cultural. When our ministry no longer fosters this peace within and around us, when it drains us end-lessly and yields nothing but unpeace, we need to take a second look at whether God is not calling us to another ministry more at the heart of our mission to proclaim the Word. De Couesnongle points out in his 1982 Providence address: "Work is not prayer., in saying we lack time we find an easy excuse. Do we have the right to present ourselves as religious whose word proceeds from the abundance of contemplation? Time is needed, if we are to pray. Let us find this time and give it to God . . . This is my dream for the Order: contemplation and preaching., preaching ex abundantia contempla- 652 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 tionis. "' This is also Dominic's dream for us. But a dream becomes reality only when we ask it as a gift from God and then with all of our hearts make a conscious choice to commit ourselves to its realization., together. In his 1970 commentary on the Fundamental Constitution, Vicaire stresses that our one profession, our one vow, integrates us "'into the communion, and it is the communion which has the mission. "" Our vow consecrates us not only to God but also to one another, for it consecrates us to be a "reli-gious community of life vowed to preaching." Our Dominican life itself "is an apostolic mission in the Church" that springs from the communion we live with one another. Vicaire continues: we are not "just a team engaged in a common task." We are "a community of life, centered essentially in faith's response to the Gospel and in the seeking for God together." Our call to the common life is the heart of our specific mission in the Church, for our preaching as Dominicans is meant to flow from our communion with God and with one another, the communion that makes us in truth of one heart and mind in the Lord. "This requires that we be a true community. We are in it for better or for worse, as in the conjugal community, until death." We need to take seriously this "conjugal" relationship not only with the Lord but also with one another, for as married people can and do tell us, real communion happens only at the cost of personal time and energy and commitment. Our Dominican mission will again bring fire to the Church and world only to the extent that it springs from and expresses the communio we live with one another. As ! write these words, 1 am conscious of how little I live them. But I also know that to run from the truth is to sell our very soul. May the words de Couesnongle spoke in Providence in 1982 about the common life as the indispensable well-spring of our preaching mission in the Church continue to knock at the door of our minds and hearts: "Each of us must feel herself or himself responsible for this. We have to pay out of our own person . Alone and in community, let us have the courage to confront this problem and then, 'Do what he tells you.' " NOTES ~William J. Hill, O.P., The Three-Personed God (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1982), p. 303. 21bid, p. 288. 3lbid, p. 307. Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is well known to our readers especially for the series of yearly surveys in spirituality he authored from 1980 through 1985. For the past year he has been Director of the Spiritual Formation Program at the North American College in Rome, where he may be addressed (00120 Vatican City State). This article originally appeared in the USIG Bulletin (Rome: no. 70, 1986), and is reprinted with permission. The spirited beauty and gracefulness of Jesus Christ has inspired the minds and hearts of women and men for centuries. They have been stirred, at times, to feats of missionary heroism all over the world. At other times, they have found encouragement for quiet, hidden faithfulness to the daily duties of a very ordinary state in life. In all these different types of heroism the moti-vation is the same: an enthusiastic love of Jesus Christ. In some way, then, Christian spirituality is always one and the same. Its beginning and end, its motive and energy always focus on that one whose words still echo in hearts today: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (Jn 14:6). But over the many years, this one, central essence of Christian spirituality has taken expression in many different forms, some of which, at times, have seemed almost irreconcilable. Whenever these different forms are misunderstood and their common rooting in one basic Christian spirituality is forgotten, then they can become competitive or even truly at loggerheads. The interrelationships of each form with the one fundamental Christian spirituality, and of the various forms among themselves, have not always been easy and clear. But as long as we are careful to maintain a lively familiar-ity with and a genuine belief in Jesus Christ as the root and foundation of 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Christian spirituality, we can speak of numerous Christian spiritualities. The following quotations are good examples of two very different dynamics within the one basic Christian spirituality: The Carthusian life rests upon a deep foundation of silence which you know and love, and it is in that depth that the Eternal Word is born for each one of us. There lies our whole vocation: to listen to Him who generates the Word and to live thereby. The Word proceeds from Silence, and we strive to find Him in His Source. This is because the Silence here in question is not a void nor a negation but, on the contrary, Being at its fullest and most fruitful plenitude. That is why it generates; and that is why we keep silent.~ Take down your lantern from its niche and go out! You may not rest in firelight certainties, Secure from drifting fog of doubt and fear. You may not build yourself confining walls And say: 'thus far, and thus, and thus far shall I walk, And these things shall I do, and nothing more.' Go out! For need calls loudly in the winding lanes And you must seek Christ there. Your pilgrim heart Shall urge you still one pace beyond. And love shall be your lantern flame.2 Though the dynamic of expression is different in these two instances, the core of the matter is the same: a heart afire with God's love in Jesus. But there will often be a very significant difference in the details of the daily living out of these two dynamics. And though the difference is never so profound asto destroy a common essence and a genuine bond, yet it is significant enough to prevent an easy identification of these two forms. My concern in this article is to describe and distinguish further these two different charisms or spiritualities, without endangering their basic rootedness in the tradition of Christian spirituality. Often in the past the Christian tra-dition has distinguished between monastic and apostolic spiritualities. I would like to suggest a further refinement of that distinction--a nuance that seems to me to be important and clarifying in these present times of struggle to understand the essence and expression of apostolic spirituality in religious life and throughout the Church. After some comments on the essence of all Christian spirituality as being apostolic, I will describe at some length what I will call two different apostolic lifestyles, charisms or spiritualities: the monastic and the active. Among the ancient world religions Christianity is unique in its strong Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 655 incarnational quality. In the Christian religion, at its center, is the claim that the Son of God became a full human being. Neither a deceptive illusion, nor a passing hallucinatory appearance, Jesus of Nazareth intimately, pre-cisely, awesomely gives flesh in our midst to the God who lives, beyond beginning or end, in unapproachable light and holiness. In Jesus, there can be no doubt that God is turned toward us forever in loving forgiveness and is ineluctably involved with and committed to our world evolving in time. In fact God is the decisive source and gentle sustainer of all being and crea-tion. And so we find in Jesus someone who enters our world confidently and profoundly, someone who lives and loves tenderly, courageously, thoroughly, and yet whose center of identity is never fully of this world. His God, addressed so intimately as Abba, "my dear Father," focuses his heart far beyond all of this world. On Calvary an apparently absurd and horrendous death can be desired, even chosen, precisely because his identity, though fully lived within this world, is not finally rooted here. And this identity is then fully revealed by God in the blessing of resurrection. The God of Christian religion always far transcends in being, beauty and life anything of this world. And so the Christian God is never fully identified with or by anything of the here and now, but, in Jesus, stands forever committed in loving forgiveness to all of us and to our created uni-verse. Fired by the same Spirit of God, all disciples of Jesus must learn to find an identity resonating in God far beyond this world while they live and love with a profound joy and hope that implicates them seriously within this world--but never so as to confine their identity to what they can see, taste and know here and now. And this balanced integration of the seriously incar-national with the transcendently eschatological has never been easy for any disciple of Jesus. There must never be any doubt of Christianity's healthy, creative and serious concern for this world. In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic. Not to be apostolic, in this sense, is simply to betray Christian discipleship. For this reason, any facile distinction between apostolic spiritu-alities and monastic spiritualities may confuse, and may even deny the healthy, creative and serious concern--the apostolic concern--with this world that must be part of monastic spirituality. Nevertheless, as the central point of this article will make clear, there are two different ways of living out Christianity's serious, loving concern for this beautiful, anguished world. A central assertion of this article is that the essential apostolic orientation of Christian spirituality can be expressed in either a monastic or an active lifestyle. And these two quite different apostolic lifestyles are the result of God's Spirit at work in the hearts of men and women. This distinction, then, 656 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 is not something simply of human invention. Over centuries, as believers have struggled to be faithful to the Spirit of God inspiring their hearts, apostolic concern for our world expressed itself in a variety of ways. The evidence for our distinction here has resulted from God's love stirring human hearts down the ages. This distinction between the two dynamics of a monastic and an active relationship with the world cuts across the whole Church. It can name the experience of lay men and women as much as it can describe different types of religious congregations. And the Church has not always found it easy to acknowledge and respect these different apostolic charisms among women and men. Today, however, as a result of Vatican II, we are in a better position to recognize and cooperate with the different ways that grace stirs human hearts to express themselves and to be present.to God. To confuse or blur these two distinctive apostolic dynamics runs the danger of not respecting God's call in human hearts and of not cooperating properly in the formation of an appropriate apostolic Christian presence. The monastic and the active styles of Christian apostolate are not meant as hard and fast divisions. Rather, they express tendencies, movements of grace in our hearts. For many people and for many religious congregations, the challenge is to achieve the proper blend of these tendencies. We are speak-ing here, then, of a whole spectrum of development, from the highly monastic with little mixture of the active, right through to the highly active with a similarly small mixture of the monastic. It is like a long clothesline, and every individual and every group in the Church may be imagined as a clothespin that God attaches to some part of the line. As we consider these two different apostolic dynamics and tendencies of grace in the human heart, the issue centers on nothing less than identity-- either the identity of an individual or the corporate identity of a religious congregation. To avoid spiritual schizophrenia and identity confusion, no pins ought to be on the clothesline in the exact center. People who try to focus identity on this central point of the spectrum attempt the impossible balance of a life in apostolic faith of exactly equal monastic and active proportions. Religious congregations that referred in the past to themselves as semi-cloistered have been invited after Vatican II more carefully and decisively to interpret their identity with clear priority for either the monastic or the active style. The semi-cloistered balancing of exactly equal monastic and active dimensions is not possible. And such identity confusion, besides the damage done an individual or a religious congregation, also wreaks havoc in the ministry which, as the product of such identity confusion, must also be con-fused and weakly focused. Before moving now to a description of each of these two apostolic dynamics and lifestyles, two further comments are in order. First, no priority Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 657 of one style over the other is intended. The claim is that the monastic and the active are different and distinctive. There is no claim that they are superior, one to the other, in any way. Second, in describing each dynamic I will center on groups or on individuals who legitimately embody each tendency in a fullness and a clarity--with little qualification and nuance. When seen in such simple clarity and fullness, the dynamic in question can be better appreciated. But it should be understood that for many individuals and reli-gious congregations, the precise challenge is for them to qualify and nuance both dynamics so as to achieve an appropriate and identifying blend of each one.3 The Monastic Apostolic Dynamic I will describe six aspects of the monastic charism. These aspects are not disparate realities that stand on their own; rather they coalesce into a whole sensibility and way of life. As integrated and unified, they make up the monastic experience of God and the monastic vision of reality. These aspects are rooted in a distinctive dynamic at work in human hearts and comprise what, in the Church's long history, is usually called monastic spirituality. 1. Formal prayer is the primary determining influence. In the monastic apostolic lifestyle, the formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, and any other private contemplation resulting from the liturgy, has a clear and decisive primacy in the development of the Whole way of life. These times of formal prayer are the first items placed in the daily schedule. They literally determine the schedule and the contour of the life. As regularly spread throughout the day, this experience of formal prayer clearly determines, not only the schedule, but the very structure of monastic spiritu-ality. The heart of the monastic person is primarily and thoroughly rapt in the contemplation of God. And simply everything reveals this primacy. 2. Order, routine, regularity and schedule are central. Because of the clear priority of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, the monastic life reveals and requires a regularity of order and schedule. Often, only Sundays"and special feasts will vary the fundamental routine of monastic life. An active prejudicefor variety as the spice of life should not lure monastic people away from a profound regularity of life in which the monastic heart is purified and disciplined for docility to the spon-taneity of God's Spirit. The disorder of any inappropriate irregularity is serious enough to trivialize the monastic experience of God. 658 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 3. Being set apart from the world in order to be part of the world. The monastic dynamic always requires an appropriate withdrawal from the world. This being set apart from the world can never become an end in itself, nor an uncaring protection from the world. Should such a lack of concern develop, the monastic life would have lost that apostolic commitment to this world which is essential to all Christian discipleship. But for the monastic heart, it is precisely through being set apart from the world that a care and concern for the world grows and is appropriately expressed. This monastic withdrawal from the world can serve as a reminder for all disciples of Jesus. "If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but the reason that the world hates you is that you do not belong to the world for I chose you out of the world" (Jn 15:19). These words of Jesus profess a type of separation from the world without which serious Christian discipleship can never be possible. The monastic separation from the world-- never meant to be a frightened disinterest, but rather a sharing in God's passionate care for this world--serves as a reminder of Jesus' words for every Christian disciple. This monastic separation from the world is expressed in many different ways. Some monasteries are situated literally out in the middle of nowhere. Others are situated in the midst of an inner city, still crumbling or now being redeveloped. Sometimes the monastic person is set apart from the world in a small, simple apartment-hermitage. Especially in experimentation after Vatican II, monastic women and men have rediscovered that the cloister of the heart contemplatively fascinated in God is the central issue, much more than any grilles and cloistered spaces. And yet, unless there is an appropriate external separation from the world, the monastic heart will be distracted and become trivialized in its simple contemplative focus on God. 4. Stability, solitude and peace figure prominently in the monastic life. From the outset, in discussing the importance of each of these three qual-ities in the monastic life, key distinction must be made between the quality considered as a profound inner reality of heart and as an external expression of that same interior reality. When stability is viewed as a profound, inner quality of heart, it typifies and would be expected of any mature believer-- and not just of the monastic person. Interior stability, as dependability and responsibility before God, always entails the refined sensitivity which dis-tinguishes God's word of true love from the many other seductive words of apparent and fallacious love heard at times within the human heart. This inner stability and refined insight comprise the core of faith maturity and, therefore, would be at the very heart of both monastic and active apostolic lifestyles. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 659 But there is an appropriate external expression of this inner stability of heart that typifies the monastic lifestyle and not the active. Vowed stability in a monastic congregation, though surely a profound reality of heart in all the members, also unites them in this specific place with a communal bond that facilitates their ongoing search together into God. This kind of external stability, while stimulating profound communal experience of God in the monastic life, obviously interferes with the mobility of the active life. To appreciate the necessary role of solitude in the monastic life, the same distinction must be applied. A regular experience of solitude alone with and in God is another sign of every mature believer, whether called to the monas-tic or the active life. Without such experience of God in solitude, we remain superficial and immature, in our experience of life, ourselves and God. One of the dangers that could weaken the Church's ministry today, especially in the active form, is the situation in which active apostles become too busy for regular prayer in solitude--with the result that their faith becomes immature, superficial and indecisive. But for the monastic heart there must be an appropriate external expression and atmosphere of quiet solitude if one is to maintain a live witness within the Church of an inner solitude with God, a nourishment for which all our hearts year9 and are made. In a similar fashion, peace, as a deep inner quality of heart, is Jesus' gift to every serious disciple. Beyond this mature, inner experience of Jesus' peace, the monastic apostolic lifestyle also provides an external expression and atmosphere of peace, without the disruption and distraction of the active lifestyle. This distinction between inner quaiity of heart and external expression is very helpful in describing both the overlapping and the distinctiveness of these two apostolic lifestyles. I will make use of it later in describing the active style of being apostolic. 5. The apostolate of formal prayer is most typical of monastic spirituafity. The formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist and of individual contemplation is the chief and primary apostolate or ministry of the monastic heart. No other secondary ministry should be practiced except insofar as it relates to and does not interfere with the monastic life of con-templation alone with God. To blur or confuse this ministerial primacy of formal prayer could, once again, trivialize the monastic experience of God. The monastic heart always senses a salvific radiation emanating from its contemplative adventure alone in God. 6. Importance of physical presence in the formation of monastic community. Christian community is usually easier to define than to live. Wherever 660 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 it occurs, it is a union of minds and hearts primarily focused by a shared faith vision. Though many other elements, like similar age, training and interests, may facilitate union of minds and hearts, nothing is more important than a genuinely corporate faith vision regularly experienced and appropri-ately expressed. In the monastic style of Christian community, physical pres-ence, often in silence, plays a very important role in developing and maintaining the unity deriving from a corporate faith vision. A physical togetherness in prayer, reading, eating, sleeping and recreating are further aspects of the monastic dynamic at work in human hearts--and they are not unimportant ones in the living of monastic community. The Active Apostolic Dynamic Contrasted with the monastic, the active apostolic lifestyle is rooted in a different dynamic in the heart, and it also takes a different expression. This difference becomes obvious in the first of the six aspects that I will now describe. 1. Ministry is the primary determining influence. Vatican II, when describing this active dynamic in terms of religious life, speaks of communities in which "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services.''4 When this active charism is given either to a whole community or to an individual believer, it is ministerial involvement, rather than formal prayer, that determines the contours and the schedule of daily life. This is an important but very subtle point, which requires further eluci-dation, lest it be seriously misunderstood. To give primacy of influence to ministry is not meant to deny the absolute importance of quiet contemplation for the active apostle. Henri Nouwen states clearly the importance of formal prayer for ministry when he says: "If the minister wants to minister 'In the Name' he must live in the Name and speak and act from there.''5 Without mature prayer, mature ministry just is not possible. To deepen their regular contemplative experience is a great challenge today for active apostles, so busy and fatigued with responding to our modern world's needs. Let me be firm and clear in asserting this radical importance of formal prayer for the busy minister. The point to be stressed here, while not denying the importance of regular prayer, concerns the influence that ministry has on the whole makeup of the active life. The legitimate demands of ministry form the schedule of the day. When people enter a new ministry, with the intention of maintaining a past set time for private prayer which now will clearly interfere with availability for the new ministry, this violates the dynamic of the active apostolic charism. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 661 To have a schedule of formal prayer already in place before entering into the new ministerial situation is backwards for active apostles. Rather, they must first insert themselves into the new ministry and get an honest sense of its reasonable demands. Only then can their conviction about regular contemplation determine the specifics of when, where and how long they should pray each day. That there be regular contemplation is beyond doubt, regardless of ministry. But the determination of the specifics of regular contemplation depends upon the demands of the new ministry. For the active apostle, ministry, then, while not a substitute for regular contemplation, is the primary determining influence in this whole way of life. 2. Flexibility for change is central. Because busy ministry and service of others is essential to active spiritu-ality, a regular routine scheduled around formal prayer is not possible. A flexibility of heart and spirit is called for, in order to respond to the challenges and needs of a world so often in great upheaval and unrest. The earlier distinction between a profound reality of the heart and its external expression is important here again. Flexibility of heart is not some-thing that only active apostles know. A profound inner flexibility of spirit makes possible genuine docility to the spontaneity of the Holy Spirit--and is always a sign of spiritual maturity, both for monastic and for active people. Responsible involvement in complicated and unsettled situations, something not usual in monastic life, calls forth in the active apostle a distinctive external expression and practice of this mature flexibility of heart. The struggle and anguish involved in much of our response to Vatican II reveals how hard it is to change a routine and how prone many of us are to find our security in a rather rigid routine rather than in a faithfully loving God. As indicated above I believe that a routine is not only healthy, but necessary for living out the monastic charism. But, while a certain routine is necessary for all human life, the active apostle must always resist the escape into an overly monastic routine and must learn to trust the gift of flexibility that is always part of the active apostolic dynamic in the Church. 3. Ability discerningly to find, be with and serve God in all activity. Someone in a busy, active life can become very scattered and distracted. One's attention almost constantly flits from one thing to another. One's energy and concern are poured out in one situation after another. Drained and running, one loses a sense of focus, of unity and maybe even of funda-mental meaning. As life gets more and more hectic and chaotic, burnout of body and spirit sets in. Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Moments of special religious experience in formal prayer cannot, all by themselves, stem the tide of this heightening discouragement and tension. More than regular formal prayer is needed. Despite a great desire for unity and integration, human consciousness is capable, often without being aware of it, of various compartmentalizations. One of these is the split between formal prayer and the activity of life. In such a split, the surge of religious experience in private prayer ebbs in the face of all the busy activity of the rest of the day. The frantic, frenetic business of the day often calls forth and reveals in the apostle little sense of God. Private prayer is stubbornly main-tained in an attempt to keep religious experience alive. But such an ebb and flow of religious experience actually saps the apostle's energy and finally fails in accomplishing the desired integration in which all the activity of a day contributes to, rather than interferes with, a person's unifying religious experience. The proper balance of regular prayer and discerning involvement in the business of everyday can simplify and purify the focus and commitment of a heart so that the compartmentalized split of human experience into sacred and secular is gradually healed in a unity whereby all human experience bbc0mes religious--and finds God. In my own opinion, this is the greatest challenge still facing active apostolic spirituality. Often, past religious for-mation produced a compartmentalized relationship between prayer and activ-ity. Religious formation, in many ways, is still struggling to help active apostles find the proper interior integration that facilitates, and actually makes possible, the religious experience of finding, being with and serving God in all activity. Active apostles need a reflective sensitivity, in order to recognize the subtle but real difference between a selfish manipulation of others that finds self and a generously humble service of others that finds God. Only a genuine experience of the intimacy of God's love as beyond all other love and inviting a radical abandonment of self in love to God, together with a rigorously careful discernment of inner affective experiences, can make possible a human, loving presence that finds God in all activity and dealings with others. Vatican 11 makes a similar claim when it says that, for com-munities in religious life whose very nature requires apostolic action and services, "their entire apostolic activity should be animated by a religious spirit.''~ 4. Mobility and apostolic availability are key in active spirituality. Because mission and active ministry are so central to the active apostolic dynamic, mobility of body and spirit are important. Any rigidity in a person can interfere with the fruitfulness of this charism. In an active religious corn- Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 663 munity, the members come together precisely in order to be sent out on specific ministries, each of which shares in God's mission of salvation in Jesus. Any stubborn selfishness or immature insecurity will always corrode that mobility for mission which should characterize active spirituality. Apostolic availability is a readiness of spirit born of a freedom radically fascinated with a loving God's faithful commitment to us. Because of the inevitable limitation of human weakness and sinfulness, this freedom never perdures perfectly in a human heart. It must be won and received again and again. But the more this precious freedom grows in a human heart or in a whole congregation the more an availability of spirit allows the person or congregation to be thoroughly committed to a present ministry, but always with a readiness for wherever God's love may lead in the future. 5. The prayer of the apostolate is most typical of active spirituafity. The phrase that typifies monastic spirituality is reversed here. Granting, once again, the absolute value of regular contemplation in any serious spiritual life, the typical and more important prayer of the active apostle is a distinctively prayerful presence in and through all activity. This is related to. the third element above, i.e. the need to find, be with and serve God in all activity. The prayer of the apostolate should not be misunderstood as that claim and practice that many of us struggled with through the 1960s and 1970s: "my work is my prayer." Most of us now know the heresy.of such a claim, even though active apostles who would not want to profess an identification of work and prayer can still easily be pressured into living such a heresy. We have learned again over recent years that for no one does work become prayer, unless that person regularly stops working--and prays. So the prayer of the apostolate does not mean any simpliste identification of work and prayer. Rather the prayer of the apostolate involves two mutual and integral movements. The first is an appropriate, regular involvement in contempla-tion, which gradually spills over and renders pi'ayerful everything the person does, says and is. The second is an involvement in activity which stirs a desire for, and sometimes provides the subject matter of, formal contemplation in private. As one grows faithful and sensitive to these two movements, a pres-ence in all activity develops which is prayerful--a presence which is the Spirit of God praying and which reveals those clear signs of the Spirit mentioned in chapter five of Galatians. ¯ 6. A unity of mind and heart extending far beyond physical presence. Whereas the corporate faith vision of those sharing the monastic charism 664 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 requires much physical presence with one another, the active apostolic dynamic, because its very nature requires apostolic action and services, does not depend as much on the physical presence of the members to each other. It can foster a union of minds and hearts among members missioned all over the world in various ministries. Obviously, this corporate bond is not auto-matic. It is not the effect of any one person's fiat. It cannot be something superficially external. Rather, a unity rooted deeply in the hearts of all mem-bers will always require a profound attitude of heart on the part of each member, a distinctive type of missioning process and the careful practice of certain human, symbolic means. To say that the active charism depends less on the physical presence of the members than the monastic does certainly does not mean that physical presence can be simply disregarded in active communities. It is inhuman to imagine that members of a local live-in community, whatever the size, can develop a union of minds and hearts if they never gather together in quality physical presence. However, without disregarding the need for some such physical presence, we must not conceive the communitarian dimension Of the active charism according to monastic norms. Many active congregations today continue to struggle in local communities with how much physical presence of all members and what quality of presence of each is needed if there is to be a genuine, faith union of minds and hearts. If this struggle is not better resolved soon, increasing numbers of active religious, caught in the tension between involvement in an exciting ministry and the boring frustration of no shared vision in the local community, may well find celibacy too heavy a burden to bear alone. The De-monasticizing of Active Religious Life As religious have seriously responded to Vatican II's invitation to return to "the original inspiration" behind their own institute, a greater realization of the clear distinction between the differing and graced dynamics of the monastic and active has grown among us. In the wake of this growing clarity there also comes the realization that in the past we have not always respected this distinction with enough care. A major part of the renewal of religious life, therefore, has involved the de-monasticizing of institutes which were, in their founding, and which should, with greater fidelity over the years have continued to be, actively apostolic rather than monastic. This de-monasticizing process has not been easy. Mistakes have occurred. At times, inevitably, overreaction has set in. And many individuals have experienced great personal anguish in the midst of the confusion and turmoil of critiquing and of chang-ing, through experiment, revered and long-standing practices. But this process, although most painful, was unavoidable. To avoid it Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 665 would have been as serious a refusal as to violate the reverent d~cility due the Spirit of God who invites us to be faithful to the genuine, graced identity of our religious institute. In the past twenty years much headway has been made in realigning the fundamental conception, formation programs, ministerial practices and daily living of communities according to their rediscovered, original identity. Though the process is surely not finished, we are presently involved, appropriately enough, in a period of careful assessment of the fruits of this renewal process.7 A successful evaluation can help us to sift the precious wheat of fidelity to the essentials of religious life, as incarnated in appropriate contemporary expressions of the original founding charism, from the deceptive (though often attractive!) weeds of contemporary develop-ments that either destroy a necessary continuity of identity or shortsightedly try to defend older forms, which are now, and ought to be, simply dead. Vatican II reminds us of the importance of fidelity to the unique charism and identity of each religious community. "It serves the best interests of the Church for communities to have their own special character and purpose."s In line with this directive Thomas Merton cautions us against confusing the monastic and active dynamic: "The monastic life must not be evaluated in terms of active religious life, and the monastic orders should not be equated with other religious institutes, clerical or otherwise. The monastic community does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.''9 In conclusion, let me point to three results of respecting the clear dis-tinction between the active and monastic dynamic. First, we must be careful how we make use of the Liturgy of the Hours. In the monastic community the Liturgy of the Hours is a primary determinant and focus of the whole day, at which the physical presence of all is expected. In the active commu-nity, a regular communal prayer besides th.e Eucharist seems necessary. Some use of the Liturgy of the Hours may serve as an appropriate regular com-munity prayer. On the other hand, some other type of communal prayer may better serve a particular community. If something o.f the Liturgy of the Hours is used, it should not become a primary determinant and focus of schedule, to the detriment of the members' ministerial involvement. So, depending on the size and variety of the local community, the physical presence of all members is neither expected nor possible. However, the active community would be deficient in its unified faith vision if each member did not share the same desire to pray together regularly--which desire would always take expression in physical presence, except for ministerial reasons. But for an active community to use the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastic fashion would be to violate its God-given charism. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Second, members of active communities cannot avoid a natural monas-ticizing tendency as they get older. As the biological breakdown of old age sets in, religious become less and less active, they settle into a much more regularized pattern, and the apostolate of prayer becomes more predominant in their daily lives. If we are careful of certain presuppositions, this natural monasticizing tendency will not necessarily violate the active apostolic nature of a community. But the older members, whose lifestyle is now understand-ably more monastic, must not claim that this monastic lifestyle is the genuine identity of the whole congregation. Another subtle change of attitude could be entailed here. If a section of the motherhouse is located where many of the older, retired sisters are living, then naturally the style and schedule of life for that part of the house will be more monastic--as it should be. However, we must then be careful .that this more monastic schedule and style not be idolized as typical for all other houses of the congregation, an image that motherhouses often in the past have projected. Such a misunderstanding would be a serious interference with the unity and ministerial effectiveness of the whole congregation. In fact, it can be downright demoralizing and dis-torting for younger members. Furthermore, though these older members are much more inactive than earlier in their lives, they must be helped to keep the active zeal and concerns of their hearts alive and peacefully integrated with their bodily inactivity. These older members must also have a live sense of the ministry of old age and retirement. They must be helped to realize how valuable and necessary for the whole congregation's ministerial effectiveness is their own ministry of prayer and sacrifice. So often older religious think they have retired from ministry. I cannot stress enough the need for the elderly, and for everyone, to realize that while the aged and the sick must humbly retire from active involvement they never retire from ministry. The final and most important ministry is dying. If these concerns are not forgotten, then the natural monasticizing tendency of old age 'will not interfere with the active, apostolic nature of a religious community. Third, in the long history of women's religious congregations, for various historical reasons which are beyond my simple point here, the Church has had great difficulty in recognizing the active charism at work in the hearts of various foundresses. Angela Merici, Mary Ward, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Louise de Marillac and their followers are but a very few examples of the suffering this confusion has caused. In some ways the Church still continues to struggle today with this issue of more fully acknowledging and facilitating the active charism within communities of women religious. It is very clear that the Church's welcoming approval of valid contemporary forms of active spirituality among women religious--and without imposing any additional, Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 667 illegitimate, monastic expectations-- will enormously enrich God's mission of justice and love in our world. This article has described two different charisms, two different apostolic lifestyles, the active and the monastic. The Spirit of God has created and kept these two charisms alive in the Church. In a recent talk to the American bishops Michael Buckley, S.J., summarized the treatment of charism in the document "Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church": "Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they build the Church.''~° Three things, then: a gift of the Spirit, intimacy with Jesus, for the sake of the Church. As we come to appreciate further the active and monastic lifestyles in the Church, it is the hope of this writer that we will not confuse or corrupt these different charisms, but cooperate with what God intends, through them, for the unity of the Church, the holiness of its members and the service of a faith-filled justice in our world. Paul's words to the Corinthians both confirm and stimulate our hope: There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of differ-ent ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose (1 Co 12:4-7). NOTES ~They Speak By Silence, a Carthusian (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Inc.), p.3. 2One Pace Beyond--The Life of Nano Nagle, M. Raphael Consedine, P.B.V.M., (Moorabbin, Victoria: L.R. McKinnon & Co., 1977), p. 7. 3As a result of their study of the document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," Franciscans are investigating and proposing the evangelical life as the best description of their charism. It remains to be seen whether this evangelical life is a third type of spirituality different from what I am calling the monastic and the active, whether it is its own unique blend of the active and monastic, or whether it is a particular version of an active spirituality. 668 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 4Vatican 11, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #8. 5Soul Friend, Kenneth Leech, (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1977), p. viii. 6Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," #8. 7See my two articles "Assessing and Choosing Even as the Journey Continues," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March/April 1984, and "Come Let Us Talk This Over: Issues in Spirituality, 1985," Part 1, 'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July/August 1985, and Part II, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/October 1985. 8Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #2. 9The Monastic Journey, T. Merton, (New York: Image, 1978), p. 213. ~°See "The Charism and Identity of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/ October 1985, p. 661. 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 Canonical Considerations of Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister McDonough is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Canon Law at The Catholic University of America (Washington, DC 20064). This article is based on a presen-tation she made to the LCWR convention in New Orleans last September. In the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people suspect canon law has never been freed--canonical discipline was known as "practical theo-logy." That is, it was not a separate science as it is today, with specialized formulators, practitioners, codifiers and interpreters. What people did on a regular basis became operative norms of action. By authoritative interven-tion or by custom these operative norms of action eventually became recog-nized as laws in the technical sense of the Aristotelian/Thomistic construct, that is: An ordinance of reason formulated and promulgated by one charged with care of the common good. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and each person's freedom of choice were paramount. Also in the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people like-wise suspect religious life has never been freed--the ancient monastic and recently discovered mendicant ideas of religious life held sway. By that time the former was already highly clericalized, feudally land-based, rather well-off, and subject to frequent reforms. The latter was a new notion capitalizing on mobility, the development of towns, the discovery of trade, the rise of universities, and renewed lay piety. It, too, soon became rather clericalized; comfortably land-based, economically well-off, and in need of frequent reforms. 669 670 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Nearly three centuries later at the time of Trentmfrom the grips of which most people are quite certain canon law and religious life have not been freed--canonical science was heavily influenced by nominalism, voluntarism, legalism and emerging casuistry. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and one's freedom of choice were no longer paramount. The then recognized forms of religious life were suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dis-pensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, all of society was in flux: notions of political power, emerging nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of exploration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures all experienced incredible upheavals and alterations. And in the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, the desperately needed "new idea" of apostolic religious life was conceived by Angela Merici, Ignatius Loyola, Mary Ward, Louise de Marillac and Jane de Chantal. These charismatic individuals were fol-lowed in a few centuries by Catherine McAuley and many others. Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on the part of the ecclesiastical establishment that perpetuated the ancient, cloistered, monastic model in theological reasoning and canonical practice for women religious. But reli-gious life itself simply continued to develop. Eighty percent of the religious groups ever founded became established between Trent and the twentieth century, and non-cloistered, non-solemnly vowed, apostolic religious life for women was finally universally recognized, but not until 1900. Canon law-- retaining some remnant of its medieval ',practical theology" identity--could not ignore the reality of the "new idea" in religious life forever, although recognition came rather slowly by our standards. Relating to the Present But what precisely is the connection of all this with the topic at hand, namely "Canonical Considerations of Self-Determination, Just Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure"? The connection is this: At the moment recog-nized forms of religious life are suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dispensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, at the present time all of society is in flux: notions of political power, emerg-ing nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of explo- Canonical Considerations / (171 ration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures are all experiencing incredible upheavals and alterations. We are clearly in a post-conciliar era incredibly comparable to the late Middle Ages and to post-Tridentine times. In the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, religious life is again in need--perhaps desperately in need--of yet another "new idea." But those of us who are currently members of established communities, more than likely, are not the bearers of this desperately "new idea." At best we are perhaps--or certainly have the opportunity to be--artisans of a transition. And with proper understand-ing and use, this writer contends that canon law can be a great aid in this transition. Fostering a Transition To illustrate the transitional role of contemporary religious institutes, let us for a moment take the medieval methodological approach of canon law as "practical theology" and look at what current "theology in practice" in the 1983 code suggests about this life we call "religious." To begin, the new law talks about life: an identifiable form of life, a substantive form of life, a stable form of life. It speaks of a life clearly understood and freely chosen: a life of following Christ, a life of total dedication to God. It con-siders this life a particular state in the Church undertaken by profession of the evangelical counsels and lived in accord with the supreme law of the Gospel as expressed in the proper law of one's institute. It is a life involving some fixed organizational structures, certain obligations and rights, various spiritual exercises, some restrictions on personal and apostolic activities, numerous clear procedures for admission and departure, and a public con-nection to the local and universal Church. From the point of view of "practical theology" the new code requires proper law specification in seventy-four out of the one hundred fifty-three canons that apply to religious institutes. In other words, in nearly half of the canons concerning religious, the institute itself must or may determine specific elements of the life of its members, both individually and collectively. Thus, widespread distinctions in practice are not excluded by the universal law requirements for common life, identifiable superiors, necessary forma-tion, apostolic limitations, departure procedures, and the like. The prin-ciple of subsidiarity is canonically incorporated in the new code, and opportunities for practical variations are amply provided. How well or to what extent these are utilized depends entirely on one's proper law. Proper-law revision, or the writing of constitutions, as experienced during the last two decades in the life of religious institutes has been no easy task, however. In some instances the process was carried out in an ambience of 672 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 internal polarization that fomented contentions among members as each retreated to his or her corner courageously defending the truth for the sake of God. In other instances the formulation of an institute's truly representa-tive legislation was complicated by a certain lack of contemporaneity in institutional and hierarchical Church structures themselves. Nevertheless, these difficulties do not negate the fact that it is precisely the revision of proper-law wherein lies the opportunity for institutes to incorporate new ideas and new experiences of religious life. Good proper-law revision allows them to accomplish this without having to shoulder the burden of being the initiators or receivers of the desperately needed "new idea" mentioned above. Moreover, incorporating new ideas and experiences in proper-law to the greatest extent possible now, can help pave the way for later canonical acceptance of other, newer ideas and experiences, however long that may take. Institutionalizing Charisms Backtracking momentarily before going on, let us note that the phrase "new idea" is entirely inadequate. Ideas have consequences, but they are not the only realities that have consequences. And religious life is never primarily or merely an idea, an intellectual endeavor. It is a gift of the Spirit to, in, and through the Church. Charisms are like seeds planted in particularly fertile soil in a specific historical context. They are shaped and reshaped by the exigencies of history, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the passage of time. They are nourished and grow and evolve in the context of everyday life with everyday people--interspersed here and there by those we happily refer to as "saints" (while being equally happy we never had to live with them). Charisms are never captured in constitutions or any collection of fundamental and secondary documents. Charisms live in people or they do not live at all. Legal norms, on the other hand, are externally formulated and externally measurable. They can never totally express internal motivation. Thus, the basic import of any constitutions and any collection of fundamental and secondary documents is not merely their juridical perspective and canoni-cal determination. The legal heritage of an institute, capturing as best it can the articulated charism, is always conditioned by the emerging values of real life as experienced by those inspired to embrace the charism. People are, you see, an undeniably important element of the canonical system. On another level, the institutional Church, which in some form or another has been with us for nearly two millennia, must itself occasionally reach out and embrace a genuinely new charism. In such instances the ecclesial structure must fracture its preset boundaries, redefine its established cate-gories, and reorient its institutional life in order to incorporate, that is, take Canonical Considerations / 673 into its structures, a new breath of the Spirit. This reaching out and embracing a charism has probably happened only three times in Church history: for Benedictine monasticism, medieval mendicancy, and post-reformation apostolic orders. In each instance, institutional embracing of the new charism occurred quite slowly, required numerous adjustments and experienced set-backs over the years. The time may very well be ripe for another institutional embracing of truly new charisms of consecrated life in the Church. If so, this too will occur slowly, require adjustments, and experience setbacks. And, if history can offer us any objective insights regarding the process and its effects, one might be cautioned to note that once the institutional Church reaches out and embraces a genuinely new charism, the rest of the story is that of the charism's institutionalization. It is simply a matter of time and human nature: initial ideals are eventually dimmed or forgotten; initial fervor is slowly chilled or lost; initial Gospel goals are gradually subordinated to preservation of the new institution. Suffice it to say that the readers of this article are, more likely than not, part of already established, already institutionalized charisms and, as such, are not the first wave of any new movement in religious life. Limiting Self-Determination and Autonomy The parameters of ecclesial embrace and the exigencies of historical evolu-tion are the primary limiting factors in the "self-determination"aspect of any religious founder or foundress, of any religious institute. Self-determina-tion is never absolute. It has always been far from so for religious life, and still is. But this is also the case, for example, regarding members of the Christian faithful in general. In the new code all Christians are entitled to form associations (c. 215). All Christians should lead holy lives and promote the building up of the Church (c. 210). All Christians have the right and duty to work towards announcing the Gospel of :salvation (c. 211) and to undertake apostolic activi-ties (c. 216). But no Christians are obliged in any way to seek official recog-nition for these :activities in 'any canonical form unless they choose to do them in the name of the Church '(c.301,). And no Christian is obliged in any way to choose any form of consecrated life (c. 573 §2). Yet the self-determination of any Christian (which is never absolute to begin with) is quite circumscribed and channeled--limited, if you will--by either of the above choices once made. As individuals we cannot be both teachers and nurses at the same time. As communities we cannot be both monastic and apostolic at the same time. As institutes we cannot be both Ursuline and Franciscan at the same time. Thus, in an era that prefers to deal with "both/and," we are sometimes faced with an inevitable "either/or" because 674 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 no self-determination is absolute. Similarly the "just autonomy" of any institute is always and only to be considered within the context of ecclesial embrace and historical evolu-tion. Philosophically speaking, autonomy refers to freedom from external control and censure. It guarantees room for action and reflection without disruption, but it includes necessary coordination in reference to the whole. Nevertheless, any auto nomos, from the Greek to be self-normed, is funda-mentally limited by creation and redemption: by our realistic situation of being creatures in an ambience of and affected by evil. As individuals we have from the start only limited independence that remains always relative: so, too, with religious institutes in the Church. Appreciating the Role of Obligation Here it may be important to digress somewhat to consider the bias that supports the current canonical system. It is a philosophical/theological con-struct characterized by valuing status, common good and obligation. This is so in contrast to more recent philosophical/theological constructs character-ized by valuing human dignity, individual advantage and personal rights. Neither need be mutually exclusive of, or in direct contradiction to, the other. But both have often appeared so. Even with the advances of the last few centuries and the affirmations of recent popes and the articulations of Vatican Council II, the former con-struct is the one that clearly underlies the new law. In the new code, the communal context of "status" constantly qualifies any affirmations of equality in dignity. In it, the common good--perceived as a set of conditions enabling the attainment of reasonable objectives for the sake of which individuals have decided to collaborate--is clearly prior to independent, indi-vidual advantage. In it, rights are subordinate to and conditioned upon duties intrinsic to the Gospel and to our social nature. In it, the protection of rights is for the sake of fuller participation in one's evangelical and social obliga-tions. And in it, patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images still predominate. But what of the alternative constructs? What of, for example, the philosophical and theological mind-set that emerges from the social contract and human rights theories of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau? These are to a great extent the basis of our constitutional republic and the foundation of American civil law and jurisprudence. Prescinding from their equally patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images, note that social-contract and human-rights theories appear to posit the pristine existence of free, independent but highly vulnerable individuals willing to ransom a portion of personal autonomy for collective security. Rights are the "playing Canonical Considerations / 675 cards" or the "poker chips" of the barter: some cannot be relinquished (these are termed "inalienable"); others can be relinquished but can also be recalled (in breach of contract). It may appear, at times, that the institu-tional Church would be much better off with a healthy dose of American civil liberties incorporated into its legal system: with a civil rights basis; with non-hierarchical checks and balances; with protection by administrative pro-cedures; with guarantees of prior notification, due process, provision for counsel, and the like. And, for the most part, this is probably not only an accurate observation but also a viable possibility and partial reality. Witness, for instance, the numerous appeals boards and administrative tribunals that already exist in many religious institutes and dioceses to complement the heavily hierarchical Church system. Indeed, it is clear that these two systems are not, and need not be considered, contradictory or mutually exclusive. Nevertheless, there is a significant difference between the Medieval and Enlightenment mind-sets, and the difference is crucial for ecclesiastical law and especially for religious institutes. Social-contract and human-rights con-structs, while very affirming of life and dignity in theory, are singularly inept at guaranteeing life and dignity to the individual from the community in practice. This is because one finds in them no legal locus of obligation. They are based, if you will, on the implicit myth that somewhere there exists a Utopian world of perfectly free humans who have no alienated or usurped rights and who experience no unresolved conflicts, individually or collectively. Reality is not quite so Utopian. So, for example, in the American social-contract/ human-rights systems, suppose you are .walking over a bridge beneath which there is someone in the water drowning. Note that, even though the drowning person has affirmed rights to life, education, suitable housing, equal-opportunity employment, a just wage, and more, there is absolutely no civil-law focus of obligation for anyone to come to his or her aid. This is not to say there is no moral obligati?n to come tothe person's aid, but there is no legal one. In fact, the legal system--because of numerous possibilities for litigation--at times seems even to militate against fulfillment of one's moral obligations in such situations. And note that we are not discussing here the medical/moral/legal subtleties of prenatal life or of the terminally ill. We simply have a recognizably fully alive human being with numerous affirmed rights who ends up quite dead because of lack of legal obligation in the system itself. In sharp contrast, the Aristotelian/Thomistic system of law, and even further back the Judaic/Talmudic system of law, are based primarily on obligations: common, mutual, reciprocal obligations that arise from a cor-porate experience. The Hebrew, the Christian, the religious is chosen-- passive voice--be it at Sinai, through the Last Supper, or by a call to conse- 676 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 crated life. We are chosen. This is not to suggest that we, therefore, have no responsibilities; but rather, to highlight the fact that the initiative is God's. Only the response is ours. Thus it is the beginning of our system's notion of legal obligation that becomes the crucial difference in the end.~ We do not begin by bartering away any pristine "rights." We receive a gift, with consequences. The legal constructs of our lives relate to divine events in and through which everything necessary for the eternal salvation of everyone for all ages has somehow already been given, in some sense even commanded. They are the same divine events in and through which we have freely assumed personal perpetual obligations. And they provide for an amazing absence of Utopian myths. For there is in salvation history ample evidence of human failure, outright betrayal, personal and collective infidelity, repeated digressions, and an uncanny unwillingness to live up to our part of the bargain. In contrast, on the part of God, there is ample evidence of long-suffering patience, relentless forgiveness and unswerving fidelity to the promise of mercy. Moreover, if we do not read the Gospel too selectively, even after having done everything expected, you and I have no basic right or even a distant claim to any reward whatsoever, although we are assured in the end of attaining the greatest possible goal. Situating Obligation in Hierarchical Structures The importance of proper law--the law that obtains for one's own insti-tute- has already been mentioned in regard to fostering the current transition in the paradigms of religious life. Proper law is also crucial to any element of self-determination and just autonomy within the Church's hierarchical structure. And the central element of ecclesiastical proper law, as well as ecclesiastical universal law, is the locus of incumbent obligation. This is what gives our laws content and objectivity for assuring the protection of values and the exercise of rights, even if these values and rights are not directly named as such. In fact, whether or not the values and rights are actually named in the law is of minimal importance. Perhaps at this point an example is in order. There is an ancient principle of Roman Law which states: Where there is a right, there is a remedy (Ubi ius, ibi remedium). It is in the logical contrapositive that we more readily recognize the truth of the principle, namely: If there is no remedy to be found for violation of an affirmed right, there is really no right at all. With this in mind, let us proceed to the example. It is an example not taken from ttie~ law for religious so that the content will not distract from the point intend~dl. Chnon 22'1! §'2',of~ the 1983 code states: If the Christian faithful are sum- Canonical Considerations / 677 moned to judgment by c6mpetent authority, they have the right to be judged in accord with the prescriptions of law applied with equity. It sounds wonder-ful. But what is there to guarantee that this will, indeed, be the case? The answer: incumbent obligations and opportunities to insist on their fulfill-ment as provided in the canons on judicial procedures. °The affirmed right of c. 221 §2 can be vindicated because all tribunal personnel must take an oath that they will fulfill their functions properly and faithfully (c. 1454). All tribunal personnel must disqualify themselves from involvement in cases concerning: (1) persons with whom they have a first-cousin or closer relationship, (2) persons for whom they are guardians or trustees~ (3) persons with whom they have a close friendship or for whom they feel a great animosity, as well as (4) those instances in which they desire to make a profit or avoid some loss (c. 1448). And if the tribunal personnel do not disqualify themselves, the parties in the case can lodge an objection (c. 1229) to which the court must attend before the trial can continue (c. 1451). All tribunal personnel are forbidden to accept any gifts whatsoever for the performance of their duties (c. 1456). And any tribunal personnel are subject to penalties, including loss of office, if they refuse to deal with a case for which they are competent, or attempt to deal with a case for which they are not competent, or violate the law of secrecy, or inflict damage on the parties out of malice or serious negligence (c. 1457). In other words, these procedural canons--specifying as they do the legal locus of obligations and providing the opportunity to insist that the obliga-tions be fulfilled--are really what give canonical force to c. 221 §2. But the point is this: These canons, albeit with different numbers, were also in the former code. The affirmation of current c. 221 §2 was not. How much this newly affirmed "right" would mean without these related obligations is questionable, for indeed: If there is no remedy, there is really no right. And how much this newly incorporated right actually adds to the related, already long-standing procedures still remains to be seen. All the foregoing in norway intends to ignore the fact that. even in the best of legal systems incumbent obligations can upon occasion be observed primarily in the breach. The intention is, rather, to provide a clear under-standing of the importance of obligations in the Church's legal system in order to investigate more meaningfully the numerous obligations contained in the canons concerning religious institutes. Religious Institutes and Obligations To begin our discussion, as well as to illustrate the complexity of the: interrelationships among canons, let us consider thosecanons contaii~ed under the title "Obligations and Rights of Institutes and of their Members,." cc. 678 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 662-672. As often as one might comb the (official Latin) text of the canons, there is not one strict right (ius) to be found. But at this point in the presenta-tion, such a discovery should be no great surprise: It is the locus of incumbent obligation, not the affirmation of rights, that is the substantive base for our legal system. Moreover, listed in these canons there are numerous obliga-tions from which it is clear that what other legal systems call "rights" will be respected even though not mentioned by name. To pursue the practical content of obligations/rights in the code as related to self-determination, just autonomy and hierarchical structure, we will isolate one of the canons in this section and investigate its canonical consequences. Perhaps the most important obligation listed in this set of canons is that of c~ 670: Each institute must (debet) supply for its members all those things necessary for attaining the end of their vocation. The debet is canonically preceptive language. The subject, object, and matter of the obligation are, respectively, the institute, its members, and necessities. Proper law should certainly address itself to the objective meaning of "necessities," and the meaning should have some reference to what is justly judged so in an equit-able manner by competent authority within the norms, structures, and resources of a particular institute. There is some problem, to be sure, with relating mandated necessities to the end of one's vocation when that end ultimately transcends temporal realities and, thus, is effectively precluded from the possibility of practical evaluation. But consequences of the mandate in c. 670 are extensive and have already been addressed by canonists.2 At the very least, this obligation on the part of institutes is interpreted as requiring those in positions, of government to provide for, and as giving members a corresponding right to: (1) sound, complete, approved proper law, (2) structural provision for general chapters, superiors and councils, (3) systematic formation, (4) stable community life, (5) suitable options for apostolic action or internal work in accord with the institute's mission, and (6) appropriate material goods and .opportunities for ongoing health care, formation, work and renewal. Note that none of the mutual obligations/rights in this list are meaningful except as connected to a coherent legal system that can guarantee their fulfill-ment. And recall that in Church law the locus of incumbent obligation is what provides objective content and procedural safeguards for affirmed or unaffirmed rights. It is the locus of incumbent obligation that is the basis for whatever down-ward or lateral accountability might exist in our hierarchical system, which Canonical Considerations / 679 operates primarily on the intrinsic principle of upward accountability. That is, in fulfilling well the obligations it has towards its members (i.e., its down-ward accountability), any institute is also more than likely fulfilling its obliga-tions towards the other elements of the hierarchical structure (i.e., its lateral and upward accountability). Simply put, an institute cares for downward accountability by attending to the legal obligations it has towards its members. It does this by providing for at least the six categories mentioned as flowing from the requirement of c. 670. But in so doing the institute is not only protecting the rights of individual members. It is also establishing itself on a sound operational basis for relating to equivalent juridic persons, such as other religious institutes, in lateral accountability. And it is likewise con-tributing to its own just autonomy in the upward accountability of the insti-tute to higher authorities in the hierarchical structure. Thus, all of the mutual obligations/rights that derive from c. 670 are directly or indirectly related to the question of an institute's existence and just autonomy. But the motive for action and the locus of accountability in c. 670-- fulfilling obligations toward members--shift the focus for the institute from that of accepting the collective imposition of alien restrictions to that of guaranteeing the possible pursuance of someone's response to having been chosen. It is possible to approach this accountability from an entirely different perspective, namely: from the recog-nition of just autonomy for religious institutes in c. 586. Indeed, the result of beginning with c. 586 might even be somewhat similar, as will be seen in the next section. Yet the basis for action in the former approach is probably more canonically sound. Religious Institutes and Just Autonomy Canon 586 states that it belongs to local ordinaries to preserve and protect (servare ac tueri) the autonomy of each institute. In the same canon "just autonomy of life, especially of government" is recognized by universal law. The canon goes on to describe this "just autonomy" as that by which insti-tutes enjoy (gaudeant) their own discipline and have the power to pre~serve (servare valeant) their patrimony3 intact. The patrimony of an institute of consecrated life is described in c. 578 as the intention and purpose of the founders/foundresses, sanctioned by competent ecclesiastical authority, con-cerning the nature, end, spirit and character of the institute as well as its sound traditions. The canon adds that this patrimony is to be faithfully preserved (servanda est) by all. Elsewhere, in c. 631 § 1, the general chapter is given special responsibility both to protect (tueri) the institute's patrimony as described in c. 587 and to promote its appropriate renewal (accommodatam renovationem). Still elsewhere in c. 587 §1, institutes must (debent) incor-porate into their constitutions .whatever is established regarding their 680 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 patrimony in order to faithfully protect (ad. fide#us tuendam) the voca-tion and identity of their instutute. Another set of canons is also pertinent to the investigation at hand: cc. 675 §1, 611 #2, 677 §1, and 671. The first states that in apostolic institutes apostolic action is part of their very nature (ipsam eorundem naturam). The second states that a bishop's consent for canonical erection of a religious house includes the right (ius) to exercise the works proper to the institute according to the norm of law and within any restrictions contained in the consent. The third states that superiors and members of institutes should faithfully retain (fide#ter retineanO and prudently accommodate (prudenter accommodenO the mission and works of their institute. And the fourth states that members may not undertake pgsitions outside of those proper to the institute,without the permission of legitimate superiors. Both the language and the interplay of all these canons are significant. The patrimony of any institute, or, if you will, the meaningful heritage or expres-sion of its charism, is somehow to be contained in its proper law. Note that this is the same sound, complete, approved proper law to which membe~-s have a right by reason of the obligation in c. 670. And this patrimony is to be preserved by all--an unqualified and inclusive all--according to c. 578. Con-stitutions (c. 587), general chapters (c. 631), and local ordinaries (c. 586) are each required (using some form of the same Latin verb, tueor) to protect the institute's patrimony. Chapters have the responsibility to renew it (c. 631), while superiors and members have the ability to retain and accommodate certain aspects of it (c. 677). Now for the sake of example, let us suppose that an institute has been founded whose nature is apostolic, whose purpose is to practice the corporal works of mercy, whose spirit is non-monastic, and whose character, because of its purpose, is for the most part one of commitment to individual rather than to collective apostolates. Let us also suppose that the instutute is of pontifical right, that it has three canonically erected houses in three dioceses, and that its members are present in seven other dioceses in which the institute has n6 canonically erected houses. Finally, let us suppose that a member of this institute, with appropriate permission from internal authorities and fulfilling the norms of universal and proper law, is exercising an apostolate which the diocesan bishop does not wish this person to exercise in the diocese entrusted to his care. The stage is set, is it not, for the play of tensions commonly experienced between just autonomy and hierarchical structure? Without being facetious, let me suggest further that the script for this act of the play commonly has the religious entering stage left, the bishop entering stage right, and all defini-tive action coming Deus ex machina from above. The entire performance Canonical Considerations / 681 is usually viewed only through the opera glasses of a communications media well known for its ability to distort the factual while filling lacunae with unfounded conjecture. When the curtain falls, there are inevitable winners and losers, but who belongs to which category most often depends on where you were seated--center orchestra, third balcony, backstage, or in the wings. And usually the real issues have neither been well addressed nor even partially solved, while genuine Christian values, not to mention Christian people, have more than likely been forgotten or neglected or badly battered during the performance. As a canonist, this writer holds there are viable alternatives to the above scenario. For, if law does nothing else for us in the Church, it ought to at least be able to function as the impartial arbiter in cases of conflict. How well it can do this for cases such as the above, however, depends on how clearly and thoroughly obligations are both delineated in proper law and fulfilled by those responsible for them. But, to return to the case and the question at hand: Can the bishop prohibit the religious from exercising the apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? If you view it from the per-spective of the religious--to use familiar phraseologywthe "bad news" is that he probably can, because ultimately all religious are subject to the power of the bishop in apostolic works (c. 678 §1). The "good news" is that such a prohibition would be very difficult in some circumstances. Needless to say, if you are looking at this case from the vantage point of the bishop, the content of the answer is exactly the same: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult. The law, you see, is rather objective and can be an impartial arbiter in such matters, even though the "goodness" or "badness", attributed to the content would probably be reversed (and logically so) in the judgment of the bishop. Why is it probably possible but possibly very difficult for the bishop to forbid the religious from exercising an apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? The answer, to be canonically sound, requires a careful investi-gation of the canons previously mentioned. If the institute is an apostolic one, then apostolic works are part of its nature by law (c. 675). The nature of an institute as sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority is part of its patri-mony to be preserved°by all (c. 578) and contained in its constitutions (c. 587). The power to preserve this patrimony is part of an institute's legally recognized just autonomy of life, and local ordinaries are to preserve and protect this autonomy (c. 586). Regarding just autonomy of life, on the one hand, it cannot be restricted merely to internal matters or only to government. If autonomy is restricted to internal matters, then the understanding of religious life under universal law would be a dichotomized, compartmentalized one. The code takes great 682 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 pains to indicate that this is clearly not the case, and especially for the apostolic activity of apostolic institutes (cc. 662, 673, 675). Furthermore, if autonomy is restricted to the institute's internal government, then the just autonomy "especially of government" recognized in c. 586 is a meaningless phrase even canonically. On the other hand, if any apostolate is fundamental to an institute and if any autonomy in regard to this apostolate is to be recognized, then the apostolate must be clearly articulated in the institute's constitutions. If it is clearly articulated in the constitutions, and if the institute has a canon-cially erected house in the diocese, then this includes a strict right (ius) to exercise proper-law apostolate(s) of the institute from this house (c. 611 #2). Note, however, that while the institute has this right, each and every member of the institute is not necessarily free to exercise the right. Canonists do agree that, in granting consent for a religious house, a diocesan bishop can restrict some of the institute's activities for all of the members or all of the institute's activities for some of the members. But they also agree that he cannot restrict all of the institute's activities for all of the members. If he judges this extreme restriction necessary, he simply ought not to grant consent for establishing the house. Thus, in response to the case, if: - there is a constitutionally established apostolate - exercised by a member of the institute -~with proper internal permissions ~ according to universal law (i.e., legally) -. from a canonically established house -to which no general or specific apostolic restrictions have been attached, it would be very difficult for the bishop to prevent the religious from continuing the apostolic activity. The prohibition would not be impossible, however, because it is provided by c. 679, that if: - the bishop judges there is a most grave cause - after having referred the matter to the major superior - and if the major superior does not take appropriate action - the bishop can prohibit the religious from remaining in the diocese. But this action constitutes a penalty (c. 1327 §1) which means that -the procedure for application of penalties is to be followed (cc. 1341-1353) - no steps may be dispensed with (c. 87) 7 all wording must be interpreted strictly (c. 18) - the constitutions of the institute may not be violated (c. 1327 §1) and - the bishop must immediately inform the Holy See of his action (c. 679). Canonical Considerations / 683 Whence, the answer given above must contain an important qualification: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult only if the initial legal obligations regarding apostolate, houses and constitutions have been fulfilled by the institute to which the member belongs. But such is not usually the case, is it? For the most part situations arise in which it is clear that one or many of the above legal obligations have not been fulfilled and, consequently, the rights involved are not well protected. It often happens that the institute has no canonically erected house in the diocese. Then there is simply no right for the institute or any of its member to exercise any apostolate there. If they do so, they do so at the good will of the bishop who can subsequently forbid what he has previously permitted. The written agreements between diocesan bishops and competent superiors, which are now required by c. 681 when entrusting works to religious, might possibly give the religious a cause for civil-law action in the case of a breach of contract, but this could only occur if the agreements were poorly composed canonically in the first place. One might add that adhering to the require-ment for these written agreements, which are supposed to include the type of work involved, could possibly identify potential conflicts such as the above case in their incipient stages. It also often happens that a particular activity exercised by a religious is not mentioned--or at least not referred to in a specific enough manner--to definitively include it in the constitutionally approved elements of the insi-tute's apostolate. The competent internal authority by making a practical interpretation in the course of good government may judge that this specific activity is included within the constitutionally approved elements of its aposto-late. But if this practical interpretation is challenged and recourse is had to the competent external authority, the interpretation of the authority who approved the constitutions in the first place is the one that prevails. Another common occurrence is practical accommodation of an institute's mission and apostolic works by the superiors and members in accord with c. 677. An institute may adapt its apostolate from educating orphans, for instance, to educating Blacks or Hispanics. Or, again, an institute may relin-quish nursing in hospitals in order to serve in home-nursing ministries. Some-times these accommodations are not subsequently or accurately incorporated into one's constitutions by a general chapter. But legal affirmation of such adjustments is both the obligation and prerogative of general chapters accord-ing to c. 631. If general chapters do not fulfill their obligations by providing an adequate update of an institute's proper law, the "good news" and "bad news" for the religious will be rendered as mentioned above. Three other forms of apostolic accommodation are also common and can be far more problematic, namely: 684 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 (1) defining the institute's mission and apostolate in so generic a manner that almost any apostolic activity can be included in them, (2) including in the institute's mission and apostolate some activities that appear to be only indirectly connected with its patrimony, and (3) including in the institute's mission and apostolate those activities which relate closely to those prohibited for religious in universal law. It would be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to attempt a treatment here of the specifics of each of these instances, but all three can certainly be recog-nized as occasions for another play of tensions between just autonomy and hierarchical structure. In the process of approval of constitutions, competent ecclesiastical authorities often perceive these instances as fostering generic vagueness or minute inclusiveness or institutional challenges: Their response is usually to request or to mandate adjustments in wording and/or content. This is often viewed by the institutes both as a violation of their just auto-nomy and as a negation of their renewal experiences. There is no doubt that the attitudes of those involved in the dialogues concerning constitutional revision are crucial to the results. In the first case just suggested, there can be--but need not be--a real danger of dissipating an institute's resources by too extensive a diversification within a generic category, such as education or health care or social justice. In the second, there can be, but need not be, a noble attempt to "legitimize" the activity of every member, however diversified, by incorporating it by name into the institute,s proper law. In the third, there can be, but need not be, a genuine and necessary prophetic challenge to the gradually institutionalized: restrictions on Gospel imperatives. Whether competent authorities and reli-gious institutes approach these and similar situations from a stance of polari-zation and confrontation or from a stance of pluralism and constructive compromise alters the "flashpoint" of the matter involved. A "flashpoint" is the degree of flammability of combustible materials. Most readers will probably be aware that there have been many tenuous "flashpoints" approached and passed by the interaction of hierarchy and religious--as well as among religious themselves--throughout history. Such opposition and conflict, indeed, utter conflagrations at times, have been regrettable and are certainly not to be excused.4 But in the interaction of religious charism and ecclesial institution they will always be potentially present. Suggestions are sometimes made that religious institutes experiencing great charism/hierarchical tensions might opt for what is referred to as "non-canonical" status. Legally speaking "non-canonical" is a misnomer as well as an almost impossible option. Religious institutes are by law public juridic persons (c. 634, 116 §2). Canonical Considerations / 685 This means they automatically have a "canonical status" which can also be described as legal standing or public authentication within the ecclesial structure. This status is understood to guarantee the soundness of the insti-tute's charism and traditions, to empower the duly elected officers of the institute forgoverning, and to confer a mandate on the institute (and its members) for apostolic activities. It is quite clear in Church law that only the appropriate ecclesiastical authorities--namely, Diocesan ]~ishops or the Apostolic See--can erect religious institutes (cc. 576, 578-579, 589), can approve and accept the charisms of founders and foundresses (c. 578), and can officially interpret and moderate the practice of the evangelical counsels (c. 576). Any public juridic person in the Church is by law a "perpetual" entity and can be legitimately extinguished only by competent authority (c. 120 §1). The Apostolic See alone is able to suppress an institute of consecrated life once it has been canonically erected (c. 584). On the occasion of such sup-pression, the disposition of the goods of the institute, which are by law "ecclesiastical goods" (c. 1257), belongs to the Apostolic See (c. 584) unless the approved statutes of the public juridic person (i.e., the institute's proper law) provide otherwise (c. 123). Thus, the material possessions of any religious institute, as well as the final decisions regarding what is to be done with them, do not belong ultimately to the institute or to its members but to the institutional Church. Moreover, religious institutes are "collegial" public juridic persons (c. 115 §2) andas such continue to exist (unless suppressed) as long as there is one surviving member, upon whom all the rights and obliga-tions of the institute devolve (c. 120 §2). For two major reasons, therefore, it is not legally realistic for a religious institute as such to become "non-canonical" in response to the tensions experienced in the interplay of the institute's charism and hierarchical struc-tures: (1) suppression of a religious institute is difficult to accomplish and (2) truly non-canonical status is almost impossible to find. First, an institute does not have the authority to suppress itself; and it is rare that all members of an institute might opt for requesting suppression by the Apostolic See. If such were the case., however, the juridic person could totally cease to exist. But if even a few chose to remain and were allowed to do so, these few would then enjoy all the rights and assume all the obligations of the still existing original religious institute. The ecclesiastical goods of the institute would also be subject to the care and control of the remaining members according to Church law? In other words, the mem-bers of any religious institute cannot simply decide to self-destruct the juridic person and head off into the sunset, each fortified with his or her own "piece 686 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 of the (institutional) rock." Second, even if an institute were sup

Issue 42.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1983. ; Revlt!w i:or RELIGIOUS {ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. Re\'lt~w vor REI.IGIOIJS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by REVIEW FOR REI,IGIOIJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years, Other countries: add $2.00 per year {postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:vtr:w ].on Rl.:l.l(;IOtlS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1983 Volume 42 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~-:vlt:w t-on Rt.:tA(;toOs; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to ,Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rt-:\'t~.:w t-'ou Rt.:l.~;tous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. °'Oul of print" issues and articles nol published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge John R. Quinn This is the address delivered by Archbishop Quinn (of San Francisco) at the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Religious Women in~ Baltimore on August 16, 1983. I~ast spring, Archbishop Quinn was named to head the pontifical commission established to facilitate the p~istoral contribution of bishops to religious life in the United States. ' ~" You have honored me by asking that i speak With you. For the Church recognizes in your lives as religious the continuation of the poverty, the chastity, and the obedience of Christ. What is more: in and through your lead.ership, thousands of your sisters are in this rbom with~us this morning, present through the care you have for the consistency and holiness of their unique form of Christian living, and present because of their choice that you should bear the profoundly sacred responsibility of leadership amon~ the~m. It is no light burden that you carry. The future and the integrity of American religious life lies greatly under the influence of your own liyes: your own union with God, your own humility and integrity, your courage and vision will tell historically upon your communities. The mystery of your lives is inextricably bound up with the mystery of the lives of the sisters whom you love and whom you serve in this ministry. I.t is finally one mystery: a form of life in which Christ is followed with such intensity and at such a level of renunciation that to follow becomes to imitate him concretely and historically in his chastity, his poverty, and his obedience even to the death of the cross. The gravity and the demands of this leadership of communities towards a life of holiness would be hard to exaggerate. That is why you honor .me by asking me to speak with you about it. I know that you have asked me to b~ with you today because the pope has appointed me Pontifical Delegate to head a special commission of three 801 11119 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 bishops whbse task ist9 foster the pastoral service bishops are to offer Ameri-can religious. In a lengthy interview that many of you have read, I have already commented upon'this appeal of the Holy Father to the bishops and on the constitution of a joint group of bishops and religious. Rather than repeat those remarks I should like to extend them, but only in the context of the mystery of religious life'andthe history of American religious over the past twenty years. ~ You know that I am n.o expert in these matters, but what I think, I put before you as an i~nvitation to youi~ own reflections. I hope ,that these remarks will ~mplify several important subjects touched upon in the interview. My reflections then, fall into four parts: --The vision which the Church possesses of religious life --The Paschal MYStery as religious have experienced it in the past twenty years --The papal appeal to the bishbps of the United States --The papal charge to this Episcopal Commission with its Committee of Religious. The Vision, Which the Church Possesses of Religious Life ~, I make n'~ apologies for beginning with the call that the Church recognizes as yours. It alone provides the context or the horizon in which an, y other aspect of religious life can be evaluated or discussed. It is not that religious alone are called to holiness. You know that all Christians are called to holiness. But religious are called to that holiness which consists in a total consecration to God expressed in the unique continuation and embodiment of his life of poverty, chastity and~obedience: not to copy it, but to imitate it--that is to transpose it into the situation of the twentieth .century--so that this form of life would not die within the ChurCh, that it would be a continual reminder to the entire Church, in as public a witness as possible, of the holiness to which every Christian ig ~alled. Not every Christianis called to leave father and mother, husband and wife, children and relatives, to abandon personal property and private career, arid to follow Christ in the direction of one's life as that voice is concretized in the Church and in this given community of disciples. But every ~Christian is called to that detachment and love which give an.absoluie priority to Christ as the communication of God, and the public vows~of religious are. a constant, sacramental reminder of this absolute claim that Christ makes upon us all. Religious life is essentially sac~:amental in the sense that it is an explicit, historical and tangible manifestation of the victorious grace of God emerging to its completion in human signs and actions. And we can never really under-stand it except as sacramehtal. It'is classically true that every human being has to struggle for her integrity, not simply in the sense that a commitment to the truth is' alwayg costly, but in the more basic sense of keeping some consistency, some focus in her life that gives unity to everything else, that makes sense out of'diversity. What is true for the individual is also true of a religious community or a way of life. The Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge / 1103 demands~upon your time, the conflicting claims for your attention, are infinite and sometimes irreconcilable. Not that~anyone of them is illegitimate, but that all of them together constitute an impossibility. The expectations in which a religious community lives can be multiple, endless and even mutually contra-dictory. One can feel surrounded and fragmented by their press, wondering at the end of a busy day what was actually accomplished, seemingly more react-ing ~to incessant demands that peacefully moving through them with a cumulative sense of purpose, even beginning to wonder in her darker moments if this way of living has any value or has kept its meaning. A religious or even an entire community can feel eroded, burnt out, because one cannot meet all the demands, and what slips away almost imperceptibly is the vision that makes sense even of the frustration. It is simply imperative for a religious--as ~for any human being with a serious Christian vocation--to have a fundamen-tal focus for her way of life, one that is not negotiable, one in terms of which everything else is negotiated. So the Church over and over again reminds religious what they are for" the whole Church, the vision and the call that is theirs:~you are those consecrated by the call of God to follow C.hrist in the mystery of the Church by continuing his chastity, his poverty, and his obe-dience for the sake of the kingdom of God. It is an enormous gift that is yours, and it is a gift for the whole Church. The P~schal Mystery as Religious Have Experienced It in the Past Twenty Years Sisters, 1 know that these have been hard and demanding years since the Vatican Council. The opportunities have been glorious and the achievements of your communities have been obvious and remarkable--but at what an enormous cost! Let me speak a bit about the history of the past twenty years. One of the staggering parts of this cost over these years has been the, numi~rical diminishment of the congregations of American sisters. Following the direction of .the Council and in obedience to subsequent papal documents such as Ecclesiae Sanctae, enormous efforts were brought to.bear in a sincere and seriously considered move to renew and adapt religious life in light of worldwide cultural transformation and in,the spirit of the Church. Yet .this tremendous enterprise was followed by striking numerical disintegration. Where no~,itiate classes had been thirty, now there were three--if any at all. Convents and institutions were closing all over the nation. The average age of the sisters was going up steadily. Some of the elderly began to fear that there would be no one around to take care of them, while tens of thousands were either leaving or had already left for possibilities and for a future which seemed to them more secure and more promising. You and many other religious may have lived with a sinking sense of :loss as close friends with whom you shared this form of life left. At the same time American sisters were exposed to an unprecedented level of misrepresentation and. attack from both the right and the left. Sisters who had for so long lived as the object of an almost uncritical 1104 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 awe within ~he Church, now were exposed to two implacable critics:~ shrill accusations that their catechetics were destroying the Church, that their every change was a betrayal of their heritage, that they had become worldly, com-promised women who deserve their own~decline; or from the left came the arched suggestions that religious life could only attract the sexually stunted, the sociall3~ and economically insecure, an unenlightened and declining rem-nant from a dated Church. There are the recent plays-on Broadway that dismiss them as unsophisticated fanatics and some "Catholic~' publications make a practice of continual harping criticism exaggerating every conflict out of all ~proportion. There are circles in which to be a woman religious today is to walk into an atmosphere of the joke half-told, of suspicion or unconscious arrogance, sometimes on the part of clerics, bf the question t.hat waits for no answer, of the unrelenting and constant demand for justification. ~ As in every, o~fier group, priests or lay people, so among religious there arr, no'doubt, some who give foundation for justifiable criticism and concern. But, Sisters,--you who are present here today, and otliers who are not with us at this meeting--you hav~ sustained the cost of these years and nothing you have accomplished, no matter how great and obvious, matches what you hay6 accomplished in living in fidelity to your vocation through these difficult years of tensions from outside sources as well as from internal divisions, misunder-standings, and polarizations. Indeed, many faithful American women reli-gious, and not the least those in positions of responsibility, truly passed through a profound experience of the Paschal Mystery. 1 suspect that this experience has yet to register in all its valence within the reflection of American religious. You will find any number of works that counsel religious to count their gifts and number the aptitudes they bring to the Church. This 'is certainly sound advice. But there is very little written about the collective experience of entering into the rejection and humiliations and loss that configured many of you with the Passion--and even less about how profound a fulfillment this experience is of the vocation that is yours, the public witness to the whole Church of the life and de~tiny of Christ.' . When Victor Frankl reflected upon the horror of hi~ experience "of Auschwitz and Dachau, he summarized his own survival with a single line from Nietzsche, that those who have purpose and vision can bear with alrriost any manner of existence: "The person whohas a why to live for, can bear with almost any how.''2 There is a clear and profound sense~of identity in many American religious born of prayer, faith, and a~deep love for the Church, which has enabled them to live through these years of deflated expectations and even searing personal disappoinment. And that identity lies with their configuration to Christ. The great Saint Mechtild of Magdeburg, speaking of a single person, wrote what hasobeen the history of a number of religious con-gregations during thesepast twenty years: ~God leads his chosen children on extraordinary paths. This is an extraordinary path Religious Ltfe: The Mystery and the Challenge A noble road And a sacred way. Go~d himself has trod it.-~ And so it is true that these years, difficult though they have been, have been rich in their accomplishments and productive as religious community after religious community, responding to the challenge of the Council, moved into structures that were more lifesgiving and into more mature forms of commu-nity. In many ways over these years, American women religious found them-selves coming of age, an experience of resurrection. Many American women religious have deepened their lives of prayer, their social compassion for suffer-ing and exploitation, their sense of the international mission of' the Church. Granted that all this is true, still the question must be asked: What is the soui'ce of this new depth if it is not both the Church from which the challenge cam~, and what American women religious have endured and suffered during these twenty years? Our experience of the Resurrection emerges from the experience of the Passion. The life of authentic Christians has always combined them: ". that 1 might know Christ and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that~if possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead" (Ph 3:10-11). That is why l, believe it is excessive to see in the present, as some do, "the cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities." It is my conviction that. we must keep clearly before our minds the great and moving words of Pope John XXHI'~at the opening of the Council: In the daily exercise of our pastorai office, we sometimes have tO listen, much to our regret, to voices of persons who, though burning with zeal, are not endowed with too much sense of discretion or measure. In these modern times they can see nothing but~, prevarication and ruin. They Say that our era, in co.mparison with past eras, is getting worse, and they behave as though they had learned nothing from history, which is. nonetheless, the teacher of life. They behave as though ~t the time of former Councils everything was a full triumpl~ for the Christian idea and life and for proper, religious liberty. We feel we must disagree with those l~rophets of gloom, who are always forecasting disaster, as though the end of the world were at hand. In the present order of thi,ngs, Divine Providence" is leading us to a new order of human relations which, by humanity's own'efforts and even beyond their very expecta-tions, aredirected toward the fulfillment of God's,superior and inscrutable designs. And everything, even human differences, leads to the greater good of the Church.4 Certainly, then, the "numerous defections and decreasing n~mber of new members" cannot be denied.5 But if you understand religious life as this pro-found imitation of Christ and share the ma'rvelous vision~of faith articulated by Pope John; then rejection or abandonment or crisis or pain or threat a?e just a breakdown, but also for those who live by faith a more profound entering into the meaning and identity of religious life. Juliana of Norwich put it very simply: "So was our'Lord Jesus afflicted for us; and we all stand in this way of suffering with him, and shall' till we come to his bliss.''6 This is really the second' point I want to make. If religious life is a pi~rsi.stent 1106 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 and public reminder to the Church of the life of Christ, then the drastic numerical decline and threatened extinction of some religious communities is not something completely outside of that witness but within it. Yes, "history is the teacher of life." Each time religious life has entered into this night that can be so dark--the Reformation and the French Revolution come to mind--it has risen from suppression, persecution and virtual extinction with a deeper ecclesial sense and stronger and more effective than before. For example, when Mother St. John emerged from the prison of St. Didier in 1794,.she rebuilt with new resilience from the Terror of the French Revolution the Sisters of St. Joseph. BuLdoes anyone think that her years of suffering in prison had nothing to do with forming this "strong-souled woman to whom the commu-nity owed its regeneration?" Mary Ward, foundress of the Institute of Mary, i~ndured the" condemnation of her community and even imprisonment in Munich,,but her religious genius and her deep faith finally prevailed and continues to influence the formation of communities even through our time. In her last letter to Antonio Filicchi, the dying Elizabeth Ann Seton wrote: "Could you but know what. has happened in consequence of the little, dirty grain of mustard seed you planted by God's hand in America!"7 For the seed to grow, it had to pass into the death that ffas the end of her marriage, the violence which followed her conversion, the endless and seemingly hopeless contradictions, the betrayal of friends, the death of those very dear to her and the shameless indifference of her son, William. All of these lived by faith and had an unshakable fidelity to the Church. In their story each religious com-munity could trace a similar history from its own tradition. You and I both know that the religious accomplishments of the two previous centuries devel-oped from beginnings that were desperate in their poverty or persecution, ridden with the forebodings of some, but fostered by a few religious women of profound, courage, integrit~ and endurance. The successes were not in spite of the suffering any more than we are saved in spite of the Cross. In the myste-rious working of providence, one actua!!y leads ~nto the other.8 This, then, is my keyto understandingmiach that religious have undergone over these years of renewal. Constitutions, chapters, serious analysis, arduous discernment, regrouping of forces, creative efforts at experiment--a!l of these had done what they could. But that they would have.their effect, God gifted them with the cross, brought them into communion with the passion of the Lord. I am obviously not saying that the past twenty years have been absolved from mistakes and eLrors. That would be tO parody my remarks. It would be Sheer fantas.y to imagine that !.n times so complex such far-reaching efforts at a renewal of such magnitude could go forward without some mis't~kes and perhaps some of serious proporti0~ns here an,d there. But What I am saying is that thrgugl~ it all, you have sought to be faithful to the call of the Lord and. you want to love him and serve him in his Church fo.r.~t, he gl0rY of the Fath.er. It isin the Paschal Mystery, in fidelity in the face of Religious Ltfe: The Mystery and the Challenge / 807' suffering, that all human efforts are purified and all human faults and .failings are healed and all things that are ours are gathered by their resurrection into God. The renewal of all religious realities is only through the passion. This is how I see the mystery of your religious life and it is the light in which I read the past twenty years. It provides the religious context in which ! see the task to.which the Holy Father has called the American bishops: "To render special Tpastoral service to the religious of yoiar dioceses and your country., to assist them in every way possible to open wide the doors of their heart to .the Redeemer." The Papal Appeal to the Bishops of the United States So now let me pass to the papal response both to what you are and what you have undergone. To understand the action of the Holy Father, we must attend to an event which has been given great significance in Rome but not yet grasped suffi-ciently everywhere: the anniversary of our redemption. In the mystic symbol-isms and approximations by which we number the centuries, one thousand nine' hundred and fifty, years ago the great Paschal Mystery of Christ took place, the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus by which the world is justified, sanctified 'and saved. To underline this moment as we move toward the third millennium, the pope proclaimed the extraordinary Holy Year, the Jubilee of our Redemption. This action of the pope was profoundly and religiously~serious. Christ as Redeemer hhs been a theme of his preaching and his pontificate, and it formed the subject of his first encyclical. Through this Year of Jubilee, he is calling the whole Church to live more intensely",the central, human-divine event which gives it meaning. It would be impossible to understand many papal initiatives this year unless the centrality and urgency Of the Redemption is grasped. ~ It is within that context that he calls religious especially to renewal. Not just religious. The call is to the whole Church. But especially religious. And why? Because of this eyent,, the redemption of the entire human race by'the action of God in Jesus Christ, they are both witness :and intermediary. They are both signs to the wdrld of what Jesus Christ has done in human life--as they continu6 in a.following of him that becomes a profound configuration-- and they are means, instruments, by which this redemption of Christ reaches into this Holy Year and into this nation. What the pope is saying is simply staggering in its implications: That the .redemption which Christ offers will have its presence in our'times and its efficacy determined in great part .by th'e quality of holiness, of union with God, in the lives of religious. The religious either augments~or limits the effective mercy of God ,within her culture. .~ This is not an abstract statement of speculative theology; it is a concrete reading of what religious have become for the Church. Look at your own personal histories. For many persons whose religious gifts developed at an early age, the most influential persons in their lives,were those women religious I~'01~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 whose insightful goodness and care touched their lives more formatively than either was aware of. Look at contemporary Catholic challenges to the social structures of our nation or at the repeated efforts to ref6rm catechetics or at the person who is often among the most resourceful in parish ministry or at the person from whom people spontaneouslyexpect a quality of sympathy and understanding unavailable elsewhere--and you will very often find the Ameri-can sister. In general,'the ,history of our Church in the United States shows religious women to have lived lives of f.rugality and prayer, or persistent service to others even at enormous pers6nal cost and of providing support for those . who needed that support whether this was in education, in medical care or in social works. To cite the papal letter, "Woi'king towards th~ establishment of justice, love, arid peace, they helped to build a. social order rooted in the Gospel. striving to bring generation after generation to the maturity of Christ." To read our historv is to find the American nun at its center, both as a sign and as the~channel ot~ the Redemption. The contemporary reflection upon religious life is just beginning to assimi-late what has been the actual place of religious in the Church for centuries, certainly the Church in the United States. It has been.a theological common-place to say of the bishop or of the priest who" assists him agit in persona ecclesiae, that he acts in the name of the Church, that he represents the Church. Now increasingly~ this is being said of the religious, that the religious represents the Church. But this is just theology catching up with what the average Ameri-can Catholic has always known. The bishop represents the Churchzin its unity, its unity of doctrine, of communion, and of sacramental life. To see the bishop is tobe reminded of this unity whose source is the Spirit of God and which is made real by communion with the Successor of Peter. But the religious repre-sents the Churchqn its evangelical holiness. The Church is not only realized in their lives, but witnessed by these lives. What Teresa of Avila said of herself, "1 die a daughter of the Church." was extended by the great Elizabeth Seton to her daughters in almost her last words to them: "I am thankful, Sisters, for your kindness to be present in this trial. Be children of the Church, be children of the Church."9 It is not that Teresa of Avila 0r~the S~sters of Charity are the only daughters of the Church. All religious by the public witness of their lives are a reminder of that ecclesial discipleship to which we are all called. The religious is not.the only one who represents ~n public witnessthe holiness of the Church, but she is the one who does in this unique way through the open, countercul/ural profession of~the evangelical poverty, chastity, and humble o6edience of Christ. When the Church talks about the public,witness of religious life. this is what she is talking about: not that presentat.ion or witness proper to, the Church,in its hierarchy, but the visible manifestation of the Church,,in its holiness. Just as the unity of the Church is not simply for the bishops but for all the disciples of Christ. so the holiness of the Church is hot just for religious but for all of the disciples of Christ. But it is crucial for the Church that both its unity and its holiness be strongly represented to all, and Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge that is why we have both a hierarchy and religious life. Another way of putting thee same point is the pa.pal statement: "By their very vocation, religious are intimately linked to the Redemption. By their consecration to Jesus Christ, ,they are a sign of the redemption that he accomplished. In the sacramental economy of the Church, they are instruments for bringing, this redemption to the People of God." What, then, has the pope asked of the bishops? He has called upon all the ,bishops of the United .States to place themselves at the pastoral service of 0the religious ~ftheir diocese. Let me be more specific. You know, far better than I, that since Perfectae Caritatis and Ecclesiae Sanctae, the religious in the Ufiited States have engaged in an intensive period of renewal. General chapters have been held which took this as their principal object. Constitutions have been revised, and these general laws of religious institutes submitted to the Holy See for confirmation. National unions of the major superiors of men"and women have been formed or have been strengthened .and now flourish. New forms of rdeulcigedio iunst oa naldm aocsatd eevmeriyc afopromstaotliioc°n raenldig oiof ums icnois,ntegrrieagl atrtiaoinni.n Tgh heasve ec.hbaeneng eisn thraov-e exacted great expenditures of energy and time, i~nd have found their fulfill-ment many times in a deepening,of prayer, apostolic creativity, and the sharing of life that characterizes re_ligiotis communities. The question that religious have had to deal with, the central one according to the distinguished Jesuit theologian, Father Thomas E. Clarke, S.J., has been this issue: "How are we to disengage Christian faith from the time-bound cultural expressions and vehicles of the past without a loss of integrity? This is indeed the question at the heart of the anguish, tensions, and polarizations, cha.racteristic of a period . which has turned out to be as much a new Passion as a new Pentecost. No group in the Church, has had to deal with the question with greater seriousness than members of religious communities, and particularly of .American com-munities of religious women.''~0 Father Clarke wrote those lines some ten years ago, and without attempting a defense or an evaluation of each one of them, I think it would be fair to say that these last ten years have continued this experience: the effort to articulate a form of life.that is evangelical in its public ecclesial consecration yet American in the inculturation of this consecration. As this period of "special' ,experimentation" comes to its.close--the period, that is, in which new constitutions wer.e drafted, the Holy Father has asked the Ameiican bishops to enter int~ this process in order to support and to second the genuinely heroic efforts of the religious to strengthen and renew their communities. How are the bishops to do this?' The pope speaks generically of aiding religious in every way possible and lists seven particular ways in which this generic support can be realized~ If I had to summarize all seven, 1 would do it with a~ single word: communication. The bishops are to communicate to the whole Church, by preaching and catechesis, on the nature of religious life and, more particularly, on the link between a religious vocation and the love of God I~10 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 for each and every religious. The bishops are to communicate sacramentally and liturgically with religious; they are-to extend and support the invitations to renewal, in solidarity with the bishops and the faithful; "in th'ose cases, tob,' where individuals or groups, for whatever reason, have departed from the indispensable norms of religious life,~or have even, to the scandal of the faithful, adopted positions at variance with the Church's teaching;~" they are "to proclaim once again the Church's universal call to conversibn, spiritual renewal and holiness." The bishops are to communicate with religious in a mutual, program of work to be established by the Episcopal Com~nission of which I have been appointed Papal Delegate'and which has been strengthened ~by an appointment of a Committee of Religious to act in concert with them. Finally, the bishops are to communicate thrir findings to the Holy Father on the occasion of their ad limina visits this year. It is only in this context that we can ask ourselves the genuinely hard questions which bear upon the future of religious life in the United States. One question which the pope singles out as of immense concern: Why this drastic numerical decline? And under ~his question, perhaps the most important issue: Why are so very few American" wom~n and men interested in becoming reli-gious today? What does that say about our national character, about our Church, and about religio~as life itself?, ls tl~ere any truth in the diagnosis of religious life made by the authors of Shaping the Coming Age of Religious L,fe that the "crises set in from within religious life due to the loss of identity and the inroads of the secularizing process"?.~1 Finally,"it must be asked whether we bishops and priests have been of sufficient sensitivity to the issues which contextualize religious life in the United States. All of these and other important issues can be addressed fruitfully if they are asked by bishops hnd religious together, and asked in such peace and mutual trust that they admit of answers rather than with the kind of accusatory rage that inhibits any ability to answer anything~ These are profound issues on which We must communicate. They touch on~a problem that is common to us all yet larger than any of us, and we expect to be mutually challenged by them. For it isTnot only the problem that is common to us all, but the process as well. It is one we can only address together. Why this insistence~upon communication? Because there has been too little of it. Historically, any proces~ of renewal and any prrcess of inculturation has been opento misrepresentation, misunderstandings, and mistakes. I could take examples from the history of dogma, from the history of rites and ritual, but let me take them from the history of religious life itself. For decades the mendicant orders lay under the suspicion that their form of life was not canonically religious because they were not confined to a monastery. The foundation of the Society of Jesus was opposed ~ because this order did not engage in the choral office and admitted some members whose vows were not solemn. There was enormous opposition tO the original p~ovisions of Angela Merici despite the solemn approval.of Paul HI and these provisions eventually Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge gave way" to conventual life and monastic enclosure. The original plans of St. Francis de Sales and St. Jane Frances de Chantal that the Visitation Would be a congregation in which only simple vows would be pron.ounced and~visiting the sick would be the special work of its members also yielded to solemn vows and enclosure. ~But eventually the indulturatiori of active orders of women religious did occur, and they dominated, the extraordinary evolution of reli-gious life in the' nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Iriculturation is an' e~i-gency of the incarnation. It is an indispensable condition for the developmefit and vitality of the Church, and it is inevitably attended by its Share of divisions and struggles and even by mistakes;~2 But if these inevitable struggles are exacerbated by arrogance or impatiencei by the attribution of false motivation or by party interests, then disintegration or alienation result. Attempts at inculturation die only when .communication is stilled, and that is why I wel-come the efforts of the Holy Father to foster commu.nication in all of its forms. For over'the past twenty years as you moved throu~,h this period of experimentation, your partners in dialogue have been the members of your own congregation and other congregations. Now what the Holy See is asking for, is an extension .of this dialogue to a larger group, to the bishops and to the Church as a wh61e. For there is much incomprehension here, either about what the religious "have accomplished or why they have gone in the directions they have chosen, as well as some confusion about what the Church has been asking of religious since the Council. Through the bishops, the religious orders can engage all of the Church in this renewal of religious life: those whom they serve, those with whom they serve, and the bishops in union with the pope whose ministry it is to confirm and validate this service. There is no question.that inculturation carrieso its own dangers. For instance, the adoption.of Stoic and Neo-Platonic terminology during the patristic period, terms.with such .far-reaching implications and ambiguity as apatheia as used by Clement and Origen,-or the eons, nous and the five fundamental gnoses of Evagrius Ponticus, all these seriously endangered the entire monasticmovement.13 1 doubt further if anyone would care to resurrect the secular military ac{ivity of the Templars as an appropriate work for reli-gious: So also today. There is always a danger of having religious life become coopted as just another version of the American way of life,and the challenge given both by the traditions of the order and by the judgments of the Holy See are necessary and critically important if religious are to embody the essentials of religious'life in an American setting effectively'and authentically. This question has been with us since John Ca~ rroll; and, it is not surprising that it continues to be with us now. It is inevitable inca Church so ~universai and with" cultures and perspectives that are so divergent, That is why this extension of the dialogue is so critical, both to explain the achievements of the past twenty years but also to receive serious, supportive, and critical challenge. For there is a healthy and continual dialectic which is always at work within the Church: between the Gospel and its cultural expression, between 1t19 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 authority and prophecy, between the unity of the Church and its manifold cul-tural forms.,And the life of the Church can never be won by suppressing one or another of these moments or by an impatienl destruction of the very pro-cess. All organic foi'ms ofqife consist in a sustained balance between various and seemingly contradictory elements. Yet if they are seen by faith and in their historic interactions, they do not contradict one another but at a deeper level support one another. Thus Freud maintains that the desire to live without ten-sions the desiie to live in unchallenged comfort--is actually a disguised form of the death wish. The tension of balanced contradictions is essential to life. Bul tension does not necessarily make for life. it can also be a destructive disinteg~:ation of life. The difference lies with living faith and wiih communica-tion. Does this moment of tension open to a deeper communication or to the closing of all communication? Th'e Papal Char~g~e to This Episcopal Commission with Its Committee of Refigious , And this brings me to the fourth point ! wish to regmter~. Forethis is the reason that the Holy Father has ~not only sent a letter to the~American bishops, but has established an Fpiscopal Commission to aid'thd bishops in their service of religious and to analyze the reason for the decline in religious voca-tions. For each of these tasks. ,the Holy Father has challenged the Commission to ~work in close collaboration with American religious, to profit fromtheir experience and to assimilate their insights. To facilitate this,communication, I have appointed a Committee of Religious who will work with the Commission of Bishops in a collaborative effort to foster and to encourage religious life in any way that is open for us. We will also be ,consulting experts in various disciplines not'represented on our committee such as psychology, sociology, anthropology and history. Eurther. I have sent a letter to the Presidents of the ICWR. CMSM. and NCCB asking for any suggestions these groups might have to further this work. All of us have something to learn from one another, and the~papal initiative provides an occasion for this mutual ministry. It would be unrealistic to expect of this renewed ef~'ort at communication that.~all disagreements would cease and all misunderstandings be erased. There are too many differences in cultural background, in religious life-history, and even in the critical perspectives on contemporary issues. However, what we can achieve and what owe.must be seeking is reverence and respect for one another, a compassion for'mutual suffering, the building of a sense of trust, and the comprehension, of an underlying common mission in the Church. and from the ~Church. and for the Church as portrayed in all its doctrinal richness in Lumen Gentium. What wi~ can pray for is that we may all.find a continually greater degree of freedom from harsh judgments and stereotyping, irrespecuve of what misunderstandings remain to be,eliminated But how very difficult this will be, Sisters. to.touch the skelsticism.and the anxiety, the suspicions and the misunderstandings that have woven themselves into the fabric of~our,histories Religious Ltfe:, The MysterZ and,the Challenge over the~se years. Whatever their causes, they have become part of its texture and seem indistinguishable from our expectations and hopes. They inhibit communication and they inspire the most pejorative reading of motives while the m~mories of past wrongs rise periodically to reinforce their presence. But what is stronger, please God, is what we share together. For if members of the Church cannot work together to reconcile our histories and our differences, how could we possibly preach forgiveness and reconciliation to a world whose checkered histories and whose differences beggar those in the Church by, comparison. It is patient and loving work that we are about to do together, but your president has wisely written: "Reconciliation is the patient and loving'weaving of threads of tension into a peaceful background in which the Spirit is free to irfiprint the design."14 May this Spirit then be, ~with us in our work. In hope for this new phase of our history we pray with the Psalmist: You will guide me with your counsel and afterwards you will receive me into glory. Who have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing upon earth that I desire in comparison with you. My flesh and my heart may fail But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever (Ps 73:24-26). And so, To him whose power no~ at work in us can do more than we ask or imagine--to him be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever. Amen (Ep 3:20-21), NOTES ~For the understanding of religious life which pervades this address', see the recent document of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Seculaf Institutes, Essential Eleme'nts in the Church's Teaching on Religious Ltfe as Applied To Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate, May 31, 1983. This document is itself a "clarification and restatement" of the Church's teaching on the essential elements of religious life. This prior teaching has been articulated in the documents of the Second Vatican Council, especially Lumen Gentium, Perfectae Caritatis, and Ad Genres, in the Apostolic Exhortation Evangelica Testificatio of.Pope Paul VI, in the address of Pope John Paul II. and in the documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, especially, Mutuae Relationes, Religious and Human,~'Promotion, and The Contemplative Dimension of Religious l_Jfe, and in the new Code of Canon Law. Essential Elements is the latest attempt 9f the Holy See to fulfill the mandate enunciated by Lumen Gentium: "Church authority ha,s ,the duty, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, of interpreting these evangelical counsels. of regulating their practice, and finally of establishing stable forms of living according to them~ (n. 42). ~Victor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning, translated by llse Lasch (New York: Simon and Schuster. 1962), pp. xi, 76, and 104. 3See H. A. Reinhold (ed.), The Soul Afire: Revelation of the Mystics (New York: Pantheon 814/ Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 Books, Inc., 1951), p. 206. 4Walter A~bbott, S.J., and J. Gallagher, The Documents of l/atican II. An Angelus Book (Guild Press, 1966), pp. 712 and 713. 5~awrence Cada, S.M., et ai, Shaping the Coming A~e of Religious Ltjre.~A Crossroad Book (NewWork: The Seabury Press, 1979),opp. 49 and 43. 6Juliana of Norwich, Showings. translated from the critical text with an introduction by Edmund Colledge, O,S.A., and James Walsh. S.J./he Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978),~Cha~pter I.~8, p. 21 I. ~ , . 7Joseph I. Dii'vin, C.MI, Mrs. Seton: Foundress of the American Sisters of Charity (New Yo,~rk: Farrar,-Straus, and Cudahy, 1962), p. 448. aSee Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.,L, "The'Wreck of the Deutschland," #24, 7he Poems of Gerard Manley Hbpkins, edited by W. H. Gardner and~N. H. MacKenzie. Fourth Edi,tion (London: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 59. o. 9William Thomas Walsh, Saint Teresa of Avila (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Company, 1943), p. 579: Dirvin, op cir. p. 453. ~°Thomas E. Clarke, S.J., New Pentecrst or New PassiOn? The Direction of Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1973), p. I. ~Cada et al, op. cir. p. 43. ~For the development of the Church's teaching on inculturation, see Lumen Gentium #13 and #17, Ad Gentes #16-18, #22, #26, Gaudium et Spes #53-58, Populorum Progessio #65, and Evangelii Numiandi passim. tJSee Louis Bouyer, The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers (New York: Desclee Company, 1960), pp. 260-302, 369-394. Despite Father Bouyer's sympathetic treatment of Evagrius Ponticus, he finds himself forced to conclude: "Whatever precise meaning his own mysticism may have had for Evagrius, it would be difficul[ to deny that his expressions intro-duced a lasting threat into the Christian mystical tradition: the fatal attraction of pure abstrac-tion. A neglect of Scripture, of dogma, in favor of a 'contemplation' that runs the risk of being no more than a state of psychological vacuity is not, as experience has abundantly shown, for minds nourished on the tradition which we can now call'Evagrian, a merely chimerical danger" ibid., p. 393. For the division of monasticism into two camps, see ibid., p. 380. ~4Sister Helen Flahcrty, S.C., The Presidents Reflect--After Two ]~ears. in Women: Weavers of Peace. Leadership Conference of Women Religious, Conference Report, 1982-1983, p. 6. The Religious as Witness All persons consecrated to the Lord enter the category of living witnesses to the existence of this ~'Other," of a Reality so "different" from the reality verifiable by,the senses;;and their whole lives, individual and community, are committed to the final aim of recalling mankind~ distracted by the temptations of material goods, tol thd reality Of the supreme Good, tb,the attraction of values whichare not visible, but~are true'and much higher: ; Therefore, when the documents of the Council and the subsequent directives of the,' Church insist upon the need for the renewal of religious life, they-intend above all to ".~emphasize the need for a renewal of an "interior" nature to be realized in such a way'~ that by eliminating the shadows of useless thingff or superstructures it may more easily become the transparency of God before the eyes of today's men.--John Paul IL To the Women Religious in Albano, 19 September. 1982. L'Osservatore Romano, I1 October 1982. p. 5. Why They Leave: . Reflections of a Religious AnthropologiSt Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle, asocial anthropologist, is an Assistant General for his congregation: The article ~s the resultgf both contacts and form~! stud~ies he has made with religiou~s in America and Asia. He now resides at the generalate of his cong~regation: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio,~63; 00152 Rofiaa, Italy. The recent call by John Paul II for a review 6f the reasons behind the'sharp drop in the number.,of religious within the' United States is timely. But, if this review is to realize ~its aims, those concerned in the study must seek insights from many disciplines, e;g. history, psychology, cultural anthro-pology. In this paper, I offer some insights from cultural anthropology. I believe~that -,~ " -many religious, individually,or as communities, following the combined:~ impact of the social'RevoiUtioh of Expressive Disorder of the 1960s;and early 1970s and of Vatic.an II; went into a~state of cultural malaise, anomie, or what is~popularly called culture shock; . .: : ". . ~ -the cultural and historical~situation in which religious ~life now finds itself today in, the United States is ripe for deep interior.revitalization, provided the opportunities are vigorously grasped. ¯ ~ I will explain these staiements. But, first we must clarify a much confused word-Zculture. Paul VI touched the heart of the meaning of culture when, in Evangelii Nuntiandi, he referred to the signs and 'symbols of a people) Anthropologist G. Geertz takes the same approach, though he concentrates on symbols, when he defines culture to be "an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in 815 816 / Review for Religious, Nov.-De~., 1983 symbolic forms by means oLwhich men communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes towardqife."2 In this sei~se, cul-ture is something living, something giving .meaning, ~direction, identity to people in ways that touch not just the intellect, but especially the ~heart. One cannot define symbol without reference to feelings, to the heart. A symbol is any reality that by its very dynamism or power leads to (i.e., makes one think about, or imagine, or get into contact with or reach out to) another deeper (and often mysterious)~.reality through a sharing in the dynamism that the symbol itself offers (and not by merely verbal or additional explanations). So a symbol is not merely a sign, for signs only point to the signifie~t. Symbols represent the signified, they carry, meaning in themselves, "which allows them to articulate the signified, rather than merely announcing it.''3 New symbols do not take root in the hearts of the people overnight as substitutes for other symbols. Time, experience are necessary for new meanings to develop, new identities tO emerge. Hence, if a people's way of living or culture is dramatically undermined for whatever reason, the effects ~an be traumatic. A feeling of malaise, anomie or normlessness, will emer[ge. The sense of identity and security is lost. ~It has been said that the American Catholic Church was "the best organ-ized and most powerful of the nation's subcultures--a source of both aliena-~ ti0n and enrichment "for those born within it and an object of bafflement or un~a~iness for others.TM In other words, while Catholics shared certain symbols in common with other Americans, many key or pivotal symbols tl~at gave meaning, id~.ntityand security to their lives came from their adherence to the Church. But, as a result, of the combined impact of the Revolution of Expre~s-sive Disorder and Vatican II, the stability a~nd the extraordinary security and cohesiveness of the Church's subcultural way of life in America were shattered in ways that are only now becoming better understood. The more cohesive and itefensive a subculture, th~ more dramatic and traumatic the breakup once key or pivotal symbols are effectively attacked. Vatican II asked that the Church open itself to the world. Cultures of people were to be:understood and evangelized. The Council., therefore, sought to counter~Caih01ic "ghettoism," something that had hampered the missionary thrust of the Church for centuries. But the world to which Catholics had to turn was a world in bxtraordinary turmoil. Secondly, the~e were aspects of mainstream American culture that were (and remain) particularly challenging to ~'vangelization.Many Cathblicslwere just not. prepared to face the situation. One American commentator perceptively noted that "in the beginning, around 1964, the turmoil that was to shake the Church was like a cloud on the horizon. Within two or three years storm clouds filled the sky. And by the mid-1970s, the U.S. Catholic Church was a tempest-tossed.institution in total~ d~sarray, o,L~kew~se,~Peter Berger said that Catholics. back in 1961, were, unlike~thei~ Protestant brothers, still sitting pretty on their Rock of Peter, secure in their numbers, in the allegiance of the faithful. Within five years, he,. Why They Leave / 817 says, the Catholics suffered the same fate as the rest; they were rushing to find "plausible lifeboats with the rest of us.TM I will first.explain what is meant by the Revolution of Expressive Disorder and then indicate various mainstream American values or symbols that partic-ularly challenge evangelization. It will then be seen that once Catholics left their neat and tight subculture and were thrown unprepared into a world in cultural turmoil and into an American cultural system they had effectively resisted, for decades, the consequences were understandable. Understanding the Revolution of Cultural Disorder It is impossible to summarize with any marked degree of accuracy just what happened in the 1960s and'early 1970s. Sociologist Robert Bellah describes the cultural revolution in the western world as "an upwelling of mystical religiosity";7 Gerald Howard considered the period as "a spirited~ wildly inventive era--a decade of great social and political upheaval when ideas and customs collidedqn every corner of American° society."8 Not only America, but the entire western world underwent a transformation in the assumptions and accepted practices which form the cultural foundations of the daily lives of ordinary people. The transformation, one of the swiftest and most dramatic in recorded history, began as a form of cultural~rev01ution among a small group of campaigning radicals, and ended by changing some of the most profound habits and assumptions.9 What was considered shocking in 1967 or 1968 is so commonplace today as not to be noticed. The most common characteristic of the 1960s' Revolution of Expressive Disorder was the symbolism of anti-struciure, anti-order, anti-predictability. It was essentially an attack on boundaries, limits, certainties, taboos, roles, sys-tems,, style, predictabilities, form, ritual. It was an attempt to make ambiguity and uncertainty, not a mere passing feature of~ life, but a way of living in itself. But the revolutidn had its major contradiction in this--on the one hand there was the push towards structureless iiadividualism with its burning zeal for self-fulfillment, but on the other hand there was also the push towards the collectivity in which the individual became smothered by the collectivity. Sociologist Bernice Martin points" out that in the field of the arts, for example, the~boundaries most severely attacked were those between the public and private spheres, male and female, uncertainty over certainty.~° In the case of Andy Warhol, for example~ the sexual identities of his portraits are often left uncertain or are inverted; he makes Marilyn Monroe look like a transves-tite. Educational institutions and teachers took, a severe pounding. The radi~ cals' demands for instant and total intimacy in human relationships, instant "turning on" and .entertainment, played havoc with teacher security, identity, well-being. Given the stress on the immediate and on the functional, it was inevitable that anti-intellectualism and utilitarianism helped undermine educa-tional programs and institutes.11 In the field of religion, new or revived cult movements fitted neatly into the search for either extreme individualism or Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 collectivity, e.g., Moonies, Krishna Consciousness, communes. Even the estab-lished churches did not remain untouched by the drive for anti-structure, for instant community experience, horizontalism, subjectivity in liturgical life. If the liturgy does not give a "peak feeling experience" then, it was argued, it cannot be an authentic ritual. At this point, it would be helpful to use the models of cultures or societies that anth~opoligist Victor Turner evolved.~Z He would distinguish two types of cultures. First, there is societas, a type in which there is role differentiation, structure, segmentation, and a hierarc~hical system of institutionalized posi-tions. Most people live most of their lives in cultures that come close to ttiis model. The second type is called.communitas or liminal, that is a type of culture that is undifferentiated, homogeneous, in which individuals meet each other integrally and not as segmentalized into statuses and roles. He argues that life is a process whereby individuals or groups of people pass from societas through communitas .to societas. Commanitas comes alive in situatiohs whereby structures have been removed or reducedto a minimum; it :becomes tangible in times of transition: e.g., religious novitiates, charismatic,prayer meetings, among crowds at a thrilling baseball game, in moments of crises. In all these instances, people lose their outstanding social differences or statuses. Let us assume, by way of practical example, that after a shipwreck, the Arch-bishop of Canterbury, the President of the United States, .the Queen of Eng-land, a stoker from the s.unken ship, and two passengers who work for a living as ship stew~irds, find themselves in the sole-surviving lifeboat. Confronted with the dangers of, the sea, the' survivors experience a period of communitas, the experience of belonging to common humanity. Titles become unimpor5 tant--survival becomes the value. But communitas can never be sustained-- and has never been sustained--simply because the normal society ultimately ¯ demands some form of structur.e, some form of predictability. For~example, once the lifeboat reaches the safety of a harbor, it is inevitable that titles and statuses become once more'important. People tiave a need to know differences and to act accordingly. But some form of' communitas remains.essential for the survival of all societies; some form of withdrawal--secular or religious--is required as a prerequisite to a new level of involvement in structure. People need to experience for periods of time basic common human values, like brotherhood, the common Fatherhood of God, nationhood, in order to keep their lives balanced. According to 'Turner, therefore, life is a process whereby persons pass from structured "ordinary" living to communitas experiences and back once more .to "ordinary," living. The process is constantly repeated if the particular society is to be maintained and if individuals are to achieve ,human satisfaction and stability. In the communitas periods many of the symbols of relationships, values,~norms, which prevail~ in the° domain of the daily pragmatic structures are reversed, suspended~ reinterpreted, or replaced by a wholly _other set of symbols and ways of acting. The period in which Why They Leave / 819 comrnunitas occurs is called liminality.13 There are periods in history when whole nations, in varying ways or in parts, seek to go through either in an almost spontaneous or planned way communitas or liminal periods. It may take the form of a widespread burst of nationalism, for .example as took place in Britain during and after the Falklands' crisis. But when the models are applied to the 1960s, it is evident that the emphasis in politics, education, arts, religion, was on the evoking of the communitas. The liminality was marked by anti-structure, unpredictabil-ity, taboo-breaking--all that we have described above. Many sought to live liminality not jus.t for part of their daily lives or for short periods, but for life. In the case of religion, the emphasis, as in the rest of the counterculture movements, was on the fraternity of man rather than on the Transcendence, on experience and emotional interaction rather than on abstraction and quiet-ness. In communitas experiences, especially of the spontaneous type such as marked the 1960s, intellectual interaction or argumentation have little or no effect. Euphoria must run its course, in other words. As noted, there are benefits from liminalperiods for the well-being of societies and individuals, but excesses can become counterproductive. As the poet W. H. Auden put it: "The Road of Excess leads more often than not to The Slough of Despond."14 By the early 1970s, the cultural liminal revolution was drawing to a close. As Berger notes "the idea of 'permanent' revolution is anthropologically an absurd fantasy . There are fairly narrow limits to the toleration of disorder in any human society."15 In this, he was agreeing with the analysis of Victor Turner. Margins, structures, boundaries--all returned, though rarely as before, across the whole spectrum of human activity, e.g.- politics, economics, education. Despite the enormity of the upheaval there were some very positive effects of the cultural revolution, such as a sharpening concern for human rights, a heightened awareness that institutions must be constantly checked for impersona!ism and injustices, and.that religion relates one not just to God but also to people . Some Key Symbols in American 'Cultural Life The anthropologist tries to find the key symbols that together bind~people within the one cultural stream. United States is so vast a country that there is'a realodanger of being simplistic in any gffort to find key symbols~ However, even given this caution, I still feel it is possible to point to relevant key symbols that emerge either in advertising or in everyday literature. The following are symbols that to me are important,~if we are to consider religious life and its relevance within the contemporary .United States. These symbols existed prior to the Revolution of Expressive Disorder. In some instances they were severely questioned by the counterculture, but they nonetheless continue to be evi-dently present. In some cases, in fact, the symbols became, reinforced by the revolution, e:g. individualism, the search for self-fulfillment. 1120 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 The Symbols of Personal Freedom/Individualism, Achievement, Self-Fulfillment Evoke Increasing Loneliness and Alienation Within Society That sharp observer, de Tocqueville, noted decades ago--as something already emerging--the problems of growing individualism, loneliness and alienation: "Selfishness blights the germ of all virtues; iridividualism, at first, only saps the virtues of public life; butqn the long run it attacks and destroys all 'others and is at length absorbed in downright selfishness.''~6 Recently, social-economist Amitai. Etzione built his critical revirw of American life and future on the same insight,t7 Historian David Potter, noted earlier, that "Americans, having demanded a higher degree of freedom, have paid a higher price for it in the degree of their psychological isolation." He.then pointed out that as a consequence of this isolation a sense of personal inadequacy and insecurity inspired by a relentlessly competitive system has produced some of the most Characteristic forms of mental illness in America.18 The more individualism is pushed the more the bonds binding people to the group and the common good are weakened. Hence, Bellah could conclude, with deepening sorrow, that as the result of the overstress on individualism "marriage, friendship, job .church are dispensable, if these don't meet my needs" [my italics].19 ~ymbols o.f Youth and Good Health Downgrade the Positive Qualitites of Aging and Suffering Christopher Lasch writes that American society "defines productivity in ways that automatically exclude 'senior citizens'."2° J. Tetlow recently observed that the American value system not only demands that one be healthy, but that one feel healthy. He comments that "experienced religious when they enter what the: Church has known as the 'dark night' for centuries, think they probably need psychiatric therapy.TM Given these attitudes to the key symbols of youth and good health, it is understandable if the agonies of death and dying fit uneasily into the American folkways. The dead must "look peaceful and fresh',; there must be no sign of suffering having taken place?~ Symbols of Material Consumerism Demand that PleaSure and Satisfaction Be Immediate ~ The ease with which goods can be discarded and replaced by "better ones" reinforces the feeling that one should not tolerate problems for too long~ The tolerance threshold becomes increasingly lower?3 One can include within the symbols of material consumerism, the symbols also of pragmatism and noise. A guiding force isthe assumption that what is useful for satisfaction is good; it generates all kinds of experiments, some good, ~some not good, Inevitably the drive for experimentation, for personal satisfaction and fulfillment, can be inirhical to the~peace essential for deep reflection and contemplation. But the world of mass media,advertising does not help the situation. It intrudes, as though by right, at so many points of one's daily life and so often in a noisy Why They Leave / 821 way. Daniel Bell blames the 1960s for an intensification of the pressure for more and more noise.24 1 doubt if the situation has changed. Vatican II and the Cultural Revolution Collide The dramatic opening paragraph of Gaudium et Spes of Vatican II pin-pointed a vital thrust desired by the fathers, a thrust founded in the Gospel imperative to go. out to all with the saving and consoling news of salvation: "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of men of this age, especially those who are poor.or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the.griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ." Committed Cath-olics held within a ghettosubcult'ure could no longer consider their evangeliza-tion obligations to be coterminous with that subculture. Liturgies were to be adapted to local cultures, having in mind also the community orientation of the Church. Catholics had now to.enter loving and listening dialogue with the once "suspect" Protestants. As regards religious, "the manner of living,, praying and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious and also., to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given cul(ure" [my italics].2~ Quitg independent of the cultural upheaval hitting the western world at t~his point, the above new theological and pastoral emphases were sufficient in themselves to make many question the validity of the contemporary under-standing# of the pivotal symbols~ within the Catholic subctilture of America. Recall the point made earlier: the more cohesive and integrated a subculture is, the more violent and traumatic will be the consequences--once pivotal symbols are shaken ~r undermined. We cannot abstractin fact from the reality that the movement to shake Catholics into becoming pastorally aware of the world beyond their ghetto als0 coincided with a world in "unnatural" turmoil, a world of intense countercultural liminality: The combined effects of the theological and cultural changes of Vatican II and the cultural revolution left Catholics breathless, lost in what seemed to be an. ever-increasing malaise, loss of direction. People felt stunned, rootless, never sure what was to happen next within the Church that for centuries s~emed unchanging. They became exposed to movements, pressures they could not understand. The mass of intricate cultural supports that had protected the ghetto Church for over a hundred ybars within the United States were suddenly removed. One can only agree with Avery Dulles' assessment of the period after the Council: "In most countries the decade since the Council has been one of internal conflict, confu-sion, disarray. The Church seems, for the first time in centuries, to be an uncertain trumpe~."26 Let us look a little closer at some of the ways in which the confusion or disarray evolved with such speed. We will then be in a better position to understand why the numbers of religious have so dramatically dropped. Within the.Catholic subculture, prior to Vatican II, it was inevitable that Church authority, as represented by bishops, priests and even religious, held 822 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 . generally a socially and pastorally honored position. Their roles and the expec-tations of the people were clearly defined~ and supported by what ,was thought to be an unchanging theology. Vatican II returned to important emphases as regards liturgy, the role of ecclesial aut.hority within the community of the faithful, the role of laity in the apostolate. These emphases, in themselves would have been sufficient to shake and question the status of priests and religious wiLhin the subculture. But I~would agree with~sociologist George A. Kelly that th.e.~dramatic undermi~ning of pivotal symbols of authority~ priesthood, reli-gious life (according to the meanings then given them) was caused in no small way by the inse.nsitive attacks on the symbols by Catholics themselves. Armed with ,the anti-structure symbols of the cultural revolution, the attackers some-. times~used a most remarkable viciousness: One well-known~civil rights leader p~ublicly referred to the Church as "a0iwhore"!27 Priests and religious even seemed to seek out publicity when they left their vocational commitment. Little wonder if,~the faithful had their confidence~in the symbols undermined. The confidence of many priests and religious was also not infrequently threatened. But the confusion and disarray was.helped along even by sympathetic people holding important positions within the subculture. Let me explain. An anthropologist, in studying a particular culture, will seek out the authority structures and symbols of the people. He .will seek to find out how the credibil-ity of the symbols is maintained.But of similar importance is the study of ritual, whether ii be~ civj.'l, secular or religio~us. Ritual is vital to the maintenance of a group's life. One may disturb a people's identity by effectively attacking their ritual. The speed with which .liturgical changes took place following Vatican II, not the changes themselves, left concerned anthropologists aghast.~ Ritual consists primarily of symbols, not signs. As we noted, signs can be substituted for other signs with no problem at all. But not symbols, for they relate to the.hearts old, people. Any change must be done with extraordinary sensitivity and, with full involvement of the people themselves. Victor Turner and Mary Douglas, both leading anthropologists in the study of ritual, both Catholics, have commented~on what happened. At .one point,t; in hisqengthy analysis, Turner notes that '~one cause of the large-scale.withdrawal of many Catholics from the institutional life of the Church who still think of themselves as Christians (and sorrow as widows do for the death of someone~beloved) is the comprehensive transformation of ritual forms under the influence of theoreticians drawn from the positivist and materialist camps . ,,2s It was not a questign of ~topping change. But it was rather a question of how that change was to take place. Mary Douglas is equally strong in her analysis.29 ~Inevitably, religious shared the "blame" in the minds o~f the faithful for disruptive and insensitive,speed with which so many changes took place. Their credibili(y and prestige .as educators was undermined. As their status within the subculture became confused owing to the breakup of the subculture itself, religious often did not develop a more community-oriented, esteemed status as sensitive educators. For this reason they became not particularly attractive Why They Leave / 823 leaders to follow, 'thus contributing to the falloff in vocation recruitment. Religious and Culture Shock One contemporary commentator,~i). Callahan, incisively and sympatheti-cally noted that "it is nbw"trivial to say that W~stern culture is undergoing a crisis, but it is not trivial to live it." In order to situate what happened to many priests and religious, it is relevant to quote his next poii~t: "To live it and not just talk about it means that one takes upon one's shoulders, willingly or unwillingly, all the burdens of confusion, uncertainty and a clouded vision."3° Priests and religious were key symbols within the American Catholic subcul-ture. Suddenly, in.ways never before expected, the prestige and~acceptance of these symbols was undermined. Many priests and religious, trying to live with ~the challenge, struggled to shoulder all the burdens, confusion in roles, uncer-tainty of pastoral and vocatignal goals that resulted from the cbmbined impa~t of Vatican-Ii and the cultur'~Frevolution. Little wonder that many went ifito a state which we call, culture sh~ck---"culture" because the subculture that had defined in n.o ~small ~way their identity and security had now collapsed. Louis Luzbetak defines culture shock as "a reaction that is blind and unreasoffed, a reaction that is but a subconscious flight or escape from a culturally disagree-able environment."3t I believe four types of escape on the part of religious from a culturally disagreeable environment can be detected: 1. Vocational Withdrawal ,o Vei'y few religious prior to Vatican II were trained either to understand empirically the nature of culture, Culture change, or even to appreciate that theology is open to progressive deepening and therefore change. Just one insight will help to appreciate the situation. Prior to Vatican II the word "sociology" was most generally synonymous with "social ethics." It was a most rare seminary or formation house that included any serious teaching in empiri-cal social sciences; given the stress on the a priori method, recourse to the empirical social sciences was not seen as useful or important. It is scarcely surprising therefore if many religious became utterly confused about what was happening as a consequence of Vatican II cultural and theological changes and of the impact of the cultural revolution of the 1960s--so confused, in fact, that they withdrew from religious life as their only method of coping. The missiolo-gist, Walbert Bfihlmann, recently cited a speaker's comment at a Rome meet-ing. The speaker noted .that "if some 40,000 priests and religious have 'given up' in the last ten years it is not least of all because they had not been prepared for the cultural, sociological, and theological °changes that called everything into question. This is why they could not cope with the changes."32 2. Reverse Nativism By "reverse nativism" I mean that religious struggled to escape the frustrating challenge of change by going back to the symbols of predictability 1~24 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 and certainty of the former Catholic subculture. And they sought to remain in the security and identity of the past. This is not an .uncommon type of reaction on the part of adjustment to dominant cultures or rapid change. The Lefebvre movement is an example of this type ~of'reaction within the Church. History shows that while this t.ype bf turning away from reality gives security and identity, it can only be a temporary situation. Reality must at some time or other be faced up to': : 3. Cultural Romanticism A person who suffers from "cultural romanticism" is one who, in order to cope with culture ocon.flict, believes the culture he is .noW faced with is the culture. D~ramatically. discarding the ~past,.he avidly turns to the new way of living, new values, with a most uncritical approacO. He is just blinded by what he assumes to be the beauty of all around him. ~In.~the case of religious faced with the 1960s crises, many, having lost direction; capitulated to the counter-culture movement. Hence, they sought the '~instant" community, as much spontaneity as possible without structures in religious communities. Eventually a tiredness emerged, 9 hollowness, for as we have seen ther~ is a htiman limit to constant change, constant spontaneity. Not only did this overstress on self-fulfillment and feeling, have tragic effects on religious communities, but it also led to unnecessary crises within formation programs and seminaries. Formation programs and seminary systems generally collapsed since they were based~ on a model of service that fitted the old Catholic subculture, but not the new pastgral stress inherent in the community model of the Church. Formators were at a loss to know what to do. Many gave way to the pressures of the counterculture and dispensed with structures. The consequence of this is well described~by Henri J. M. Nouwen in an article published i.n 1969. He claimed that all formation has "as its primary task to offer a meaningful structure which allows for a creative use of the student's energies." When such meaningful structure is lacking, then the student becomes excessiv.e, ly dependent on endless self-scrutiny, affir-mation by superiors and others. The final result of this process is individual .,and group depressionP3 I am sure that as a consequence of the confusion into which formation programs fell, many young religious students left, as well as formation staff since they were being subjected to criticism from all sides--from students, from major superiors, from fellow religious (there are a~ many experts on formation as there are members of a province!). Other interesting signs of romanticism could be seen. Religious were asked ' by Vatican II to adapt to the local culture. Many took this literally, claiming that the only way to get close to the people was to be "one with them." Hence, life-styles changed in an effort to achieve this identification; in the process, of course, religious beqame so identified with middle-class styles that they.were indistinguishable from this class~and lost all credibility in consequence. So Why They Leave / 825 some religious were forced to face the fact that for them religious life no longer held any purpose. Sometimes, crises occur'red when religious overstressed the self-fulfillment "craze" of the counterculture. The more individualistic :they became,.the weaker their ties with the community. As Robert°Bellah noted (as quoted above), such people are apt to opt out of service to the community once they are placed under any pressure from the common good. Not infrequently, religious, having moved out of traditional apostolates, found themselves as social workers, civil rights' leaders, development workers. In .these new roles they sought to give meaning to theirs, lives as religious. But the more they tried to obtain identity from their work of service, the more elusive it became. For religious life has meaning first and foremost from the radical commitment to Jesus Christ in faith, When this reality was overlooked, religious eventually found themselves out of religious life. 4. Cargo Cultism ~ Thomas Merton, in the'Very year of his death, felt that many in the Church (and therefore in religious life) had adopted what is called a "cargo cult" approach tO ,renewal. Anthropologists, particularly those who work in Melanesia, South Pacific, have long documented such cults. People destroy buildings, gardens, and then build new structures, e~g. primitive airstrips or boat jetties. Then, with the .old structures'gone and the new ones established, the people' would sit and wait for the ancestors to fly. in with the goods of the western world. If the ancestors did not arrive, then they recognized that they had chosen the wrong structures or used the wrong magical words.~-Merton rightly recognized that this is something that pertains not only to so-called primitive Melanesia. He felt ttlat the same cargo approach was alive and well ih the ChurchP5 Once chapters of renewal had b~en held, fine documents written, beautiful words spoken, new structures of government introduced, then religious expected that by sitting and waiting the renewal would take place in consequence. But, as in the case 6f the cults in Melanesia, nothing of the kind happened, unless the religious concerned tackled renewal and conver-sion. within the h'eart. Only this radical.conversion to the Lord would ulti-mately make structures or documents effect their aims. The more this was not recognized, the more religious became disillusioned and angry, their anger often being directed at structures and superiors, which, sometimes resulted in the withdrawal from religiou~ life. The structural changes, e.g. in government, were often done with consider-able zeal and hope, under.standably legitimizing these changes as the response to the call to adapt to the local culture. Some provinces of religious congrega-tions, for example, opted to govern according to the American system of "checks and balances." One senses at times that this was done without suffi-cient critical analysis. It was felt that this civil system would check any further abuse by authorities. The aspiration was somewhat cargo cultish, since other problems have emerged that have on occasions exacerbated the situation and 1126 / Review for Religibus, Nov.-Dec., 1983 made government even more difficult to operate within the religious provinces. Arthur Schlesinger asserts that "theFounding Fathers, who saw conflict as the guarantee of freedom, grandly defied the inherited wisdom [in the Constitu-tion] . . . [which] thus institutionalized conflict in the very heart of the American polity."36 Conflict is part and parcel of being~human,.~but its institu- ¯ tionalization within a religious congregation's government may not be quite what is needed if religious life values are to predominate. Secondly, David Potter pointed 'out that the "pervasive repugnance for any sort of personal authority has lain close to the heart of the American idea of freedom. It has colored Americans" distrust of power, has encouraged them to diffuse power when they could, and has caused them to shrink from admitting its existence when they could not prevent it from being concentrated."37 There has been a "cargo cultish" assumption that the civil system of government would solve so many problems, but I belibve in uncritically open-ing themselves to this system, religious have ~pted for a form ofigovernment which can be so fearful of moving without what might be called an-"orgy of consultation" that a paralysis sets in, At a time of decline in vocations and challenging new pastoral needs, no government should be so subject to paraly-sis. Governments in religious life today must consult widely; for this~to take place there must be trust on the part of all concerned. If not, lit~le~wonder if major superiors resign, and well~-suited potential leaders refuse to assume office for fear of being paralyzed by so many checks and~balances and the fear of built-in conflict. I .suspect this is a-significant factor behindi the burnout of superiors and the not infrequent .departure.from religious life. I also believe that religious who have assumed a "cargo cultish" approach to religious life structural changes are merely delaying,the moment of truth for themselves and their congregations. .~.~ I suspect that when the civil system of.government was adopted uncriti-cally, provincial chapter participants did not ask the right questions, e.g., "What is religious life government for?" "Did the founder insist on :a form of government that he considered integrally.~related to the realization of the congregation's aims?" David J. O'Brie.n, commentingin 197-2 on the uncritical Americanizing drive in adaptation noted a degree of disillusionment emerging: "The notion of Americanizing the church now appears to many as unworthy, even immoral."32 Simplistic "cargo cultish:' attitudes about government struc-tures may be waning. I am°inclined to think so. Revitalization of Religious Life: Anthropol~ogical ~sights Today religious life remains in the state of the liminality, of uncertainty, of co~fusion, that has mar.ked the period since Vatican II. Now one hears the near-despair question: How is it possible to survive? Religious life will survive, even if a significant number of congregations are expected to die in the years to come)9 There will always be people in the Church who will want to extend and~ radicalize their baptismal commitment. These will try to express the life Why They Leave / 827 and holiness of the Church in all its radicalness. ~And they will want to do this in groups in order to be supported in ~their~eff.orts. I believe, however, even though malaise and confusion are still affecting religious life that we'a~'e on the verge of an in-depth revitalization. The Church is in a cultural and historical stage that parallels the vital points of:growth in the Church, namely the post-Reformation and the post-French Revolution ¯ periods. Both periods had been preceded by extraordinary social, political, cultural and religious upheaval. The affect of the French Revolution and its associated forces in Europe on religious life was traumatic. It is estimated that on the "eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at approximately 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularizations which followed had run their course in France and the rest of Europe, fewer than 70,000 remained.''4° The Church wffs stunned'by what seemed a calamity. Yet in fact eventually an extraordi-nary number and variety of new congregations emerged fro~m tliis liminal period of shock and confusion. Similarly, after the Reformation, there was.a period in which people placed hopes in new ecclesiastical laws, structures, to bring them through the crisis. But, their approach asked of legislation and new structures what they could never do alone; their .approach was "cargo cultish." Eventually the truth came home to the sincere--the way of renewal is.born out ~ of the near-despair 'question asked in faith--how is it possible to survive? Ultimately, only by a committed return to prayer, faith, union with Christ, the original charism of the particular founder and the prayerful discernment of the ,needs of the ~world, As one historian put it, the Council of Trent, despite its ' tortuous length, really.effected nothing in depth until, under "the reforming influences of men like St. Ignatius Loyola, the stress turned to personal prayer and abnegation, and a renewed commitment to sacramental life. [which] demanded continuous heroic effort.TM ~ What will characterize religious life in its revitalized form? A major insight comes from~Paul VI in Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975. He challenged the Church ib recognize that "what matters is to evangelize man's culture and cultures. in a vital wa, y and fight to'their very roots",(n. 20). If we take this challenge and relate it to the mission of religibus life in the United States (and elsewhere), 1 ,believe John Kavanaugh's statement is correct: "One powerful and often over-looked possibility is in the rediscovery of the religious life as countercultural force."42 This means that we must go 1sack and look closely at the symbols within our culture that urgently need challenging'with Gospel values. This challenging can be effectively done not in words alone but ultimately through a life-style that witnesses to values, attitudes, that are Gospel in origin. As wit-nesses they will be living symbols of what the Gospel really means. The spiritu-ality of future religious life will be, as Karl Rahner observes, "a spirituality of the Sermon on the Mount and of the evangelical counsels, continually involved ~ in renewing its protest against the idols of wealth, pleasure and power."43 To be more explicit, religious life in the United States will enter a new 1~91~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 spring, if religious themselves recognize that for the culture to be evangelized in depth "in a vital way and ,~r!ght to [its] very roots," they must themselves become - radically committed living witnesses to the Incarnation and Transcen-dence in orderto counter the symbols of secularism and selfishness. - living witnesses to vibrant community life, to counter the symbols of excessive individualism and alienation insociety~ . - living witnesses to a love of prayer, contemplation, to counter the sym-bols of chronic pragmatism and materialism; ~ - living witnesses through their life-style and attitudes to God's mercy, Jesus Christ, ifi concern for~ the alienated,0the oppressed--nationally and internationally; - living witnesses of respect for older people and their accumulated wis- ,. dora, to counter the symbol of excessive stress on the cult' of youth in a productivity-oriented culture; ¯ - living witnesses to the radical demands of asceticism in opposition to the symbols of consumerism, instant spirituality; - living witnesses, to the virtue of. hope, to cbunter ~symbols that seek to negate any redemptive and ~schatological power of suffering. American~mainstream ctilture is steeped in a rich mythology of mission to greatness, a mythology--once deeply Christian in its orientation--with sym-bols of journeying to build a society befitting the dignity of men and women. In recent decades, this mythology of journeying has been used opolitically, in ways never intended by the early dreamers, poets, prophets and builders of the nation. Religious, when they respond to the call to radicalness, effectively have the chance to draw from this mythology, purifying it of its subsequent aberra-tions. In the process they will touch the hearts of Americans.who are genuinely sehrching for how to journey to real greatness. The pope requeSted the review of religious life in the United States not only because religious life needs this critical reflection within the country, but also because of the influence American religious have had "on religious life +throughout the world.TM Anthropologists, who happen to be Catholic, and who work in ,various parts of the world come into contact with the influrnce of American-b~rn religious. Hence, they recognize the importance of the pope's singling out of American re!igious life. If the review has the effect of deepening commitment and reVital-ization in American religious congregations, this will have a flow effect throughout the world. The mythology of mission to greatness would then be international ir~ its implications It has been Said that the anthropologist's trade lies in unearthing what is hidden and articulating wha~ is latent. In this brief article, I have tried ,to illustrate through the use of anthropological techniques of analysis what has happened.to religious life in the post-Vatican II United States. Many of the insights have been spoken of before. But here /hey are:articulated within various anthropological frames or parameters in an effort to put them into a Why They Leave / 829 better context and :be more objectively understood. Many other disciplines will expertly highlight points not raised here. But, it is argued, the anthropologist's particular expertise is to be found in the interpretation of culture. Religious in America prior to Vatican II belonged ,to a :highly organized and structured subculture of American~life. The anthropologist has specialized insights into the position of religious within such a subculture, but he has also insights into what happened to religious~ life once this subculture broke down with such ~apidity and trau'ma. This paper attempts to offer some of thrse insights. A second aspect of the paper~related to the future of religious life in the United States. As evangelizers are called on to eVangelize culture in depth, the anthro-pologist is surely in a key position to unearth.hidden, but powerful, symbols that must be evangelized if Gospel values are to take root. Herice, the last part of the article is concerned with What religious life should symbolize if it is to become something not lived in some ~r~'refieda~mosphere, .but rather a power-fully radical vehicle through which the Gospel can take root within the hearts and ~minds of American people: Then the people will come to see conversion as a journeying "into a place 6i" promise anff hope"'(Preface of Thanksgiving). ¯ NOTES ~No. 63. 2The Interpretation of Cultures"(N.Y.: Basic; Books¯ 1973), p:89. ~Louis Dupre, The Other Dimension: A Search for the Meaning ofi Religious Attitudes (N.Y.: The Seabury Press, 1979), p. 105. 4J0hn iCogley, Catholic America (N.Y.: Image, 1974)¯ p. 135. .sCharles A. Fracchia, Second Spring: The Coming of Age of U.S. Catholicism (San Francisco: Harper & Ro,w, 1980), p. 83. ~Facing up to Modernity: Excursions in Society, Politics and Religion (Manchester: Penguin, 1979), p. 228. 7"Religion and Power in America Today" in Commonweal, 3 December 1982, p: 655. 8 The Sixties: The Art~ Attitudes, Politics and Media of Our Most Explosive Decade, ed. Gerald Howard (N.Y,: Washington Square Press, 1982), p.,4: 0See explanation by Bernice Martin. A Sociology of Contemporary Cultural Change (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1981)¯ p. 1 and passim. ~Olbid. p. 112. '~See Ralph W. Larkin, Suburban Youth. in Cultural Crisis (N.Y.: Oxford University Press, 1979), p. 171. ~2For a summary of his approach see Victor and Edith Turner, Image and Hlgrimage in Chris-tian Culture: Anthropological Perspectives (Oxford: Basil Bl~ckwell, 1978), pp. 243-255. ~See,Gerald A. Arbuckle, "Evangelization and Cultures: Complexities and Challenges" in The Australasian Catholic Record, Vol. LVI, 1979¯ pp. 254-257: ~4"Contra Blake" in Collected Poems, ed. E. Mendelson (London: Faber & Faber, 1976), p. 540. ~50p. cit., p. 17. ~rDemocracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville, ed. P. Bradley (N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1953), II, p. 98. I!~!0 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 ~TRebuilding America Before the21st Century: An Immodest Agendd~(N.Y2~McGraw-Hill, 1983). , ~ ~SFreedom and Its Limitations in Americt~n;Life, ed. Don E. Fehrenbacher (~;tanford: Stanford University Press, 1976), pp. 22, 29. ~90p. cir., p. 652. ~°The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in An Age of Di~ninishing Expectatiohs (N.Y.: Warner Books, 1979), p. 354. 2~"American Catholic Spirituality" in New Catholic World, July/August, 1982, p. 154. 22See Richard Huntington and Peter Metcalf, Celebrations~of Death: The Anthropology of " Mortuary Ritual (N.Y.: Cambridge University Press, 1979), pp. 184-211. 2~See Marvin Harris, America Now: The Anthropology of a Changing Culture (N.Y.: Simon and Schuster, 1981) p. 28ff. 24 The Cultural Contradictions~ 8f Capitalism (N.Y.: Basic Books, !976), p. 122. 2~ Perfectae Caritatis, no. 3. 26 The Resilient Church: The Necessity and Limit~ of Adaptation, (N.Y.: DoubledaY, 1981), p., I i. 27Cited by Qeorge A. k.elly, The~Battlefor the American Church (N.~.: Doubleday, 1981), p. 8. ~s',Passages, Margins and Povert~,~',Religious. Symbols~and Co~nmunitas" in Worship, Vol. 46, 197Z. p. 390f. , . ~ ~ 29See Natural Symbols: Explorations in Cosmology (N:Y.:. Pantheot~ Books, 1970), passim. ~°The Tyranny of Surviva~l (N.Y.: Macmillan, 1973), p. 23. 3~ The Church and Cultures: An Applied Anthropology for the" Religious Worker (Techny: Divine Word, 1970), p. 97. 32The Chosen Peoples (Midd!egreen: St. Paul Publications, 1982), p. 273. 3~lntimacy: Essays in Pastoral Psychology (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1969), pp. 79-105. ~For an introductory overview of such cults see Kenelm Burridge, New .Heaven New Earth (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1969), passim. ~Cargo Cults in the South Pacific," in America, 3 S~ptember 1977, p. 96. 36The Imperial Presidency (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1973), p. vii. ~70p. cit., p. I If. ~The Renewal of American Catholicism (N.Y.: Paulist Press, 1972), p. 208f. 39See predictions by Raymond Fitz and lawrence Cada, ~The Recovery of Religious Life" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 34, 1975/5, p. 706. ~°lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz; Gertrude Foley, Thomas Giardino and Carol Lichtenberg, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious L~fe (N.Y.: The Seabury Press, 1979), p. 38. 4~ L. Evenett, The Spirit of the Counter-Reformation (cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), p. 4If. ~2 Following Christ in a Consumer Society: The Spirituality of Cultural Resistance (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1982), p. 136. 43Concernfor the Church, trans. E. Quinn (N~Y.: Crossroads, 1981), p. 145. **Cited by Kenneth A. Briggs, ~Pope Orders Study'of Drop in ReligiOus Orders in U.S." in The New York 7~mes, 24 June 1983,.p. All. Sentire cum Ecclesia I"incent T. O'Keefe, S.J. Father O'Keefe has been General Assistant and General Counselor in the governance of the Society of Jesus with special charge for the fields of education and social communication; he has also been Director of the Office of Public Relations. . This artic~e ~rigina~y appeared in C~S~ the quarter~y pub~icati~n ~f the Centrum ~gnatianum Spiritualitatis, located in the order's genemlate in Rome. Re ders are familiar with that: element in the 'ch~rism of St. Ignatius which has become~known in a kind of'spiritual shorthand as sentire cum Ecclesia from the "Rtiles for Thinking with the Church" placed by St. Ignatius as an appendix ,at the end of his Spiritual Exercises. After a series of conferences in Rome by Jesuit specialists in May of" 1979, the Ignatian Center of Spirituality published them :in a:booklet.~ This provides an excellent treatment of the different aspec(s of sentire curn Ecclesia and a good bibliogr~aphy? The purpose of this paper is quite different. It is to consider this important part of Jesuit life and spirituality as presented by Pope John Paul II as one of his tirincipal concerns and desires and expectations with regard to the Society of Jesus today. It is'clear that we must 10ok to the past in orde~ tO understand the background of John Paul lI's presentation, but the main thrust is just as clearly in terms of the present and future apostolic work of the Society. Background: Recent History I. John Paul H to Jesuit Provincials: February 27, 1982 From February 23 to March 3, 1982 the Jesuit provincials from around the world met with Father Paolo Dezza, S.J., Delegate of the Holy Father, and Father Giuseppe Pittau, S.J., Coadjutor of~Father Dezza, in order to respond to the concerns, desires and expectations of the Holy Father. In his well-known address to the group on February 27, John Paul II spoke of these 831 1132 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 matters and laid specia! emphasis on sentire cum Ecclesia. His intention was to indicate how the Society coiald best serve the Church today, and how this was to be done in accord with the charism of St. Ignatius and with the tradition of the Society down through the four and a half centuries of its history. The words of the pope are at once a call, an appeal, and a challenge to the whole body of the Society to help the Roman Pontiff and the Apostolic College to serve the People of God, and to do this by living to the full one of the centerpieces of Ignatian spirituality, sentire cum Ecclesia, by being of one mind and heart with the Church. In his address John Paul II refers to the meeting of the provincials which was then at the midway point: "In such a climate of serene ffelcoming of God's will, you are reflecting in meditation and prayer during these days on the best way to respond to the expectations of the pope and of the Pe#ople of God in a period of polarizations and contradictions which mark contemporary society. The object of your reflections, inspired by Ignatian "discernment," are the fundamental problems of the ide~ntity and of the ecclesial ~f.unction of the Society . " And the first such important element noted by the pope'is the sentire cum Ecclesia. The Holy Father situates his remarks within an historical context: ". :. it'is opportune to reflect on your order's past in order to grasp the fundamental marks of this process [the implementation of the Council of Trent] and the richest and most positive aspects of the way in which the Society contributed to it. They will be like guiding lights or beacons to indicate what the Society of today, impelled by the dynamism typical of its Founder's charism, but genuinely faithful to it, can and must do to foster what the Spirit of God has brought about in the Church through the Second Vatican Council. The Society of Jesus, ever imbued with the spiri~ of true renewal, will I~e ready .to play its, part ,fully today as in the past and always: to be able to help the pope and the Apostolic College to advance the whole Church along the great road marked out by the Council . " This help that John Paul II asks of thE'Society in the Ignatian spirit of sentire cum Ecclesia is to assist "in a notable way the Roman Pontiffs in the exercise of their supreme magisterium . The Roman Pontiff to whom you are linked by ~i special vow is, in the words of the Second Vatican Counc.il, 'the Supreme Pastor of the Church' (Christus Dominus, 5). As such he has a particular ministry of service to exercise for the good of the universal Church, and in which he willingly accepts your loving, devoted and time, tested collaboration." John Paul II calls on the Soc!ety to aid him in his service to the whole Church, in helping the People of God to understand and implement the Second Vatican Council,, and to do this particularly bY traditional Jesuit loyalty to the magisterium in doctrine and practice. There are reminders to avoid defects of the past, but this is in order to render the Society's service to the pope and to the Church as effective as possible. Sentire cum Ecclesia 2. In Continuity with Paul VI In issuing this call, the Holy Father indicates clearly that he is following his predecessors, Paul VI and John Paul I: As m~, venerated predecessor, Pope Paul VI, already told you, the Church today wants the Society to implement effectively the Second Vatican Council, as, in the time of St. Ignatius and afterwards, it spared no effort to make known and apply the Council of Trent, assisting in a notable waythe Roman Pontiffs in the exercise of their supreme magisterium . Together with solidity of virtue, your Constitutions insist on a solidity and sourdfiess of doctrine, su~:h as is essential for an efficacious apostolate. Conse-quently, "The Jesuits were universally considered to be a support for the doctrine and discipline of the whole Church. Bishops, priests and lay people used to look upon the Society as an authentic nourishment for the interior life" (Letter of Cardinal Villot to Father General, 2 July 1973). The same should remain true in the future by means, of that loyal fidelity to the magisterium of the Church, and in particular of the Roman Pontiff, to which you are in duty bound. After the letter mentioned above by John Paul 1I, which Cardinal Villot had sentln the name of Paul VI, the latter pope wrote to Father Grneral on September 15, 1973 with regard to General Congregation XXXII which had just been cbnvoked for Decembei" 1974. Paul VI referred in a very special manner to "the fidelity ~o the Holy See, whether in the area of stodies and education of young scholastics, who are the hope of your order, oor of the students attending the great number of schools and universities entrusted to the Society, or in the production and pu~blication of writing,,s aimed at a wide circle of readers, or in the exercise of tl'ie direct'apostolate. 3 A year later on Deceml~er 3, 1974, Paul Vi addressed the members of i3eneral Congregation XXXII and continued.along the line of thought of his letter of September 15, 1973. He specified the works of the Society where the spirit of sentire cum Ecclesia has been evident: ¯. we see displayed all the wonderful richness and adaptability which has characterized the Society during the centuries as.~the Society of those "sent~ by the Church. Hence tl~re have come theological research and teaching, h,ence the apostolate of preaching, of spiritual assistance, of publications and writings, of the direction of groups, and of formation by means of the Word of God and the Sacrament of Reconciliation, in accordance with the special and characteristic duty, committed to you by your holy Founder. Hence there have come the social apostolate and intellectual and cultural activity which extend from schools for the solid and complete education of youth all the wa~, to the levels of advanced university studies and ~cholarly research . Then in a s~ries of questions which Paul VI says that Jesuits themselves are asking "as a conscientious verification and as a reassuring confirmation," the Holy Father asks: "What is the state of Catholic faith and moral teaching as set forth by the ecclesiastical magisterium?TM Paul VI spoke in a similar way in his letter of February I5, 1975 to Father General,5 and, in an audience granted to him during General Congregation XXXII on February 20, 1975, the Holy Father expressed his fear lest the ¯ General Congregation "give insufficient care to correcting certain lamentable deviations in doctrinal and disciplinary matters which had in recent years often ~834 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 been manifested with respect to the mag]sterium and hierarchy.TM On March 7, 1975, the last.day of the Congregation, Paul VI received Father General and the General Assistants. In a brief address the Holy Father noted: We were not a little pleased by the fact that the members of the General Congregation favorably understood the force and meaning of our recommendations and showed that the~, received them with a willingnes~s to carry them out . We exhort all the companions" of Ignatius to continue with renewed zeal to carry out all the works and ~ endeavors upon which they have so eagerly embarked in the service of the' Church . You should be aware of the fact that not only the eyes of c.ontemporary men in general but also and especially those of so many members of other religious orders and congre-gations and even those of the universal Church are turned upon you . 7 General Congregation XXXII replied to the concerns and expectations of Paul VI particularly in its first and third decrees. In the first .decree, the "Introductory Decree," the Society humbly acknowledged the failings pointed out by the Holy Fatlier, and sought, with God's grhce, a more radical renewal and closer unity with the Holy Father.8 Even more specifically, the third decree treated "Fidelity of the Society to the Magisterium and the Supreme Pontiff." It stressed the Society's obligati6n of reverence and loyalty, and its responsibil-ity towards the Church. While reaffirming the Society's long tradition of service fO the Church in the explanation, propagation and defense of the faith, it deplo'red the shortcomings in this matter in recent years, and recommended to Society superiors a fatherly but firm vigilance so that cases might be avoided or corrected which tarnish the Socieiy',s fidelity to the magisterium and to the service of the faith and of the Church.9 " The reaction of Paul VI was expressed in a letter of Cardinal Villot-to Father General on May 2, 1975: "It is mos( opportune that the GenEral Congregation has confirmed the traditional fidelity of the Society to the magis-terium and the Holy Father: HoweVer, the expression [in the text of decree 3], 'Freedom Should be intelligently encouraged,' should not be allowed to pro-vide gro~nds for disregarding thb rules for 'Thinking with the Church,' which are proper to the Society."~0 3. The Address Prepared by John Paul 1 During"his all too brief pontificate, Pope John Paul I had pre.pared an address which he intended~to give to (he members of the Society's Con-gregation of Procurators on September.30, 1978. When the Holy Father's sudden death prevented him from giving the address, Father'General appealed to the Vatican Secretariate of State for a copy of it. This was accomplished through the good offices of Cardinal Villot who menti6ned in his accompany-ing letter that John Paul 11 subscribed to and made his own~what John Paul I had written.~ 1 In his address, John Paul I proposed some points for the consideration of thememb~rs of the Congregation of Procurators. Not only does senti~'e cure E~clesia have a central part here, but John Paul I provides a clear and full Sentire cum Ecclesia : report of what activities and what attitudes it refers to: In your apostolic labors you should always keep in view the proper end of'the Society "founded chiefly ,for the defense and propagation of the faith and for the progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine" (Formula of the Institute) . For this evangelizing action, St. Ignatius demands of his sons a solid doctrine acquired through a prolonged and careful preparation. It has been a characteristic of the Society to be careful to present in preaching and spiritual direciion, teaching ~nd publication of books and reviews, a solid and sound doctrine, fully conformed to the teaching of the Church; because of this the monogram of:the Society was for the Christian people a guarantee [of solid doctrine] and won for you the special trust of the episcopate. Strive to maintain intact this praiseworthy characteristic; let it not happen that the teachings and p~blica-tio~ is of Jesuits contain anything to cause confusion and disorientation among the faithful; ever keep in mind that the mission entrusted to you by the Vicar of Christ is to announce--in a way adapted to the mentality of today, certainly, but in its integrity and .purity--the Christian message contained in th, e deposit of revelation, of which the authentic interpreter is the magisterium of the Church. This na!urally implies that in the institutes and faculties where young Jeslzits are formed,'sure and solid doctrine is taught in conformity with the directives ~:ontained in the conciliar decrees and in the successive documents of the Holy See concerning:'~t.he, doctrinal formation of those aspiring for priesthood~ And this is all the more necessary since your institutes are open to numer-ous seminarists, religious, and lay persons wh6 frequent them precisely for the sure and~' solid doctrine that they expect to receive there . Be therefore faithful to the wise norms contained in your Institute: and be at the same time faithful to the prescriptions of the Church concerning religious life, priestly ministry, liturgical celebrations, giving an example of that loving docility to "our Holy Mother the hierarchical Church"---as St. Ignatius recalls in the "Ruleg for Thinking witff the Church"--because she is the "true spouse of Christ our Lord" (see Spiritual Exercises, n. 353). This attitude of St. Ignatius towards the Church should be typical also of his sons.~2 " 4. John Paul H to Presidents of Jesuit Conferences (September 1979) and Father" General's Follow-up A year later, John Paul II addressed Father General and the Presidents of, the Conferences of Provincials on September 21,197,9. The Holy Father noted that he did not have e~nough time to consider sufficiently either the good initiatives t6 be developed or the deficiencies to be remedied, and stated: I shall limit myself to recalling some recommendations offered from the heart by my immediate predecessors, Paul VI and John Paul I, out of the great love they bore.th'e Society. Their recommendations 1 make completely my own . Be faithful to the'rules of your Institute, as requested b.y Paul Vi and mpre recently byoJohn Paul I in the allocution prepared for your Congregation of Procurators shortly before his death. They both stressed . sound doctrine in complete fidelity to the supreme magisterium of the Church and the Roman Pontiff so fervently desired by St. Ignatius, as everyone knows . In addition to the great good accomplished by many Jesuits through the example of their lives, their apostolic zeal, and unconditioned fidelity to the Roman Pontiff, John Paul I1 noted "that the crisis which in recent times has troubled religious life and is still troubling it, has not spared your Society, causing confusion among the Christian people and concern tO the Church, to 8~16 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 the hierarchy and also personally to the Pope who is speaking with you."~3 The Presidents of the Conferences of Provincials had been meeting in Rome for their fourth Consultation with Father General (September 17-21), and the theme of their meeting was° the Society,'s service to the Church. The basis of discussion was a series of recent documents including.the "Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church" {a joint document of the Congregation for Religious and the Congregation for Bishops), and, with special attention, the address of John Paul 1 referred to above. ~4 On October 19: 1979. Father General wrote to all major superiors.of the Society witliregard"to the address of John' Paul It on Septe, mber 21, 197'9", and stated that it "calls for a profound and serious reflection by us as superiors who hold the chief responsibility for the government of the Society.''15 With regard to the shortcomings mentioned by the Pope. Father General notes that: they" are practically the same deficiencies widish had already been pointed out to us by Paul VI and John Paul 1. and which we have (ecognized sincerely and have been trying to correct. But without doubt, we have not coped with the problem to th~ degree and with the effectiveness expected of us. This s~tuation focuses the desirers of the Holy Father on a matter that pertains mainly to us who bear responsibility for the govern-ment of the Society and to our way of governing. Accordingly. now is the momen! to ask ourselves seriously how we can bring a greater effectiveness to lhe government of the Society and to the execution of whal the last General Congregations have laid down with regard to the very points mentioned~ by the Holy Father)6 Practical steps were then decreed by Father General. "You, the Major Superiors with your consultors, in special n~eetings for this purpose, should examine the state of the province, of its ~embers, communities and works in the light of the points already mentioned, and should take any decisions needled in order to meet the expectations of the Holy Father . At the conclu- ~sion bf these c6nsultations, 1 want you to write to me individually at the b~gin-ning of 1980, dealing with these items that have been the subject of special discussion and of the decisions taken on them . Your counsultors also in their official annual letters should deal specifically with this material . Similar measures were set down for local superiors, their co~nsultors and communities, and for directors of apostolic works. Each local superior was to ensure "that each member of the community examines himself about his personal attit6des, words and actions in the light of the desires expressed by the Holy Father. We'must ~iot ~llow ourselves to interpret his words in such a qualified way as would fail to make us look into ourselves and bring about the changers he wants. No one can evade his own personal responsibility with the pretext that his allocution is~'for su~pefiors.'''1~ 5. The Societ~y's Prepration for a Future GC(" Father Dezza's Letter (March 25, 1982) In the correspondence and discussions with Fat~her General that began in 1980 with regard to a future General Congregation, John Paul It stressed the Sentire cum Ecclesia need for a deeper preparation of the Society for this General Congregation. After the tragic attempt on the Pope's life and after the stroke suffered by Father Arrupe, the Holy Father continued these discussions with Father l)ezza, his personal Delegate for the Society. It was in the light of this histori-cal background that John Paul I1 addressed the provincials on February 27, 1982, and spoke of fidelity to the magisterium of the Church as the focal point of the ecclesial function of the Society. In this address he has the time and the occasion for setting forth the initiatives to be developed to meet the needs of the Church and the world, something he:did not have enough time to accom-plish in his address of September 21, 1979. This same background also helps to understand why Father Dezza took up sentire cure Ecclesia as the first major point to be discussed with the provincials during their meeting from February 23 to March 3, 1982. After the meeting~ he wrote to the whole Society on March 25, 1982 in order to share with all Jesuits as he had done Witfi the provincials the concerns,~desires and expectations 6f the Holy Father. In treating sentire cum Ecclesia, there is a concentration in the letter on fidelity to the magisterium in doctrine and practice. After recalling the previous statements of John Paul 11 and his pi~ede-cessors, Paul VI and John Paul 1, which have been noted above, and after pertinent references to the Constitutions and to General Congregations, Father Dezza sets out some normS for the fidelity of Jbsuits, first to the magisterium, and then to the laws of the Church. With regard to the magisteriUm, when it is question of the infallible magis-terium, the necessity of assent on the part of all Catholics is clear. The way in which the truth is presented may Vary according to different times and cul-tures, but the truth itself may not be altered. In the words of Vatican I1: "Furthermore, theologians are now being asked, within the methods a.nd limits ~ofthe science of theology, to seek out more efficient ways--providing the meaning and understanding of them is safeguarded--of presenting their teach-ing to modern man: for the d~posit and~the truths of faith are one thing, the manner of expressing them is quite another.''19 ' When it is question of the a~uthentic but non-infallible magisterium, Vati-can II once again sets out theguiding principles: B~i~shops, teaching in communion with the Roman Pontiff, are to be respected bY all i~s witnesses to divine and Catholic truth. In matters of faith and morals, the bishops speak in the name of Christ and the faithful are to accept and adhere to it with a religious assent of soul. This religious submission of will and of mind must be shown in a special way to the authentic teaching authority of the Roman Pontiff, even when he is not speaking ex Cathedra. That is, it must be shown in such a way that his supreme magisterium is acknowledged with reverence, the judgments made by him are sincerely adhered to, according to his manifest mind and will. His mind and will in thi: matter may be known chiefly either from the character of the documents, from his frequent repetition of the same doctrine, or from his manner of speaking.~° From this Father Dezza enunciates the operative principle: "Therefore when there is question of a doctrine clearly and repeatedly taught in solemn I1~111 / Review for Religious; Nov.-Dec., 1983 documents such as encyclicals, it is the, duty of ministers of the Church, in teaching and preaching, to communicate the doctrine authentically taught to the faithful and help them to live it, with trust in the assistance of the Holy Spirit promised to the Church and to its visible head, the Roman Pontiff, in his universal ministry of guiding men to eternal salvation." When it is question of the teaching given in our Centers of Studies, it should, says the letter,. be in conformity with the magisterium (see Sapibntia Christiana, Introd., III and Art. 39 and 70) so that our scholastics may acquire, especially in the basic institutional courses, a clear, solid and organic understanding of Catholic teaching. They should be ~taught conscientiously to distinguish in the different doctrines taught betwe.en affirma-tions "that must be held, those, which are left to free discussion and those which cannot be accepted. In the matter of public~ations, the norm isstied by Father General on February 16, 1~76, in his "Ordinatio" on publisfiing works must not be forgot-ten: "that it is fully conformed t0~teaching on faith and morals, as it is pro- ~posed by the ecclesiastical magisterium,~.taking account of the freedom of investigation in relation 30 writings or reviews whose matter, by ~ts very nature, is destined only for experts.TM In addition =to fidelity in doctrine, Father Dezza notes that Jesuits are obliged to fidelity to the Church in matters of discipline and specifically~ the liturgical norms. Once again, the principle is set down in Vatican II: "Regulation of the sacred liturgy depends solely on the authority of the Church [the Holy See, Bishops' Conferences, the Bishops]. Therefore absolutely no other persons, not even a .priest, may add, remove, or change anything in the liturgy on his own authority."22 It may be said, therefore, in summary fashion that the main concern and expectation of the Holy Father in this matter is that the Society, in its teaching and preaching, its counseling and writings, and its actions .show and guarantee sureness of doctrine and fidelity to the magisterium. John Paul 1I, like his predecessors, Paul Vl and John Paul I, emphasizes the influence exerted by the Society on the whole Church, and stresses the increased sense of responsi-bility this calls for'on the part of~all Jesuits. There are attitudes and actions to avoid, but in a positive sen~,se there is a call to the Society, and there is the expectation that it will exert its best efforts in helping the Holy Father and the Apostolic Coll.ege to se~:ve the whole Church. Reflections in the Light of Ignatian Spirituality 1. ~he~ Thrust of the lgnatian Sefitire cum Ecclesia It is clear that what the Holy Father is asking of the Society requires no new laws or rules or extraordinary procedures. As Father Dezza indicates in his letter,~it is in accord with our Institute and tradition, and the reminders addressed to the Society by the pope are to be understood in the context of the Sentire cum Ecclesia whole of the Society's Institute, spirituality and mission. These latter points are not developed at any length in the letter since its finality followed that of the meeting of the provincials: to expla.in the concerns and desires and expecta-tions of John Paul II. At the very heart and center of the charism of St. Ignatius are the words of °the Formula of the Institute: "To serve the Lord alone and the Church, his spouse, under the Roman Pontiff, the vicar of Christ on earth . "Thus the life and activity of the Society is centered in service to the Church. As a priestly order committed to the defense and propagation of the faith under obedience to the Holy Father, the Society not only shares in the ministry of.the Church, but also has a special responsibility for servi~:e to the Church in her apostolic task of preserving and confirming the communion of faith in the Church. This fiaeans, that, individually and corporately, Jesuits are to develop within them-selves and communicate to those they serve attitudes which will strengthen, unify and energize the Church in its function as an instrument of the kingdom of God~in the world. They should also eliminate attitudes and actions which can weaken, fragment and paralyze the Church.23 These were the concerns of St. Ignatius when he wrote the "Rules for Thinking with the Church." As we: know, these "Rules~' are placed as an appendix at the end of the SpiritualExercises, which helps us to situate them in their proper context. They are not meant for anyone at all. They are intended for those who have been formed and nurtured by the Exercises, who are moved by a strong, personal love for Christ, and are dedicated to the est~iblishment of his ~kingdo~ in r.e, sponse to his call.24 The origin of the Society is'to be found in the ~experienre. of St. Ignatius and his companions of the Spiritual.Exercises. St. Ignatius "founded the Society as an organization which would continually, renew itself in the Church through the inner vigor of the Exercises and under the vitalizing impulse of the Spirit."25 "The Spiritual .Exercises, in which as Jesuits we especially experience Christ~and respr'nd to his call, lie at the heart of our Je~su!t vocation."26 In this context, it is easier to understand the first of ¯ the "Rules," which is a fundamental principle: "We ought to keep our minds disposed and ready, with all judgment of our own put aside, to be obedient in everything to the true Spouse of Christ our Lord, which is our Holy Mother the hierarchical Church.":7 The "~Rules" cannot be truly understood or applied except in the framework of, the Spiritual Exercises, For St. Ignatius, sentire cum Ecclesia applies to Jesuits who live the spirit of the Spiritual Exercises. Without, a lived relationship to the living Christ, the right combination of fidelity and renewal implied in sentire cum Ecclesia can scarcely~be achieved. It is clear that ,the Church for St. Ignatius is not the glorified Church, nor some abstract and idealized one that never existed. It is the Church in the concrete, with its deficiencies and weaknesses, the hierarchical, pilgrim Church which stands "ever in need of purification.''28 The best way to achieve this purification is not by ppblic criticism and controversy: A truly filial love of the Church will suggest the most suitable ways. Father Dezza's letter recalls the 1~40 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 telling point made by Father Arrupe: "A model of this way of acting was St. Ignatiu~ himself. Few have toiled with such effectiveness for Catholic reform 'in head and members'; and yet one would seek in vain in his voluminous. correspondence for a word of criticism of his superiors."29 St. Ignatius did not assume the role of judge or accuser, but looked rather to an internal renewal in his conviction that the Church had within herself the means and capacity to'- renew herself.3° .,. Sentire cum Ecclesia is not to be identified with something that is occa-sional, something called into play on the occasion of a,Church teaching, pronouncement or declaration.~.lt~ is rather an interior disposition and attitude of love of the Church, an habitual outlook, a framework of reference, which inspires a way of thinking; feeling and acting. The objective of sentire cum Ecclesia goes beyond a careful attention to orthodoxy and looks to union and unity in faith and communign. It is to oppose disintegrating forces in the Church and reinforce trends that build community. Only the person who looks on the Church with love as his Mother and the' Spouse of Christ can grasp and interiorize the spirit of sentire cure Ecclesia. It involves a faith attitude, and as already noted, has its roots in a personal relationship with Christ which has grown during the Spiritual Exercises. Our attitude towards the Church follow~ from our attitude toward the person of Jesus Christ. In his letter Father Dezza states: "It is therefore important to promote ever more in Ours that attitude towards the magisterium that is characteristic of~a Jesuit who, moved by the spirit of faith, is therefore favorable and sympathetic, and is led to consider the offici~,l documents of the magisterium fully and objecti,~ely

Issue 15.6 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; Review for Religious ~OVEMBER 15, 1956 Cloister of Congregations . Joseph F. Gallen Zeal for Souls ¯ " c.A. Herbst Sisters' RefreafsIVI . Thomas Dubay The Religious Life . Roman Congregations Book Reviews New Business Address index for 1956 VOLUME XV " No. (5 Ri::VI.I::W FOR RI::::LIGIOUS VOLUME XV NOVEMBER, 19 5 6 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS NEW BUSINESS ADDRESS . 281 CLOISTER OF CONGREGATIONS-~Joseph F. Gallen, 'S.,J 2.8.2. ZEAL FOR SOULS--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 295 SISTERS' RETREATS---VI --- Thomas Dubay, S.M: .3.0.1. GUIDANCE FOR RELIGIOUS . 308 ROMAN CONGREGATIONS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE"0 ". 3.09 B(~OK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.3. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 3~8 INDEX FOR VOLUME XV . 334 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1956. Vol. XV, No. 6. Published bi-monthly: ,January, March, May, ,July, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter, ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under ~he act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.'j., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Publishing rights reserved by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed it. U. S. A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review For Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri Our New Business , clress When we were preparing to publish the REVIEW, we arranged to have the College Press, in Topeka, do the printing and distribut-ing. For fifteen years the editors and the College Press have worked together in the closest harmony. We have literally shared both heart-aches and joys. The heartaches were mostly brought about by the difficulties of the war years: for example, as we published each num-be~ we wondered how we would get enough paper for printing the next. The joys consisted, among other things, in getting the REVIEW out regularly and on time, despite the difficulties, and in the realiza-tion that this new apostolate for religious seemed to be appreciated. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3115 South Grand Boulevard St. Louis 18, Missouri This is our new business address During all these fifteen years, Mr. J. W. Orr, owner of the Col-lege Press, and his assistants, have given the REVIEW the best they had; and that was very good, indeed. But the time has come when we must make new publishing arrangements. The reason for this is purely an "act of God," as far as both the editors and the College Press are concerned. There has been no break in the harmony that has always characterized our collaboration. Fortunately for us, the publishing department of the Queen's Work has agreed to take over the publication of the REVIEW. Be-ginning with the next volume, the RE~rIEW will be printed and dis-tributed by the Queen's Work. Obviously, the new publishers can-~ not wait till the last deadline to begin making addresses and keeping records. For this reason, please note the announcement in the center of this page and follow it exactly. The editors are deeply grateful to the College Press for past col-laboration and to the Queen's Work for taking over the burden. 281 Cloist:er ot: Congrega!:ions ,Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. I. Introduction. All the canons on common cloister apply to all congregations, i. e., institutes of simple vows, whether of men or women, clerical or lay, pontifical or'' diocesan, with the exception of c. 607, which treats of religious women going out of the convent alone. To lessen the complications in this highly detailed matter and to avoid the constant repetition of awkward phrases such as, "those of the opposite sex," the article explains and applies common cloister with reference to congregations of religious women. II. r~tpes of cloister. Papal cloister exists in all orders of men and women. Formerly it existed in the case of women only in mon-asteries of nuns that actually had solemn vows, but this was changed by the apostolic constitution Sponsa Christi.1 Cloister of this type is called papal because it is prescribed by papal ,(canon) law and its violation is punished by papal penalties, i. e., penalties enacted in the Code of Canon Law. Common or episcopal cloister is that imposed by canon law on all religious congregations (institutes of simple vows) of men and women. The name common is due to the fact that this cloister is less strict than papal, especially the papal cloister of nuns. This type of cloister was termed episcopal before .the Code of Canon Law. The same expression is still used, aIthough less frequently, because in the law of the code the local ordinary ex-ercises supervision over the exact observance of common cloister and may enforce its observance with canonical penalties (c. 604, § 3). Statutor~t or disciplinary is cloister insofar as it is prescribed by ¯ the particular Rule and constitutions; active, insofar as it forbids leaving the house; passive, insofar as it forbids the entrance of ex-terns into the cloistered parts; material, the cloistered parts of the house; formal, the laws of the code by which the going out of the religious or the entrance of externs is forbidden and regulated. III. Definition, purpose, obligation. The meaning, of common cloister is that the religious do not leave the house without the per~ mission of the superior according to the constitutions nor regularly receive any person of the other sex in the part of the house reserved for the community. The primary purpose of cloister is the preser-vation of the virtue of chastity. Under this aspect cloister frees the 1. Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, III, 221-52. 282 CLOISTER OF CONGREGATIONS' religious from many temptations, protects the good name of the institute and of the religious state, and prevents scandals, suspicion, and harmful gossip even among the inquisitorial and hostile. Cloister is also an element of the external or canonical contemplative life. Its purpose under this heading is to develop and intensify a truly prayerful, interior, and spiritual 1ire'by withdrawing the religious from an atmosphere of worldliness and distraction and surround-ing her with one of tranquillity, peace and recollection. Cloister is likewise a habitual exercise of mortification and penance, an aid to the preservation of religious discipline in general, and of conspicuous practical utility for persevering study and labor. The mere statement of these aims reveals the value of a cloister that is intelligently en-acted and faithfully observed both in external action and interior purpose. It must be admitted, however, that the modern apostolate demands that at least very many sisters go out of the cloister more frequently and remain out of it for much longer periods daily than in the past. This age, therefore, requires a rigorously cloistered heart rather than a mere cloistered convent, a soul immutably turned to God in love rather than a mere veiled face, sincere detachment rather than mere walls and locked doors, a true interior life rather than mere external protection, and the double barrier of habitual prayer and mortification rather than the double grille. It is an aged canonical maxim that as the fish is lifeless without water so the monk with-out his monastery. I am of the opinion that we must modernize this venerable figure and demand of the religious an amphibious spiritual life. Common cloister is obligatory from c. 604, § 1, on all congre-gations. The constitutions of some institutes of simple vows give the impression either of error or inaccuracy in stating that cloister is not of obligation. It is true that papal cloister is not of obligation for congregations and that it is stricter than common cloister, but the latter is obligatory on all congregations. Both papal and com-mon cloister exist only in canonically erected formal and non-formal religious houses.2 Cloister does not demand that the institute be the proprietor of the house. Neither papal nor common cloister exists in canonically filial houses, summer villas and vacation houses, houses that are not completely erected materially, a house in which the community is not yet residing, nor in a temporary residence, e. g., a house rented and used while the religious house is being renovated. 2. Cf. cc. 597, § 1; 604, § 1; Berutti, De Religiosis, 268; Vromant, De Personis, n. 429. 283 JOSEPH F. ~ALLEN Review for Religious Cloister begins as soon as the community has taken up residence in a canonically erected house, but the precise moment is determined by the higher superior when such residence is begun, gradually. From custom or the enactments of the general chapter or higher superiors, the regulations of common cloister will and should be observed also in filial houses, temporary residences, and even more strictly in vaca-tion houses. IV. Cloistered parts of the house. The parts of the house des-tined for the exclusive use of the religious are those that are to be placed within common cloister. In constitutions approved by the Holy See, these ordinarily are the cells or dormitories, the infirmary, and the refectory. The community room, kitchen, and pantry are sometimes placed within cloister. The cloistered parts of the house are usually determined in the constitutions of sisters. Added deter-minations, the settlement of doubtful cases, the determination of the parts to be cloistered when these are not designated in the con-stitutions, from analogy with c. 597, § 3, appertain to. higher su-periors and the general chapter. The same authorities have the right of changing the boundaries of cloister permanently, except those determined in the constitutions, and may change also these tempor-arily. A proportionate reason is required for either change. V. Doors and locks of cloister. The constitutions of some con-gregations of sisters contain the enactment that the convent doors are to be locked at night and the keys given to the superior. This en-actment undoubtedly has its origin in the norm for the papal cloister of nuns: "The keys of the cloister shall be in the hands of the su-perioress night and day; and she shall give them to certain desig-nated nuns when there is need.''3 Frequently enough the constitu-tions of nuns add to this norm by prescribing that the cloister doors are to have two distinct locks, and these may also be supplemented by bolts and bars. Some orders also command that at night the keys of the two distinct locks are to be put into a box, which it-self is secured by two distinct locks. The keys of the" latter are to be given to two nuns, so that the presence of both is required to open the box. The minimum requisite of such enactments is exit doors that can be opened from the inside only by a key. I believe that a com-petent and conscientious American fire inspector would be apt to object to such exit doors. Building and fire prevention codes and practices in the United States appertain especially to local civil or- 3. Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, 319. 284 November, 1956 CLOISTER OF CONGREGATIONS dinance and authority, and it would be prudent to consult these in the present question. The National Fire Protection Ass6ciation states that its standards ". are widely used by law enforcing authOrities in addition to their general use as gu!des to fire safety.TM In its pamphl~t, Building Exits Code, this association states: "All doors used in connection with exits shall be so arranged as to be always readily opened from the side from which egress is made. Locks, if provided, shall not require a key to operate from the inside~ Latches or other releasing device~ to 6pen doors shall .be of simple types, the method of operation of which is obvious even in darkness.''6 This standard is not specifically hplSlied to such residences as convents or religious houses in general, but it is extended to very similar resi-dences, e. g., apartment houses, which are defined as ". residence buildings providin~ sleeping accommodations for 20 or more per-sons, such as cbnventiorial apartments, tenement houses, lodging houses, dormitories, multi-family, houses, etc.''6 VI. Admission only of the male sex forbidden (c. 604, § 1). By the code, only the entrance of those of the'opposite sex into the cloistered parts is forbidden. Insofar as the entrance of the same sex-is prohibited in any congregation, the obligation is merely of the constitutions. Both the purpose of cloister and ordinary charity demand that even the same sex should not be admitted in a way that would unreasonably disturb the work, recollection, and. espe-cially the privacy of the religious. VII. Exemptions from the prohibition of entrance (cc. 604, § 1; 600; 598, § 2). Can. 604, § 1, extends to common cloister the exemptions given for papal cloister in cc. 600 and 598, § 2, Since these exemptions were enacted for papal cloister, they are not. inl~er~ preted entirely in the same sense when applied to common cloister. Those exempted by cc. 600 and 598, § 2 are: 1. The local ordinary or his delegate for the canonical oisitation. It is sufficient for his examination of the cloister that he be accom-panied by sisters, either two or one, preferably the superior. 2. Priests to administer the sacraments or to assist the dying. For a just and reasonable cause, any man or.boy may be admitted into common.~ loister. The administration of any sacrament and the assistance of .the .dying are evidently just causes, and therefore any priest, may be. admitted into common .cloister for these reasons. "4. Building Exits ~6~ (Boston: National Fire'Protection Association, 12th ed., 1952, reprinted 1955), back of front cover. ." "- ¯ ~ 5. Ibid., n~ 50'3 .r.," ~.:", " : . . ; ~'~ ~, ~ '~ , 6. Ibid., nn. 2800, 2812. 28.5 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious 3. Those who hold the supreme power in the state, with their wines and retinue, and cardinalL with their retinue. This exemption isnot too prattical, and. for that reas6n is omitted in many constitu-tionsi While actually in power, even if not Catholics, kings, em-perors, presidents.of republics, the governors of our states with their wives and retinue, and cardinals with their retinu~ may enter the cloister in ahy country, even outside their own country or state. This exerription does not apply to those Who have been elected to but have not a~ yet entered on the office of supreme power, nor to persons who held supreme power in the past but do not hold it now, nor to cabinet members, senators, and congressmen. The dignity of all of these, however, would be a sufficient reason for their admission into" Common"cloister. A wife in the sense of this canon is one who is commonly held as such,' even though the marriage is invalid, e. g., because of a previous marriage. She and her. retinue may be ad-mi_ tted into the common cloister of men (c. 598, § 2). The same is true of a woman who holds,the supreme power in the state, with her .retinue. The code does .not forbid the entrance of a woman into the common cloister of religious women. 4. The superior may, with proper precautions, admit doctors, surgeons,, and others whose services are neCessar~j. There is evidently a just and teasonable cause fbr the admission of all of these. 5. Others mdy be admitted for a just and reasonable cause in the judgment of the superior, the proper'l~recautions always being ob-served (c. 604, § 1). This legislation is directly on common cloister and gives the general norm for the admission of men and boys iiato the common cloister of women. It is a sufficient norm in itself; and it is very difficult'to.see the .utility of the code's extension of cc. 600 and" 598, § 2, as enumerated above, to common cloister. There is obviously a just and reasonable cause for the admission of all of those listed above from these two canons. The proper precautions may be determined in ~the constitutions. If not,- it "is sufficient thata sister, preferably the local superior or an official, accompany any man admitted to the cloister. This is also true of a priest hdmitted for the confessions of'the sick. It is sometimes specified that the door of 'the room is to be left open while the confession is being heard. This is not always possible because of the smallness bf the room and of the adjoining corridor. No one of the. opposite sex should be .permitted to remain in the cloister longer than is necessary. Men or boys may be admitted into the common clbister of wo- 286 November, CLOISTER Ol~ CONGRI~GATIbNS the house. sister m. ay Permission ticular, or the code. men for a just and reasonable cause, which is less than a serious or grave cause. Therefore, a father, brother, or close male relative may be permitted to enter the infirmary to see a sister who is ill. Greater rea-sons, such as the.preceding and the administration of the sacraments, should be required for admission into a section devoted to the dor-mitories or cells of the sisters than into other parts of the cloister. Lesser reasons are sufficient for the admission of women and girls into the cloister when their entrance is forbidden by~ the constitutions. Particular constitutions may licitly demand more serious reasons than those required by the code for the admission of men and those commonly demanded for the admission of women. All superiors are competent to permit entrance into the cloister. 6. Male professors. According to the modern practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, neither the constitutions nor the custom of the instit.ute is to permit the admission of lay male pro-fessors into the cloister for the instruction of the sisters in letters or arts. When judged really necessary and not opposed b~; the local ordinary, such instructors are to teach in places outside the cloister. The mother general is to determine the precautions .necessary to avoid all danger and suspicion.7 ¯ VIII. Going out of the conoent (c. 606, § 1). Canon law does not forbid sisters to leave the house withotit the permission of su-periors but presupposes that this prohibition is contained in the con-stitutions; and in c. 606, § 1 obliges superiors to take care that the constitutions are exactly, observed with regard to subjects leaving By the law of the constitutions and universal usage, no leave the convent without the permission of the superior. may be explicit, implicit, tacit, reasonably presumed,, par-general. A violation is only of the constitutions, nQt of In the law of common cloister as understood in the code and generally practiced, sisters are permitted to leave the convent for any reasonable cause, e. g., for anything that is necessary, useful, or con-ducive to the special purpose and works of the cgngregation, for medical and dental care, spiritual reasons such as going to con~fession, for shopping, for reasonable recreation such as a walk, for works of charity such as attendance at funerals and the visiting of bereaved families, of sick, sisters, women, and children, and for reasons de-manded .by ordinaiy courtesy and politeness. They should not be permitted to go.out for reasons that are idle, u.nbscomin~,, harmful to the religious spirit, or illicit . 7. Cf. Norraae of 190l, n. 173. JOSEPH F~ GA.iLEN Regigto ttor Religious Law is .a reasonable norm of conduct; and therefore the request to go out, even for such a spiritual purpose as confession, should be reasonable. Furthermore, in granting the right "of approaching an occasional confessor, canon law gives no exemption whatever from religious discipline. It is unreasonable to expect permission to leave ~he convent,, especially if this is frequent or habitual, to go to a con-fessor who lives at a notable distance, when appreciable exigense would be necessary, or when the sister would to any degree have to be ex-cused from her assigned work. ~. There is no doubt that a congregation, may have a stricter com-mon cloister than that demanded by the code and that cloister con-tributes to freedom from temptation, dangers of the world, and'dis-tractions, and tends to foster a real interior life. Cloister, however, should not be obstructive of the special purpose of the institute nor such as to induce an artificial, inconsistent, or formalistic observance. Everything in an institute should be in agreement with and subordin-ated to its purpose. Some congregations were founded in an age that could not conceive a religious woman without papal cloister. Others took papal cloister as a fairly close model for the norms of their own constitutions. In congregations cloister should be capable of:.!unstrained observance within the framework of the purpose, works, and ordinary daily lives of the rellgiou's. The local superior gives permission to leave' the 'conven(, except for the cases that in some institutes are reserved'to higher Superiors by the constitutions or custom. The constitutions frequently forbid Sisters to visit private homes, and especially to eat or drink in them Without special permission. In a few institutes, this permission is r~served to higher superiors. Some constitutions specify that the permission of the local superior is sufficient to visit hoUses of the congregation in the vicinity, but a few demand tpheerm ~ "s s"ton of the fi~'gher superior. Constitutions quite often prescribe that a sister must 15~iVe another sister as companion when going to a do~t0ro~ dentist fo~'treatment.'There is also a frequent piohibition aga.in~t visiting house~ of priests without necessity, permission, and a sister com-p'~ inion~ '-'," ' . ~" It'i~ould be advisable to consider the temper, ing. of" the prohi-l~ itiona~ainst eating and drinking in private homes With"~egard to the occasions when a light lunch or hot or cold dri~{I~ could not b'e ~efused without' appearing discourteous and impolitel There can be 'n(~

Issue 51.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1992. ; fo,r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ContemP0ra~ Living SEPTEMBER-O~OBER 1992 ~ t VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 ,÷ Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: .Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez sJ Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents spiritual growth 646 Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness William G. Thompson SJ explores by means of three personal examples the relationship between being holy and being devel-oped spiritually. 659 Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Robert P. Malohey CM proposes that listening becomes a basic Christian stance for a healthy and practical spirituality. 675 Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth John Wickham SJ mixes traditional language and new approaches to explain the major movements from the discerning and affirmation of the self to ultimate union with the Lord. religious life 691 Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition David F. O'Connor ST reviews the history of how traumatic changes in religious life have preceded new forms of dedication and vitality. 707 Religious Life in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ emphasizes the directions of religious life in Latin America given official support in the Puebla docu-ment. 716 721 A Collaborative Retirement Convent Kathleen Steinkamp RSM details the process by which two reli-gious communities established a residential care facility for their retired members. living spiritually Reinventing the Sabbath Dennis Hamm SJ presents a refreshing review of the meaning of 642 R~view for Religious 733 736 sabbath rest and its importance for the survival of our faith. Priesthood, Listening, and the Music Bishop Paul A. Zipfel instructs Dominican ordinands to reverence the gift of orders they will be receiving. A Diligent Compassion Theresa Mancuso relives both the pain of grief on the occasion of her mother's death and the long process of being reconciled with that loss. 743 754 praying Becoming Contemplative Here or There Marie Beha OSC traces out four strands of monastic contemplative discipline to give outsiders a close look at some fibers that go into a contemplative life. An Imaginative Look at Mary Jeffrey B. Symynkywicz focuses his imagined prayer or his prayer-ful imagination on how he sees Mary fitting into today's world. life directions 762 A Journey of Transformation Together Lorelle E. Elcock OP describes the steps of the process of trans-forming three Dominican congregations of women into a new unity. 770 Celibacy as Possibility Marie McCarthy SP explores a celibacy that is concerned about possibilities for life, for generativity, and for transformation. 644 782 789 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Communicating an Indult of Departure Book Reviews September-October 1992 643 prisms ~hat does a laywoman in Brooklyn have in common with a professor in Central America gunned down for his beliefs, with an auxiliary bishop in St. Louis known for his pastoral-liturgical style, and with a member of a religious community facing the prospect of no new members? In addition to being people who have struggled to live authentic Christian lives, each of these men and women has articles in this issue of Review for Religious. They join their voices with a treasurer of a reli-gious community, with a cloistered contemplative sister, and with spiritual directors, theologians, and administra-tors from Canada, Rome, and the United States to exam-ine a whole spectrum of issues of interest to the contemporary church. These women and men--and, over the years, many others like them--have written about their religious expe-riences in these pages. As they share their personal insights and practical observations about living their faith, our readers around the world benefit from their reflections. Review for Religious has been a valuable resource because of the rich diversity of topics it treats and because of the wide range of perspectives it presents. Have you ever wondered how such articles come to be published? One of the best-kept secrets about this pub-lication is that the editors seldom solicit articles for a par-titular: issue. Over the years a steady flow of unsolicited manuscripts has provided a substantial backlog of articles. The editors simply select, edit, and group the articles. We are constantly amazed at what comes across our desks. Each year the editors consider 250 to 300 articles. From these we select between 90 and 100 for publication. 644 Review for Religious After the editors have chosen the articles they wish to publish, their time is consumed by the process of careful copy editing, proofreading, and preparing the articles for press. The continued vitality of this journal depends on the contri-butions from our readers. Articles that appear in Review are writ-ten, for the most part, by nonprofessional writers--people just like you. That's right. People just like the one who is reading these words at this moment. But this should not come as a surprise. Some two thousand years ago a tax collector and a tent maker did not look on themselves as writers, but today we still draw inspi-ration from the words they penned. Moses and Jeremiah found words worth recording even though one stuttered and the other felt inexperienced. Many of us feel equally inhibited. Few people consider themselves writers. None of the members of the Review staff, if truth be known, prepared themselves for careers in writing or publishing. Yet each of us discovers that, at some point in our lives, we have something to say. We may, how-ever, have difficulties convincing ourselves of that fact. But consider the words found in the Book of Deuteronomy: "The word is very near to you, it is in your mouth and in your heart." The words we discover within our hearts often merit a wider audience. Have you come to a fresh understanding of prayer during a recent retreat or as you talk with other people who pray? Review for Religious would like to invite you to share your experiences and insights. Has the community or parish you live in developed a program or a new method of interacting that others could profit from hearing about? Review could make that possible. If some-thing strikes you as original or valuable, chances are someone else will benefit from hearing that idea. May we invite you to consider becoming a writer? Should you feel that you have the materials for an article that meets the mission statement printed on the back cover of this issue, con-sider putting it on paper. Review will be delighted to send you a set of writers' guidelines. These guidelines clearly describe how to prepare and submit an article for publication in this journal. Review and its many readers want to hear your ideas. And we will be grateful to you for the courage and hard work you will invest in expressing them. Michael Harter SJ September-October 1992 645 WILLIAM G. THOMPSON spiritual growth Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness For several years I have been articulating for myself and my classes a working model of the inner world represented by the terms spirituality, spiritual development, and holi-ness. In this article I offer some insights I have had as I wondered about how these terms are related. How is spir-ituality related to the human sciences, especially devel-opmental psychology? Is spiritual development the same as what psychologists call human development? How is holiness related to psychological wholeness? I will begin with three examples, move to a more technical exploration of the terms, and return to reflect on the examples in the light of that exploration. Rachel, an adolescent with cerebral palsy, is so severely delayed in her human development that she cannot attend the regular religious-education classes or the liturgies in her parish. Every two weeks she gathers with five other similarly retarded adolescents and six adult sponsors for sessions in special religious education, symbolic catech-esis for the mentally retarded. Joan, who has been her sponsor and friend in this gathering for five years, is con-vinced that despite her developmental retardation Rachel is a very holy young woman. William G. Thompson sJ specializes in the New Testament for adult spirituality and pastoral ministry. He has a doctorate in Scripture from the Pontifical Biblical Institute and serves as asso-ciate professor in Loyola University's Institute of Pastoral Studies, Chicago. His most recent book is Matthew's Story: Good News for Uncertain Times (Paulist, 1989). His address is Ignatius House; 1331 W. Albion Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60626. 646 Review for Religious Katie Klein was born in Germany but came to the United States at the end of World War I. When I was a child, she came to our home two days a week to do laundry and clean our house, as she did for two other families. I came to know and love Katie. She lived a simple, structured, apparently rigid and unimaginative, but also very meaningful life. She went to Mass every morning before work, and she spent at least an hour after work reciting traditional prayers at home. I believe that Katie was a very holy woman even though she seemed never to outgrow the simple piety that had given meaning to her younger years. Before her death in 1950, no personal crisis or public event occurred to chal-lenge her way of living a life that appeared to be pleasing to God. During Vatican Council II, I was pursuing doctoral studies at the Biblical Institute in Rome. Day by day I interiorized the drama of the council as I received reports about its progress from a fellow Jesuit who attended the sessions. I soon sensed that the vision of the church in the modern world that was being shaped in the council's debates was tearing down the world of meaning I had put together for myself over the fifteen years of my Jesuit formation and education. I somehow knew that a long and subtle search for a new world of meaning was beginning. Had the Vatican Council not called us Roman Catholics to let our paradigms shift and leap to a different horizon of meaning, I might still be wear-ing the traditional Jesuit cassock and living the style of priest-hood for which I was so well trained. Spirituality Before Vatican II, spirituality as it refers to lived experience was an almost exclusively Roman Catholic term. But it has taken on a much broader meaning with the council's invitation to a new awareness of, dialogue with, and appreciation of other Christian denominations and of non-Christian religions. In recent years we have been speaking of spirituality as found in various Protestant traditions and in the various traditions of Judaism, as well as in Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism. Vatican II also called us to a new dialogue with the human sciences, especially with the fields of psychology, sociology, and anthropology, in which spirituality refers to the human spirit apart from religion. Some even speak about the spirituality of antireligious movements such as secular feminism and atheistic Marxism. September-October 1992 647 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness Spirituality has become a broad, inclusive term that is no longer confined to or defined by religion. It seems now to name a human reality which is difficult to define but whose patterns can be verified in quite different religions and movements. It is no longer limited to the so-called "interior life" of those (mostly priests and religious) who "strive for perfection" through a life of prayer and virtue beyond that of the "ordinary" believer. Spirituality now focuses on the human spirit of believers and non-believers, on their lives as a whole, that is, on the physical and emotional, the intellectual and social, the political and cultural, the secular and religious dimensions of their lives.1 In recent years academic courses and publications in spiritu-ality have multiplied in response to the broad and deep interest among professionals in ministry and among academics in semi-naries and universities. How then are we to define spirituality? Sandra Schneiders provides the best definition that I have found: "Spirituality is the experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one perceives.''2 According to this definition, (1) spirituality names our progressive, consciously pursued movement toward personal integration; (2) such integration happens when we transcend ourselves rather than center on ourselves and our own self-actualization; and (3) such self-transcendence takes place within the horizon of how we imag-ine, think, and feel about what is ultimate in human life and moves us toward it. For Christians our ultimate concern is God revealed in Jesus Christ and experienced through the gift of the Holy Spirit and within the life of the church. But a spirituality may or may not include God or Jesus Christ, may or may not be explicitly reli-gious. Clear boundaries between the secular and the sacred, between believers and nonbelievers, are notoriously difficult to determine. But twelve-step spirituality has taught us that for reli-gious persons reliance on their "Higher Power" may mean reliance on God, while for nonreligious persons it may mean reliance on their support groups. However, our definition of spirituality does not extend to those persons who organize, orient, and orches-trate their lives in dysfunctional or narcissistic ways according to addictive patterns such as alcoholism or self-centered eroticism. Self-transcendence moves us out of compulsive, addictive, obses-sive patterns of behavior toward more healthy relationships with 648 Review for Religious other persons, with ourselves, and with a transcendent Other, however we imagine and name that Other. At the heart of spirituality, then, lies self-transcendence? The philosophical meaning of spirituality is that capacity for self-tran-scendence through knowledge and love which characterizes humans as persons. We human beings actual-ize this philosophical spirituality within the net-works and patterns of our relationships with others. We seek meaning and are found by meaning as we interact with each other indi-vidually and in communities; and we seek truth and are found by truth in these interactions. A religious spirituality affirms that the proper and highest realization of our human capacity for self-transcendence is to be found in our personal relationship with God. Spirituality in this religious sense has as its ultimate concern our individual and communal believing in, hoping for, and loving God. Religious traditions that imagine and understand God as a person who relates reciprocally with individuals and communi-ties on earth have a religious spirituality. The religions of Islam and Hinduism, of Judaism and Christianity, all see our human spirit as responding to, dependent upon, related to, and account-able to a transcendent Other named God. These religions include images, symbols, metaphors, stories, laws, and rituals through which people encounter God and are encountered by God. In Christian spirituality God's Spirit within but other than our human spirit, within but other than the community of believ-ers, actualizes our capacity for self-transcendence by relating us in and through Jesus Christ to others, to our world, and to God. Our spirituality is at work when we implicitly or explicitly imag-ine- think and feel about, make choices and decisions about-- our everyday lives within the ultimate horizon of our relationship to a personal God in and through Jesus Christ and as empow-ered by God's Spirit. We Christians seek to interpret our indi-vidual and collective human experience as centered in Jesus Christ, guided by the Holy Spirit, and oriented to God. Our spirituality is incarnational and trinitarian. God initiates the personal relationship in and through Christ by the power of the Spirit; our spirituality, individual and collec-tive, reflects how we respond to God's initiative as we face the At the heart of spirituality lies self-transcendence. Septentber- October 1992 649 T~_~pson . Spirituality and Holiness, challenges of everyday life within our specific historical and cul-rural environment. Our spirituality is the sum of our responses to what we perceive as the inner call of God. It has to do with our vocation, that is, with the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for life that is part of the purposes that God has for our lives in the world. It has to do with the activities by which we are being created by God and create with God, by which we are governed by God and govern our world with God, by which we are being redeemed by God and participate in God's work of redemption in our concrete his-torical situation. At its core, Christian spirituality concerns how we live in part-nership with the action of God in our lives, whatever its pattern. It focuses on how God actively guides our evolving universe, including God's personal interactions with individuals and com-munities. It acknowledges that our human lives are created by God and destined to return to God. It is concerned with how we are aware of and respond to God and how we transcend ourselves to relate more deeply with others and with our world. As we shall see, this call to self-transcendence may also, but need not, include development, that is, movement in the direction of more devel-oped patterns for finding truth and meaning in our lives.4 Returning to our examples: Rachel, although developmentally retarded, transcends herself by responding to Joan's invitation to friendship, the human experience that most closely resembles faith. She is instinctively present to the other adolescents in the praying group, and she senses that the adult sponsors truly want to be totally present to her. Responding more often with smiles and gestures than with words, Rachel lives close to her feelings and does not hide them from others. She has no problem loving the others and wanting to be loved, even though her movement toward personal integration is slow and retarded. Katie Klein transcended herself by serving our family and other families as laundress and cleaning lady and by being devoted to God at daily Eucharist and in her nightly prayers at home. Her faithful devotion to God and her dedicated service of others dis-closed her ultimate concern; she lived cheerfully and peacefully within the horizon of that concern. Her movement toward per-son] l integration seemed not to include changing how she found meaning in her life. I was called to transcend myself by engaging the events of 650 Review for Religious Vatican II, letting them interact with and begin to tear down the world of meaning constructed over the long years of my Jesuit formation and education. From 1963 to 1968, I was invited to let all that the council meant slowly change how I understood myself as a Jesuit priest, as well as let its vision shape in me images of what my life and work would be as a biblical scholar in the post- Vatican II Roman Catholic Church. I experienced this process as an invitation not simply to move but to leap to a new and broader world of meaning and as a challenge to come to a different under-standing of myself in that world. Spiritual Development Human development is the lifelong process of growing, of changing in many different ways. We humans sometimes change to survive or at least to find meaning in our lives. Sometimes we choose new ways to realize our dreams and attain our goals. At other times we learn better skills and gain more expertise while remaining in the same relationships to others and to our work that give meaning to our lives. We are invited to grow and develop, however, when events so shatter the ways in which we have found meaning and been found by meaning that we inust move toward shaping new patterns that will be more adequate to our changed inner and outer environment. Our journey through life may sometimes take us to new vis-tas of knowing, to deeper realms of trusting, to ever widen.ing circles of belonging, to more creative and effective acting. As we develop, we are enabled to embrace a wider world, to acknowledge a more adequate truth, to live in a more inclusive community, and to enter more deeply into the mystery of human existence. A relatively young discipline, the psychology of human devel-opment was born in response to our modern culture, in which, expecting to live longer lives, we become fascinated by what the extended journey entails. We also sense that, as we near the end of the twentieth century, the global village we call our world is dramatically changing. We need and want to know how we indi-viduals and our families and communities are to navigate such hazardous times. Erik Erikson and Jean Piaget are considered the fathers of developmental psychology. For Erikson, the father of psychoso-cial theories, development is h series of tasks based both on bio- Septe,nber- October 1992 651 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness logical development and on how we interact consciously and unconsciously with other persons, with secular and religious insti-tutions, and with all that makes up our culture. Erikson names a sequence of eight tasks: trust vs. mistrust, autonomy vs. shame and doubt, initiative vs. guilt, industry vs. inferiority, identity vs. role confusion, intimacy vs. isolation, generativity vs. stagnation, integrity vs. despair. We never complete any of these lifelong tasks, but, as we move through our lives, one task more than the others may call for special energy and attention. For example, the elderly continue to work at the tasks of trust vs. mistrust and generativity vs. stagnation even as they are called to the final task, integrity vs. despair,s Jean Piaget, the father of structural-developmental theories, focused on the structures of human thought and reasoning. He recognized that infants, children, and adolescents come to know reality differently. He developed an understanding, of cognitive development in which a stage is an integrated pattern of opera-tional structures that at a given time constitute the person's thought processes. Piaget called his stages preoperational, concretely oper-ational, early formal operational, and formal operational. Development from one stage to another involves the transforma-tion of these cognitive structures in the direction of greater inter-nal differentiation, complexity, flexibility, and stability.6 Erikson's tasks, with their focus on what meaning we find in our lives, are related to the seasons of our lives, to our youth and adolescence and to our early, middle, and late adulthood. Piaget's structural stages, with their concern for bow we find and are found by meaning, are not so related to chronological age or social envi-ronment. As children we may have begun to develop formal oper-ational structures in which our experience of others is concrete, literal, and immediate. We may have created strong stereotypes of others, shown little empathy for those with whom we are not familiar, and developed a strong but simple sense of right and wrong based on regulations, law and order, and reward and pun-ishment. Since this structure is not age related, we may live all the seasons of our lives and address all the psychosocial tasks without moving toward the next structural stage of human development. We may continue to use existing structures as long as they work, that is, until our inner and outer worlds become so much more complex that we can no longer find and be found by meaning within those structures and patterns. 652 Review for Religious When we experience life as more complex than we have known it, we may be invited to move toward the next stage of human development, toward the next task (Erikson) or toward the next structure for finding meaning (Piaget). Crises, marker events, unfulfilled hopes, changes in significant relationships can create an inner climate of confusion, doubt, and conflict that invites us into transition. Rome during Vatican II was such an inner and outer environment. If we choose to respond to the invi-tation, we begin to separate from the images that have given mean-ing to our lives and then to float in between the old and the new so that we may gradually reintegrate our lives around more ade-quate images of how we are to know, feel, value, love, and act. As we change, we may feel weak, vulnerable, and out of control because we have begun to experience our lives as more chaotic than orderly. Nevertheless, we are drawn to risk moving or being moved toward more developed patterns so that we may live and act more effectively in our increasingly complex world. Transitions in human development are those more or less extended periods in which we gradually develop more internal complexity, more sub-tle differentiation, greater flexibility, and stronger inner stability. This is the place to ask how human development with its stages and transitions relates to spiritual development. We have seen that spirituality has as its concern how over time we integrate our lives in the direction not of isolation and self-absorption but of greater self-transcendence toward the ultimate value as we per-ceive it. According to Daniel Helminiak, spiritual development is the same as human development but with four characteristics that make it spiritual: (1) an intrinsic principle of authentic self-transcendence, (2) the openness of the person to such self-tran-scendence, (3) the integrity or wholeness of the person in question, and (4) an adult capacity for self-criticism and responsibility for oneself.7 Spiritual development, like spirituality, is a general human phenomenon that may or may not be religious. It is more prop-erly studied in the human sciences than in theology, particularly in developmental psychologies with a philosophical perspective. Spiritual development can be called religious when in our search for meaning we acknowledge a personal God to whom we are related and with whom we can realize our deepest capacity for self-transcendence. Christian spiritual development understands that relationship as the gift of God's Spirit actualizing our capac- Septentber-October 1992 653 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness ity for self-transcendence and relating us to God in Jesus Christ within the Christian community of believers. We Christians believe that God is present and active in the events that change our inner climate, that Jesus Christ invites us into transition and enables us to respond to the invitation, and that God's Spirit com-panions us as we separate from outworn images and learn to float in between, waiting patiently for new, more life-giving images to emerge. Spiritual development can also be described as our moving into deeper and more comprehensive love. Love is Jesus' only command and the standard of perfection in the Christian tradi-tion. 8 Developmental psychology considers this same movement from self-centeredness to self-transcendence its criterion for human development. Although Christians understand spiritual growth as involving more than psychological development, both the Christian tradition and developmental psychology have the same vision of human maturity, that is, movement toward greater autonomy for the sake of more authentically mutual and intimate relationships. Insights from developmental psychology can enrich our understanding of and help us grow into more mature rela-tionships with others, with ourselves, with the cosmos, and with God. Holiness With this understanding of spirituality and spiritual devel-opment, we now ask what it means to be holy and whether holi-ness is the same as wholeness. I agree with Daniel Helminiak that holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship? A person can be holy at any stage of spiritual devel-opment; a neurotic person can be holy; a developmentally dis-abled or retarded person can be holy. Holiness has nothing to do with psychological wholeness, but everything to do with the qual-ity of our relationships to God and others, to ourselves and our world, whatever the pattern of those relationships. Holiness has to do with generosity, surrender, intensity, openness, and depth according to our capacity to possess and exercise these qualities. Holiness concerns our authenticity before God, others, ourselves, and our world, how we walk in these relationships, how we do God's will, how we remain close to God and others, how we live 654 Review for Religious in harmony with God, others, and ourselves, how we cooperate with the call and grace of God in our lives. Holiness concerns how well we respond to God's call to self-transcendence and enter into meaningful relationships with oth-ers and with all that makes up our environment. God's call may or may not include an invitation to move toward the next stage of human development, that is, toward more complex patterns for finding and being found by meaning. What counts is how open we are to God, how well we listen for God, and how well we respond to God in and through the relationships that make up our everyday lives. God calls us to holiness within our concrete histori-cal and cultural situation, whether we are developmentally retarded, as is Rachel; or we live with simple patterns for finding meaning, as did Katie; or we are invited to " move to the next stage of spiritual devel-opment, as I was invited. Our vocation--that is, the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for our life that is part of the purposes that God has for our life in the world--may include an invitation to develop new, more complex patterns for making meaning, but it may not. Holiness cannot be identified with psychological wholeness or correlated with spiritual development. A less developed person may be holy, while a more developed person may not. As we pass through the stages of spiritual development, we may become more psychologically mature, but whether or not we also grow in holi-ness depends on the quality of our response to the call of God in our lives. Holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship. Conclusion Now we return to our cases. Rachel cannot manage in the usual parish groups of adolescents because she moves at a much slower pace than normal in her spiritual development. She has moved through the stages of grasping reality by exploring every-thing in sight (sensory-motor thinking), of imagining the outside Septentber-October 1992 655 Thompson ¯ Spirituali~ and Holiness " world to fit her inside world (symbolic thinking), and of identi-fying with what she learns (intuitive thinking). But her retardation makes her as yet incapable of thinking beyond what actually is to what is possible (formal operational thinking). Her adult friend Joan and the other adult sponsors are convinced that Rachel is holy and growing in holiness even though developmentally retarded. Rachel receives her vocation from God through Joan and the other adolescents and adults at their biweekly sessions in symbolic catechesis. She responds to those around her and to God with the capacity she has to symbolize and imagine, to know and be known, to love and be loved. Joan senses that almost imperceptibly Rachel is growing more open, more generous, and more authentic in responding to this call of God. Her holiness depends on the quality of her response to others and to God, not on the stage of her spiritual development,l° Katie Klein lived a regular, structured, apparently unimagi-native, but meaningful life. Her experience of others and of God was concrete, literal, and immediate. And she had a 'strong but simple sense of right and wrong. She moved through the tasks of adult life (Erikson) with early formal operational structures of thought (Piaget). Although capable of further development, Katie found those patterns adequate for finding and being found by meaning in her inner and outer world. Generously serving others and being faithful to daily Mass and devotional prayers, Katie became a very holy woman even though her life situation, God in her life, never invited her to move beyond an uncomplicated pat-tern of spiritual development. Within that pattern Katie responded more and more generously to God and walked more and more faithfully with God to become as holy a person as anyone I have known. In how well she loved and served our family, in how deeply she trusted God as she approached death, we knew that Katie's was a rich, solid, strong partnership with God. During my doctoral studies, the events of Vatican II invited me to develop spiritually by letting conventional patterns for find-ing meaning in my Jesuit life be shattered so that more adequate, more individuated, more autonomous structures might be shaped. As I interacted with the environment of the council, God called me to an experience of brokenness so that I might become more whole psychologically, more mature spiritually. Reality became chaotic compared with what I had known in my years of Jesuit formation. Challenged to change, feeling vulnerable, I risked 656 Review for Religious moving toward more complex patterns for making meaning in my life. God called me into this transition so that I might more effectively live and work in the world envisioned by the council. As I struggled through this developmental transition, whether or not I was also becoming holy depended not on the transition but on how well I was listening to and how generously I was responding to the call of God in that experience. Rachel was developmentally retarded, but l~oly; Katie was never called into transition, and she was holy. God invited me to move from the conventional world of meaning I had constructed in my Jesuit formation toward a more individual stage of spiritual develop-ment. Does that mean I was also becoming more holy? Not nec-essarily! We cannot measure holiness, neither our own nor other people's; only God knows the quality of that response to God. We can remember, however, and we must, that holiness concerns how well we live in partnership with God, not how far we have advanced through the stages of spiritual development. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 681-683; Joann Wolski Conn, Spirituality and Personal Maturity (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 13-29. 2 Schneiders, "Spirituality," p. 684. 3 Sandra M. Schneiders, "Theology and Spirituality: Strangers, Rivals, or Partners," Horizons 13 (1986): 266; Wolski Conn, Spirituality, pp. 29- 30. 4 For further discussion see Katherine Marie Dyckman and L. Patrick Carroll, Inviting the Mystic, Supporting the Prophet (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 79; Benedict J. Groeschel, Spiritual Passages (New York: Crossroad, 1988), p. 4; James W. Fowler, Becoming Adult, Becoming Christian (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 71-76; James W. Fowler, Weaving the New Creation (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), p. 31. s For another approach to psychosocial development, see Daniel J. Levinson, The Seasons of a Man's Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978); Anita Spencer, Seasons (New York: Paulist, 1982). 6 For a description of contemporary structuralists (Lawrence Kohlberg, Carol Gilligan, James Fowler, Robert Kegan), see James W. Fowler, Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1981), pp. 37-116; Fowler, Becoming Adult, pp. 37-47. 7 Daniel A. Helminiak, Spiritual Development (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1987), pp. 29-42. September-October 1992 657 8 Joann Wolski Corm and Walter E. Corm, "Christian Spiritual Growth and Developmental Psychology," The Way Supplement 69 (1990): 3-13. 9 Helminiak, Spiritual Development, pp. 143-158. ~0 For an excellent treatment of the mentally retarded, see Mary Therese Harrington, A Place for All: Mental Retardation, Catechesis, and Liturgy (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). The Chess Game It seems you never give up needling away at my defenses. You come to me ready to play a game of chess where you are the seasoned player, and L the fumbling novice. Sometimes you move all at once your strategically placed artillery, leaving me helpless soon after the confrontation has begun. On other occasions you will move, with well-&ought-out expertise, your black knight too near the weakest part of my citadel. You know from past maneuvers I tend to abandon the safety of my ramparts in my hasty efforts to capture him. In the process I give you the liberty to rush into my undefended heart, capturing, as a victory prize, any false god who resides there. When you play, you are never content with a pawn or queen of mine. You want them all! Richard Heatley FSC 658 Review for Religious ROBERT E MALONEY Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear. Isaiah YO:4-Y manuals on the spiritual life, and even in the classics? One searches in vain for a chapter on listening in the writings of St. Benedict or St. Ignatius or even in the writings of very practical, concretely oriented saints like Francis de Sales and Vincent de Paul. One comes up empty too in Luis de Granada and Rodriguez and in later widely used treatises on spirituality like Tanquerey. Listening, of course, enters these writings implicitly under many headings. But if one considers listening the foundation for spirituality, one might have expected it to stand out in greater relief. This article proposes some reflections on listening as the foundation of spirituality. It will examine, in a preliminary way: (1) listening in the New Testament; (2) listening as the foundation for all spirituality; (3) some echoes of the theme in the history of spirituality; (4) the contrast between an implicit and an explicit theme; (5) some ramifications today. Christian listening begins, of course, with the Old Testament, R6bert P. Maloney CM writes from Rome, where he serves as a mem-ber of the general administration of the Vincentian Fathers and Brothers. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. September-October 1992 659 Maloney ¯ Listening where listening plays a vital role, especially in the Deuteronomic and prophetic traditions. Yahweh often complains that, when he speaks, his people "do not listen." Conversely, the prophets are preeminent listeners; they hear what Yahweh has to say and then speak in his name. "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," says the boy Samuel as he begins his prophetic career. Listening recurs again and again in the New Testament, where a study of Johannine literature, for instance, would reveal listening as the key to eter-nal life. "Whoever is of God listens to every word God speaks. The reason you do not hear is that you are not of God . If someone is true to my word he shall never see death" On 8:47, 51). Listening in Luke's Gospel In Luke's Gospel the listening theme is quite explicit. For Luke, as for the entire New Testament, God takes the initiative through his word, which breaks into the world as good news call-ing for human attention and response. Mary the model listener. As with almost all the important themes in Lukan theology, the listening theme is introduced in the infancy narratives. These narratives provide a summary of the theology that Luke will weave through his Gospel. The listening theme is among the most prominent Lukan motifs (parenthetically, one might add that in Luke's Gospel another theme is at work in many of the listening stories; contrary to the expected cultural patterns of the writer's time, a woman is the model listener presented to the reader). Mary is evangelized in Luke's first two chapters. She is the first to hear the good news. She is the ideal disciple, the model for all believers. Mary listens reflectively to Gabriel, who announces the good news of God's presence and tells her of the extraordinary child whom she is to bear; to Elizabeth, who proclaims her blessed among women because she has believed that the word of the Lord would be fulfilled in he~; to shepherds, who tell her and others the message which has been revealed to them about the child, the good news that a Savior is born; to Simeon, who proclaims a song of praise for the salvation that has come to all nations and a prophecy that ominously forebodes the cross; to Anna, who praises God in Mary's presence and keeps speaking to all who are ready to hear; to Jesus himself, who tells her about his relationship with his heavenly Father, which must take precedence over everything. 660 Review for Religious Luke pictures Mary as listening to the Angel Gabriel with wonderment, questioning what it might mean, deciding to act on it, and afterwards meditating on the mystery of God's ways, reflecting on them in her heart. The theme of listening later in Luke's Gospel. Luke uses three brief stories to illustrate this theme of listening discipleship, namely, that those who listen to the word of God and act on it are the true followers of Jesus. (1) His mother and brothers came to be with him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. He was told, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you." He told them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who listen to the word of God and act upon it" (8:19-21). In this story Luke changes the Markan emphasis (cf. Mk 3:31- 35) radically. While Mark depreciates the role of Jesus' mother and relatives, Luke extols it, echoing his first two chapters and show-ing that Mary is the ideal disciple, who listens to God's word and acts on it. (2) On their journey Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home. She had a sis-ter named Mary, who seated herself atthe Lord's feet and listened to his words. Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to him and said, "Lord are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me." The Lord in reply said to her: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it" (10:38-42). Even though Jesus' statement about the one thing necessary has been subject to innumerable interpretations, there is little doubt about the point of this story in the context of Luke's Gospel. Mary has chosen the better part because she is sitting at Jesus's feet and listening to his words, just as any true disciple does. While there are many other themes in the story (such as the role of women and the role of the home-church in early Christianity, which is reinforced here through a Lukan addition), Luke empha-sizes the basis of discipleship: listening to the word of God. That is the better part (see Lk 8:4-21). (3) While he was saying this a woman from the crowd called out "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that September- October 1992 661 Maloney ¯ Listening nursed you! . Rather," he replied, "blest are they who lis-ten to the word of God and keep it." This passage interrupts, rather puzzlingly, a series of contro-versies that Jesus is involved in during the journey to Jerusalem. But Luke inserts it to clarify the meaning of discipleship once more: real happiness does not lie in physical closeness to Jesus, nor in blood relationship with him, but in listening to the word of God and acting on it. Listening as the Basis for Spirituality All spirituality revolves around self-transcendence. As a work-ing definition for spirituality, we might use one proposed by Sandra Schneiders: "The experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one per-ceives." l For Christians spirituality involves "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Rm 13:14), "giving away one's life rather than saving it up" (Mk 8:35, Mt 16:25, Lk 9:24, Jn 12:25), and other phrases that imply self-transcendence. The self is not obliterated through self-transcendence; rather, it becomes fully actualized.2 That is the Christian paradox: in giving oneself, one finds one's true self. In that sense authentic love of God, of the neighbor, and of self come together. Authors put this in different ways. For Bernard Lonergan self-transcendence occurs in the radical drive of the human spirit, which yearns for meaning, truth, value, and love. Authenticity, then, "results from long-sustained exercise of attentiveness, intel-ligence, reasonableness, responsibility.''3 For Karl Rahner the human person is the event of the absolute self-communication of God. In his foundational works Rahner describes the human per-son as essentially a listener, one who is always awaiting a possible word of revelation. Only in Jesus, the self-communication of God, is the human person ultimately fulfilled. At the core of the his-torical human person is a gnawing hunger for the other, for abso-lute Value. A particular spirituality is a way in which this longing for the absolute is expressed.4 But this inner yearning for truth and love, this "reaching out," as Henri Nouwen expresses it, can only be satisfied by a word from without--spoken or enfleshed--that reveals what true 662 Review for Religious humanity really is. In the human person the fundamental dispo-sition for receiving that word or Word is listening. It is worth notirig here that Genesis, the wisdom books, and the Johannine tradition all seize on the concept of the Word as the way in which God initiates and breaks into human history. The creating word bears within it its own immediate response: "Let there be light, and there was light." But the word spoken to the human person, who in God's image and likeness rules with free-dom over all creation, must be listened to and responded to freely. Of course, listening here is used in the broadest sense. It includes seeing, hearing, sensing, feeling, perceiving. "Attentiveness" might serve as the term for the various ways in which the human person is ready to grasp what comes from with-out. Listening in this sense is the indispensable precondition for self-transcendence. Without it the word that comes from without goes unheard, the truth that draws the human mind to a vision beyond itself goes unperceived, the love that seeks to capture the heart goes unrequited. Is this why the saints have so stressed the importance of lis-tening in prayer? ls this why obedience has played such an influ-ential role in the tradition of religious communities? Is this why the seeking of counsel has always been regarded as one of the signs of true wisdom? Is this why the Word made flesh and the word of God in the Scriptures are at the center of all Christian spiritual-ity? Is this why the reading of the Scriptures in the liturgy and communion with the Word himself in his self-giving, sacrificial love are "the source and summit" of genuine Christian living? Listening in Vincent de Paul One can find echoes of the listening theme in many tradi-tions. Ignatian discernment, which has exerted such a forceful influence on the countless people who have made the Spiritual Exercises since the sixteenth century, is a means of listening atten-tively to what God is saying and allowing God's word to work conversion within us. Francis de Sales, whose Introduction to the Devout Life has been read by millions since its first publication in 1609, spoke of the need to "be devoted to the word of God whether you hear it in familiar conversation with spiritual friends or in sermons." He urged his readers, "Always listen to it with attention."5 September-October 1992 663 Maloney ¯ Listening Here, however, I will focus briefly on another seventeenth-century figure, Vincent de Paul, whose writings are less well known, but whose charism has influenced enormous numbers of men and women, not only in the two communities he founded (the Vincentians and the Daughters of Charity), but in other com-munities that have sprung up under his inspiration, and also in the hundreds of thousands of Ladies of Charity and St. Vincent de Paul Society members throughout the world. The central place of listening in spirituality is not explicit in the conferences and writings of St. Vincent. But the spirituality he proposes includes several key themes in which the importance of listening is evident. Humility the Foundation of Evangelical Perfection Vincent calls humility "the foundation of all evangelical per-fection and the core of the spiritual life.''6 For him truly humble people see everything as gift. The humble recognize that God is seeking to enter their lives again and again so that he may speak to them. They are alert, they listen for God's word, they are eager to receive God's saving love. The humble know that the truth which sets them free comes from without: through God's word, through the cries of the poor, through the church, through the community in which they live. There is probably no theme that St. Vincent emphasized more. He described humility as the origin of all the good that we do.7 He told the Daughters of Charity: "If you establish your-selves in it, what will happen? You will make this company a par-adise, and people will rightly say that it is a group of the happiest people on earth . ,,8 Humility and listening are closely allied in that listening is the basic attitude of those who know that fullness of life, salvation, wisdom, truth, and love come from without. Brother Robineau, Vincent's secretary, whose reflections about the saint have just been published, notes that this attitude was especially evident in Vincent's conversations with the poor, with whom he would sit and converse with great friendliness and humility.9 St. Vincent loved to call the poor the real "lords and mas-ters" ,0 in the church. It is they especially who must be listened to and obeyed. In the reign of God, the world of faith, they are the kings and queens; we are the servants. Recognizing the special 664 Review for Religious place of the poor in the new order established by Jesus, Vincent was eager not only that his followers would serve and evangelize the poor, but also that they would hear God speaking in those they served or, as we would put it today, that they would allow themselves to be evangelized.1~ Reading Sacred Scripture St. Vincent was convinced that the word of God never fails. It is like "a house built upon rock.''~2 He therefore begins each chapter of his rule and many individual paragraphs with a citation from Scripture. He asks the members of the Congregation of the Mission to read a chapter of the New Testament every day. He wants them to listen to the word of God and to make it the foun-dation of all they do: "Let each of us accept the truth of the fol-lowing statement and try to make it our most fundamental principle: Christ's teaching will never let us down, while worldly wisdom always will." ~3 Abelly, Vincent's first biographer, notes, in a colorful passage, how devoted the saint was to listening to the word of God: "He seemed to suck meaning from passages of the Scriptures as a baby sucks milk from its mother, and he extracted the core and sub-stance from the Scriptures so as to be strengthened and have his soul nourished by them--and he did this in such a way that in all his words and actions he appeared to be filled with Jesus Christ.''~4 "Obeying" Everyone The word "obedience" (ob + audire = to listen thoroughly) is related etymologically to the word "listen" (audire). For St. Vincent the role of obedience in community was clearly very important. But he also extended obedience beyond its usual mean-ing, that all are to obey the legitimate commands of superiors. Using a broadened notion of obedience, he encouraged his fol-lowers to listen to and obey everyone, so that they might hear more fully what God is saying and act on it: Our obedience ought not limit itself only to those who have the right to command us, but ought to strive to move beyond that . Let us therefore consider everyone as our superior and so place ourselves beneath them and, even more, beneath the least of them, outdoing them in defer-ence, agreeableness, and service.Is September-October 1992 665 Maloney ¯ Listening~ Obedience moreover, is not the duty of subjects alone, but of superiors too. In fact, superiors should be the first to obey, by listening to the members well and by seeking counsel: "There would be nothing more beautiful in the world, my daughter, than the Company of the Daughters of Charity if. obedience flour-ished everywhere, with the sister servant the first to obey, to seek counsel, and to submit herself." 16 An Implicit Theme vs. an Explicit One It is clear that listening plays a significant, even if unaccented, role in each of the themes described above. The importance of lis-tening is not, therefore, a "forgotten truth" (to use Karl Rahner's phrase) in the writings of Ignatius Loyola, or Francis de Sales, or Vincent de Paul, or in the overall spiritual tradition; neither, however, is it a central one. Therein lie two dangers. First, truths that remain secondary or merely implicit run the risk of being underemphasized or distorted. For example, reading a chapter of the word of God daily can degenerate into fulfilling an obligation or studying a text unless listening attentively retains its preeminent place. Likewise, the practice of humility, when distorted, can result in subservience to the voices without and deafness to the voices within, where God also speaks. In such a cir-cumstance, "humility" might mask lack of courage in speaking up, deficient self-confidence, or a negative self-image. A distorted emphasis on obedience can cause subjects to listen exclusively to superiors, no matter what other voices might say, even voices that conscience demands that we listen to. Conversely, it could cause a superior to insist loudly that he only has to "listen" to the advice of others, .not follow it (whereas in such instances he may usu-ally listen to almost no one but himself). But when listening retains a place at the center, the danger of distortion is lessened. Reading the word of God, practicing humility, and obeying are seen as means for hearing what God is saying. The accent remains on attentiveness. Second, when the importance of listening is underempha-sized, there is a subtle tendency to focus on particular practices to the detriment of others or to be attentive to certain voices while disregarding others. For instance, a member of a community might pray mightily, seeking to discern what God is saying, but pay little attention to what a superior or spiritual director who 666 Review for Religious knows the person well is trying to say. He or she may listen "tran-scendentally" or "vertically," so to speak, but show little concern for listening "horizontally." Along similar lines, a superior might be very confident that, because of the grace of his office, God lets him know what his will is, while other persons, by the grace of their office, are desperately trying to signify to the same supe-rior that God is saying something quite different. The simple truth is that we must listen to many voices since God speaks to us in many ways. Some of these ways are obviously privileged, but none has an exclusive hold on the truth. Some Ramifications In his wonderful book on community, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: The first service that one owes to others in the community consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins by listening to his Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is because of God's love for us that he not only gives us his Word but also lends us his ear. So it is his work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one ser-vice they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either, he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life. 17 If listening is so crucial to healthy spirituality, then how might members of communities grow in it, both as individuals and in common? Listening as Individuals From reflection on the church's long spiritual tradition, one might glean a number of qualities that characterize good listen-ers. Here I will touch briefly on four, which seem to me crucial for better listening. The first indispensable quality for good listening is humiliW. September- October 1992 667 It is "the foundation of all evangelical perfection, the core of the spiritual life," as Vincent de Paul put it.is Humble people sense their incompleteness, their need for God and other human per-sons. So they listen. Humility acknowledges that everything is gift; it sees clearly that all good things come from God. St. Vincent writes to a priest of the Mission: "Because we recognize that this abundant grace comes from God, a.grace which he keeps on giving only to the humble who realize that all the good done through them comes from God, I beg him with all my heart to give you more and more the spirit of humility." t9 But consciousness of one's incompleteness has a further dimension. It is not only "vertical," so to speak, but "horizontal"; we depend not only on God direcdy, but on God's creation around us. Truth, then, comes from listening not only to God himself, but to other human persons, through whom God's presence and words are mediated to us. The hunger for truth and love that lie at the heart of the mystery of the human person is satisfied only from without. We are inherently social, living within a complex network of relationships with individuals and with society. It is only when what is heard is pondered that its full mean-ing is revealed. The second quality necessary for better listening, then, is prayerful reflectiveness. While at times one can hear God speak even in a noisy crowd, it is often only in silence that one hears the deepest voices, that one plumbs the depth of meaning. The Psalmist urges us: "Be still and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). The Gospels, particularly Luke's, attest that Jesus turns to his Father again and again in prayer to listen to him and to seek his will. Prayer is then surely one of the privileged ways of lis-tening. But it must always be validated by life. One who listens to "what God is telling me" in prayer, but who pays little heed to what others are saying in daily life, is surely suspect. Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also (and often first of all) in the people around us. Because prayer is a meeting with God himself, what we say in prayer is much less important than what God says to us. When there is too much emphasis on what we say or do during prayer, it can easily become a "good work," an "achievement," a "speech," rather than a "grace," a "gift," a "gratuitous word" from God. 668 Review for Religious Naturally, prayer, like all human activities, involves structures, personal discipline, persevering effort. But the emphasis must always be on the presence of the personal God, to whose word we must listen attentively as he speaks to us the good news of his love for us and for others. In an era when there is much noise, where the media, if we so choose, speak to us all day long, one must surely ask: Are we able to distinguish the voice of God among the many voices that are speaking? Is God's word able to say "new things" to us? Are we still capable of wonder? As may be evident to the reader, the word wonder has an etymological kinship, through German, with wound. Is the word of God able to wound us, to pen-etrate the membrane that seals us off, that encloses us within ourselves? Can it break into our consciousness and change us? The third necessary quality is respect for the words of human persons. It is here perhaps that the tradition was weakest. It did emphasize humility. It Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also in the people around us. did accent the need to hear what God is saying and to discern his will. But it rarely focused explicitly, in the context of spirituality, on the central place of listening to other people. Many contemporary documents put great emphasis on the dignity of human persons and on the importance of hearing the cries that come from their hearts. Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes and the encyclical Redemptor Hominis see the human person as the center of creation,z° Centesimus Annus puts it strikingly: "Today the church's social doctrine focuses especially on man . ,,2~ Respect for human persons acknowledges that God lives in them and that he reveals himself in and through them. It acknowl-edges that words of life come from the lowly as well as the pow-erful. In fact, St. Vincent became gradually convinced that "the poor have the true religion" and that we must be evangelized by them.22 Many of the recently published texts of Brother Louis Robineau, which relate his pe,rsonal experience of Vincent de Paul, attest to the saint's deep, respect for persons of all types. September-October 1992 669 Maloney ¯ Listening Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authentic communities. Robineau notes how well Vincent listened to them: poor and rich, lay and clerical, peasant and royal.23 In this context, the process of questioning persons that is involved in the quest for truth takes on a new light. When there is deep respect for all human persons, questioning involves a genuine search for enlightenment, rather than being, in some hidden way, refutation or accusation. Questioning is a tool for delving deeper, for unpeeling layers of meaning, for knowing the other person bet-ter, for digging toward the core of the truth. As we attempt to develop increasing respect for human persons, surely we must ask some challenging questions. Are we really able to hear the cries of the poor, of the most oppressed: the women and chil-dren, who are often the poorest members of society; those discriminated against because of race, color, nationality, religion; the AIDS victims, who are often shunned by their families and by the physically healthy; those on the "edges of life," the helpless infants and the helpless aged, who are unable to speak for themselves? Are we able to hear the counsel given to us by others: by spiritual directors, by members of our own com-munities, by the documents of the church and our own religious congregations? Are we sensitive to the contributions that come from other sources of human wisdom (like economics, sociology, the audiovisual media, the massive data now available in com-puterized form) that often speak concretely about the needs of the poor, that can help us find and combat the causes of poverty or that can assist us in the new evangelization called for by the church? Are we alert, "listening," to the "signs of the times": the increasing gap between the rich and the poor and the repeated call for justice made by the church; the movement toward unity within global society, which is now accompanied by an opposite movement toward separatism and nationalism; the growth of the church in the southern hemisphere, which contrasts with its diminishment in many places in the northern hemisphere. The fourth quality needed is attentiveness, one of the most important signs of respect for the human person. It is the first step in all evangelization, the prerequisite for serving Christ in the poor. It is only when the servant is attentive to the needs of the master (in this case, the poor person) that he really knows what to 670 Review for Religious bring him. It is only when the evangelizer is alert to the needs of the listener that she is able to communicate genuinely good news. Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authen-tic communities. If community members do not pay close atten-tion to the opinions and needs of those they live with, each person becomes isolated even if still physically present to others. Those living in community must therefore continually seek renewed ways of listening to each other and of sharing their prayer, their apostolic experience, their struggles in community, their successes and failures, their joys and sorrows. Attentiveness is also of the greatest importance as one seeks counsel. Robineau relates how often St. Vincent asked others their' opinion about matters at hand, "even the least in the house." He often heard him say that "four eyes are better than two, and six better than four.''24 Robineau relates an interesting incident in this regard: One day he did me the honor of telling me that it was nec-essary to make it our practice, when consulting someone about some matter, always to recount everything that would be to the advantage of the opposing party without omitting anything, just as if it were the opposing party itself that was there to give its reasons and defend itself, and that it was thus that consultations should be carried out.zs Listening in Community Meetings, along with consultations and questionnaires of var-ious sorts, are among the primary means of listening in commu-nity. Like most realities, meetings are "for better or for worse." Almost all of us have experienced some that we find very fruitful and others that we would be happy to forget about. To put it in another way, meetings can be a time of grace or a time when sin threatens grace. Communities, like individuals, can become caught up in them-selves. A healthy self-concern can gradually slip into an unhealthy self-preoccupation. Outgoing zeal can be replaced by self-cen-tered security seeking. Communities can be rescued from this state, in a way analogous to that of individuals, only through cor-porate humility,26 a communal effort to listen to God and com-munal attentiveness to the words of others. September-October 1992 671 Maloney ¯ Listening Meetings can be a time when sin threatens grace. When there is no listening, they create strife and division. They disrupt rather than unify. They deepen the darkness rather than focus the light. Among the signs that sin is at work in meetings is fighting. When participants do not listen, there is inevitable strife, bad feelings, disillusionment, bitterness. Such meetings result in fleeing. The group backs away from major decisions, especially those that demand some conversion; it refuses to listen to the prophets; it seeks refuge in the status quo. A further consequence is fractur-ing. When participants do not listen, badly divided splinter groups form; the "important" conversations take place in the corridors rather than in the meeting hall; politics, in the worst sense, takes the place of discernment. Meetings can be an opportunity for grace. They provide us with a wonderful opportunity for listening and discernment. They enable communities to work toward decisions together, as a com-munity. In order for this to happen, those who meet must be com-mitted to sharing their common heritage, creating a climate of freedom for discussion, and planning courageously for the future. In meetings where God is at work, we recall our heritage in order to renew it. We listen to and retell "our story." We recount and rehear the deeds of the Lord in our history. We celebrate our gratitude in the Eucharist and let thanksgiving fill our hearts, for we have heard the wonderful works of the Lord. We share com-munal prayer and reflection because the faith of others strength-ens us. The atmosphere will be grace-filled if all are eager to listen to each other. If all arrive without hardened positions and preju-dices, convinced that the group must seek the truth together, then the groundwork for the emergence of truth has already been laid. The content, no matter how concrete or seemingly pedes-trian, will be grace-filled if all hear the word of God together, listen to each other's reflections on that word, and make deci-sions on that basis. The decisions of a listening community will flow from its heritage while developing the heritage in the light of contemporary circumstances.27 Meetings play an important role within God's providence. God provides for the growth of communities through wise deci-sions that govern their future, especially the training of the young, the ongoing formation of all members, and care for the aging. But such decisions can be made only if the members of the com- 672 Review for Religious munity are willing to listen to the data that describes its present situation and projects its future needs. Communal decision mak-ing, based on realistic projections, is one of the ways in which providence operates in community life. Failure to listen to the data--difficult though it may sometimes be to "hear" it honestly-- results in calamitous "blindness" and "deafness." The listening individual and the listening community will surely grow, for listening is the foundation of all spirituality. To the listener come truth, wisdom, the assurance of being loved. To those who fail to listen comes increasing isolation. Jesus, like the prophets, knew that listening made demands and consequently was often lacking. He lamented its absence: "Sluggish indeed is this people's heart. They have scarcely heard with their ears, they have firmly closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under-stand with their hearts, and turn back to me, and I should heal them" (Mt 13:15). He also rejoiced in its presence: "But . . . blessed are your ears because they hear" (Mt 13:16). In recent years many congregations have attempted to assist individuals, local communities, and assemblies to listen better, In workshops much effort has been put into fostering practical lis-tening skills. But are there ways in which communities, particu-larly during initial formation, can better communicate the importance of listening as foundational for growth? If listening is the foundation of all spirituality, as this article has tried to show, then it is crucial for personal growth and for the vitality of all communities. Notes ~ Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 684. 2 See Ga 2:19-21: "I have been crucified with Christ, and the life I live now is not my own: Christ is living in me. Of course, I still live my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." The Greek text identifies Jesus as the self-giving one. It also makes it clear that self-transcendence does not wipe out true human-ity, but fulfills it. 3 Bernard Lonergan, A Third Collection, ed. Frederick Crowe (New York: Paulist, 1985), p. 9. 4 See K. Rahner, Grundkurs des Glaubens (Freiburg: Herder, 1984), pp. 35f, 42f. Septewtber-October 1992 673 Maloney ¯ Listening s Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans. John K. Ryan (New York: Doubleday, 1972), pp. 107 and 108. 6 Common Rules H, 7. 7 SV IX, 674; see Common Rules H, 7. 8 SV X, 439. 9 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racontdpar son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.I.L., 1991), §46 and §54. 10 See SVIX, 119; X, 332. 1~ See Evangelii Nuntiandi, §15. 12 Common Rules H, 1. ,3 Ibid. 14 Abelly, Book III, 72-73. ~s SV XI, 69. ~6SV IX, 526. ~7 D. Bonhoeffer, Life Together (London: SCM Press, 1954), p. 75. ~Common Rules H, 7. 19 SV I, 182. 20 Gaudium et Spes, §§9, 12, and 22; Redemptor Hominis, passim. 21 Centesimus Annus, ~54. 22 SV XII, 171. 23 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racont? par son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.LL., 1991), especially §§71-83. 24 Ibid, §52. 25 Ibid, §118. 26 Vincent de Paul repeatedly emphasized the need for corporate humility if the congregations he founded were to grow. See SV II, 233: "I think the spirit of the Mission must be to seek its greatness in lowli-ness and its reputation in the love of its abjection." 27 In his essays on spirituality, Karl Rahner distinguishes between "material" and "formal" imitation of Christ. In material imitation, one seeks to do the concrete things that Jesus did, ignoring the extent to which everything he did was influenced by his social context. In formal imitation, one seeks to find the core meaning of what Jesus said or did and apply it within the changed social context. 674 Review for Religious JOHN WICKHAM Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth Both in coming to understand our own spiritual develop-ment and (should we be engaged in spiritual direction) in reflecting on where a directee of ours may presently be moving, a sense of the various kinds of transition that often occur can be a great help. I assume here that spiritual growth (changes, new data) are to be expected, are even to be sought. Quite a number of transitions are possible. One can move, for example, from a life of mortal sin to a life of sanctifying grace, from a rather legalistic reliance on external rules to a life of per-sonal choices; or, at the other end of the spectrum, one can move from a devout life to a life of advanced mystical prayer. But two other transitions deserve, I think, special attention today. The two developments I have in mind are often at issue in the Spiritual Exercises ofSt. Ignatiushone of them in the First and Second Weeks taken as a whole, and the other in the unit formed by the Third and Fourth Weeks. In his active spirituality St. Ignatius may be said to have reshaped the "Three Ways" (purgative, illuminative, unitive) into two spiritual transitions, each of which reveals both a negative and a positive side. This essay will attempt to describe and study these two major movements that occur in many dedicated lives. After each of them has been clarified, their relationship and especially their differ-ences will require comment. John Wickham sJ is director of the Ignatian Centre of Spirituality, which prepares and accredits directors. His address is 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec H4B 2A7; Canada. Septentber-October 1992 675 The First Transition Assuming, as St. Ignatius does at the start of his First Week Rules for Discernment, that we are in touch with persons living a good Christian life, striving to get free of sinful ways and to grow into closer union with God, then this first important tran-sition may be seen to move from relying mainly on getting emo-tional satisfaction to discerning spiritual consolations received from the Lord and felt in the heart. This formulation makes a contrast between emotions and feelings (or felt knowing). Emotions in this usage refer to per-sonal responses to objects in the external world around us (through our five senses) and to interpersonal events in our social setting. There is nothing wrong, of course, with emotional expe-riences. Emotions are often the main stuff of human life. In their endless varieties they fill most of our daily hours. We wake up in one mood and at night perhaps we drift off to sleep in the grip of another. Between times we may be surprised by shifts and changes of emotion or brood over a lingering mystery of emotional confusion. Persons without emotional reactions are hard to bear. We might wonder if they suffer from some disorder. But perhaps their emotions are not warm and pleasant but of the cold, off-putting kind. Whatever their nature, we can be sure that our emotional responses provide the real texture of human life. In themselves they are part and parcel of God's creation. And like other creatures they may be put to good use or they may get us into trouble. Returning to the formula given above, what needs emphasis at this point is the habit of relying too much on emotional satisfac-tions. When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. We can become stuck right there. Without realizing the fact, we may be expect-ing God to deliver emotional satisfaction to us and we get angry when God fails to do so. We pray, in effect, a self-centered prayer, "my will be done on earth--not Thine!" While nothing is wrong with emotions in themselves, we can put too much stock in them. Let us be honest, many of us do so a good part of the time. We come to rely almost entirely on our own emotional states. If they are satisfying, "God is good!" If not, "God has rejected me!"--or we imagine things are going wrong. 676 Revie'w for Religious One of the major troubles of social life is to have others inflict their moods on us--because they tend to interpret the nature of reality in terms of current emotions. "The emotion that grips me now tells me who I am and what the world is doing to me." Even if we can avoid inflicting our emo-tional state on others, we still often experience the world in accord with our emotional state at the moment. As the poet Pope tells us, "All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye"--and the world looks rosy through rose-colored glasses. Our emotions easily become a lens that colors our world--for the time they last. This is often how we are as we begin our spiritual journey. There is nothing very surprising about it. And so a well-known stage of purification consists in getting free of emotional demands. First comes the step of noticing our emotional reactions, of naming them as they occur, and of refusing to identify our being with their con-tinuance. In order to become liberated from their insistent claim upon us, we learn to do small penances. In the past there has often been a danger of coming to despise our own emotions--an undesirable side-effect when struggling to gain freedom by willpower alone from these emotional claims. ~Without further treatment of that point, I merely note here the need to avoid puritanical efforts in this transition. We are dealing with spiritual growth, which is always initiated and brought about by divine grace. We do, of course, need to cooperate with such graces, and small penitential acts are forms of cooperation. But our highly emotive personal responses are right and true in themselves. Even if emotional self-denial is necessary for a cer-tain time, we will need to return to our emotions just as soon as we can get free of their tyranny. Then they may become, not only right and true, but beautiful and even holy. Emotional self-denial is only a temporary ploy within a larger movement of growth, not the main aim of the spiritual life. An egotistical tendency (if it is present) to invest our sense of self mainly in our emotional satisfactions needs to be purified during the First Week exercises. That is, of course, a rather sub-jective way of approaching the areas of sinfulness that call for purification, but it seems appropriate here because I am focus- When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. September-October 1992 677 ,Wick~ ham ¯ Key Transitions,, ing on interior transitions. The Rules for Discernment them-selves lay heavy stress on the desolations to be expected in a per-son striving to move forward, and on the need to persevere in that intention despite the losses of emotional satisfaction that may be experienced. Spiritual Feeling In the more positive phases of the continuing transition, spir-itual consolations arising from moments of union with Jesus the Lord may make their presence felt as one enters the Second Week of the Exercises. It is assumed at this point that exercitants have already heard the call of Christ to follow him and have responded (with varying degrees of enthusiasm) to that summons. And dur-ing the contemplations of the public life that follow, each one must learn how to discern true from false consolations. An elementary principle to be noted here is that consolations of the Lord are not to be identified as "feeling good" and deso-lations as "feeling bad." Many today use the term "feeling" in a general sense that includes (or mainly denotes) what I have described above as emotions. That is a defensible usage, but in this essay I wish to separate the term "feelings" from the term "emo-tions" as already defined. I want to cast light on the rather dif-ferent movements we may experience at a deeper, more interior level of our being. In other words, I wish to define feeling (an enduring state) and feelings (momentary events or "touches") as personal responses that occur at our spiritual center in the core of our being, and not primarily in our social world. Humans may be said to enjoy a double-leveled awareness, one with outer and inner dimensions. In this discussion I am using emotions to refer to responses at the outer level, and feeling to refer to responses at the inner level. Quite correctly, it should be insisted that outer and inner lev-els are continually interacting together. Whena sudden event moves us wholly, it is often true that emotions and feelings are impossible to distinguish. Tears start from our eyes, our heart is fully engaged, we cry out with joy or sorrow, we even experience sensations in our body (waves of heat or cold, tingling of the spine, pressures in hands or feet, a burning forehead, and so on). Similar points may be made about calmer experiences as well. 678 Review for Religious In fact, it is normal for human beings to "sense" a two-way intercourse between outer and inner events, between what occurs in the social world and simultaneously in the interior feeling. Our reflective capacity, which is not merely mental but also passion-ate, is precisely what makes our awareness human. Our con-sciousness is multidimensional. While we know and feel, we also know we are knowing and feeling. And when we respond emo-tionally, we are aware at the same time of various intuitions under-lying our most emphatic emotions. Even when we "forget our self" in some activity or other, that welcome effect is considered unusual--an exception to the rule, and never total. Besides, an egotistical self-awareness is not the only kind of selfhood we may experience. We may be full of self-doubt, for example, or eagerness, or mistrust, or calm happiness, and so on. The Inner Self All the same, what is transpiring in this first transition is pre-cisely a development of interior selfhood. As certain modes of dominance by the outer self are overcome, we receive a new growth of inner self---a very important transition in anyone's life. Today we may take it for granted that the "self" we are talk-ing about, no matter how much trouble it may get us into, is a positive value in its own right, not to be identified with mere self-ishness or false egotism. Only fairly recently did this new assump-tion gain acceptance. For example, in The Imitation of Christ the term "self" was rarely used except in a pejorative sense, and it followed that one's main goal was to get free of it as much as possible. That view continued to be the dominant one until only a few decades ago. The shift that has taken place so recently has brought with it a new sense of the human subject, of selfhood as a valuable reality-- however much it may need to be discovered, owned, purified, and developed. A much stronger awareness of the "inner-self"--at least as a potential reality--has arisen among many members of our secu-lar culture today. Often we know it first for negative reasons: we are hurt, we feel misunderstood, we are unable to communicate our special desires or intentions, we are judged wrongly or become unsure of what we really meant. It causes a great deal of confusion, September-October 1992 679 anger, resentment, and so on. But at some point or other it may dawn on us that, despite the urgent need we may be feeling for much more growth and clarity, our inner self is a reality, valu-able in and for its own simple being. We may begin to experi-ence our own goodness as a fact. It need not, and cannot, be earned or proven. It is just "given." Through faith I may know that my personal existence is received from God who does not choose to make me without lov-ing me. My selfhood is real and my unique being is loved--even holy. That realization is such a remarkable event in anyone's life that it calls for prolonged attention and care during the earlier stages of spiritual growth. Since I assume that the above reality is widely recognized and appreciated today, I wish to focus now upon the kind of transition involved in its realization. An individual coming through that key transition begins to experience things in a personal way that may be called heartfelt. They are spiritual feelings and illuminations in the inner self. These consolations (or desolations) differ noticeably in qual-ity from emotions experienced in the outer, social world. And the transition from relying mainly on emotions to rel~ing mainly upon spiritual consolations (feeling) is a very significant "moment" in one's development. Not a False but a True Self This transition has been the main aim of novitiate programs ii~ recent centuries, although in most cases the novitiate was directed toward the positive adoption of each congregation's way of life. In other words, a single spiritual "style" or mode of oper-ation was proposed for every novice to imitate and put into prac-tice, and what needed to be sacrificed in order to obtain this goal was the ordinary tendency to demand emotional satisfactions for oneself. The self in question was taken to be wholly "selfish" and needed to be "offered up." Today a single spiritual lifestyle imposed on everyone alike has been replaced by "the charism of the founder/foundress" in a way that leaves room for the unique selfhood of each member to receive recognition and approval. As a result, the sense of self in question had to be clarified. The false self, which needs to be purified, is one that demands 680 Revievo for Religious emotional satisfactions and is upset when these are not forth-coming. But the true self, to be realized through penance and pa.tient striving against desolations, is received as a gift from God and recognized in consolations consisting of spiritual feeling and preconceptual knowing (experiences of sentir). A special way of following Christ, modeled in each congre-gation by the founder/foundress, will enable new members to undergo a radical purification of their conscious (or outer) self in the process of identifying their center of being in their heart's core. Members of vowed congregations who were trained in the older system have likely gone through an adjustment of this sort during recent decades. Each one will need to say how he or she has made the required adaptation, if indeed it has taken place, and what precisely was involved. But in general it may be said with some confidence that this first transition, which is of primary importance in spiritual growth, has been clarified as the emergence of an inner self united with the Lord in discipleship. What prevents its growth is usually the habit of expecting or relying upon emotional satisfactions, a habit which must be changed if the desired transition is to take place. Once it has been changed, and soon after the new inner self has grown accustomed to spiritual consolations, a reintegration of the'whole person with her or his emotional responses should then commence. This process will involve the formation of new social habits on the basis of the inner self so recently received from the Lord as a true actuation of one's potential being. The Second Transition An expectation of further growth should not disappear from our purview for too long after the first transition has been com-pleted. True enough, a directee who begins to enjoy true spiritual consolations does require considerable time (perhaps several years) to integrate them and create a new way of life on the basis of the inner self they bring alive. But the moment will inevitably come when remembering past graces will no longer suffice. As soon as signs of this new need begin to appear, the director (if not the directee) ought to recognize them. Such signs may point to the onset of a second, rather different transition. What might signs of this new sort be like? In general, con-solations of "the Second Week type" curiously do not seem to Septentber-October 1992 681 Wickbam ¯ Key Transitions operate "as well as" ones of an earlier stage. In different contexts, we should notice, St. Ignatius employs the same word, "consola-tion," in somewhat different senses. In the First Week, for exam-ple, which deals with persons who seek to be more and more purified from their sins, the ferm simply means experiences lead-ing to closer union with God. But in the Second Week it means experiences of persons bound in close discipleship to the Lord; because these apparent consolations may come from God or from the enemy, they need to be examined much more carefully. It is my contention here that the term is further varied in the Third and Fourth Weeks: if it gains in nuance by moving from the purgative to the illuminative way, we should not be surprised that it varies again in moving to the unitive way. It is usually rather puzzling to find that "what used to make me happy no longer does so." Naturally enough, we normally expect things to continue as they were. But the fact of the matter is that we may change so significantly (because of Our authentic spiritual growth) that what used to console us does not console us any more. Former ways, including ways of praying, that we had first discovered with some difficulty and later came to enjoy with a sense of real progress now seem to leave us cold. They no longer satisfy our hearts, but instead cause a certain malaise or uneasiness. It can be quite disconcerting. What can have gone wrong? At first we may fasten on various explanations: we are not trying hard enough; we have grown com-placent and lack humility; we should return to our former graces with renewed enthusiasm, and so on. But try as we will, the loss of taste, the lack of any real sense of meaning and .value in our usual way of life, continues to bother us. Of course, many different factors may be relevant in the case of each person. But I want to introduce the possibility of a new kind of transition as an important consideration in many cases. If indeed the divine Spirit is moving us to a new stage of growth, then we are obliged to give it some attention. Unitive Experiences Since what I will be describing his to do with the unitive way, let me begin by insisting that this traditional stage of spiritual development is not exceptional, not meant for only a very few persons, and not regularly accompanied by unusual mystical phe- 682 Review for Religious nomena. Unitive graces are an ordinary occurrence in most devout lives, just as are those of the illuminative and purgative ways. (Besides, concretely speaking, even after one has discerned unitive experiences, he or she is not usually separated for very long from renewed moments of purification and illumination. Perhaps one should stress the fact that occasional unitive graces do not mean one is "firmly established" in the unitive way--what-ever that may mean.) It is my conviction that the Third and Fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises cannot be reduced to a "confirmation of Second Week graces." That may be legitimate in many cases, but the limitation ought to be spelled out rather than turned into a general rule. Let me be explicit: a limitation of Third and Fourth Week graces occurs quite legitimately when the individual person has for the first time received graces belonging to the first transition or when a notable deepening of that transition has been granted. In other words, the person's "inner self" has been realized or deep-ened in graces of union with Christ--and this is quite new for this individual. In that case (and it is a very important develop-ment) the Third and Fourth Weeks are likely to consist mainly of graces that confirm the key event that has so recently transformed the person involved. The Passion of Jesus may be shared in many different ways-- even by the same people at different times. I may cling to the cross in a sort of desperation if I am in serious danger of falling into mortal sin. Or during a crisis of decision making or of self-doubt I may dwell in the Garden of Gethsemane. Alternatively, I might find my personal illness or injuries transformed by a new way of sharing in the sufferings of Christ. Or I could accept obsta-cles thrown across my path, get free of resentments that have long bothered me, or deal more creatively with insults and humil-iations that come my way by prayerfully participating in what the Lord endured in his Passion out of love for me. This list could be much extended, but I simply wish to illus-trate here the wide variety of possible experiences we may find. At least a mention may be made of special graces of union with the Passion, such as we may read about in St. Juliana or other spiri-tual writers. Some of these may be clarified in what follows, but my main concern is to speak about Third Week (and Fourth Week) graces in a way that might enable ordinary Christians seek- September-October 1992 683 ~ickham ¯ Key Transitions ing a closer union with the Lord to recognize the possible mean-ing of unitive experiences that may also have been given to them. When the Passion of Christ "confirms" the first transition in the experience of a given directee, then that person's union with the Lord (so recently received or deepened) may be clarified and strengthened through worldly rejections and insults, even when these are taken in prayer to the limit situations of betrayal, impris-onment, violence, condemnation, and death. In other words, one's interior meaning and value as a person created and saved by the Lord and called to his service will become much more surely "known" in consolations received when contemplating the Passion. The Resurrection contemplations, in similar fashion, may confirm the previous grace more positively through experiences of a new way of life operating out of spiritual feelings received in the depths of the inner self. Those "Second Week" consolations may become clarified and strengthened through experiences of union with the risen Lord. Such graces received during the Fourth Week are to be discerned, unless I am mistaken, as confirming the Second Week graces already obtained by the directee. Limiting the Last Two Weeks In short, in these cases (only), confirmation of the Election in the Passion and Resurrection contemplations may be taken as appropriate during the Third and Fourth Weeks. This means that the central grace of the Spiritual Exercises is seen to be one of inti-mate personal union with Jesus (most fully revealed in the Election). What I have called the "first transition" may be rec-ognized as the main event for the individual person one is direct-ing-- even during the last two Weeks. So frequently is this the case today that many directors tend to consider it the only true goal of the Third and Fourth Weeks. But if that is so, then their notion of the unitive way has become dangerously foreshortened. For all practical purposes, it has been subordinated to the purgative and illuminative ways. But if the unitive way is truly a normal dimension in the growth of every devout Christian (as I believe it to be), then its omission from the Spiritual Exercises would be a limitation that raises serious questions. And to restrict unitive graces to a few exceptional persons would, in my opinion, be equally damaging. There is secular evidence to give us pause today. When 684 Review fbr Religious Maslow began to publish his findings on "peak experiences," he was under the impression that only a small number of persons had undergone this type of interior opening. But further research by himself and others produced widespread testimonies to simi-lar events. Eventually he reached the conviction that peak expe-riences of one kind or another are universal, although ignored or repressed by a hardy few. While his concept of "peak experiences" is ambiguous and may refer to quite a wide range of phenomena, his evidence cannot be restricted to what I have named the first transition. What I would like to call the second transition, then, would always assume the previous acquisition of first-transition graces. For example, if we suppose that a directee before making the Spiritual Exercises has already received profound graces of the Second Week type, what would likely occur during the first two Weeks? Usually one would expect the directee to receive confir-matory graces during those meditations and contemplations. But I would add that such prayer experiences might also be prepara-tory to more advanced graces possibly to be offered during Weeks Three and Four. If a director is not open to this possibility, then the fore-shortening of the Exercises, already mentioned, becomes all too likely. And if the more advanced graces of the second transition are actually given, such a director would not know what to make of them. The directee's experiences might easily be misunder-stood and the director could fall into false discernments. I believe that this has in fact occurred far too often. Challenges to a Good Way of Life The reality of spiritual growth reveals how frequendy believ-ers find that God disallows their apparently excellent form of commitment to the divine service. "The rug is pulled out from under their feet," we could say. Let us assume, for the sake of argument here, that the way of life of a given directee is truly unselfish and generous. It has been discerned carefully under direction, and has in fact become fruitful in its apostolic outreach. Is it possible that God might call the individual to surrender, or move away from, this entirely good way of life? Not only is it possible, it ftequendy takes place. A car accident, a heart attack, a financial loss, or social changes intervene to make September-October 1992 685 IVickbam ¯ Key Transitions our chosen course no longer viable. From many (limited) points of view, this makes no sense at all. But the point of view that mat-ters is the divine one--where we are called to believe and trust without knowing why, without making our own merely "common sense views" the final criterion in our discernment. This is what must have challenged Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on that first Holy Saturday. To her way of thinking, what could have been better than the life and teaching of Jesus? And yet its rejection in Israel was permitted by the divine mystery. Mary had to accept that baffling course of events, painful as it was in the extreme, without any "human" understanding of its value. We might say that God asked her to endure a spiritual death in her own heart corresponding exactly with the actual death of her Son. If this line of thought is pushed a little further, of course, we may perceive that the Passion and Death of Jesus was itself most acutely a spiritual death for our Lord himself. Had he not set his heart upon the conversion of Israel whom he desired to gather under his wings as a hen gathers her chicks? But they would not have it so. Instead, he was compelled to accept the rejection of his teachings, and of himself with them, at the hands of those in Israel who were in positions of wealth, prestige, and power. Only a few remained his followers. Jesus embraced this destiny out of love for all his people (including the very ones who were bent on his destruction). Not only did he accept the loss of what he had hoped to gain, but he did so with generosity of spirit. And so the Father raised him to a new role in the course of our history, a role that brought him into direct relation with every nation on earth. That spiritual death, which he so fully accepted, led to a new form of spiritual life for every people--even for ourselves. This, of course, is the pattern set for all of us by our Lord in his paschal mystery. But it should be obvious that we do not reach the fuller modes of participation all at once. Only gradually over many years do the devout followers of Jesus find the path to a more complete union with the Lord in the mystery of divine pur-pose. This does not mean that what we presently do will certainly be taken away during our course of active life (that remains a mystery of the future). It means only that, if we do move forward in union with the Lord, our basic attitude toward what we do and who we are will likely be tested in a more radical way. Even so, 686 Re~ie~ for Religious those who know us externally may not even notice the changes occurring deep within us. But somehow, through threats of illness, accidents, or altered situations that touch each one of us deeply, experiences like those that came upon our Lady and the other disciples of our Lord-- experiences, that is, of a spiritual death corresponding to the actual death embraced by Jesus out of love--will need to be encountered. And if we are graced by the divine love, we may pass through that "radicalization of the paschal mystery" so as to enter into a new kind of life in God--or at least into momentary tastes of it. This is what I mean by unitive graces. The Root of the Matter The term "radicalization" refers to the removal of more deeply rooted barriers to union with the Lord. Negative events similar to the ones mentioned above may occur in our lives, of course, without becoming the occasion of unitive graces. What is assumed here is that advanced graces of purification from sin have already been received, and that graces of intimate discipleship have also been conferred which have enabled well-discerned com-mitments to service of the Lord's kingdom in this world. It is only some years after a first transition has been made that certain neg-ative events may trigger an experience of lost selfhood or lost capacity for going on--even though outwardly one still goes throughthe motions that resemble a normal life. But why is it necessary to "die" to our good interior self in order to "live" in the heights of the spirit? Whatever answers we attempt will necessarily dwell within the mystery of divine union. Does our chosen way of life in its underpinnings somehow tend to place a barrier between ourselves and God? If so, why should that be? Does our most intimate sense of true selfhood always to some degree (because it remains unfinished) hinder us in our encoun-ters with God? Does our entry into utter transcendence always call for a further surrender--and yet never actually deny the validity of our individual and communal being? (These are far from being new questions--they belong to a well-worn tradition.) Sometimes our experiences of union seem to emphasize a oneness that obliterates awareness of distinct selfhood or to bring about a newness of love-identity in the Other that makes us eas- September-October 1992 687 ily forget our usual human longing for recognition as individuals. True. But these passing tastes and their remembered glories refer to unitive graces which at first can stun us with their breakthrough "difference." By this I mean that the experiential qualities tend to capture too much attention at first--they are new to us, very fulfilling, and so ~ometimes a bit extravagant. Nonetheless, the substantial reality of a grace, once given, is never taken away by the Lord even though the experiential aspects are temporary. We remember the experiences, but we are still inwardly changed and even "put together" differently by the substantial character of those gifts. The Way of the Cross In the specific case of unitive graces, however, a prior expe-rience of spiritual death points to another factor. There is no way to Easter, as we know, that does not pass through Calvary. In the terms already used above, this means that radical experiences of union with the risen Lord in the "heights of the spirit" are not possible for us until we have undergone a spiritual death "in the depths of the soul." P~erhaps this factor can be clarified by saying that we are not ready for unitive graces (of the Fourth Week type of consolation) until we have experienced the loss of interior consolations previ-ously given us (Second Week spiritual feelings and illuminations). In terms of selfhood, we might say that we must die (not to any false self, but) to the good "inner self" given to us in the first transition. Only the loss of that very g~od gift can prepare us to receive a "higher self," spiritually communicated to us by the risen Christ in this second transition. In consequence, the two transitions I have been describing are related in the Spiritual Exercises--and beyond them. The "spiritual death" that essentially prepares for the second transition is the experiential loss precisely of the grace already received in the first transition. There can be no second transition, then, if the first has not previously occurred. We should note that the "second kind of humility" is cer-tainly meant for use in the Election. The "third kind of humility," on the other hand, is intended to enable directees--should they actually receive that grace--to move forward into the second tran-sition after their full acceptance of the first. 688 Review for Religious Concretely, of course, this conceptual clarity is muddied by many variations in practice: both transitions may be combined or crossmated, along with backward and forward movements, fre-quent delays and regressions, sudden spurts and more sudden withdrawals--endless "visions and revisions," as Eliot puts it. The actual circumstances do not often present ready-made examples for our mental laboratory. MI the same, our awareness of the "crucial" contrast between the second transition and the first may prove helpful. If the approach taken here is even approximately correct, then we may be assisted in discerning the special qualities of second-transition experiences, especially in their earlier phases (of the Third Week sort). And this may enable us to avoid false strictures on our own or others' responses to these movements of grace. Qualities of the New Life The first transition, then, moves an individual from relying mainly on emotional satisfactions to receiving spiritual consola-tions in the inner self. The sedond transition may be said to move one from a well-accepted habit of interior union with the Lord and a way of life based upon it to a new life received directly from the risen Christ and enabling experiences of a higher self. It remains to suggest various qualities of the higher life that is enabled by unitive graces. First of all, although one's ordinary life, of course, continues, along with it (and not only behind it but also "in among" it) there is known to be a divine presence-- ever so delicate and respectful of one's freedom. That factor may grow more powerful at certain times, but often it remains gentle, although unmistakable. Another feature is a "higher" movement of the Spirit--rather unlike the heartwarming and compelling graces of the first tran-sition (which are usually "deep" and "interior" in quality). It is the awareness of divine mystery operating everywhere, bringing about God's will despite all evidence to the contrary; it is a dis-position to wait for God to reveal the divine will, to expect this and not to be surprised when it comes. It means not to speak until words are given, not to act until one "knows" how the Lord desires to act in the community. These few features may be taken as examples of the higher life (often seen in the lives of the saints). In general, that nothing Septentber-October 1992 689 should prevent God from loving others through my life becomes the central desire of my existence, the main reason for continu-ing to live. It need not, on the other hand, mean that the interior expe-riences of the inner self do not return and are not customary in one who has received unitive graces. It is just that one can no longer identify oneself with them. They are available at times and should be exercised. But they may also be taken away, and one is ready now to let them go. All this is possible because the risen Lord has made his divine presence felt by uplifting one to the level of his own activities in the church, in each person, and in every part of the world. Burning Bush Afire burns outside my bedroom window, October-red euonymus its name. As I look down The blood-red leaves leap up Vivid as living rivulets of flame. Transfixed, ! stand, New-wakened in the early autumn dawn. Then, barefoot, kneel, Obedient, Although no voice is heard. What angel calls me - silent? "Here I am!" I almost cry, Drawn by this shock of unconsuming fire To listen, stricken as Moses, For some name, some quickening word. Therese Lynch csJ 690 Revie'w fbr Religious DAVID E O'CONNOR Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition As we try to read the "signs of the times" and prepare for an unknown future, we should not forget the lessons of the past. We should take note of the cultural, theologi-cal, ecclesial, ideological, and generational influences that have moved our personal and collective lives as religious in certain directions. And we should be alert to the factual changes, adjustments, adaptations, and developments which seem to indicate some of the shapes and forms that religious life may be taking as we approach the third mil-lennium. religious life Recalling the Lessons of History Recent historical scholarship has opened our eyes to the uneven history of religious life--a history filled with crises and chaos, with high points and low? Interestingly, there have been relatively short periods of time when the church and religious life appeared to enjoy some institu-tional tranquillity and stability. More than once the whole concept of religious life seemed doomed to extinction by events out of control. Religious in North America, especially during the first part of the twentieth century preceding the Second Vatican David O'Connor ST teaches at the Washington Theological Union. He is the author of Witness and Service: Questions about Religious Life Today (Paulist Press, 1990). His address is 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Septetttber-October 1992 691 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Council, found themselves in one of those rare stable periods in the church. It was a time when the highest leadership in the Roman Catholic Church, beginning in the late nineteenth century and ending only in the middle of the twentieth, had chosen a defensive and protective position, effectively withdrawing from a changing and modern world which, in fact, was often hostile to it. The Catholic Church centralized itself at the Vatican to a degree unknown until then. Within this same period of time, the Catholic Church in the United States developed and flourished.2 American Catholics were, for the most part, an immigrant population that experi-enced the hostility of the WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) culture. While retaining a fierce loyalty to Rome, they tried to prove they were loyal Americans as well. For them the Roman Catholic Church appeared to be the model of stability and the rock of certitude. Although the worldwide Catholic Church of this period seemed intransigent, it was, in fact, still recovering from the buf-feting of social and historical changes that had rocked it at the end of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth. Following the French Revolution, religious life and many other institutions of the church seemed to be in their death throes. Yet, by the beginning of the twentieth century, it was clear that the church and religious life had recovered their vitality and were experi-encing unprecedented growth. In the 150 years preceding Vatican II, religious life had more than recovered from previous losses. Statistically, its number of members peaked in 1965.3 The post-Vatican II period, through which we are presently living, has been one of immense social and cultural changes. The council fathers thrust the church into the modern world, and fall-out from this movement of the Spirit in the church has occa-sioned a difficult time of transition for all, especially religious in the Western world. The rnove from a church-imposed inflexibil-ity and rigidity of the pre-Vatican II period to a church-initiated reform of religious life in the post-Vatican II period brought about an upheaval that was radical and spectacular in its magni-tude and complexity.4 No one could have imagined the depth and breadth of these changes. Indeed, we are still too close to events to make a true assessment. We will have to leave that to a future generation. Presently, it is still difficult to read the signs of the times because they are so ambiguous. Yet one of the clear lessons 692 Review for Religious of history is that drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. God does speak to us through history. One of the more important lessons of history is that, while religious life appears to be perennial, individual religious insti-tutes are not. Dedication, consecra-tion, and commitment to Jesus and his people are evident in the lives of groups and individuals throughout the history of the church, but the forms these have taken and their specific expression in individual groups, communities, monasteries, and institutes does change. Institutes are like people--they are born, they grow, they live their lives, and even-tually they die.s V~hile monastic groups can sur-vive with a minimum of members, and even decrease to a handful of people in one or two monasteries, apostolic institutes cannot. Apostolic groups frequently respond to spe-cific needs at certain times and in particular places in the life of the church. Once they have achieved their purposes, they tend to fade away or find new life through adaptation and change. In any case, an apostolic group requires many members to fulfill its corpo-rate role and purpose. The institutional life of these religious, all things considered, is much shorter and more tenuous than that of monastic groups. However, some forms of religious life have had the ability to be revitalized over and over again through reform, adaptation, and new expressions. One need only consider the Rule of St. Benedict, which has been adjusted to multiple forms of monastic and quasimonastic life. While individual monasteries or groups of them fade away, new ones are established in other places and times. Each institute has its own life to live. Not a few have seemed to be dying out or even were suppressed, as was the Drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. September-October 1992 693 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Society of Jesus in 1773, only to be given new life and experi-ence spectacular growth. Nevertheless, breakdown and death are probably inevitable for every religious institute. Some may have a very short life and others may live for an unusually long time, just as individual per-sons do. Calamities and misfortunes overtake certain groups. It might be combinations of political and economic or social and religious events which occasion their breakdown and demise. Often these events have nothing to do with the interior vitality of the group. For example, .when pestilence decimated the Western world in the fourteenth century, the mendicant orders were espe-cially ravaged when many members generously ministered to the sick and dying; some orders lost half their membership.6 Time also takes its toll. The life and death of individual com-munities frequently have nothing to do with the spiritual vitality of the members. Often, in fact,'it appears that in periods of decline the membership display many virtues and signs of dedication. Their corporate life has simply come to an end. As death crowns their collective life, other dedicated people often rise up to meet the new challenges confronting the church. Contemporary Influences on Western Religious Life Cultural Factors. The church does not exist in a cultural vacuum, but in the world as it is. We are, at present, living through a period of exceptionally rapid and revolutionary cultural change in an increasingly technological society. Our Western culture has had an immense influence on the attitudes of our people toward freedom, authority, obedience, sexuality, intimacy, and affectiv-ity. Periods of rapid social change promote personal and institu-tional instability and make it extremely difficult for people, especially the young and inexperienced, to make any permanent and unconditional commitment as expected in marriage, the priesthood, or religious life. The high incidence of divorce and remarriage and the many departures from the clergy and reli-gious life coupled with a corresponding drop in vocations dur-ing the last two and a half decades manifest this unfortunate social fact. The postconciliar years also chanced to coincide with "a kind of cultural revolution which led to a break with tradition, a crisis of authority, and indifference toward questions of faith, great 69¢ Review for Religious uncertainty about moral values, and a crisis in the realm of ethics.''7 The whole world seemed caught up in a series of extraor-dinary social and cultural changes. These enormous cultural shifts and their concomitant crisis of meaning forced even the religious who did not leave their communities during these years to change their lives in such a radical way that their communities are now different from the ones they originally entered decades ago.8 The American cultural values of personalism and personal fulfillment, freedom and self-determination, pluralism, democratic self-crit-icism, and egalitarianism and an emphasis on productivity and success have frequently clashed with an older and more rigid reli-gious life.9 In the period before Vatican II, religious life became part of the Catholic ethos and was carried along by its own cogency. It was largely insulated from the broader currents of American cul-ture. This situation, however, could not continue--certainly not for many members who left it after the reforms called for by the council began to take effect,j° Moreover, Catholics are no longer social outsiders in the U.S. culture; they have joined the nation's insiders.II Because of its outsider mentality, the Catholic Church had built its own vast school system, its own hospitals, newspapers, and fraternal and professional societies parallel with everything that was found among the WASP insiders. Large numbers of Catholic men and women joined religious life. It was a natural way for many to obtain an education and take their place in the Catholic society of that time. Now that Catholics are social insid-ers, they are no longer attracted to serve only in church institu-tions, for many options are available to them in the larger society and in the church.12 Also, the present-day phenomenon of the prolongation of adolescence into the early twenties and the consequent delayed adulthood of many young people in our culture is a sociological fact.13 Large numbers of young adults remain dependent upon others and do not assume full responsibility for themselves until, perhaps, they are forced by circumstances to do so later in life. This has had a direct effect upon the vocational and formational problems facing religious communities. The perceptions of young people concerning religious life today are quite different from those of their elders.14 The younger the person, the less he or she perceives religious life as dynamic and effective, and the less attractive it is to him or her. Moreover, Septentber-October 1992 695 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction because the positive perception women religious have of them-selves is not shared in the same degree by those outside religious life, it does not bode well for the replacement of present mem-bership. 15 Most significantly, because of the changed perceptions regarding the value of a celibate lifestyle on the part of so many people in our culture, the continuance of a celibate religious life, as we know it, is highly problematic with regard to the availabil-ity of potential candidates. There are very few people open to considering such a lifestyle, in the opinion of professional observers.16 Therefore, to state that religious life is countercultural in our present society is to assert an all-too-obvious fact. Theological and Ecclesial Factors. Pope John Paul II expressed his own grave concern about the drop in religious vocations when he sent a letter to the bishops of the United States on 3 April 1983. A pontifical commission was established to investigate the matter--dubbed the Quinn Commission because Archbishop John R. Quinn, of San Francisco, was appointed the pontifical dele-gate. 17 This commission made its lengthy report to the pontiff in October 1986 and a shorter one to the U.S. bishops in November 1986.18 The report did affirm many positive developments sucla as the rediscovery of the charisms of many institutes, the deepening of authentic spirituality, a new appreciation of apostolic religious life, a new awareness of the uniqueness of each individual reli-gious, the promotion of a greater participation in the decision-making processes of the institute, a new appreciation of the universality of the church's mission, a growing awareness of the feminine, the development of new constitutions, and new signs of hope through older and more mature vocations.19 It did note, however, that the universal call to holiness of all members of the church made at Vatican II in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (§§ 39-42) affected religious and those who were contemplating entering religious life. This affir-mation of a common vocation to live a full Christian life was inserted in the conciliar document before its treatment of reli-gious life. It effectively undercut the popular misconception that the call to holiness lay primarily in religious life and in the priest-hood, or that one needed to enter them to pursue holiness seri-ously. A clear call to holiness was being made to (and heard by) 696 Review for Religious those in the married and the single life and not just to those liv-ing the celibacy of the religious life and the priesthood. Second, religious women and men took to their hearts the council documents' emphasis on social justice, which expanded upon the social teachings of the Gospel and the popes. This emphasis was reinforced by the personal experience of religious when they encountered social evil and injustice in their efforts to live and preach the Gospel. This experience, however, seemed to some to place apostolic religious in a theological bind between two apparently contrary church expectations: that they live "apart from the world" while they live and minister with an "option for the poor" in a modern world filled with social injustice. Third, the council'g reaffirmation of the need for the lay peo-ple to serve and to minister--to evangelize--in response to their baptismal call had an effect on religious. They became aware of the apostolic call made to all the faithful. The identity of religious can become clouded in periods of theological and ecclesial change. Their sense of direction and their morale are affected. Some religious now see themselves more as lay people. They react negatively to any restriction they per-ceive

Issue 36.6 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis UmversLty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other dountries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Dattiel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1977 Volume 36 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REWZW FOa REL~CIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. (;allen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. My Son's "Hour" by Virginia Ann Gardner, S.S.J.1 who shares via dramatic mono!ogue memories ---of others' contemplations and her own-- in an interview with Mary about 1Sister Virginia Ann resides at 517 East 26th Sty; Erie, PA 16504. I. The Marriage Feast at Cana Now that I think about it, my Son's hour had a special kind of beginning at Cana. Chesterton once said, "There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when he walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied--it was his mirth." That is so true it makes me smile. You would have to admit the gospels show little if any of the Alleluia that Augustine said a Christian should be from head to foot. But the evangelists had so much to tell--and, besides, when they were writing, trying to catch the memory of Jesus in words, they knew little mirth themselves. They knew only urgency as they watched Christians pay the price of Love. Little won-der they record no mirth, no laughter, no sign of human joy. Yet, from the beginning, marriage feasts have been symbols of celebra-tion. One finds few somber wedding guests--ever. And so it was at Cana! We had gone to Cana together--Jesus and his new friends, strong, simple men full of the love of life. Cana was filled with mirth and laughter and the warmness of love shared. 817 I~11~ / Revie,w for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Then, strange that I should have noticed, I read the concern on servant faces: all jugs of wine were empty. It struck a sympathetic chord and I turned to Jesus: "They have no wine," I said. It was just a simple remark--nothing more; the observation of some-thing that would bring embarrassment. It was the way anyone would say, "What a pity!"; or, "Isn't that a shame!"---and wish that you could help. You know, if I were to orchestrate a symphony, I'd compose the Marriage Feast of Cana in a major key of sheer joy--until we knew "there was no wine." But when my son responded, "Woman, what is that to you and to me, my hour is not yet come?"--then, I'd have tympanums clap and cymbals clang; I'd deafen ears with the roar of drums. It would be a haunt-ing interlude--repeated often during the symphony to record in sound the history of an hour that began at Cana. Jesus called me Woman. Strange. Did he mean it as a call to sacrifice --a call to live what women through the years have lived? "She is such a woman," we say--and mean there is nothing small about her; she does not stoop to smallness; she endures. Still, it startled me, much as Gabriel had some thirty years before, with--"Rejoice, O highly favored daughter!" Then Jesus spoke again, "What is that to you and to me?" Was he calling me to translate and respond? Translation revealed everything: He meant: were he to act, the act would be but a first on the way to his hour. "My hour has not yet come," he had said. Someone has called its dis-cernment~ etermining the will of God. At Nazareth I had "wondered and was troubled," I even questioned Gabriel. I did not unders.tand. At Cana there was no wonder, no question. I knew! And I said to the servants: "Do whatever he tells you." Yes, I answered~knowing full well "what it meant to Jesus and to me." We would be parted. I would be alone --and where Jesus was, what he would be doing, I would not know. You see, at Cana we shared discernment: His Father willed that his hour should begin. A mother, someone has said, is a lover--a lover who gives of herself and then pushes the loved .one away, both the child and herself enriched. I loved my son; I had given him myself; I had taught him human ways of talking, walking, laughing. At Cana I pushed that loved one away so that he could tell others what to do. The pushing hurt. But long ago I had vowed: "Be it done unto me according to Thy will." Corita says, "To celebrate is to tell who we are and to say yea cere-moniously." That is what my son and I did together at Cana. I spoke my last recorded words: "Do whatever he tells you." My last recorded words! They began my son's hour. John tells it in his Gospel. You'll read it all in John, and only there. Yes, we had looked forward to Cana. We had not known what the Father would ask. He asked me to be woman; He asked for an hour to be-gin; and on that day my son and I, together, shared a fiat. My Son's "Hour" / 8"19 II. Good Friday Evening Now I knew. Now I understood. Scripture had unfolded. It was like hearing that symphony played--one I had studied the score for but had never heard. "Oh, so that's how it goes! It's lovely and aweful." John had come for me--telling me Jesus' hour had come. I knew it of course. I'd known it since that day in Cana. Lovers aren't aware of time. Days, months, years telescoped. I had said my fiat to this hour thirty-three years ago, but thenwI did not understand. It's like writing something or clinging to an idea you don't understand until later. The unknown is diffi-cult, but it's good for you too. How hard it would have been to live those thirty-three years with what I know now! But at Cana the hour moved both Jesus and me at once. We knew. I did not need to speak for him to hear me, because we were both hearing with our hearts then; and we had both said yes. With Jesus it was always yes. I guess it was with me too---because the Father helped me, the Spirit moved within me--and I said yes ceremoniously to the God of my life. I think the Father saw "that it was good." Since then, since Cana, time has dragged and sped. I've heard so many things about my son. Sometimes what I've heard pierced--and I'd remem-ber Simeon. Sometimes, though, my heart quickened. People would tell me of his life, his compassion--and I'd go back to our Nazareth days, days shared with Joseph. But John came--a humbled "son of thunder." I understood. I loved him for it, and.I went with him. Jesus came stumbling up the road---carry-ing that cross. My heart broke; it broke. But even then I understood. You don't live trusting all those years without the courage to be strong. Then Jesus saw me. I extended no veil. I did not weep. I gave him all I could. His Father, my Father, erased from my eyes all pain. Once again, I did not have to speak for him to hear me: "It's all right, Jesus; no, don't worry about me. Your hour has come. I understand." His glance meeting mine spoke too. It was almost as though he tried to smile, and console me, saying, "It's not bad, not bad at all. Don't worry, Mother." Role pl~ying? You call that role playing? Putting on a masque? No, not at all. Me? I call it gift--my last gift to him. My son, who had emptied himself to take on the masque of humanity, would understand. Emptied him-self. I'm told that is the way Paul wrote it. I like the way another has put it: "Poured himself out." That is how I see his hour that started at Cana and became a free accepted death-act on Calvary. Hearing iron strike iron was such a familiar sound to me! My husband was a carpenter and he'd taught my Son. Part of the price of that hour was the giving up of sounds, sounds that brought back "homey" memories. Strength was God's gift to me; but because he is all knowing, and because he is everything my Son had revealed, I knew he'd understand that ever since that hour, I've been very sensitive to iron striking iron. ~i20 Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Three hours is not so long a time. It took us longer to get to Bethlehem --and much longer to Egypt---but no time was longer in all my life than those three Friday-hours. His hour was never so long in coming. My heart still shares that pain as I watch loved ones die--loved ones am(~ng my chil-dren now on earth. My children? Yes, my children. During my son's hour he gave me as Mother to all children of all time and all places. Strange! I had given birth to Jesus for one reason: so that he might be shared with all people of all time and all places. In the greatest hour of that sharing, he too shared me-- with John, and in John, you. At Cana, I spoke my last recorded words, "Do whatever he tells you." In one of my Son's last words, he tells you to take me as your Mother. His hour had come and he gave up~no---he didn't give up, he poured out his Spirit. It was that Spirit that had filled me years ago--and once again--this time eternally, I prayed my fiat and you became my Spirit-child. Now share your Brother's hour caught eternally in time. His hour is here! With him, pour yoursel[ out. III. Holy Saturday "Great will be his dignity." I had pondered those words in my heart for thirty-three years: while arranging the straw in the stable-manager; while fleeing in fear to Egypt; as I stood before the prophet Simeon. They came back with new poignancy during the donkey-pageantry in Jerusalem--and five days later when I saw Jesus' bloodied eyes neath his thorned-crown. Then, as I prepared his bruised body for burial, as I washed his wounds, and Joseph (how good his name was Joseph!) helped me with the linen shroud, I thought of them again. It would have been easy to be cynical but I had watched my son die; and I heard him forgive his crucifiers. Yes, I had heard him cry, "Father, forgive." And I heard him call me Woman. Could the dignity he called me to in that name ever match the dignity of his forgiving love? My sagging shoulders had straightened and John had helped me back to the Upper Room. On our way, John and I said the first Stations--back-wards. I made John show me the Praetorium and take me to Gethesmane. John cried, remembering his sleep. And he told me all my Son had said and done in the upper chamber. It was not the time to speak to him of symphony, but I tried to comfort John; he was young and the day had been agony for him, I knew. Then I withdrew. I cried my tears alone. The Father watched and con-soled me. Jesus had wept at Lazarus' tomb; and Jesus had said just a few hours earlier: "Who sees me, sees the Father." Tears, I knew, were some-thing the Father understood. I let them come. What had happened to my mother-hope? "Great would be his dignity. He will be called Son of the Most High. He will rule forever in a reign My Son's "Hour" / 821 without end." Gabriel had told me that. It was a message from the Father. Let me tell you--that night there was within me a whisper of despair, Was it, I wondered, a whisper my son knew too when I heard him call: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Faith is not faith, we're told, until it has been tested. That night, my faith knew its greatest test. And yet something still stirred within me--and I endured. I waited through that long, long vigil--clinging hard to mother-hope and to the patience I had learned from waiting for his hour. I knew--no, I did not know; I hoped that his hour had not ended. I fell asleep saying, "Lord, I believe; help . . . help thou my unbelief." IV. Resurrection If "appearing" means "closeness," there was no need for my Risen Son to come to me. Together or apart-~I live in him and know his closeness. The time after Cana had taught me that. Then, I had thought Jesus' mission would ask for separation--a typical human fear, I know---but the Father was good. Just as the Incarnation had never separated Son from Father, so Jesus' leaving home kept us still united. With him, I was doing the Father's will, and the Father asked that I share him with the world. I shared, and lost nothing. Jesus had said the one who best does the will of his Father--is his mother and father and sister and brother. People pitied me when he said that. They needn't. He was really saying I was more than mother to Jesus. His Father willed it so and I accepted that will. Thomas Merton, in writing about me, once explained how I felt, "I was glad because He was glad and for no other reason." I say all this so you'll understand: it was not necessary for my Risen Son to appear to me. All that mattered was that I believed and he knew I did. Ignatius Loyola had loved me, so he insisted that Jesus appeared to me first. I never admitted that--even to Ignatius; nor shall I admit it to you. Yes, you like the poem that tells I had gathered herbs and had them ready for Jesus' Easter breakfast. You like to think that, while apostles hud-dled in fear, while women wondered "who will roll back the stone," and Magdalen searched the garden--I was calmly fixing those herbs. I'm sorry. That is like a little jewel---a pretty thought. I cannot say it's more. John, whom Jesus had given me as son, was exhausted when he'd finished his memories of Jesus. '"There are still many other things that Jesus did," he wrote, admitting the world would not have books enough to record them. Some things must wait 'til heaven-~else why have faith? I say, then, to you--perhaps I saw my risen son on Easter; perhaps, as it will be for you, that vision came only ~at death. It matters not. The important thing is Christ had died; Christ is risen. I believed and, so, my child, must you. I promise though, that sometime when we meet in heaven, we'll talk about this if you want. But then I doubt if it will matter. You'll Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 understand when your believing is no longer necessary, for Christ will come again. Wo Dialogue with Mary at 55-~ I was not so old the day Christ died So young I was the night I gave him birth. But when they pulled that spear from out his side No one was quite so old on all this earth. You remember that poem, do you? It's true--I was older at 55. Mothers share the lives of their children and my Child had become sin. I think I can say he had become the sin of all my children; he had taken on himself your sin--with that of all the others. Sin ages one. Faith on Good Friday didn't save me from feeling the weight of all those sins. And with Jesus, I forgave all those engaged in sin's tragedy until the end of time. I forgave y6u--and loved you in my Son. But all this took its toll. Yes, I was older at 55. The death-resurrection act was almost ten years old then. John and I shared a home and much more besides. He had begun his Gospel and he'd leave parts with me when he. went on his journeys. I would read them in the quiet evenings pondering each word in my heart; it would take me weeks to read my son's "last discourse." All the apostles would come to see me--come home, tired, from their journeys. Luke came too--our cousin, constantly asking questions about the early life of Jesus. I loved to share my memories. They had become very precious to me---forming a tapestry now--and even Golgotha brought peace. I had lived my own "healing of memories." Things were different after Pentecost. The Holy Spirit that had come upon me long years ago came to all the apostles--filling them with the Love that had given me the courage of my years. All minutes were precious to me but when one of the apostles would return, and I'd send word to the neighbors, and we'd break bread together, keeping my son's new Covenant --then, I find it hard to tell you what I knew. I don't mean that I didn't feel his Spirit with me always. It was just that I'd experience my pre-Bethlehem days again. Jesus was within me--no longer an unborn infant, but my mature son--and we'd share together all we once did not understand. That knowledge and that wisdom were caught in heartbeats of Love. Then I'd be ready to go to the well again and listen to the gossip of the women. Christians, they would say, "are changing the face of the earth." 2The author herselt' is 55. My Son's'",Hour" / 823 Some were not eager for that change. It exacted a heavy toll, I know. But filled with the Spirit the Father sent me one spring evening--and my risen son sent to the whole world--I could look at each woman with such love that she too could respond with openness to that Spirit. You would have liked my life at 55. Did I long for heaven? I longed, my child, only to do God's will. If ever the Father had been very fond of anyone, he'd been fond of me. I wanted to return that fondness--without anxiety. The Trinity lived within me. I was content to do the Father's will. I don't mean that I didn't feel the cross of separation. I was human-- very human, and I longed for reunion with my parents, with Elizabeth, with Joseph. But it was comforting to know they were all with God. We'd be together again--all of us in his good time and that would mean for eternity. And I said once more to the Father; Behold the handmaid of the Lord Be it done unto me according to your will. Amen! .O Till I Begin I did not understand till I had begun to know. I did not find You, You found me; a small and melancholy st6ne to be carried in Your pocket, till I begin to wear, to shine, till I am brushed to a smooth and faultless final core. Stephanie E. WeIler 1030 East Washington St. Iowa City, lowa 52240 Dread (the Dark Night) and Christian Transformation Leslie Lund Miss Lund is presently working on her thesis to complete her work towards an M.A. degree in Religious Studies at Gonzaga University in Washington; her interest is in spirituality. She resides at E. 945 Nora, 4~4; Spokane, WA 99207. It is difficult to be living an authentic, deep Christian life without shortly running up against the cross, the "dark night" (St. John of the Cross), the "cloud of unknowing" (14th-century anonymous Christian mystic), or "diminishment" (Teilhard de Chardin). I will lump all such terms, and the experience they attempt to express, under the catch-all word, dread. These elements of suffering and diminishment (dread, as we may now call it) are not peculiar to Christianity, and neither is mystical experience itself. Such experiences are not in themselves a good. Dread is not to be sought for its own sake. We are not stoics or modern existentialists or Buddhists --but Christians--and this article cannot be read outside the total Christian perspective. Christians may not affirm or emphasize the negative aspects of spiritual growth to the exclusion of ultimate Christian hope, fulfillment, the restoration of all things in Christ. It is my hope, lest distortion arise, that this focus will be kept clearly in mind throughout the article until its final elaboration in the concluding pages. The Paschal Mystery is diminishment, yes, but it is transfiguration. It is the cloud, but it is truth and light. It is the dark night of the soul, but it is union. It is the cross, but it is, ultimately, the resurrection. Though there may be a number of different levels or nuances to dread, in this paper I will be dealing with a very specific understanding of it. The focus will be on religious dread, though to accentuate its particular qualities 824 Dread and Christian Transformation I Will at first show religious dread in counterdistinction to an existentialist conception of dread. There are a variety of states of dread, even within the religious context, so to further narrow the topic, this article will concern itself with the religious dread experienced in serious prayer (desert prayer or contemplative prayer-~-the "dark night of the soul" in John of the Cross). For a representative understanding of this state of dread I will use the l~anguage and thought of a "classical" contemplative, the author of The Cloud of Unknowing, and also of a modern contemplative, Thomas Merton (from his book, Contemplative Prayer, in which the topic of dread is dis-cussed in some depth). Dread Dread is a basic, and common, human experience, and as such, it is a theme that recurs in literature, psychology, philosophy and theology. For the philosopher Kierkegaard, dread could also be set within a religious context. But even so, generically it can be described as a condition or state of being that comes before and precipitates a choice (leap) from one period of life to another. Dread, then, involves the awful possibility of freedom, for it forces the choice for or against new realities or potentialities. This state of freedom and new choices is recognized as very painful by existentialist philosophers, but Kierkegaard believed one could be delivered from it by making a leap, a commitment to the "objective uncertainty." The leap is the leap of faith.1 The choice is painful because it is made in regard to the unknown and undeterminable, and hence to what is both attractive and fascinating, but revolting and frightening. It is a very uncomfortable sit-uation, marking the end of self-complacency and the beginning of some-thing new. Let us further define dread. Christians, along with existentialists, can describe it as a state of anguish, alienation, and insecurity. It also includes a recognition of the limits of reason (the experience of "absurdity" for the existentialist), though for the Christian this does not therefore imply that what is is meaningless, but rather, that the meaning escapes the power of haman reason, and lies beyond the self in the.transcendent mystery of God. However, religious dread includes attributes or nuances beyond "sec-ular" dread. It includes for the Christian also the awareness of sinfulness, wandering, exile, Iostness (Exodus themes). This state Merton describes as ". death--a kind of descent into our own nothingness, a recognition of helplessness, frustration, infidelity, confusion, ignorance.''~ The person can experience an acute, sense of his own uselessness and worthlessness. This experience and awareness of the self is particularly painful, though for tThe similarity of this secular view of dread with our religious dread, and what it means in a Christian context will come Clear, hopefully, a little later. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Garden City: Doubleday, 1969), p. 34. ~196 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 the Christian this pain does not drive him to self-sufficiency in setting up the self as the center of its universe, but on the contrary, pushes him towards God as the center and meaning of his being. The author of The Cloud of Unknowing makes this statement about the experience of nothingness, self and sinfulness: Then will come a time when he recognizes in that nothingness no particular s'in but only the lump of sin itself which, though but a formless mass, is none other than himself; he sees that in himself it is the root and pain of original sin.a ; Rephrased for 6ur own time we might call this an understanding of the experience of self-worship, with the accompanying experience of this false self as the root of sin, darkness, emptiness and alienation. Our anonymous author also wrote that to feel one's own existence, which is'the content of our modern word "dread," is the greatest suffering possible. ". he alone understands the deep universal reason for sorrow who ex.periences that he is."4 It is more terrible than any other type or level Of experienced isolation and separation. Within the experience itself often comes the realization that this must be what hell is like. And with it also comes the temptation to despair at ever being healed or delivered from it and froha the burden of self. That we are as we are (separated existence) is the source of our deep anguish. The illusion that brings the agony is the failure to experience God in one's own being. Instead, one experiences his .being apart from God. For as often as he would have a true knowing and feeling of God in purity of spirit ¯. and then feels that he cannot--for he constantly finds his knowing and feeling as it were occupied and filled with h foul, stinking lump of himself., he almost despairs for the sorrow that he feels, weeping, lamenting, writhing, and blaming himself. In a word, he feels the burden of himself so tragically that he no longer cares about himself if only he can love God? This is the fundamental cause of this type of dread, though there are other corollaries and ramifications. The alienation that causes the anguish is more than a sense of being a useless, unnecessary, ephemeral being, and includes a profound experience of being separated from God, all men, and even from the self. This gives rise to acute feelings of insecurity, for not only can we not control God, we are even powerless to control or to be reconciled to ourselves. We discover we have nothing and are nothing by ourselves. This period of dread is a time when faith is seriously challenged (as is everything that has ultimate value and meaning in the Christian's life). The fear is great that faith will be lost or abandoned, and that the see,rningly absurd and meaningless, or even despair, will be embraced instead. The aThe Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling, ed. by William Johnston (Garden City: Doubleday, 1973), p. 137. 41bid., p. 103. 5lbid., p. 104. Dread and Christian Transformation entire process of dread is a crucible of honesty, where truth is almost experienced as the enemy because of the pain it causes. One sees too clearly his own unfaithfulness and dishonesty in regard to Truth, especially as it involves the truth of his own life. The existentialists coined the phrase "bad faith" which is descriptive of the awareness that one is capable of, or has been living his life untruthfully, that one has not been true to God, to his fellow man or even to himself. One perceives that he may have been living contrary to the truth of his own call or condition. Indeed, truth itself is questioned. Old ideals and values lose their certainty. There is the suspicion that one may have set himself up as the standard of truth, or there is the temptation to do so if truth is not so certain for him. Deep down, far back in the mind there are demands or calls or possi-bilities that are only dimly and faintly recognized. Failure to respond to, or even examine them, haunts and produces a sense of failure and guilt. Somewhere there is a stubborn, defiant refusal to be all one can be. Every-thing feels illusory and slippery, and out of control, and this gives rise to panic. We "want out," we want to escape the condition, but we do not know what we want instead or where to go. The experience of rebellion and anger are overwhelming at times. We experience, too, a deep hatred for God and for ourselves. God is like a "monkey on our back"--an ever constant and annoying affliction that we cannot get rid of, Like Jeremiah we feel angry at being tricked and duped (20:7). This kind of relatedness to God is not at all what we expected. The spiritual understandings and com-forts of the past have vanished. We are comfortless. To pray is nearly impossible, if not impossible. Gone will be your new fervor, but gone, too, your ability to meditate as you had long done before. What then? You will feel as if you had fallen somewhere between the two ways having neither, yet grappling'for both.6 Not prayer, or mass, or confession, or any fulfillment of the "law" can take the dread away, or bridge the gap between God and the false self. The schism between this self and all that is seems infinite. The self is seen as bankrupt and barren, and the ha~-dness of heart, selfishness, and self-cen-teredness make us recoil in disgust and near despair. "I am gall, I am heartburn, God's most deep decree. Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me.''7 But still there is the clinging to the illusory false self for fear that if we let go of even that miserable possession we will have nothing and be nothing. God could not be so audacious as to demand that from us! Even though it is seen that this clinging to the false self causes our spiritual 6lbid., p. 143. 7Gerard Manley Hopkins, Poems and Prose of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1963), p. 62. 1~21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 "sickness" and estrangement between God and self, still the all important, confused "I" remains th~ center of worship, and without the grace of God it can never be otherwise. The alienation is truly terrible, for it is not estrangement from the abstract, transcendent God of the philosophers, but is estrangement with the All and the ground of our own being. This point being re~iched in the ¯ dread of contemplative prayer, nothing is more terrible than the suffering of emptiness at the prospect of living without God, though the ambivalence of attraction and fear is again experienced--the proverbial "I can't live with him, and I can't live without him." At this point comes the temptation to believe that not even God can be what is needed, that not even he can fill the void, indeed, that he could not be the revelation of love of Jesus, but is instead, uncaring and disfant. "Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend, how wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost?.-8 But there is a worse temptation. Maybe He does not exist at all;. and everything is meaningless. Though at first the struggle may be fierce and intense, strug-gling to fight back the chaos, finally one ". loses even the power to struggle._ _He feels himself ready to sink and drown in doubt and despair."9 Transformation While a description of dread needed to be set fo~-th, let us be reminded that this diminishment and apparently disintegrative condition is not the total picture, Much more is happening simultaneously. Does this most horrible of human experiences have a positive value for Christians? What is th,.e. "much more" that is happening? At bottom, it is all the mystery of the transforming cross, and since Christians are used to paradox, it should not be surprising that those who have come through dread speak of it as a "blessed gift." "God in his mercy protects the contemplative in this way, though some foolish neophytes will think he has turned enemy to them.''1° There are several approaches that can be taken in response to the process of dread. One can insulate himself from it by retreating into illu-sions of the world,, getting involved in society's concerns and structures, or in general, by just keeping busy and blocking out any interiority. Or, as many are saying today, one can escape it by "going through it." Thomas Merton wrote that the "chief service of the monk was not only silence, listening, and questioning, but was also b~ing open and exposed to dread."~ Those who are serious about their prayer and faith life, and gradual transformation into Christ, face, and even embrace, the crucible of dread, Slbid., p. 67. 9Merton, op. cit., p. 99. ~°The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 145. ~Merton, op. cit., p. 25. Dread and Christian Transformation / 829 and allow themselves to experience it totally. This is not done stoically. It is not done lightly. There is resistance, for Christians are not masochists; they always struggle against evil. It is the "If it is possible let this cup pass--not my will, but Yours" prayer of Jesus. Even the decision to go through this process is a mystery, and is often not even articulated at the conscious level. There is the sense of continually "letting go" and sub-mitring to the process and moving in the darkness and uncertainty, but if the question were put, "Why are you doing this?" probably no satisfactory answer could be given. This should not be a worry, and can be taken as a sign that it is an authentic transforming process, for it is not something we do to ourselves, rather it is something done to us with which we cooperate. It is the desert experience of the young Israel. Nothing is certain. Help, if it comes at all, comes only at the eleventh hour, barely in the nick of time. It is a period of trials and collapses. But it is the fruitful time of formation (as it was for Israel) and, it was, as it still is, the movement towards the Promised Land. There does not seem to be much of a choice once the process has started. It appears that God has forced us into a radical decision. (In The Book of Revelation he spits out the lukewarm.) We must make a choice. We are forced (as our existentialist writer, Kierkegaard, observed we would be). This makes us angry. We want to sit in the middle, but must choose the dread with its seemingly horrible emptiness and darkness (though we somehow s.uspect: accompanying growth and maturity) or withdraw and drop out of the process, letting ourselves become trapped in our own illusions and immaturity. Our Catholic tradition has always placed a value on suffering (more often than not a distorted value) and somewhere along the way we have all heard that this diminishment is a necessary factor in spiritual growth. If it is the authentic process, and not a pseudo one that we bring or put on ourselves, this can be so, and our faith can be deepened. Merton must be read in context, but he also puts it this way, ". full maturity of the spiritual life cannot be reached unless we first pass through the dread, anguish, trouble, and fear that accompany the inner crisis of spiritual death, where we abandon attachment to our exterior self and surrender completely to Christ.''12 Attributes of Transformation It is time to take up a description of the attributes that the transformation process of dread can accomplish. It brings about many spiritual benefits and new dispositions. Since it threatens faith, it also changes it and deepens it. The doubt and despair serve to purify faith and destroy some of the more human elements of it (i.e., the need for certainty, and a correspondence to t2lbid., p.110. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 one's way of looking at reality, etc.). It is not what it was before. It takes on new dimensions and powers. We can finally experience the very "dearest freshness deep down" of things that Hopkins wrote of in his poem "God's Grandeur." Some time during the process of dread we become more comfortable with it, i.e., with the uncertainty, darkness and emptiness. The dread has moved us mysteriously beyond the need for consolations or gratification of immediate desires, or need to control what is. The process has the power to radically alter attitudes, and once the person has been emptied and humbled through this process that is beyond his control, he can be filled with Christ-like attitudes. His stance before God can include such attributes as opennes, s, pliableness, purity of heart, dependence, defenselessness, emptiness, hopefulness, truthfulness and gratitude. One becomes receptive to the fullness of God through the process. As was mentioned earlier, it is definitely not a time to be trying to regain self-possession, nor is it a time to be making new resolutions. However, it is a time of surrender and a time of letting go of the control and direction of one's life, and of giving it trustingly into the hands of the Lord who has been in charge of the process all ~along. It is the moment to depend only on him and his grace. Again, the experience of dread forces honesty.'It makes us evaluate our commitments and motives and beliefs at a much deeper level. It surfaces questions to ask ourselves that we could not have asked before. It is a blessed time when we come to encounter our real selves, to get to know that person we truly are. It also destroys false conceptions of God, and reveals him as he is in himself. The authentic process reveals sham and posturing. It gets us down to rock bottom. It does not allow hypocrisy, and false religiosity. It makes clear our illusions, idolatries and addictions. It is the experience of being the broken clay pot, for it takes awhy our sense of self-possession or assurance. And though we can often be worried that the dread takes us only more deeply into ourselves, or gets us caught up in the trap of constantly taking our own emotional and spiritual pulses, in the end, the process takes us out of ourselves. The experience, in dread, of alienation becomes trans-formed into a great recognition, need and desire for reconciliation and union with God and our fellow man. It is said that God tests those he loves. This is scarcely of any comfort in the darkest hours of dread, and it is in no way adequate for describing the mystery of the process, but there is some truth to it. The process is a gift of God's enigmatic mercy, and it is God's work, not ours. (In the more traditional vocabulary it is known as passive purification.) Only the false self is destroyed and emptied, but to make room for the Christ-self. Re-men~ ber, we are not masochists or stoics or manicheans--but Christians, for whom each individual, including the self, is precious, not evil. But the true Christ-self cannot be happy or full apart from God, and it is the process Dread and Christian Transformation of dread that intensifies and deepens this realization. The Paschal Mystery is the dialectic that accomplishes this. Thomas Merton writes, This alternation of darkness and light can constitute a kind of dialogue between the Christian and God, a dialectic that brings us deeper and deeper to the conviction that God is our all. By such alternations we grow in detachment and in hope.~3 Our anonymous writer of The Cloud of Unknowing teaches that this is God's way of preparing, educating, and forming us through the alternation of hiS presence and absence. "As often as he goes, he will come back. And if you will suffer itall with gentle love, ea+h coming will be more marvelous and more joyful than the last.''14 In the process, doubt becomes faith. Despair becomes hope. The chaos and confusion become liberating and freeing. Hatred and anger mellow to gratitude and love. Rebellion becomes surrender. Peace comes in the com-mitment of the self to the loving will of God, and in the death of the false self comes the resurrection of the new Christ-self. The language and purpose of contemplative ~lread has a Pauline cast to it. The dread becomes the process in which the incomplete, false self dies so that the true self can come to be. It is "terrible" as the author of The Cloud of Unknowing calls it, but it is the work of love, nonetheless. The false old self dies, but this can be a joyous death for the Christian, for it is really the fulness of being. Therefusal to participate in this "work of love" results in a self that remains separated and isolated from the ground of its be!ng, God. To choose the destruction of the false self is necessary for the life of the true, resurrected self. It is to reject the illusions of the idolatry of the self. It is to truly believe at last that one is only himself when he is in union with God. "This simple awareness of my being is all I desire, even though it must bring with it the painful burden of self and make my heart break with weeping because I experience only self and not God. I prefer it with its pain., for this suffering will set me on fire with the loving desire to experience God as he really is.''15 Thus the author of The Cloud of Unknowing realizes that the suffering he.endures is really not hell at all "but his purgatory,.''16 He instructs the reader to not be troubled if his emotions or imagination tempt him to give up, for the prize is near. He asks simpl3i that a gift of the self be made as it is, to God as he is. Further, he counseis that there is no need, no matter ho.w it seems, for fear or panic or discoiaragement. His understanding is that it is a time to suffer humbly, waiting patiently in trust. For we do not know what is best for ourselves, but God, in his love and mercy, uses dread to bring us to his fuiness. God is audacious for us, and the process is nothing less than a total metamorphosis. "Now you are on what I might call a sort ~albid., p. 35. t4The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 184. 151bid., p. 174. ~lbid., p. 137. ~132 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 of spiritual ocean, in voyage from the rife of the flesh to the life in the spirit."~7 Though the author of The Cloud of Unknowing refers to this dread as a "hell of purgatory," a twelfth-century Cistercian monk, Isaac of Stella, refers .to it as a "hell of mercy." This is an even more powerful and rich notion. Here I quote the passage surrounding the idea of the "hell of mercy," for it very much embodies the reason and purpose of dread, that is, to destroy the false self, so that the Christ-self can be resurrected, and receive God himself. It also makes clear the concept of purification, not as punishment, but as a gift and work of Love. This passage must be read in the context of the total Christian dimension of diminishment and restora-tion, of cross but resurrection. It is too powerful and beautiful to para-phrase, so I leave it as it was written: "So let us be cruel and harsh for ourselves. I mean for the exterior man, so that we not offend the judge of both the interior and exterior man. If we accuse ourselves in all truth; if we judge ourselves with severity; if we condemn ourselves in harshness, we will not have to fear another accuser; nor will we have to be afraid to meet or confront another judge, or to have to endure or submit ourselves to another chastiser. What do we look for--pleasure or rest? We are on the cross. Or rather, we were in the world; we are in hell-- but a hell of mercy, not of wrath; we shall be in heaven. In the world, we sinned; here, we make atonement; there, we shall rest. There, we were in pleasures; here, in pain and tribulation; there, we will be in glory. There, we were in the dirt; here, we are in purification; there, we shall be in peace. "So let the Father be the Father of our souls and the chastiser of our bodies. Be he the Father of the Son of God in us. Be he the one who feeds and nourishes, the pedagogue and teacher, as long as childhood lasts, for him who i~ the future heir, and who as son, will dwell in his house forever. Be he for the son of man (man) theone who bruises and who humiliates, the one who betrays and seduces, the one who takes everything away, the one who crucifies and buries. If he neglects to act this way towards us, let us be ourselves the murderers of the son of man (man), but feeders and nurturers of the Son of God within us, so that he grow and become un-surpassed, or, as the apostle says, until Christ is formed in us, and we attain the perfect man in the fullness of Christ, who with the Father and Spirit reigns forever.''~8 In this same vein, though.from a different age and manner of expression, Thomas Merton also sums up the real value of dread, "The purpose of the dark night., is not simply to punish and afflict the heart of man, but to liberate, to purify and to eialighten in perfect love. The way that leads through dread goes not to despair but to perfect joy, not to hell but to heaven."19 171bid., p. 184. 181saac de L'Etoile, Sermons (Paris, 1974). pp. 148, 150, 152. ~aMerton, op. cit., p. 110. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality Thomas Dubay, S.M. Father Dubay, well known to our readers, presently devotes his time to lectures, retreats and chapter consultations for religious and priests. He resides at the Marist Administration Center; 4408 8th St., N.E.; Washington, DC 20017. No finite reality is adequately understood except in terms of its context. Even the God of revelation presents himself in Scripture in the context of a created world. The individual person is understood against the back-ground of his family, and social problems are evaluated in terms of the milieu in which they occur. A sentence is grasped only within its paragraph and the paragraph within the entire article. The classical example of this truth is the biblical statement, "there is no God." This is understood only with the words that precede it: "the fool says in his heart that . " Celibate friendship can be understood only in terms of a complete pic-ture of the raison d'6tre of celibate dedication. To discuss this way of life without a previous consideration of its primary orientation (which can be known only from Revelation) is to present a truncated account, almost necessarily an illusory account. The Usual Explanation The popular explanation of friendship in religious life is likely to begin with our modern and improved understanding of human sexuality. It goes on to say that while there was in bygone days an undue repression both of the reality and its open discussion, we now see a positive worth beyond that of procreation and we freely share our views about the matter. This may be followed by the basically favorable view of sex that we find in the Bi-ble-- even though anything approaching an adequate discussion of virginity 1~34 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 in the New Testament is omitted. At this point we arb likely to meet a disapproving look into the patristic and medieval literatures. Next the writer or speaker may direct attention to contemporary theories of sexuality as they may be applied to the celibate condition. Little or no attention is given to the revealed context of consecrated virginity. Instead we may find a mixture of undoubted truths ("the two sexes are complementary") with less secure statements (physical signs of affection [no limits mentioned] are normal between celibates) and even clearly .false ones ("there is no vocation to celibacy, only that to Christian life"). The legitimacy of celibate friendship is then supported and illustrated by the classical examples of Jordan and Diana, Catherine and Raymond, Jane and Francis. In this usual explanation there will be words of caution, for not anything at all is acceptable behavior. Yet the limits are not clear and some people carry away from the discussion the impression that occasional serious sin ought not to disturb the two friendsunduly, that such is the price of an enriching relationship. Celibate men and women need to mature in their relationships so that they can "handle" their emotional reactions. Religious and priests differ, of course, intheir evaluations of this typical discussion of celibate friendships. Some are highly critical, others are favorably impressed. My own reactions are mixed. Ican identify with some of the ideas in these presentations, but I also find serious shortcomings. There is often a lack of theological accuracy and of a realistic assessment of the human situation. There may be insufficient contact with the biblical word and, especially, there is no adequate context. Celibate friendships are seen as though celibacy itself were chiefly a matter of interhuman rela-tionships and apostolic freedom. Here, as elsewhere in human life, faulty premises yield faulty conclusions. The Celibate Context As a dedicated ~vay of life, a permanent ideal embraced for the King-dom, consecrated virginity/celibacy~ appears for the first time.on the face of the earth in the persons of Mary and her Son. It is a 'theological ~eality in the etymological sense of that word: its meaning is found only in God and it can be known only from his lips. Although they may be helpful in an ancillary way, psychology and sociology of themselves know nothing of consecrated celibacy. The celibate is grasped by the Lord God in a manner so radically new that his whole life undergoes a basic reorientation. All men and women are to be oriented toward God as their raison d'etre, but most reach him q shall use the two terms interchangeably even though strictly speaking they do differ. In every case the adjective, consecrated or dedicated, is supposed. Virginity is the preferred biblical term, while celibacy enjoys common modern usage. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality through the intimate and human sharing called marriage. The celibate on the other hand omits this sharing in order to respond to another more deeply intimate and divine sharing. Even one who may not be able to see the ¯ significance of these profoundly mysterious words can readily perceive their fundamental radicality. It is this fundamental radicality that must be grasped before we can understand what friendship should and should not be between celibate persons of the same or diverse sexes. Until we know how these persons relate to God we do not grasp how they relate to one another. Without this context, discussions of friendship are not likely to be on a much more elevated level than those of the syndicated advice columns found in the daily newspaper. Virginity, a Privileged Sphere of the Sacred Virginity is a vocation, a new vocation, a privileged vocation. To ap-preciate this fact we must refresh out understanding of the biblical concept ofqadosh, the holy, the sacred. We moderns tend to equate the word, holy, with virtuous. For us the holy person is the morally good person: patient, chaste, gentle, honest. For the ancient Hebrew, ttie "holy" is the set-apart person or thing. One was consecrated, holy, not primarily because he was virtuous (though that would be supposed), but because he was reserved for the service of the Lord God. All holiness derives from the utterly holy One. God is totally trans-cendent, totally other, even though entirely immanent in his creation. One becomes holy in this sense when he approaches the burning otherness of the Lord, when he is therefore set apart from the ordinary, the everyday, the merely finite. God's people, for example, are a holy people because they are selected from all the nations of the earth and set apart for him. This is the sense of 1 P 2:9: "You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart to sing the praises of God who called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light." Continence was practiced in the old dispensation before a priest par-ticipated in the temple liturgy or soldiers went off to the holy war (which shared something of a liturgical enterprise), not because sexual relations in marriage were bad, but because they were of the humdrum, ordinary life. Sexual intercourse was avoided at these times because it was of t, his world, whereas the priest or soldier was to enter the sacred sphere of Yahweh. He was to engage in something qadosh, holy,set apart, and thus he prepared himself by removing himself from the everyday occupations of marriage and daily life. When ther(fore, St. Paul speaks of the virgin as being holy in body and spirit he is not talking first of all of her moral goodness, though that is not excluded. He is saying that she, unlike the married woman or man, is set apart for the sacred sphere of the Lord God. As a virgin she need not be concerned with the dozens of duties that are the normal round for a wife 836 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 who cares for husband, children, household. She can give "undivided attention to the Lord" insofar as she is not burdened with the concern for this world that is necessarily entailed in familial duties and sexual relations. By calling the virgin holy, qadosh, St. Paul is not saying that she is virtuous while the married woman is not. Both are to be morally good. The dif-ference is that, as married, the one lives in the sphere of this world, while the other lives in the sphere of the Lord. This language and thought pattern are expressed by Jesus himself in his priestly prayer at the Last Supper. He says that neither he nor his select disciples are of this world (Jn 17:14, 16). He "consecrates" himself, makes himself holy, set apart, so that they too may be set apart in the truth (Jn 17:19). Jesus belongs to the privileged sphere of the Father in a preeminent way. He is reserved for the Father alone and so he declined an earthly marriage. His food was to do the will of the Father and nothing else (Jn 4:34). He could not have given the attention to this world that marriage requires. The celibate is celibate precisely as Jesus was and for the same reasons. The celibate, the virgin is a man or woman who, while living on planet earth and involved with its joys and sorrows, its hopes and burdens, is none-theless a person set apart. He belongs to the sphere of the transcendent, which is the sphere of the infinite, the other, the Lord God. This is one reason magisterial documents indicate that the primary orientation of re-ligious life is not engagement in an external apostolate but rather prayer, penance, gospel example.2 The religious vows afford a freedom for uni-versal love and apostolic involvement, yes, but that freedom is second to a prior freedom for a direct love-prayer relationship to God himself. The first commandment remains first, and the second remains second. Celibacy, an Excluding Fullness3 Celibacy for the kingdom (the only type we envision here) is not first of all non-marriage. It is a fullness in its own right. In a similar manner the earthly marriage of Susan to Philip is not first of all a non-marriage to Robert or William. A religious or priest does not see his consecration at all ade-quately until it appears as a positive fullness in its own right. The person with the celibate charism has been grasped by the Lord for a special, direct relationship. God takes the initiative and so orientates this person that he (she) "cannot" give a marital attention to another human being. The authentically married person experiences a similar "cannot" in relation to others than his spouse. The married man could physically attempt marriage to another woman than his wife but it would do violence to his being. The ~See Christus Dominus #33 and Renovationis causam, 4~2. aA more complete treatment of this section may be found in my article, "Celibacy As Full-ness," REWEW VOR REL~C~Ot~S, January, 1975, pp. 88-100. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / 83? celibate could likewise attempt marriage but it would do violence to his person. God so captures the genuine virgin that she cannot but focus her being on the Lord's affairs and give him her undivided attention. In spiritual direction of religious one sees instances where this cannot is completely obvious. Virginity/celibacy is an exclusive God-orientation, a focusing on "the one thing," a fullness in its own right. From this positive reality flows the negative, the non-marriage. The healthy celibate appreciates and values the beauty, attractiveness, goodnesses of the opposite sex, but he appreciates and values even more the immeasurably greater beauty, attractiveness and goodness of God himself. The virginal heart is a large heart, a heart so large that earthly marriage cannot fill it. Erroneous Premises Many, perhaps most, significant differences among religious in recent years are fundamentally due to widely different presuppositions. An ob-vious example is one's ecclesiology. If one person wholly embraces the ecclesiology of Vatican Council II and another that of liberal Protestantism, ¯ it can hardly be surprising that they entertain basically different notions of what religious life is. Whatever one thinks about celibate friendships, it is quite certain that his thoughts stem from underlying premises. We may be aware or unaware of the explicit forms of those premises, but there is no doubt that we have them. A good tree produces good fruit and a bad tree produces bad fruit (Mt 7:17). Sound premises, roots, produce sound conclusions (provided the rest of the reasoning process is correct) and faulty premises produce faulty conclusions. Some of our problems in the area of celibate friendships are the presuppositions. It is no doubt worthy of note that not a few of these presuppositions are departures from Catholic teaching. I shall mention here several of these erroneous premises. This is not the place to develop my observations at length. Anyone moderately versed in theology will recognize that with some of them we are dealing with re-jections of the teachings of the Church. After we have cleared the air we shall sketch positively what a beautiful celibate friendship is like. First, the faulty premises. 1 .) "Close celibate relationships have no significant connection with the quality of prayer life." If a connection is supposed, little is made of it. The writer or speaker seems quite unaware of the primary orientation of vir-ginity to prayer, and he makes little of the tie-up between depth of prayer and the reality of friendship. The latter he seems to think ¯is simply a psychological matter which is quite accessible to human reason. 2.) "Genuine love between the sexes is common and easy to come by." We may note about this premise that psychologists themselves point out on purely natural grounds that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Even more to our purposes is the teaching of the New Testament 1~31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 that the new Christic love is naturally impossible, not simply rare. Only if we have been emptied of our maze of selfishnesses and converted by the eternal Word of God and born into his new life can we love others sincerely (1 P 1:22-23). Popular discussions of celibate sexuality seem not to know this. This is a fatal error. 3.) "The religious vocation may be temporary, and hence dating may rightly lead to marriage." I have not seen one sound psychological or theological argument among the many produced in recent years to support the theory of temporary vocation. This is not the place to trace out the solid case for permanent vocation. It may suffice for our purposes simply to state that the Catholic Church all through her history has held that the vocation to the counsels is permanent. 4.) "Genital sexual activity in celibate life is not nece.ssarily repre-hensible." Hence, those who hold this premise feel masturbation, intimate touches between friends, perhaps even sexual intercourse are not always wrong. It may be sufficient to note about this position that most people find it shocking, and that it entails a rejection of a large portion of Catholic sexual morality. One wonders what founders and foundresses would have said about these thoughts of their spiritual children. 5.) "Marriage and celibacy are of equal effectiveness in freeing for the kingdom." This premise is a rejection of Jesus' and Paul's teaching (Lk 18:29-30; 1 Co 7:32-38), as exegetes who have no axe to grind readily point out. The premise is of course also a rejection of the teaching of the Council of Trent and that of Vatican Council II. 6.) "The religious woman should display her femininity, or, as one writer put it, she should look 'sexy' " (in some sense he did not define). Only one who is innocent of real life (what, for example, many men are likely to think and say of this type of "virgin"), would make this sort of statement. One may wonder here, too, what our best examples of deepest feminine beauty would think of this idea: Agnes, Agatha~ Catherine of Siena. Teresa of Avila, Maria Goretti and a host of others. 7.) ,"Almost any friendship between a celibate man and woman is to be viewed as similar to those between saints." Merely to advert to the sen-tence is to see how untrue it is. No comment is needed. Signs of Genuine Friendship Even the most uncommitted scholar, well informed in the area of saints and canonization processes, will agree that the Church does not place her seal of approval on any celibate friendship. This undebatable fact suggests that there are significant differences between the holy and the unholy re-lationship. One may, if he wishes, introduce a third category, the "spiri-tually neutral" friendship, i.e., one in which there is no obviously sinful activity and yet in it no one would be inclined to consider either party especially saintly. It may be doubted in at least many cases whether such a "neutral friendship" would long remain merely neutral. It is likely that it Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality will either slowly dissolve or become more or less unholy. We humans are like that. I shall consider here the signs of the genuine friendship. If some readers are inclined to question these signs, I ask only one favor: read the lives of the saints and then judge whose position reflects their attitudes and prac-tice. All of us ordinary people are subject to error. In matters like this we are inclined either to exaggerate the gospel or to dilute it. And being sinners, ,most of us are far, more likely to dilute than to exaggerate. I trust that no one of us is so arrogant as to suppose that he knows better than the saints how the gospel is to be lived in concrete life. Their lives have the authentic seal of the Church upon them and ours do not. This is no slight difference. We may take it as a general norm that a genuine friendship is immersed in God, honestly immersed in him. It is a living of the universal Pauline principle that whatever we do, eating, drinking or anything else, we do to the glory of God (1 Co 10:31). This is easy to say in the morning offering but it is"not easy to live. Nevertheless I am supposing here that celibate friend-ship is a love of the Holy Spirit and as such is immersed in Jesus' love for all men and women. In a sense it is a participation in that love: "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus" (Jn 11:5). Every celibate is to love as he loved. In that way and in no other. Honesty here is not easy. The first sign of this honest authenticity is that God not only was, but remains the first concern of each party to the friendship. It is not siinply that God was once upon a time their prime concern when they engaged in spiritual direction ora common apostolic enterprise. Right now he is their chief love. They would do nothing, absolutely nothing to displease him or to divide their hearts. This implies that each person is a man or woman of deep prayer. They take contemplative prayer seriously and are at least growing in it. They are not content with vocal prayer alone, even the excellent vocal prayer of the Liturgy, of the Hours. We can see why this sign is crucial when we recall the context of celibacy we considered above. Religious and priests who do not really understand their vocation and love it deeply are hardly capable of celibate friendship. This may be a funda-mental reason why some of the writing and speaking on this subject is so defective: it lacks roots and orientation. The second sign is a growing commitment to the celibate gift. God is a God of fidelity and he expects fidelity in us. The celibate charism is given permanently, not for a few years. Both the charism and a genuine friendship are gifts of the one Holy Spirit. He does not contradict himself. He who gives the permanent gift of celibacy does not then turn around0and chip away at it in a relationship between possessors of the gift. Hence if a priest and/or religious begin seriously to consider a dispensation from vows and possible marriage, the love is no longer a love of the Holy Spirit. The spiritual life is one integrated whole. It hangs together. A beautiful friend-ship strengthens chastity, perfect chastity. It prompts each party to want the celibate dedication more strongly and to be entirely faithful to it. 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 The third sign is non-exclusiveness, non-possessiveness. It is true that the universal love of the virgin does not mean that she (he) does not love individual persons. No one is to love others only as a kind of global mass. Like all others the celibate is to love unique individuals, but unlike the married he loves without exclusiveness. Marital love is possessive, but celibate love is not. Marital love as marital centers on one person and one alone, even though the married are to love others with a general love. Celibate love as celibate is universal, and a deep friendship with one in-dividual does not erase celibate universality. This is why a Teresa of Avila would be happy to know that Jerome Gratian has another deep, close friend. She does not love him possessively, exclusively. A religious or priest who resents another close friend lacks something of the love of the Holy Spirit. Our next sign is closely allied to the previous one. Genuine friendship promotes universal warmth. Not only is there no exclusivity or posses-siveness, but each party finds that he goes out more warmly to all people. Cordiality, warmth, helpfulness is not reserved to one's friend. This person lives the Pauline admonition to the Romans, "treat everyone with equal kindness" (Rm 12:16). Friends ought not to assume easily that they are living this admonition. It takes a great deal of detachment, self-emptying, to go out as warmly to others as to a special friend. We may recall that 1 P 1:22-23 taught that authentic love in community requires a conversion. And we ought not too easily suppose we have been thoroughly converted. Afinal sign is that in authentic celibate friendship the frequency and length of visits are limited. I shall not cite quantitative limits, but I may say that a man or woman of prayer knows instinctively what is too much in the area of time spent together and what is too much in the area of signs of affection. Again one need only think of the saints. Normal men and women who spend too much time together or are too demonstrative in their af-fection soon have a chastity problem. The Need-Relationship Experience indicates that when many young religious find themselves close to another person they quite automatically consider the closeness to be love. This is especially true of young women. When before too many months or years pass the closeness slowly vanishes, they are not only surprised, but sometimes crushed. Many of these relationships are nothing more than need relationships. One individual finds another to be attractive, interested, concerned. And perhaps the other finds the first to be such also. Then one or both find that the other answers real needs for attention, security, warmth, sharing of problems, pains, aspirations. They are close ¯ because needs are being met. This need-relationship is not necessarily bad. But it is not yet love. Love does not dissipate in time. A mere need-friendship does dissipate when the need disappears or is met by another person. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / We annot emphasize too strongly what we noted above as the opinion of psychologists, namely, that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Need-closeness is not rare. Love is. Real love demands I. conversion, being born of the word of the everlasting God. This is why ¯ genmne celibate friendship happens only when deepening prayer happens. This islanother reason, too, why some recent writings on celibate sexuality are so superficial and consequently misleading. / Implications //We are now prepared to suggest implications that flow from our dis-cUssion. of context, premises and signs. Some religious may well be sur- Jprised that I feel it necessary to indicate these implications so plainly. While others who are well aware of our situation may be saddened, they will not be surprised. Our first consequence is that there is no such thing as a valid "third way," namely some sort of combination of celibacy and marriage, that is, physical closeness and intimacy without marital commitment. It should be said, of course, that what has been meant by the third way is itself a fuzzy spectrum of relationships all the way from dubious friendships to uncom-mitted sexual intercourse. And, it may be noted, this spectrum of rela-tionships has itg defenders from one end of it to the other. Why do I say that there is no such thing as a third way? There are two clear vocations on this score, marriage and celibacy/virginity. A third, marital-virginity, is an illusion. The whole twenty-century history of Christian virginity has seen deep friendships and profound love, but the Church has never set her stamp of approval on a third way. A least acquaintance with the saints makes this clear. Further, one need only review all that has been said thus far in this article. None of it remotely suggests a third way. Our second implication concerns dating. I have found that a religious and a priest who go out to dinner socially together (or share some other recreation) are likely to object to calling the engagement a date. I am not at this point overly concerned about the semantics of the matter, but I may note that these people for some odd reason resist terminology commonly accepted in our day. Almost everyone calls this kind of outing between two unmarried people a date. Whatever the name, this practice has its ardent defenders. It is not simply something done through mistaken judgment and then regretted, That it often ends up in marriage is not surprising. (And that this is a normal, good consequence is also defended.) What is wrong about all this? A number of things. First, the celibate charism is a permanent gift. One who has accepted the gift through vow is to honor his commitment. Vows are to be k~pt. The celibate may not marry, and he ought not to put himself in circumstanc'es that normally lead to marriage. If one responds by thinking or saying, "I have no intention to marry and there is no danger in our dating," I would answer that if the two ~142 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 persons are normal and persist in their relationship they are going to have a chastity problem. If they are not normal, they already have a problem. Then there is the question of scandal. One writer, admitting that many people in our society are scandalized in seeing religious and priests dating, expiessed the hope that one day our fellow citizens would come to see that a man and a woman can go out together with some other purpose than an eventual genital relationship. To be more clear, I think he should have said that he hopes the ordinary man and woman of our day will come to see that a platonic friendship is a likely explanation~ of why a priest and sister may date. This hope is naive. Anyone familiar with our sex-saturated world recognizes that this "likely explanation" is becoming more and more re-mote. I have met aremarkable woolliness of thought on this score of scandal. A sister will maintain that if people see anything wrong in her going out to dinner with a man, that is their problem, not hers. They must, she thinks, have unchaste minds to think of anything else of a platonic or merely business relationship. This view is innocent of reality in two. ways. The first innocence regards the types of scandal~. There is such a thing as pharisaical scandal, namely, that which people take when there is no least reasonable basis for it. This kind we may disregard. The other is what we usually mean, namely, when our action is such that in the normal understanding of.people there is basis for seeing something amiss in it. This kind we may not disregard. And this leads us to the second innocence in this woolly view. The person who holds it seems unaware that in our contemporary society a man and woman who.go out together are ordinarily viewed as either a) married, b) thinking of possible marriage remotely or proximately with this person or some other or c) doing something together but only as a part of a genital sexual relationship. It is. true that many people would admit that the two may have only a platonic interest in each other, but that is not the likely understanding of why they date. Now if th, ese people are scandalized when they see two consecrated celibates dating, their scandal is not pharisaical, that is, without solid basis in normal society. They ought not to judge that the two have sinned or plan to, but they are not wrong in think!ng what I have expressed in the above (a), (b), (c) sentence. It is important to notice about this scandal matter that people need not be sure that there is sexual sin between dating religious. Scandal is given if suspicions are aroused through a normal understanding that there may indeed be something amiss. The work of priests and religious for the king-dom is seriously undermined if people begin to think they are leading double lives, posing public!y as celibates and privately living as married or some-thing approaching this. The Church is severely damaged by suspicions like these. Priests and religious have no right to furnish a basis for them. We may be reminded of the splendid example of St. Paul. He refused :to scandalize "the weak" (i.e., those with erroneous consciences about eating Celibate Friendship." llluMon and Reality food offered to idols) even though what he was doing was perfectly per-missible[ He does not callously say "that is their problem." Rather he remarkslthat Christ died'for this weak brother and Paul will never cause his ruin. "That is why," says the apostle, "since food can be the occasion of t my brother's downfall, I shall never eat meat again in case I am the cause of my br~other s downfall (1 Co 9:7-13)¯ Dedicated religious have this same sensitivity. In no way will they sow the seeds of suspicion in the minds of their bro~thers and sisters, whether the latter be weak or strong. Our ~inal implication bears on maturity, chronological and spiritual, in ~ts bearl.ng on the question of deep cehbate friendship. If one reviews what we havelsaid about the context and signs of a beautiful relationshihpe, will easily see" a problem: are young religious, priests, seminarians really de-veloped/ enough, psychologically and spiritually, to be capable of what we are talking' about? It goes without saying that no one can cite a mathematical norm oriage at which people are mature enough to enter upon more than a mere ne, ed-relationship. In any event young people should remember that ¯ a capacity for genuine love among all age groups is not common and they . ought not to be easily persuaded that they themselves are already so capa- . ble. Young people especially are prone to mere need-relationships which they m~stakenly interpret as love. I am not saying that the young cannot love genmnely. But I am saying that no one, young or old, can love w~thout hawng Been converted¯ And no one loves deeply w~thout deep conversion. Thislis why prayer is absolutely crucial to the whole question of celibate friendsliip.' Those who write and speak about this matter and pay scant ¯ I . attention to the prayer-context are s~mply bypassing the core ~ssue. Vt r-ginity f~r Christ has' depths of which psychology has not dreamed. That man or woman alone is capable of a deep friendship who is already deeply (or at least is growing in depth) in communion with the source of all love, the God who is love. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.~.B.T. and Carla Przybilla, O.S.F. Sister Mary Vincentia is Assistant Professor at the National Catholic School of Social Service; the Catholic University of America; Washington, DC 20064. Sister Carla is Executive Director of the National Religious Formation Conference; 1330 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.; Washington, DC 20005. The authors wish to acknowledge and thank Rev. Ladislas Orsy, S.J., for reviewing this article and for his helpful comments. The whole future of the Earth, as of religion, seems to me to depend on the awakening of our faith in the future. Teilhard de Chardin Today, with the growing consciousness of the personhood of woman and with the re-structuring of her roles in both society and in the Church, women religious are providing leadership in spearheading and developing new and exciting ministries designed to meet rapidly changing social needs. There appears to be a new perspective, based on a model of collaboration and interdependence, which captures both identity and purpose, while at the same time engaging in a dialogical process with the world. This vibrant movement, in response to the needs of people, and within the context of the charismatic beginnings of religious communities, is not only transforming the forms of ministry of women religious in the United States, but is also impacting on the orientation and style of preparation required for ministries of the future. The future however, is in the present. A futuristic view of ministry requires preparation for today's demands. We are living in a time of such 844 Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / !i45 accelerat ~d change that it is estimated that people will undergo retraining ~ . for occup, at~onal needs many times during a lifetime. Not only will many religious have to re-tool for today's work but a totally new orientation will be necess,ary to respond appropriately to ever-changing needs. Professional schools, i,n their socialization processes, are emphasizing education geared to the self-directed learner, preparing the adult learner for a major constant in our culture--social change. In the helping professions this means creat-ing a readiness to handle continuous and rapid change as well as skill in generating new models of helping. Incorporated within this orienting frame is the closely related concept of monitoring and assessing service effect¯ iveness. Has this trend fully impacted on religious communities, in their socialization processes and in preparation for second careers? Cer-tainly, it has influenced a number in their approaches to ministry. More still have to ~ confront this major dynamic influencing the mission of the Church in moder~n society. It vitally touches every area of "personpower": re-cru~ tment policies, qualifications needed for the various service modalities, the capacity to ~ntegrate the spiritual and rehg~ous dimensions m service, and the tra~mng modaht~es for new m~mstnes. What are the personal re-quiremedts necessary to meet new and changing situations? A look at the emergln.g~ forms of mlmstnes may provide some answers. As Rahner states, ttiese new models of service, similar to the secular professions, are concretelexpressions of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.~ The p~urpose' of this article is to examine the developing forms of min-istry of women religious and to consider their implications for the so-c~ ahzat~on processes, e.g. the formation programs of religious congrega-tions as ~well as for re-tooling for new and re-focused careers. An attempt also wiillbe made to provide an organizing schema, a conceptual frame-work, to,~ analyze the major components of these socialization processes within a [context of future needs. The data presented here were collected during the preliminary phase of ¯ a larger study which is underway on the new careers of women religious, related areas of role conflict, and coping styles utilized in conflict resolu-tion. 2 Thlis first phase, a survey of 367 religious congregations of women in the United States, sought to locate the population of religious in new works, that is, ~n works which were new to their congregations.3 Communities ~Karl Rahner. "'Practical Theology and Social Work in the Church," Theological Inves-tigations, ~/ol. 10, translated by David Bourke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), pp. 267-68. I , 2This study is being conducted by Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. with the Nationa~ Religious Formation Conference, Washington, D.C. Sister Mary Vincentia developed the research design and Stster Carla processed the data for this preliminary phase. The article was written by the former and the final version was completed jointly. 3The istin~ of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, which included major supe-riors of 367icongregations, was used for the mailing. The time-frame of the survey was summer to fall, 1976. 1~46 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 were asked, in an open-ended format, to indicate the new ministry of each sister. There was a 94.60% rate of response which would seem to indicate, along with the many supportive statements, a high level of interest among religious communities in this area. A total of 5,892 religious was reported by their communities to be engaged in new works. ¯ Although this survey was not intended to be an exhaustive study, it was rich in information on developing works among sisters. The data, therefore, were analyzed and classified into broad categories of ministry. These findings would seem to have value in that they provide an empirical base, suggesting future directions and rough indicators for some future projec-tions. New ministries, as used here,, refer to forms which were new to religious communities. In considering the findings, it is important to note that a number of communities indicated that they have no new works, that their congregations have always been involved in what many consider new directions. The non-r~spondent group may also be composed of those who have consistently been involved in what is considered new by religious today. For example, in a recent study on sister social workers profession-ally educated in the United States during the period 1962 to 1972, forty-six sisters or the largest, number trained in any religious community were members of the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity.4 None of these, however, are reflected.in the findings discussed here since social work is traditional apostolate of this community. Similarly, the large num-ber of sisters in this community, and in a few others, in parish work is not represented in the data since, historically, these communities have been engaged in this type of work. New Forms of Ministry The proportion of women religious in the broad categories of ministry are shown in Table 1. This typology follows the familiar classification of works according to the fields of health, education, and welfare (here termed social ministry). Other emerging forms of ministry did not fit neatly into these general categories and, therefore, were presented separately. Parish work, for .example, which involves a plurality of ministries, crosses the categorical boundaries of health, education, and social ministry. A special category was constructed for the spiritual ministries which have been in-creasing over the past few years. They clearly represent a cluster of spiritual and religious functions (such as directed retreats and prayer movements) generally performed in Church-related structures rather than in exclusively non-ecclesial settings. Similarly, supportive Church-related 4Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, A Study ~of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker. Unpublished DSW dissertation, the Catholic University of America, Washington, D.C. 1974, p. 247. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 1t47 ministries are surfacing more explicitly and distinctly associated with some level of Church structure or Church work. An example would be the role of the diocesan consultant. These categories, particularly, give striking evidence of the shifting roles of women in the Church. Table 1 Proportion of Women Religious in New Forms of Ministries According to the Type of Ministry* Religious Type of Ministry No. % Health Ministry I 112 18.87 Education Ministry 1334 22.64 Social Ministry 1912 32.45 Parish Ministry ' 797 13.53 Supportive Church-related Ministries 384 6.52 Spiritual Ministry 266 4.5 I Other 87 1.48 5892 100.00 *Refers to forms of ministries which were new to religious congregations of women at the time of the survey. As can be seen, the social ministries represent the largest group of services provided by women religious among these new forms. Almost one-third of the survey population were engaged in a form of social ministry, 10% more than those in education and close to 15% more than those involved in the health field. An interesting piece 6f data was the small number of sisters actually engaged in such works as business, clerical work, and sales in strictly non-ecclesial setti.ngs. Although a large number of others worked in non-sectarian structures, such as hospitals, they were most frequently ehgaged in pastoral work in the human service fields. The dominant theme which ran through the findings was se~r, vice, often with a highly skilled and profes-sional orientation, within a framework of ministry or mission. From the comments of some communities, form of service and perspective of min-istry were clearly within the context of their charismatic beginnings. The categories in Table 1 will be elaborated more fully in the discussion that follows. New Forms of Health Ministry The largest single category in the health field was pastoral care in Cath-olic institutions--hospitals, .nursing homes, or other group facilities. As Table 2 illustrates, a forceful trend is noted when pastoral care in Catholic settings is combined with pastoral care in non-Church related settings: almost one-half of the new forms of health ministries are in the field of pastoral care. Interestingly, too, more than one-fourth of the sisters in new health ministries are providing nursing or allied medical services in public 1~41~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 or private institutions not sponsored by the Church. Thus, almost 45% of the sisters included in the survey in the health field offer services in other than Catholic institutions. This proportion is even higher when combined with non-Church related community services. Table 2 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Health Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Community-based Health Care (nursing and related allied 202 18.17 services) Health Care in Non-Church-related Institutions* 289 25.99 Pastoral Ministry in Catholic Institutions* 363 32.64 Pastoral Ministry in Non-Church-related Institutions 192 17.27 Other (Physicians, dentists, other specialists/consultants) 66 5.93 Total 1112 100.00 *Refers to hospitals, nursing homes, and the larger group facilities. As would be expected;.a large proportion, or almost 20% are in in-novative community and neighborhood-based health programs (such as public health, visiting nurses, and outreach clinics, both in Catholic and non-Church related settings). This group consists largely of nurses and allied professionals. Interestingly, this trend somewhat parallels that in social work although there was a sharper reversal from institutional to community settings in that field. Close to two-thirds of the sister social workers were in institutional work prior to Vatican II in contrast to over two-thirds in community-based programs after Vatican II: No doubt this trend in the hea!th field would be greater if more Church-related commu-nity- based programs were available within Catholic structures as they are in social work, e.g. Catholic Charities agencies and other neighborhood and parish-based social service and social action programs. Also, it was inter-esting that close to 85% of the population studied provided services within Church structures and only 6% saw services in the public sector as an important future role of the sister social worker. Leadership within the framework of the Church, as long as these structures were available and viable for effective and relevant service, was viewed as a dominant future role. Close to sixteen were physicians or dentists; when combined with psy-chiatrists (see Table 4), we can see a more visible trend in the medical ministries. A small number were speech and music therapists. 5Joseph, op. cit. pp. 102, 174. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View 1149 New Forms of Education Ministries More than one-fifth of the religious in the survey population continued in new and specialized forms of the education ministry. This is not sur-prising since the majority of religious have professional training in this field and many communities hold education as integral to their mission. Most interestingly, however, were the innovative and creative forms taking shape. As reflected in Table 3, close to 40% are specializing in religious education, which would seem to be an important role for the religious of the future. Almost one-third teach in schools in the inner city and urban areas, reflecting the traditional concern of communities for the poor and culturally deprived. Close to one-fifth were in a variety of specialized forms of education to the physically and emotionally handicapped, school drop-outs, minority and bilingual groups, and a range of adult education pro-grams. Table 3 Women Religioas Engaged in Forms of Edncation Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Campus Ministry 86 6.45 Communications 67 5.02 Library Work 56 4.20 Religious Education 530 39.73 Teaching in Seminaries and Theologates 25 1.87 Specialized Forms of Instruction 252 18.89 Inner City Teaching 318 23.84 Total 1334 100.00 A developing trend in communications was discernible, revealing some interesting works. Thirteen sisters were involved in very technical work with the media, TV and radio, while fifty-four sisters worked with Catholic and secular newspapers/periodicals in writing, illustrating, and publishing. ¯ New Forms of Social Ministry It has been made forcefully clear in recent years, by both the magis-terium and the Council, that the social ministries are essential aspects of the Mission of the Church.~ Perhaps the most significant trends in new min-istries are, in this area, not unrelated to the directions in society and de-velopments in the Church. This field, which reflected the largest number of new forms, has been defined variously in the literature. Very broadly, it ~Eugene A. Mainelli. "'The Parish Community Becoming: Theological Reflections," Social Thought, i (Fall. 1975). p. 15. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 is viewed as comprising health, education, and welfare. Most specifically, as used here, it includes those activities which focus primarily on the social dimension of human services: the response to socio-personal needs as well as social justice and advocacy efforts directed toward humanizing and transforming societal structures,r As Table "4 shows, the largest proportion of sisters engaged in social ministries, over one-third, were in social work. These data are consistent with Joseph's findings: as many sisters were professionally trained, in social work from 1970 to 1972, inclusive, as were in the previous decade,s It is not surprising that religious would select this field as it call for skills in working with both' personal and social needs. With the two-fold emphasis today on the person and impacting social systems, it provides opportunity for both service and social action. The sisters in this survey were social workers in school and hospital settings as well as in community-neighborhood pro-grams which reflected reaching out to others in a variety of ways. More than one-half were in Catholic Charities agencies, in both traditional family and child care services, e.g. family counseling, foster care and adoption ser-vices, and in community organization work, crisis intervention, and other forms of outreach. More than 30% of the religious in social ministries worked with minority groups and rural poverty programs, evidencing out-reach as well as justice efforts. Table 4 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Social Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Prison, Probation, Police Work 99 5.18 Social Justice Work 168 8.79 Social Work 651 34.05 Psychiatric, Psychological. Therapeutic Work 82 4.29 Work with Minority Groups 376 19.67 Rural Poverty Work 204 10.67 Alcoholism and Drug Addiction 116 6.07 Youth Work 114 5.96 Day Care Programs 28 1.46 Group Homes and Specialized Care Facilities 32 1.67 Other 42 2.19 Total i912 100.00 Although many in the above categories were actively engaged in social justice, advocacy, and social action--as related to the groups served-- 7Cedric W. Tilberg. "'The Social Ministry of the Congregation," Lutheran Social Welfare Quarterly, Vi (December, 1966), p. 8. 8Joseph, op. cit., p. 90. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View almost 10% of the sisters ,wer~ involved exclusively in these activities. Most of these sisters worked in social justice centers or on special commissions directed to justice and peace. Eighteen, however, were in political min-istries or appointed to government positions at state or local levels, while twenty-three were lawyers, aids, or legal advisors to the poor. A number organized legislative networks to promote grassroots leadership and create political power. Sixty-six worked in halfway houses for alcoholics or parolees or in group homes for pre-delinquent or delinquent youth. Another thirty-two served in homes for the mentally or physically handicapped or the emotionally disturbed. Slightly over 5% of the sisters worked with prisoners/parolees and their families, did probation work, or were on the police force, a relatively new area of ministry and one rich in service potential. The "'other" category consisted of those engaged in natural family planning, Birthright, housing projects, and shop~ for the poor. The liberation of the oppressed, as a pivotal and actigie concern of the Social Mission of the contemporary Church, is vividly clear in these data. Neff Forms of Church-Related Ministry Table 5 shows that almost one-half of the religious working in supportive Church-related works were specialists in the various fields of ministry, e.g. education and health, who acted as consultants to diocesan programs. More than one-third held offices in Church organizations at national and inter-national levels, utilizing the competencies of religious in important lead-ership roles. Three sisters were canon lawyers, twenty-three were identified as vicars for religious, and twelve were in tribunal work, no doubt a significant future indicator for the role of the ecclesial woman, These data represent a growing trend for women to assume leadership positions at all levels in the Church. Table 5 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Church-Related Ministries New to Their Congregations Ministries National and International Offices in Church Organizations Vicars for Religious and Canon Lawyers Marriage Tribunal Work Diocesan Consultants/Specialists Ecumenical Consultants Total Religious No. % 126 32.8 I 36 9.38 12 3.12 189 49.22 21 5.47 384 100.00 Parish Ministry There is a:remarkable movement in the Church toward parish ministry, 1~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 especially among women religious, markedly illustrated in these data.~ The parish may be viewed as the Church in mission; it is here that the Church's mission is concretized. Rahner, in discussing the parish, states: ¯ . . the Church will make its impact as a present reality there where the presence of Christ is made real . Here the Christian of tomorrow will come to realize the true nature of the Church. Of course such a community, which feels itself to be the concrete realization of the Church as achieved through word and sacrament, will be conscious of being united to all other communities which likewise are the same Church . "~ It is in the parish-community that the Christian of the future will experience the Church in word and sacrament. The parish was the largest single category of ministry; 797 sisters were reported as involved in some aspect of parish work. The Parish was actually the only single category in the broad classification of ministries (see Table /), since the data did not lend itself to clearly differentiate among the various forms of parish work. A number, however, did indicate that they were parish associates, assistant pastors, parish workers, home visitors, social ministers, pastoral assistants, eucharistic ministers, parish spiritual directors, and parish team ministers, evidencing the plurality of forms at this level and supporting the need for the team approach. It may also be an index to the role ambiguity often experienced by parish workers and, fur-thermore, may indicate the need for clearer role definitions. Presnail dis-cussed this, detailing the range of roles identified with the parish worker and urging specialization within a framework of the plurality of ministries and personal charisms, competencies, and training. He points to the role am-biguity experienced by the religious educator until the role became more specialized and the boundaries more circumscribed.1~ In recent years, a number of Catholic Charities agencies across the country have reached out to parishes to facilitate social ministries at this level. According to a study that is underway, 206 religious are involved in some way in these parish social ministries, either directly as parish staff affiliated with the agency or as parish workers, not administratively related to the agency but receiving consultation from agency staff.t2 This upsurge in parish ministry is consistent with the findings of Jo-seph. 13 Comparative data, pre- and post-Vatican 1I, on the major apos- ~Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "'Christian Social Action," Careers in the Christian Ministry (Washington. D.C.: Consortium Press. 1976), p, 118. ~UKarl Rabner, -The New Image of the Church." Theological Investigations, Vol. X (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973). p. 11. ~Gregory Presnail, "Guidelines for a Parish Worker," Sisters Today (November, 1971), pp. 416-21. ~zSister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. and Sister Ann Patrick Conrad, M.S.B.T., National Trends in Parish Social Ministry: A Study of Parish Programs Affiliated With Catholic Char-ities Agencies, in process. ~ZJoseph, A Study of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker, p. 241. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 853 tolates of 108 religious communities, were obtained. The most dramatic change was in parish work. The number ~f religious congregations engaged in parish work at this time increased from 17.35% to 44.90%, close to a 30% oost-Vatican increase. Thus, we can expect---on the basis of these data, a continued upswing in parish work with a greater differentiation among ministry roles and a continued use and refinement of the team approach. The challenge remains to identify and elaborate the emerging patterns of parish ministry. The Spiritual Ministries Spiritual ministries, close to 5% of the new ministries, represented an emerging field in which the religio-spiritual dimension is the primary focus. These are closely related to pastoral ministry, but differ in that generally thry' are performed within church structures rather than in a setting in which one of the helping professions is the host-profession such as the hospital or the social agency. These ministries consisted largely of houses of prayer, retreat work---especially directed retreats, and prayer move-ments. Summary A two-pronged trend is reflected vividly in these data: concern with religious/spiritual aspects of the person (as evidenced in pastoral care, religious education and the directly spiritual ministries) and with the social dimension of human need (noted in the large number of religious engaged in the social ministries). Parish work may be viewed as reflecting both trends as the parish is concerned with socio-religious needs of persons through its developing approaches or team ministries. Deepening insight into the Pauline concept of the plurality of ministries is illustrated remark-ably in the growth in ministries at this level, particularly among women religious. The emphasis on social need was not only reflected in the increase in social ministries but also in the service modalities and organizational patterns in the health and education fields. The upswing in parish work, social work, pastoral care in health settings, and religious educationhin that order--would seem to forecast that these will be important future roles of women religious. A Conceptual Framework for the Study of Formation Programs The literature on adult socialization~4 is rich in its implications for for- ~4Socialization is the process by which one learns the ways of a given group. Often, it is defined as role learning. In adulthood, it refers to training for life or occupational roles. Studies have been done on socialization processes in such professions as nursing and medicine. No published research has been located by the authors on preparation for the role of the woman religious. I]54 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 mation programs in religious communities and provides tools for critical examination and assessment. The work of Brim and Wheeler is particularly useful as it identifies core variables which influence socialization out-comes.~ 5 It suggests a broad conceptual model to study the essential com-ponents of formation and aids in raising questions about current structural patterns, Central concepts are: the recruit or socializee: the candidate; the socializing agency: the religious community; the socializing agent: .for-mation personnel; and, the socialization process: the process of formation. The importance of taking another look at formation programs becomes obvious not only in considering the trends in ministry but in recent work-shop experiences of the National Religious Formation Conference. During workshop meetings, both men and women religious were asked to define the qualities needed for the future religious. Most frequently projected characteristics were: (1)self-direction; (2) the willingness to search, risk, and deal with uncertainty; (3) a deepening spiritual life; (4) a sense of rootedness in the charism of the institute;and, (5) a global mission concern. These characteristics and the new ministries suggest the need for an orienting philosophy of learning geared to the adult learner. Cartwell, in an excellent article on current educational models in formation programs, clearly identifies the need for an integrated cognitive-experiential-devel-opmental approach appropriate to today's social and cultural needs.~6 The proposed approach to learning is the adult learning model, androgogy, which prepares the person for self-direction and on-gbing learning. This approach is grounded in active participation, mutual sharing, and a readiness to learn. It recognizes not only the potential of the recruit but also the learned skills and past experiences which are brought to the new learn-ing situation.~r ~ With the trend awayJfrom institutional forms of ministry to community and parish-based work, many religious are moving from highly structured settings to natural ecological settings which are often ambiguous and lack-ing in role clarity. Such settings require that structures not only be created but implemented effectively and that roles be defined and continuously reclarified. Services at these levels demand creative action and continued innovation. Collaborative team approaches are required, calling for a high degree of skill in interpersonal communication as well as in coping with conflictuai role demands. Competency and evaluation (a trend in our so- 15Orville G. Brim and Stanton Wheeler, Socialization After Childhood (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1966). ~6Peter W. Cartwell, O.F.M., "Formation--Whither or Whether," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XXXll (September, 1973), p. 1050. ~rMalcolm Knowles, The Adult Learner: Neglected Species (Houston: Gulf Publishing Com-pany, 1973). Preparation ,for New Ministries: A Futuristic View ciety where resources and commodities are scarce) will be essential to assess program effectiveness. Increasingly, then, ministry will require self-directed persons, ready to generate new service modalities, negotiate role demands, and collaborate with others in attempting to find solutions to complex problems. The Recruit-Candidate Very often young people today have broad experiences. Frequently, they are well traveled and view such experiences as important to their on-going development. Generally, those who enter the helping professions have a high degree of commitment to serve the needs of others. Those who would enter a religious community seek to deepen their value-orientation and share similar values with others in community. Many have been ex- :posed to an adult learning style, basically experiential, moving from the realm of the empirical and from skill in doing to the level of abstraction and conceptualization. They freely challenge ideas and existing structures, ex-pecting an openness of response and, themselves, inviting feedback. Where opeaness is absent, confrontation is often heightened. They seek an ex-panding personal development and view some contemporary religious structures as constricting growth potential. The questionmust be raised: Can present structures of many formation programs attract, support, and enhance the goals of these young women? In view of the socialization outcomes required fo~ the new ministries, what personal qualifications are needed in the recruit at entrance?~Selection and socialization processes obviously interact. Etzione states that where both are high, socialization should be effective.18 Space does not permit further discussion of the prospective candidate. It seems sufficient here to raise these basic questions. The Structure Granting the developmental-experiential nature of adult learning, one must consider the environmental or structural conditions which foster it. Organizational arrangements of formation programs will require on-going examination in the light of trends in ministries and related learning needs. A basic assumption of the androgogical model implies change in the self-concept moving from one of dependence, to increasing self-direction.19 When operationalized in structures, this assumption is reflected in mutual trust and collaboration, flexibility, freedom to express differences, and active participation in learning. These structures should be geared to fa- ~SAmitai Etzione, Complex Organizations (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961). ~Knowles, op. cit., p. 45. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 cilitate growth and provide experiential as well as didactic learning oppor-tunities, a direction underway in many communities. Self-concept theory and research have demonstrated the impact of ref-erence groups on the self-concept of the person. Where a person constantly receives negative images, a negative concept of self may develop. In the past religious structures emphasized negative feedback, often forming negative self-concepts in religious. Current structures must be realistic, emphasizing positive as well as constructive negative feedback. Such an orientation contributes to a realistic self-concept and confidence in both self-direction and leadership skills. The Socializing Agent Fundamentally, formation personnel must be comfortable with the self-directed contemporary religious. Question must be raised as to appropriate preparation for formation team members. The predominant emphasis has been largely theological while also drawing from the humanistic psychol-ogies. Since the new ministries require an on-going diaiogical process with the world, it would seem that a broadened training would be required drawing from the social sciences and the secular professions. This would highlight the environment, the interaction between the person and the so-cial context--in this situation, the community. The environmental aspects and their influences on the person need to be emphasized. The self is in constant interaction with social structures, both within and outside the community. Formation personnel need to be more aware of the impact of structures on the person in community and how the person can impact on structure, as a basis for mutual and on-going growth and change. The Process The process of socialization, which seeks to identify how a specific role is internalized, has been studied in a number of professions,z° Greater attention needs to be given to this process in formation programs. The work of Kinnane and Preister suggests that the ultimate direction of socialization should be characterized by a movement from dependence and indepen-dence to interdependence; the development from self-centered behavior to social behavior; growth in maturity; and, the increasing integration of re-ligio- spiritual values in ministry.2t Z°Howard Becker, et ~il., eds., Institutions and the Person (Chicago: Aldine Publishers, 1968). ZlJohn F. Kinnane, Career Development for Priests and Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA, 1970); Steven Preister, "The Professional Socialization of the Seminarian into the Career of Priesthood." Unpublished paper, Catholic University of America, 1976. PreParation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View The formation process involves both formal and informal components. Basically, the formal process occurs in sequential phases, clearly marked by rites of passage or movement from affiliate or candidacy status to the position of novice or of commitment. Informal processes, however, operate and may be identified. It has been observed in one community that religious often proceed from the initial stage with some role ambiguities, to a positive identification with community (often at the beginning of the novitiate) to a negative identification, followed by a more realistic conceptma stage of interdependence in community and the beginning of internalized commit-ment (generally toward the end of the novitiate),z2 Although this was found to be th~ usual process, individual variations in development and regression may occur throughout the process. It does suggest, however, a process of integration and internalization which continues in all adult life. Young religious need to be continuously confronted throughout this process to recognize both positive and negative aspects of the religious community and consider within this context where they are, personally, at a given time as they develop a realistic view of the community and seek to serve within its framework of ministry, they have already begun to internalize their religious commitment. To be fixated in either a positive or a negative phase may well reflect a question of personal commitment within this particular life style. With the complexities of living in society today and the greater demands in ministry, it seems that more attention must be given to the processes of initial and on-going formation. Conclusion In conclusion, religious of the future are now, in fact defining them-selves. This paper has presented indicators for the future role of women religious based on ministries which were identified as new to their con-gregations. An orienting conceptual model was formulated to examine ex-isting struciures and processes of formation programs as well as to raise questions as to how these programs are preparing religious for future roles in ministry. A further question, however, needs to be asked. Although religious communities are intellectually endorsing new ministries, are affective sup-port structures being provided for these newly developing works? These survey findings therefore, compel communities not only to address their newly developing forms of ministry but also to consider the support sys-tems provided for these new directions. 22Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "S~cialization in a Religious Community." Un-published paper, Catholic University of America, 1974. This paper was prepared in con-junction with research on the socialization process of one community. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" Anne Marie Harnett, S.N.J.M. Sister Anne Marie received permission for a "contemplative sabbatical" last year, during which time she resided with, and lived the life of several contemplative communities. Presently she is doing graduate studies in theology and resides at 519 Varnum St., N.W.; Washington, DC 20011. The poet's labor is to struggle with the meaninglessness and silence of the world until he can force it to mean, until he can make the silence answer and the non-being be. It is a labor which undertakes to "know" the world not by exegesis or demonstration or proofs but directly, as a man knows apple in the mouth.1 When I read this paragraph recently, I was excited. It seemed to express what I have been trying to do this year during a "contemplative sabbat-ical." Aboht a y.ear ago, I asked for the opportunity for an extended ex-perience oUsolitude because of a somewhat hazy intuition 'that such an orientation was at the source of any ministry for justice (a large interest of mine) and it was itself a powerful witness to the consumer ~ociety in which we live. ~' I address these reflections particularly to those men and women who" might also feel called to an experience of solitude--to encourage them. I speak to contemplative communities--to thank them for their hospitality to me when I needed to be a "temporary monk." I hope that these few thoughts will encourage contemplative groups of women especially to con-sider this kind of hospitality as a service to the Church. Since September I have been struggling with the meaninglessness and silence--sometimes catching glimpses of the answer and the being--in a seemingly endless game of hide and seek. I have let the various elements of the experience speak to me, wondering at times what all this has to do 1Archibald MacLeish, Poetry and Experience (Boston, 1961), pp. 8-9, in The Courage to Create by Rollo May (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 89. 858 Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 859 with ordinary living, let alone with problems of violence, poverty, injustice, the needs and :,:~oblems of people today. Sometimes I have felt anxious and frustrated: c:,.cu joy-filled, occasionally guilty, generally at peace, "r,. year has been. a tapestry. It has provided me with a variety of experiences resulting in changed attitudes and new and keener aware-nesses. Many of the designs iffthis tapestry have not yet been woven, and like the underside of a tapestry, the pattern is not readily visible to me. Because I am always wary of instant experts, of people who spend a few weeks in a foreign country and then lecture or write about the people and culture of that country, I hesitate to say a great deal even about the early part of my adventure in the "desert"; certainly I cannot yet write about my current "Carmelite phase." I would like however to share my reflections on the short experience I had in a Trappist monastery in Mistassini, Quebec. The monks'there have opened their choir to both men and women, and so I had the privilege of sharing fully in their prayer from Vigil at 3:30 A.M. until Compline at 7:30 P.M. Their Office is beautiful inits simplicity. I found that it not only satisfied 'my need.for beauty in worship but that it completed my own prayer; whatever the mood or message of my prayer might have been. The Hours became~for me a stream into which I could jump at various times of the day, a stream which carried: along with it all my hopes, as-pirations and activities. Because chanting Office at 3:30 A.M. is so foreign to most of us, I would like to say a little abotlt Vigil. It was never easy; seldom .was it bright With praise or, comforting in sorrow or pain. It was to me what its name suggests: watching and waiting. I often thought all of this would be absurd if God did not exist, if he were not God with us and for usl Often too I would think of and so pray for other people who-were up for other reasons: those on night shifts, parents with sick children, street people, those with no bed to go to. At other times I would think of people close to me, some of them watching and waiting in a way only they could know; other~ now fully enjoying him for whom we in that church were keeping vigil. Often too I would just manage to be there. Always I knew that all the stars were laughing at our wonder. I became more keenly aware of the apostolic dimension of prayer, both liturgical and personal, knowing that my prayer and that of the monks and other guests extended far beyond the confines of that church. This is so because of the nature of liturgical prayer, because of the eucharist and our faith in its cosmic dimensions~, but also because of what happens in prayer. The experience of a deep need of liberation and healing, the experience of both the presence and the apparent absence of God, and of his absolute fidelity, the relationship of this prayer to daily life with its demands, calls, and responses--all this is a microcosm of the world today with its own great need for liberation and healing, and its search for God whom so many have dismissed or do not know. ~160 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 This experience in prayer brought me new attitudes toward solitude. For some time I had found periods apart renewing and increasingly nec-essary to my well-being. So when I went to Mistassini I considered it under this primarily physical or geographical aspect. Now, while I realize the necessity and appreciate the value of periods of physical solitude, I have come to think of it more as "an enclosure" I carry around with me. It is an inner attitude in line with the thought of Thomas Merton expressed in Contemplation in a Worm of Action. As I understand it, he sees solitude as a probing for truth, first of all in oneself; it is the acceptance of one's identity and of one's lot as given by God. While probing for truth and forming convictions, one seeks the courage to live, to witness in accordance with these convictions. It involves making decisions, consonant with one's inner reality and in the light of God's truth and love.2 I became more aware of the fact that my search and probing is a pil-grimage. Like Abraham I have set forth in the desert hearing the call, "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). While my predominant mood as I set out on this pilgrimage was one of joy in God's presence, yet solitude sometimes brought me fear of the future, an angst fear. This reality I found also described by Thomas Merton: "The man who wants to deepen his existential awareness has to make a break with ordinary existence, and this break is costly. It cannot be made without anguish and suffering. It implies loneliness, and the disorientation of one who has to recognize that the old signposts don't show him his way, and that in fact he has to find the way by himself without a map.''3 Perhaps I will always have to live with this anguish because the old signposts are in fact gone, and the new ones are very hazy. Certainly they will never be as clear-cut and sharply defined as they were in the past. Very likely the way will never be clearly mapped out. Yet I have become more at home with my anxiety and at times even welcome it as an experience of my powerlessness, as a call to total de-pendence on God. Recently I found a passage in The Courage to Create by Rollo May which describes in psychological terms this aspect of solitude. The ex-perience of encounter, encounte¢ implying a deep commitment, always brings anxiety because of the shaking of the self-world relationship which occurs in the encounter. "Our sense of identity is threatened: the world is not as we experienced it before; and since self and world are always cor-related, we no longer are what we were before . The anxiety we feel is temporary rootlessness, disorientation; it is the anxiety of nothingness.''4 In mature creativity anxiety must be confronted if we are to experience joy. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Image Books, 1973), Chapter III, "The Identity Crisis," pp. 75-100. aIbid., p. 126. ~Ibid., p. 107. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 861 I can live with anxiety and anguish, confront them and experience joy because of my faith and trust in God, and because of the love relationship I experience with him. The anxiety is then transformed into resting in him. It' is living in that marvelous gap between what my faith sees and feels and what God knows and is actually accomplishing in me; between my desire to live as he wants me to live, to be the person he wants me to be, and the fulfillment of this desire. It is a living of the words of Isaiah, "See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the desert I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers" (Is 43:9). During the summer just before my sabbatical year I was a journalist at our general chapter which was one of reflection and discernment on our charism and our response to it in the world today. During the c.hapter our foundress was very much alive and present to us; she continued to be present to me during these weeks of solitude. As I reflected on my life as a woman religious and on hers, I saw that she had creative imagination'~ which she used in service to the Church. She consulted the signs of the times and, with eyes wide and in perfect freedom, said yes. This yes meant leaving a respectable and secure position, setting herself and her two com-panions up in an attic, opening a small school with no financial means, embarking on unknown seas in an as yet unfounded community. She said thisyes daily depending totally on God in faith and love. It seems to me that this is the kind of response to which God calls us today: the witness of a life--creative, integrated, with a willingness to risk, dedicated to the gospel. As I write these reflections in my room in the Bronx Carmel, I am looking at a little collection of prints tacked on my wall: La Misereuse accroupie (a woman crouching, possibly in prayer) by Picasso, Christ Mocked by Soldiers by Rouault, The Burghers of Calais and La Pensde by Rodin, the South Rose Window and Lancets from the Cathedral of Chartres. Beside them is the quote, "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves." The collection symbolizes the strands of life that have brought me here and the threads continually being woven into my solitude, my experience of God. The Christ who is mocked is the crouching woman, the attraction of La Pens~e, the glorious center of the rose window. He is the reason for loving the questions and for being patient with the incompleteness of the answers. He is somewhere in the agony, the stolid acceptance, the chains and the resistance symbolized by the Burghers of Calais. At the same time he is in the beauty and achievement of ihe ensemble. My encounter with this reality brings me back to labor and struggle with the meaningless, the contradictions and the paradoxes. Again I am knock-ing on silence, waiting for being; above all, I am living in hope. ~Leonardo Boff, author of Jesus-Christ Liberateur, says that imagination is the creativity to see humankind become better and richer than the present cultural environment. The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Elders Jeanne Schweickert, O.S.F. Sister Jeanne is Vice President of Ministry for the School Sisters of St. Francis. Her office is located at 1501 South Layton Blvd.; Milwaukee, Wl 53215. Over the past several years many old people have entered my life in new and powerful ways, the young old, the middle old, and the old old--and as they touched me I experienced the paradoxes of their lives: the hopeful expectations of some, the disillusionment of others; the longing for (he great past and the eager awaiting of death; the joyous celebration of life and the loneliness, fear and despair of day-after-day. It became more and more obvious that as the people I met approached old age, as they moved into retirement, they experienced traumatic mo-ments in their lives, moments that challenged their very personhood. Some time ago I decided to take council with some of the elderly sisters of my community. I invited them to get in touch with their own experience of retirement and share with me what they recalled happening inside them at that time. The following are a few of their comments: "Sometimes it feels like your personhood is diminished ." "I want to be seen first as a person, and then as a patient . " "Institutions make it difficult to be personal ." "You can't make decisions for yourself ." "I felt dethroned, becoming an observer rather than a participant . " "I was frightened of being a captive of the rocking chair and treated as a child kept busy with games and crafts . " "The real pain of not being active is that your opinion is never sought . " These are but a few of their comments; they are the more painful ones. 862 The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Eiders / 1~63 However all of these perspectives reinforced for me again the perception of retirement as a time of moving away from something that had meaning rather than moving toward something significant in life. In his "Preface to a Practical Theology of Aging" Don S. Browning emphasizes that we must challenge both the idea that a person is only of worth or contributing when he is gainfully employed and the idea that the last stages of life should be a time of irrelevant comfort and preadolescent indulgence. Al

Issue 19.1 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review For Religious Volume 19 1960 Editorial O[[ice ST. h~ARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas Publisher TIlE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Henry Willmering, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Robert F. Weiss, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answen Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, November on Ihe fifleenlh of Ihe monlh. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is Indexed in Ihe CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX. Act of "Dedication of the Human Race to Christ the King Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary IOn July 18, 1959 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 51 11959~, 595-96), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued a new text of the act of dedication of the human race to the Heart of Christ the King. The text has been revised according to the directives of John XXIII who has also accorded a number of indulgences to the revised prayer. The following is a translation of the new text of the prayer together with the indulgences granted for its recital.I SWEET JESUS, Redeemer of the human race, look do~vn upon us humbly kneeling before Your altar.~ We are Yours and Yours we wish to be; but in order to be still more firmly united to You, today each one of us freely dedicates himself to Your most Sacred Heart. There are many indeed who have never known You; many others have rejected Your commandments and have repudiated You. Be merciful to all of them, 0 kind Jesus, and draw them all to Your holy Heart. Be king, 0 Lord, not only of the faithful who have never abandoned You, but also of the prodigal children who have left You; bring them back quickly to their Father's house lest they die of misery and hunger. Be king of those who have been deceived by erroneous ideas or have been separated by discord; bring them back to the harbor of truth and to the unity of faith so that soon there may be a single fold and a single shepherd. Bestow upon Your Church, 0 Lord, security, liberty, and safety; give to all nations the tranquillity of order; and grant that from one pole of the earth to the other there may ring out the cry: Praise to the divine Heart which brought forth our salvation; to It be glory and honor forever. Amen. July 18, 1959 His Holiness, John XXIII, after abrogating the prayer as given in the Enchiridion Indulgentiarum [Manual of Indulgences], 1952, n. 271, graciously granted the following indulgences: 1) A partial indulgence of five years to the faithful who devoutly recite the above act of dedication with contrite heart. 2) A plenary in- 1When the prayer is recited outside a church or oratory, "in Your presence" should be said instead of "before Your altar." ACT OF DEDICATION dulgence once a month, if they have recited the prayer devoutly every day for a whole month, provided they go to confession, receive Communion, and make a visit to a church or a public oratory. 3) The faithful may gain a partial indulgence of seven years if on the Feast of Christ the King they are present in any church or oratory, even a semi-public one (in the case of those legitimately attending it), when the act of dedication tn the Sacred Heart of Jesus according to the formula given above and the Litanies of the Sacred Heart are recited before the Blessed Sacrament solemnly exposed; moreover, they may gain a plenary indulgence if, besides fulfilling the above conditions, they have gone to confession and Communion. All contrary provisions not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Major Penitentiary L. ~I, S. I. Rossi, Secretary Living /aters Frederick Power, $. J. pius XII in his encyclical Haurietis aquas on devotion to the Sacred Heart urges us to"-study diligently the teachings of Scripture, the fathers, and the theologians--the solid founda-tions on which devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus rests." For the Holy Father is "firmly convinced that we can rightly and fully appreciate the incomparable excellence and inexhaustible store of heavenly gifts of this devotion only when we study its nature in the light of divinely revealed truth." The encyclical itself begins with a text from Isaiah: "You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" (Is 12:3). A few lines further on the Holy Father returns to the idea of the "Saviour's fountains" when he refers to the scene in the Temple at Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles as recorded in John's Gospel, Chapter 7:37-39. The words of our Lord on this occasion are numbered among the principal te~ts which establish the biblical foundation of the devotion. A closer study of this text will be most rewarding and will reveal the appropriateness of the text as the general theme of the encyclical. When the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand, our Lord had declined to go to Jerusalem with His relatives but afterwards went up by Himself "not publicly but as it were privately." The Feast of Tabernacles was held towards the end of Sepo tember after the grain harvest and the vintage and the gathering of the autumn fruit crop. Originally an agricultural festival in-stituted to give thanks to God for the fruitfulness of the soil, it later included the commemoration of the forty years spent by the Hebrews in the desert. In memory of the latter event all Jews of free status except the sick, women, and children lived for the week in huts made from the leafy branches of trees. These huts reminded them of the tents or tabernacles pitched in the wilder-ness of Sinai, a period kept ever fresh in their minds as one in which God gave them the great gifts of the manna and of the water from the rock. The desert ever afterwards remained in Jewish tradition as the place of God's protective presence. Two elaborate ceremonies added to the gaiety of the feast: the procession to the fountain of Siloe and the torch-light illumi-nation of the Women's Court. It is the first of these ceremonies that is of interest for the present article. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious Each morning the multitude organized into a procession. The people lined the route leading to thepool of Siloe and crowded into the Temple and the surrounding courtyards and porches. Then a procession of priests and Levites descended the valley as far as the pool of Si|oe. Those assisting at the ceremony held a citron fruit in the left hand and in the right a palm branch twined with shoots of myrtle and green willow. The Levites chanted the group of festive psalms called the great Hallel; and the multitude, keep-ing time with the refrain, vigorously waved the fruit and palm branch in token of joyfulness and triumph. The officiating priest carried a golden ewer, and at the pool of Siloe he filled it with water to carry back to the altar of holo-causts. This liturgical act was both a commemorative symbol and a dramatized hope. It recalled the miraculous water that gushed forth from the rock of Horeb beneath the rod of Moses, and it was a figure of the outpouring of graces proper to Messianic times. As the celebrant drew the water of Siloe, the choir repeated the verse of Isaiah: "You shall draw water with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" [12:3), a verse which refers to the blessings promised for the days of the Messiah. This symbol of a spring bursting forth and of water flowing from a fountain was well known to those present, for it is one of the most frequent in the Bible; and in a land afflicted by drought and water scarcity, it was a readily understood symbol of divine blessings. Accordingly, the miraculous event in the desert, when Moses struck the rock with his rod and water gushed forth, was remembered with gratitude in the people's liturgical ceremonies. Moses himself had prayed before the Ark of the Covenant: "O Lord God, hear the cry of this people and open to them thy treasures, a fountain of living water, that being satisfied they may cease to murmur" (Num 20:6). In this text and elsewhere in Scripture "living water" is water flowing from a spring as opposed to the stagnant water of cisterns. It was this symbol of living waters that the prophets used to signify divine blessings. Jeremiah even calls God the fountain of living waters: "For my people have done two evils. They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water" (Jer 2:13). In the last part of the book of Ezekiel, the prophet describes the vision of the holy waters issuing from all sides of the Temple. The desert through which they flow becomes extremely fertile; the trees on their banks have healing power and bear fresh fruit January, 1960 LIVING WATERS monthly. Such is the virtue and dynamism of Yahweh's holy presence in the Temple that it radiates0grace and blessings over the land. Zechariah, too., in speakingof the time of the Messiah, remarks: "In that day there shall be a fountain open to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (Zech 13:1). The prophets, then, looked on water poured out upon parched land as an image of the new spirit that was to be characteristic of the time of salvation. In .the words of Isaiah: "I will pour out waters upon the thirsty ground, and streams upon the dry land; I will pour out my spirit upon thy seed, and blessing upon thy stock" (Is 44:3). In these texts we see some examples of how the blessings of God and the future blessings of the Messianic era are portrayed under the symbol of living waters, and the passages provide some introduction to the scene in Jerusalem on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. After the drawing of the water the procession wended its way up the slope from the pool of Siloe, the officiating priest carry-ing the golden pitcher of water, the Levites chanting psalms, and the crowd singing the refrain. As the procession approached the temple, the people became more enthusiastic, shouting out their response of Hallelu-Yah--Praise Yahweh--with ever greater vehe-mence. It wasin this way that they manifested their deep-felt conviction that Yahweh was their own God who had brought them out of the land of Egypt and had led them safely through the desert. The procession went up to the altar of holocausts just at the moment when the parts of the victim immolated that day were being placed upon it. The priest was greeted by the sacred trumpets and was met at the altar by another priest carrying the wine for the libations. While the people continued their enthusiastic shout-ing, the two pitchers were emptied into conduits that led to the foot of the altar. By this libation it was intended to thank God for the two occasions when He made water flow from a rock to satisfy the thirst of His people in the wilderness. By the same rite the attention of the people was directed to the Messianic promise of living waters and also to the expectation of the fulfillment of the promise which was symbolically signified. For the people were expecting a Messiah who would bring salvation and who was to be another Moses. When the liturgical rite was finished and the singing ended, a silence descended over the throng. Our Lord, who had been 7 FREDERICK POWER Rewew for Rehgmus present among the crowd, now took advantage of this opportunity to reveal His true mission. Mounting a step he cried out to the Jewish people: "If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink; he who believes in me, as the Scripture says, 'From his heart there shall flow rivers of living water.' " By these words He revealed Himself as the one in whom all the abundant graces of the Messianic period are to be found, the object of the Messianic expectation, the Messiah himself. He is the rock from which the water of life flows; indeed, He is the fountain itself. He is the spring from which anyone who thirsts may quench his thirst. The effect of faith in Him would be the reception and communication of living water. This text requires the explanation of two important points. First, the text as a whole has been interpreted in two ways: that the fountain of living water flows from the one who believes in Christ, or that the fountain flows from Christ, the one in whom we believe. The Holy Father understands the text in the second way in his encyclical; this use, without doubt, holds the richest and profoundest sense, one more in agreement with the Old Testament prophecies given above. It is also more in agreement with the theology of St. John. Secondly, an explanation must be given for the use of the word heart in the text. The Latin edition of the encyclical follows the Vulgate version of the text, the literal translation of which would be: "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." The Latin phrase used is de ventre eius, which literally means "out of his belly." This translation would also be a literal trans-lation of the Greek and Aramaic versions of the text. The trans-lation, however, would not be a correct interpretation of the idea intended. Those who are experts in the Aramaic language agree that for the Hebrews the viscera or the belly was regarded as the seat of the emotions in the same way as we regard the heart. Accordingly a proper translation of the phrase used by our Lord would be "from his heart." Such a translation, though not a literal one, is the proper way to express the idea in terms we understand today. It is what our Lord meant, though He expressed it in the idiom of His own day. It is with this understanding that authorities place this text among the fundamental texts of Scrip-ture regarding devotion to the Sacred Heart. On this occasion of our Lord's revelation of His Sacred Heart, He appeals to Scripture as being fulfilled in His person. He does not refer to one particular text but rather to that whole class of January, 1960 LIVING WATER~ texts from the Old Testament which we considered earlier. The people who heard these ~o.~s could take only one meaning: The man before them was definitely claiming the fulfillment of these prophecies in Himself; He was claiming it and at the same time promising untold blessings to those who would recognize this claim. Certainly St. John is impressed by the words, for he pauses to comment upon them. He tells us that they were prophetic and that they were fulfilled in the final glory of our Lord whicb, for ~John, is our Lord's passion, death, and subsequent transfiguration: "He said this, however, of the Spirit whom they who believed in~ Him were to receive; for the Spirit had not yet been given, seeing that Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:39). The Spirit here means the Holy Spirit and includes the abundance of Mes-sianic goods and the gifts of redemption which the Holy Spirit brings to those who believe in Christ. But before the living water would flow, Christ had to be glorified; this was a condition that had yet to be fulfilled. That our Lord's glory was concerned with His passion is seen in His priestly prayer after the Last Supper: "Father, the hour has come! Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify thee, even as thou has given him power over all flesh, in order that to all ,that thou hast given him he may give everlasting life" (Jn 17:2). By sacrificing Himself the Redeemer would cause the Spirit to flow and to open up the "fountain of living water." And this would happen when at the death of the Messiah His Heart would be pierced ~with a lance. The life-giving power of the living waters would find its source in the Blood of Christ as it gushed forth from the wounded Heart of Christ. It is, however, necessary to make here some distinctions between the piercing of Christ's side and the pouring forth of the Holy Spirit. The piercing is not of the same nature as the visible mission of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Nevertheless there is an ancient tradition, attested to among others by St. Augustine, that the Church was born from the pierced side of Christ. As Eve was taken from the side of the sleeping Adam, so also the Spouse of Christ, the Church, sprang from the pierced side of the dead Christ, the new Adam in His sleep of death being the source of the new Eve, the Church. And this Church is the Mystical Body of Christ whose soul is the Holy Spirit. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious That the living waters promised to those who believe in Christ spring from the pierced side of the dead Saviour is also attested to by the common interpretation that for John the water and blood are signs of the sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. In his encyclical Plus XII puts it this way: "From this wounded Heart the grace of the sacraments, from which the children of the Church draw supernatural life, flowed most pro-fusely . " And the Holy Spirit is included in the sacrament of Baptism, for the new birth to be effected by Baptism is brought about by "water and the Spirit" as our Lord told Nic~demus. So it is that the prediction of John in Chapter 7 concerning the flowing rivers to come after Christ's glorification was fulfilled when on the cross a soldier "opened his side with a lance, and immediately there came out blood and water" (Jn 19:34). The streams of blood and water are certain signs that now have been fulfilled the Scriptural prophecies of Messianic grace. Now the living water has begun to flow; now the Spirit is given, but only in blood; grace is given but only from the pierced Heart on the cross. Unless the spiritual rock that is Christ had been struck, the waters would nol~ have ~ome forth. And John in his Gospel insists that this incident of the soldier declining to break our Lord's legs and instead opening His side was a momentous event. He emphasizes his own role as an eye-witness of the event: "And he who saw it has borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knows that he tells the truth, that you also may believe" (Jn 19:35). And he puts further emphasis on the event by telling us that by it two prophecies were fulfilled: "Not a bone of him shall you break," and "They shall look upon. him whom they have pierced." The first of these prophecies speaks of the paschal lamb. Now in the concluding events of the passion of Christ it is fully revealed that Christ is the true Lamb of God; accordingly none of His bones were broken. This symbol of the Lamb recalls the mag-nificent theology of the Apocalypse concerning the "Lamb who was slain" (Apoc 5:12). In the Lamb we see the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah who suffers 'and is glorified in His sufferings: "The Lamb . . . is the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings" (Apoc 17:14). The redeemed are the "bride, the spouse of the Lamb" (Apoc 21:9). In the blood of this Lamb the faithful are able to be cleansed--to be filled with the living waters of the Spirit. And from the fact that the rivers flow forth from the 10 January, 1960 LIVING WATERS wounded Heart of the Lamb, we are led to those passages in the Apocalypse which depict the fulfillment of the prophecies of Isaiah and Ezekiel: "For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them, and will guide them to the fountains of the waters of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Apoc 7:17); ". he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming forth from the throne of God and of the Lamb" (Apoc 22:1). Thus the act of redemption is enshrined, as it were, in a celestial garden and the redeemed are forever made joyous at the Saviour's fountains. The second prophecy, which is concerned with the piercing of our Lord's side, is from Zechariah: "And I will pour out upon the house of David and upon Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of prayers: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for an only son" (Zech 12:10). In this passage God speaks about Himself. As man, He will be the first-born, one for whom they mourn and weep and at whom they gaze although they have pierced Him. God Himself in His human nature brings about the redemption and is the one who gives the living water of the Spirit. He pours forth the Spirit at the moment when the lance opens His Heart. At that moment the Spirit begins to flow and the Messianic work will be prolonged to the end of time when Jesus will come again in glory. In the words of the Apocalypse: "Behold, he comes with the clouds, and every eye shall see him, and they also who pierced him" (Apoc 1:7). Our Lord, then, standing above the throng gathered for the Feast of the Tabernacles, revealed Himself as the long awaited Messiah, the rock of salvation, the fountainhead of all the bless-ings of the Messianic times. For the most part, He was not ac-cepted. A few believed in Him, so John tells us, but only a few. For He is the "stone which the builders rejected." But He is also the rock which will be struck anew for the salvation of the newly chosen people. He will give of His sub-stance to give birth to the new people that He will acquire for Himself. From His pierced side will spring the fountain of eternal life, the rivers of living waters, the Spirit of love, the Church, the new Jerusalem, Baptism and the other sacraments, all the graces of the "last days." The Litany of the Sacred Heart sums it all up in the invocation: "Heart of Jesus, fountain of life and holiness." 11 A Catechism on Obedience of Judgment Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. QWhat are the necessary presuppositions for every act of obedience? A. That the superior has authority and that what he commands is not certainly sinful. Q. Could the superior sin while commanding something not sinful? A. Yes, through sinful motives, for example, envy, injustice, or serious imprudence. Q. What is the formal motive of obedience? A. Authority. Q. Is obedience an act of the will or intellect? A. Obedience of the will is an act of the will; obedience of judgment is formally an act of the intellect, but like faith, is commanded by the will. Q. What is obedience of judgment? A. The conforming of my judgment to the judgment of the superior-because he has authority. Q. To what judgment do I conform? A. Not necessarily to his theoretical (speculative)judgment, that is, something to believe, but to his practical judgment, that is, something to do. The Abbot John did not have to believe that the dry stick would grow into a tree; he had only to believe that God wanted him to water it (for His own mysterious reasons). Q. How would you express this practical judgment? A. Given the order of the superior, I must judge that this is what God wants done (that is, God sanctions with His authority the perhaps mistaken decision of my superior) and that it is best according to the ultimate mysterious plan of God (not necessarily best for the immediate purpose intended by the superior). Q. When I cannot agree with the speculative judgment of the superior and must carry out his practical judgment, how should I obey? A. Not just materially, by merely executing the order (and in such a way as to sabotage the project, emphasizing and dis- 12 O[~EDIENCE OF JUDGMENT playing the weakness of the order, proving the superior wrong); but loyally entering into his, views (without blinding myself to his error), covering up its weaknesses before the public, trying my best to make it succeed. Q. Should I judge the order of the superior to be the will of God because of the reasons of the superior? A. No, but only because he has authority. Q. Then obedience of judgment does not imply that I agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, it does not imply this. Q. Is it possible to have perfect obedience of judgment and the firm assurance that the superior's order is the will of God for me, while still hesitating over the reasons of the superior? A. Yes. Obedience is specified by authority, not by reasons. Q. Will my obedience of judgment be more perfect in propor-tion as I bring myself into agreement with the reasons of the superior? A. No, though the desire to agree will indicate a more perfect disposition. Q. Then why try to make my reasons agree with the reasons of the superior? A. It helps remove the psychological obstacles to obedience of judgment and chiefly of execution. It is easier to act if humanly speaking I agree with the policy. It is the proper disposition in the face of God's representative. Q. Do I suspend my act of perfect obedience of judgment while I am trying to bring myself to agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, no more than you suspend your act of faith while you study your catechism or theology. Q. When I have brought myself to agree with all the reasons of the superior, do I have more assurance of doing God's will? A. No. The security that comes from authority (in the line of faith) will always be sufficient and greater than that which comes from the weight of human reasons. (Actually both the superior and I may be agreeing in wrong reasons.) Q. What is "blind obedience"? A. Supposing the two presuppositions of all obedience, I blind myself to the qualities and reasons of my superior, that is, I exclude the consideration of these reasons and motivate my obedi-ence by authority alone. Q. What is the difference between obedience of judgment and 13 PAUL W. O'BRIEN blind obedience? A. There is no difference in the act of obedience. But while obedience of judgment merely states the fact, blind obedience connotes the approach: the exclusion of the consideration of the reasons. Q. Is blind obedience a help to obedience of judgment? A. Yes. It makes obedience of judgment easier and safer for though I could have perfect obedience of judgment while consider-ing, and even while rejecting the reasons, still it is much easier to by-pass these reasons and look simply to authority. Q. Is blind obedience always better? A. No. Even though easier and safer, it is often good and sometimes necessary to consider the reasons of the superior (even while excluding them from the motivation of obedience), for they may: (a) help me to profit by the experience of my elders, (b) enlighten me on the spirit of my community, (c) be necessary to relieve psychological blocks to action, (d) be necessary for the understanding of the mind of the superior in view of carrying out his order more intelligently. Q. What should be my attitude toward the reasons of the superior? A. I should be well-disposed towards them. They are given to help me. I should use them as far as they help. If they trouble me, I should prescind from them and practice blind obedience, But even while using them, I should keep them in second place and unite myself to God through authority. 14 The Theology of Religious Women Yves M.-J. Congar, 0. P. This article was a conference given July 10, 1958, to a convention of French priests charged with the care of religious women. It will ~ppear as a chapter in a book to be entitled Le r61e de la religieuse dans l'Eglise (Paris: Cerf, 1960), a volume in the series Probl~mes de la religieuse d'aujourdhui. The article was first printed in Suppldment de la Vie Spirituelle (1959), 316:42. The present translation is by John E. Becker, S.J. Basic Notions: The Church and the World THE WORLD was set on,its way reality by the creative act. Its story is humanity s quest atos, ,ba e fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). For all practical pur-poses, the world, the temporal, history, the drive to civilize are equivalent ideas; the reality they have in common is the effort of man to perfect himself by subjecting, for his advantage, the re-sources inherent in himself and in material creation. And this effort has a direction, a direction which is completely dependent on the facts of Adam's existence: he was at one and the same time both image of God and sinner. As Tennyson said very well, it is only at the end of this great adventure that one can say that man is complete. The Church is something other than this inherent movement of the world or of history even if, as is the case, she envelops it and Ultimately guarantees it. For she does not emerge out of the resources deposited within the first creation. She is placed in the realm of reality by a new initiative of God, properly supernatural, that is to say, an initiative in which God commits and gives Himself (this is the meaning of grace). She is an order of sanctity and sanctification positively instituted from above, a creation of the divine positive law issuing from the priestly, prophetic, and redemptive kingship of Christ. Still she has her existence and, as it were, her proper stability within human societies. Divine insti-tution that she is, she herself creates and shapes according to her needs and her spirit institutional forms proper to herself. On the other hand, the Church is not made to be an end in herself. She is made for God and for the world -- even for the world, to save it by the grace which God has given her to dispense: 15 YvEs M -J CONGAR Rewew for Rehgmus "In it [the faith of the Church] is contained union with Christ.''1 The Church is a new creation of God, and a supernatural one; but she has a mission in and for the world. This mission consists in two things: first, to convert men by making them disciples, that is to say by bringing them into herself, giving them in this way the regeneration of a second birth; and then to sanctify them by communicating to them the grace of the Lord, by forgiving their sins, and by teaching them to conform their lives to the holy and sanctifying will of God;2 second, to operate within temporal life itself in order that in accordance with God's plan it may be directed and oriented towards God to the fullest possible extent. The Church here reveals especially the healing power of grace which, by giv-ing back to nature her primitive orientation, conforms her to the will and to the image of God while at the same time restoring her t'o herself. The Church seeks, by all sorts of initiatives and under-takings, to remold the world according to the plan of God, which is neither the pursuit of self nor the pursuit of power nor egoistic hardness of heart, but on the contrary, service, brotherhood, justice, peace, communion, sharing, helping the poorest, combating all the degrading miseries of body and soul. This is why, from one end to the other of her history and growth, the Church has created ministries inspired by charity. Some of them, more involved with the work of the world and its battles, such as the fight for social justice, are more the role of the laymen within her whom she forms and inspires for this work. Others, more strictly pertinent to her spiritual nature and to her primary office of sanctification, can remain more properly eccle-siastical ministries; such is the case in particular with the corporal works of mercy or the spiritual works such as teaching. "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 25:40). Basic Notions: The Church in Herself One can consider the Church as the great sacrament of salva-tion and distinguish in her two aspects. She is both the reality of grace or sanctity and she is the means of grace or sanctification: reality and sacrament. Images for comparison are not lacking. However, as with every .image, they are very inadequate, and risk losing through excessive schematization what they gain in clarity. 1St. Ir~naeus, Adversus Haereses, III, 24, 1. ~Mt 28:19-20; Mk 16:15 ft.; Jn 3:3 ft.; 20:21 ff.; Col 1:13; etc. 16 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN For example, the Church as a holy reality may be considered to be. a tower or a temple; as a means of. sanctification, to have the instrumental power of a pick, a mining car, a windlass, a scaffold, and all of those things which are necessary ~to bring the rough stone from the mines to the finished building where each has its place and its proper finish (see the hymn for the dedication of a church). Does not St. Augustine distinguish the "society of the sacraments" and the "society of the saints," the former being ordered to the latter? Does he not also write: "The architect builds a permanent edifice with temporary machinery"?'~ To see in the Church the holiness already rooted in souls is not only to consider the depths of her life, it is to see in her that which will always be. "Charity never passes away" (1 Cor 13:8). To live through charity the life of holiness is really to live as a citizen of the eternal and heavenly City of God. In heaven, one might say, there will be nothing else but that. That city knows no hierarchy other than that of holiness or of love. The Virgin Mary is at its pinnacle. In the Church of this world she had neither a function nor a hierarchical dignity. It could readily be said of her that she was a member, the first member, of the laity if there were not the danger of belying by this way of speaking her per-fection as a consecrated member of the faithful. Mgr. Journet says well, following St. Thomas, that the Virgin Mary has per-fectly achieved the highest holiness, not the highest hierarchical dignity.~ She is-the type, or better, the perfect personification of the Church, but of the Church as final end, not as means. Mary is the "eschatological eikon of the Church.''~ That which in the Church is "sacrament" in the wide sense of the word -- instrument or means of grace -- is as such related to her as a wayfarer. This is true in the first place of her sacraments properly speaking, but also of her dogmatic formulas, of her organizations, and of her ecclesiastical hierarchy which has the care of all these matters. If it were necessary to point out a type or a personification of the Church here, it would not be the Virgin Mary but rather the Apostle Peter. But this would be to consider 3Sermo 362, 7 (Patrologia Latina, 39, 1615). 4St. Thomas, In I Sent., d. 16, q. 1, a. 2, ad 4; Summa Theologiae, 3, 27, 5, ad 3; Albert the Great, In IV Sent., d. 19, a. 7; Charles Journet, L'Eglise du Verbe incarnd, 2 (Paris, 1951), 422; 441; 456, note 2. ~This striking expression is from L. Bouyer, Le culte de la M~re de Dieu (Chevetogne, 1950), 33; Le trSne de la sagesse (Paris, 1957), 188. See also O. Semmelroth, Die Kirche als Ursakrament (Frankfort, 1951), 176-85. A beautifu] and rich meditation on the theme of Mary as perfect spiritual type of the Church is to be found in H. Rahner, Marie et ~'Eglise (Paris, 1955). 17 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious only one part of the reality, to reduce the power of the Church as means of grace or of sanctification to "institutions" alone. But as a matter of fact the whole life of the Church in time is a means of grace tending to produce that interior fruit of holiness which will always remain. Still, if the distinction which we have proposed is valid -- it is a classical one -- it is very necessary to guard against pushing it to the point of separation or disjunction. The Church in the concrete, the existential Church on earth is at the same time both means of sanctification and sanctity. In terms of the image used above, we should say that she is at the same time the building and the construction works by which she is built; or, using another image, she is the ear of wheat, full of the grain of which the host will be made, and at the same time the root and stem necessary to bear and nourish the wheat until the harvest time. This is why in the Church holiness and means of sanctification interpenetrate. The sacraments are holy; but also the reality of the interior holiness of the members is a powerful means of leading other members and the whole body either to conversion or to greater holiness. There is a spiritual mothering of holiness, or, if holiness seems too broad, of the life of faith, of prayer, and of charity; and perhaps this mothering is too little studied, theoretically undervalued in the Church, even though it is extremely real, a factor of everyday life. We shall return to this point later. It would also be inexact to make a complete separation be-tween holiness and visibility. Holiness manifests itself. It is even a "note" of the Church, that is to say a mark which "notifies" and permits the true Church to be recognized. As instigator and end of all the visible works of the Church, terminus and interior direction of all the instrumentality of grace, intimate soul of all the historical life of the Church, holiness gathers all of these func-tions together to constitute that sign of the Kingdom of God which the Church must be for the world. During His earthly life, Jesus made men sensible of the approach of the Kingdom of God and unveiled something of its proper mystery by "signs" just as He opened up the ways of the Good News in parables. After the Ascension of the Lord, it is the Church which by the grace of Pentecost is the sign for the world. But the different manifesta-tions of her historical life are signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of the charity of Christ, only because they incorporate and radiate holiness. Otherwise they might be signs of power, of legal right, even of greatness; they would not be signs of the Kingdom of God 18 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN and of the charity of Christ. They would not draw the world to the faith. Basic Notions: Religious Life The Church is a body which is organic, organized, and.there-fore composed of different elements. She embraces the infinity of individual differences which are the foundation of the gifts, altogether interior ~and spiritual or exterior and public, of each one: what a variety among men, what a variety in the world of the saints! All this is the rainbow of grace. But there are also larger differences in the Church, delimited categories, groups charac-terized by a particular social structure, even constituted as such by law. These are those major differences of condition which affect Christian life in that profound and permanent as well as public and manifest way by reason of which one may speak of them as states. Christian antiquity and the Middle Ages used the expression orders for any group, and the encyc.lical Mystici corporis of June 29, 1943, reintroduced this idea into its broad theology of the Church as the Body of Christ. Once more it speaks, for example, of the "order of the laity.''~ The fathers spoke of the order of preachers or of prelates, the order of clerics, of monks, of virgins, of the continent, of widows, of deaconesses, of married people. If we consider only the most general divisions of states in the Church, we find ourselves faced with a double distinction, that between clerics and the laity, and another between seculars and regulars or religious (see below, note 50). If we recall what was said above about the Church, we will be able to relate the first distinction more to that ~aspect according to which the Church is means of sanctification, since this difference is between the simple members of the people of God and those members who are destined to exercise some sacred function and are endowed with powers appropriate to the prac.tical application of the means of grace. The second distinction pertains more to the aspect of the Church according to which she is a mystery of holiness; for the "state of perfection," even though it is a means of sanctification, is nor-mally an approach towards a more perfect life in Christ. In both cases, the state ~or particular ecclesiastical position of the cleric and of the regular is a deprivation of the greater liberty legiti-mately given those in the world in view of their conditio.n of life and .activity in the world; the purpose of this deprivation is the better service of God, whether this be more on the plane of per- SActa Apostolicae Sedis, 35 [1943), 200-01. 19 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sonal spiritual life (religious life) or more on the plane of admin-istering the Church's means of sanctification (clerical, priestly state). It would be superfluous to spend time here defining religious life. Let us recall merely the simple and vigorous manner in which St. Thomas Aquinas characterized it in relation to the Christian life of the simple faithful.7 Each member of the faithful is com-mitted by his baptism, to renounce sin as well as Satan and his temptations. By religious profession, a Christian man or woman commits himself to renounce the world as the context of his life in order to belong more entirely, more definitively to God and to His work; for the world is an ambiguous milieu to live in; it is full of occasions of evil; it is engrossing, distracting, and filled with demands which hinder one from belonging to God completely and of temptations which turn one away from Him. This is why it is essential to the religious life, not only to detach oneself from the earthly and to consecrate oneself to God by vows, but through the rule to separate oneself from the conditions of life in the world. A point of view less individual and more ecclesiological might present the same realities in the following way.s The difference between religious and the simple faithful need not be viewed as a difference between the consecrated and the non-consecrated. This opposition exists, of course; but it should be located between the Church and the world, between the people of God and those who are not, between Christians and non-Christians (see 1 Pet 2:10). In the people of God as such, in the Body of Christ, all is sacred. The faithful are consecrated; their whole life as Christians, in so far as it is Christian, is sacred, not profane. All that religious can ambition is to be more consistently, more integrally Christian, and to embrace more perfect means toward this end." Laymen, or the ordinary faithful, live in the world. It is their precise charac-teristic to serve God in the way that is determined by their natural mission into the world.~° But the world is something other than 7Contra impugnantes religionem, c. 1. 8We employ here a suggestion of R. Carpentier, S.J. in his Life in the City o[ God: An Introduction to the Religious Life (New York, 1959). Compare the same author's "Les instituts s~culiers," Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 77 (1955), 408-12, in particular, 409, 411. ~Since Dom G. Morin's L'iddal monastique et la vie chrdtienne des premiers jours (Maredsous, 1912), it is better known that religious life is merely the Christian life more fully expressed. 1°There is more and more agreement on this positive and theological definition of the lay state: Y. M.-J. Congar, "Qu'est-ce qu'un laic?" Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1950, 363-92; this article is the first chapter in the same author's Lay People in the Church Westminster, 1957). See also K. 2O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the Church. If the Church has its inner consistency and its proper demands, the world has too, Even prescinding from the ambiguity inherent in the enterprises of men and in the tendency toward sin which adheres to the tissue of the world, it is still necessary to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's. For this reason even those laymen who seek only to love and serve God, whose personal lives are surrendered to God, and whose hearts are wholly intent upon Him find it difficult to exert themselves and to carve out their way in that world, a world which is not surrendered to God. "And he is divided" (1 Cor 7:33-34). The life of the Christian in the world is, unhappily, a divided one. The religious is the Christian who, in the desire to belong totally and irrevocably to God,~ leaves the world and enters a life built up and organized for the service of God, something which the world is not. The religious life in so far as it is a social frame-work for living is actually a creation of the Church for the pur-poses of the Church -- the service of God, Throughout the len.gth of her history.the Church has striven to achieve through religious life that which she tried to do as soon as she entered the world" by the grace of Pentecost; it was something that had been tried' be-fore her, for example in the monasticism of the Essenes on the shores of the Dead Sea. Her aim has been to constitute a way of life which responds perfectly, even as a social or juridical structure, to the communal and fraternal demands of the Gospel and which allows one to be at the exclusive service of God. In fact, through-out the whole history of the religious life one finds references back to the tentative attempt at communal living in the primitive Church at Jerusalem.~- Moreover, it is by expressl.y referring to Rahner, "L'apostolat des la~cs" in Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 78 (1956), 3-32; a digest of this article may be found in Theology Digest, 5 (1957-58), 73-79. ~St. Thomas: "So that he may not turn back" (Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 6, ad 1; see also Contra Gentiles, 3, 131). l~See Acts 2:44 and 4:32. Some references on this point are: F~r St. Pach-omius see L.Th. Lefort, Les vies coptes de saint Pach6me et de ses premiers successeurs [Louvain, 1943), 3, 30, and 65, 25; for St. Basil, see his Regulae brevius tractatae, int. 148, 187 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 1180 and 1208) as well as his Regulae [usius tractatae, int. 7 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 933); for St. Augustine see his En~arrationes in Psalmos, 132, 2 (Patrologia Latina, 37, 1729 ff.), his Sermo 355 and 356 De vita et moribus clericorurn suorum ( Patrologia Latina, 39, 1568 ff.), his De opere monachorum (C.S.E.L., 41, 529 ft.), his Regula (see below, note 21), and A. Zumkeller's Das M6nchtum des hl. Augus-tinus (Wiirzburg, 1950), 129 ft.; for St. Ambrose Autpert, see his In Cant. (Bibl. Max. Patrum, 13, 442); for St. Odo of Cluny, see his Occupatio 6 (Patrologia Latina, 133, 572) and J. Leclercq's "L'id~al monastique de saint Odon d'apr~s ses oeuvres," in A Cluny. Congrbs scientifique, 1949, 227 ff.; for St. Peter Damian, see his Opusculum 24, Contra clericos regulares proprietarios (Patrologia Latina, 145, 482-90). From the time of the reform 21 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious this historical archetype that all reforms, all renewals of the religious life have been carried out. The "type" of Jerusalem, the City of Peace, the city "where all together make one body" (Ps 122:3), the place of God's habitation, has always been, for the various institutes of religious life, a kind of ideal, or "myth" in $orel's sense of the word. The religious life is a kind of earthly anticipation of the City of God. The chief forms of the religious life derive, even in those things which differentiate them, from the following principle com-mon to all: The religious life is a total consecration which is carridd out on the social level and publicly approved by the Church and which aims at the pursuit of the perfection of charity on the basis of a renouncement of that which hinders this totality, and this renouncement is made in such a way as to close to oneself the possibility of turning back. Within the bounds of this essential principle common to all, religious institutes differ from one another according to that pre-. eminent work of charity to which each one specifically devotes itself. A first overall distinction arises, for this reason, between institutes vowed to the service of the love of God alone, in Him-self, and immediately -- the contemplative life, monasticism, the eremetical life -- and institutes vowed to the service of the love of God in the exterior exercise of love and of service to the neigh-bor -- institutes specifically vowed to the works of mercy, corporal (hospitals), or spiritual (teaching), or the two together (the greater part of the missionary congregations).13 Contemplatives or monks also contribute to the salvation of the world, but only from above and in the context of the mystery of the Communion of Saints, from which comes in its secret forms that spiritual maternity which we have already mentioned and to which we shall return. From the point of view of effective activity they seem to leave the world to its damnation.Nevertheless, this is a historical fact: it is the monks who have made Christianity; of the llth and 12th centuries the references 'to Acts increase; see the studies of Ch. Dereine and others. See also J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948), 82-108. M.-D. Chenu, La thdologie au xii'~ si~cle (Paris, 1957), 227 ff. 13As is well known there exists a third category, that of the apostolic life, which is sometimes given the strange and little justified name of the "mixed life." In this life the superexcellent work of charity is identical with that of that agape which implies service, self-giving, apostolate, mission. It implies living in the light of faith and love to the extent of communicating them to others by means of the apostolate. But this apostolic life is almost exclusively reserved to men; and in its fullness it demands the priesthood of the Gospels. 22 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN monasticism has been --it is still, it will continue to be in the future -- preeminently the educator who teaches men not only what it is to be a Christian, but also what it is.to be human. In this way it has been the creator of much that is beautiful. It is impossible to accept grace without its showing its healing power, impossible to seek first the Kingdom of God without all these other things being added on besides (Mt 6:33; Lk 12:31). Religious devoted to the works of mercy enter into the torrent of the world to perform the work of rescue. They participate more strictly than the monks in that which in the Church is not only repose in God but also anxiety for and with men; they participate in the Church not only as a harbor of grace and the inn of the good Samaritan, but as an effective rescue service with the difficult commitment to heal the wounded on a road infested with robbers. In the duality of the Church and of the world, the monks represent essentially the distinction or opposition of the two. The Church is not of the world; and in her monks she says to it: "Do not touch me!" But the duality of the Church and of the world is not only distinction and opposition, it is also a kind of coupling; it implies a dialectical and dramatic point of contact. Not only do the Church and the world coexist in the time between Eden and the Kingdom, they exist in a certain way one with the other and one for the other. The world is, for the Church, not only~ the quarry from which she gets her stones, but also a necessary partner in a dialogue, or better, a sort of separated partner, who opposes and tests her, but with whom she must remain joined in order to try to save it. The Church is different from the world, she is grace and salvation. But in the interim between Easter and the second coming, which is her time of wayfaring and of labor, she is joined to the world as the good Samaritan was to his wounded stranger while he lifted him up and carried him, or as a lifeguard is joined to the drowning person whom he attempts to bring to the shore.~ Basic Notions: The Role of Woman in the Church One can scarcely speak of the laws of God's work, for he would thus risk giving the meaning that rules are imposed upon God extrinsically and as necessities. But one may speak of con-stants which the work itself reveals to us. And one of these constants seems to be procedure by pairs or complementary polarities. The study of tradition throughout Scripture, the fathers, and ancient ~On this point read G. Bernanos, La libertd, pourquoi faire? (Paris, 1953), 267-69; and see H. Urs yon Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos (Paris, 1956), 217. 23 YVES M~-J. CONGAR Review for Religious texts and records, has convinced us more and more that this idea has played a very great role in Christian thought and institutions.~5 Among these unified dualities or complementary polarities, the first is without doubt the division of humanity into man and woman. It reappears in the Church, with the reservation that will be noted later. It is the reason that today's relatively numerous studies of "the second sex" have their counterparts, frequently stimulating ones, in Christian publications which attempt to de-termine the particular role and assets of women and hence of religious women in the Church.~ This role and these assets are connected with these larger values: a) Woman stands for receiving, welcoming, consenting; she is the "spiritual vessel." To speak of passivity would be not quite exact; receptivity is vital and active. Recall the "fiat" of the Virgin Mary, the prototype of acceptance and of the faithfulness of the Church before the God who comes, calls, asks. b) It is also said of the Virgin that "she kept all things in her heart." Man has the initiative in producing life. Woman creates for it a milieu that is intimate and warm, a home. In the home she embodies that humble faithfulness which conserves, waits, wel-comes. Man is devoted to the risks of conflict on the outside; he is the victim of its aggression; he suffers change. But thanks to his wife he has a home where he can recover intact his better self, his inner self: the freshness and poetry of love, the faithfulness to memory and to conscience, the delicacy of attention and of care.'7 Man is specialized by work and by action. Woman is nearer 15The following examples have been chosen at random and hurriedly; nevertheless the meaning and the relationships of this theme of "pairs" were a matter of profound experience in the consciousness and texts of the ancients; they will be understood better if one keeps in mind the duality in unity which is at the basis of all the examples: Man and woman, soul and body, the two sides of the body (two eyes, two hands, etc.), sky and earth, sun and moon (the "two luminaries"), the two powers, pope and emperor, the two witnesses Peter and Paul, Moses and Elias, law and grace, the Church of the Jews and the Church of the Gentiles, head and body, Scripture and tradition, baptism and confirmation [Christ and the Holy ~pirit), com-munion under two species, the two columns of the temple of Jerusalem, the two cherubim of the Ark, etc. ~6For studies by Catholics see Gertrud von Lefort, Die ewige Frau ~Munich, 1935); Maura BSckeler, Das grosse Zeichen. Die Frau als Symbol g6ttlicher Wirklichkeit (Salzburg, 1941); D'Eve tt Marie, ou le destin de la Femme in L'Anneau d'or, 1954; F.J.J. Buytendijk, La femme, ses modes d'etre, de paratt)'e et d'exister (Paris, 1957). A Protestant study is Ch. von Kirschbaum's Die wirkliche Frau (Zurich, 1949). A Greek Orthodox study is: Paul Evdo-kimov, La femme et le salut du monde. Etude d'anthropologie chrdtient~e sur les charismes de la [emme (Paris, 1958). ~TThis role of woman is well illustrated in novels such as the following: Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter: Elizabeth Goudge, Green Dolphin Street; A. J. Cronin, Th~ Citadel. See also Alice Oll~-Laprune, Liens immortels. 24 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN to the sources of life and of elementary realities, more humbly given over to daily occupations. She has also an instinctive sensi-bility which allows her to grasp things in a more concrete, simpler, more comprehensive fashion, to see things as wholes. She gives herself more simply, and perhaps more irrevocably, in committing herself more thoroughly and totally to these things. In this total commitment of woman there is a value attested to by experience which is expressed remarkably well in the con-secration of religious women. This consecration, for the faithful and even for the priesthood, stands as a kind of oasis, a reserve storehouse of the simple life, of total, unsophisticated faith; it stands for homesteads of inviolate faithfulness softened by a gentle delicacy. There are here, along with a beehive's thrifty efficiency, treasure houses of devotedness and all the strength of an abnegation that is without ambition or defense. We will not delay on this longer because we are not sure that this precisely feminine element is so very important in the religious life. The religious life would represent in the Church rather that condition in which woman becomes most active,, closest to assum-ing initiatives and activities comparable to those of men. So she proclaims in a special way a superiority over the differences of sex and over the other conditions which divide man in his "life in Christ.''~8 If femininity exists at this level, it is that of the whole Church who is, according to patristic tradition and its develop-ment of the indications of Scripture, the New Eve beside the New Adam, Christ. That which, in the Church, represents Christ as Master, Spouse, and Father, is not the male religious institute; it is the episcopacy and the priesthood. It is easy to relate these facts to that which was said above about the two aspects of the Church: that of goal or of holiness, alongside which religious life has its special place, and that of means, alongside which the dis-tinction between priests and simple faithful has its place. The Role of Religious Woman in the Church The religious life is, in the Church, the highest approximation of the City of God. It is, in the sphere of collective realities, that portion which is nearest to being the fruit of lasting holiness (reality), that which most closely pertains to the Church as "Com-reunion of Saints" and eschatological reality. This is what we shall consider first in itself and then in its inherent value as a sign. ~sSee Gal 3:28; Col 3:11. 25 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious Religious life is first of all for God. It exists in the Church first of all as an area reserved for God. It represents the first fruits and their special worth as tokens of homage and as free gifts. Sometimes, in a corner of the countryside withdrawn from the traffic of men one finds a religious house which, humanly speaking, vegetates. But when one has become a regular visitor to such a community, one discovers that it is accomplishing an onerous duty of praise or of intercession, far from the notice or even the knowl-edge of men. "To what purpose is this waste?" ~Mt 26:8; Mk 14:4) It is the song of the bride meant only for her spouse; it is that part of the Church seen and known to God alone, to the Father "who sees in secret" (Mt 6:4; 6:18). Above and beyond all its external usefulness and all i~s ordination to extrinsic things, religious life remains a realization of the mystery of the Church or of the mystical body. It is im-possible to'emphasize this too much: before one can cooperate in the building up of the outside of the Church which is for others, it is necessary that it be built up within. A religious community is a cell of the Church; better, it is a Church in miniature.'9 It gives flesh to the mystery of the Church. The Rule of St. Augustine begins with these words, whose fulness of meaning and even whose technical validity arise out of the great Augustinian synthesis on the sacrifice of the "City redeemed as one":2° "A primary purpose for which you are gathered together in one community is that you live in the monastery with unanimity, having but one mind and one heart in the service of God.''~' Members join together in re-ligious life first of all to live the life of charity, to give reality to fraternal union according to the spirit of the Gospel. We cannot meditate too much on this truth, without which our communities will be nothing but a lie and a scandal.'-'~ The great lawgivers of ~On this theme see the valuable study of Dom Emmanuel yon Severus, "Das MSnchtum als Kirche," in Enkainia, ed. by H. Emonds (Dusseldorf, 1956), 230-48; also A. deVogu~, "Le monast~re, Eglise du Christ," in Studia Anselmiana, 42 (Rome, 1957), 25-46. ~'See De Civitate Dei, X, cc. 5 and 6. ~Patrologia Latina, 32, 1738. ~To stimulate reflection on this matter, I permit myself to cite here the two following texts which are hateful and terrible, but important: "Monks are people who bunch together without knowing each other, live together without loving each other, and die without regretting each other." ~Voltaire, L'homme aux quarante ~cus, VIII, Oeuvres completes, xxxiv, Paris, 1829, 60). "The love of God serves them as an excuse to love no one; they do not even love one another. Has anyone ever observed rea] friendship among the devout? But the more they detach themselves from men, the more they demand of men; and one could say that they do not raise themselves to God except to exercise his authority on the earth." (J.-J. Rousseau, Nouve~le Hdloise 6th Part, Letter 8). 26 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the cenobitic life, St. Pachomius and St. Basil, expressly defended the primacy of this life over the anchoritic life on the basis of the fraternal charity and mutual edification (one of the great values in the Gospels) for which it gives the opportunity.~'~ One of the essential articles of the religious life is the achievement of a true fraternal relationship, the condition, complement, and fruit of a true relationship with God. If the Christian is an eschatological man because he is a fellow citizen with the saints, a member of the house of God (Eph 2:19), the monk is all the more truly a Christian. "But our citizenship is in heaven.''24 This is :said and it is true of all the people of God, for they are a people in exile journeying towards their fatherland. We have already received the pledge of the Spirit, the first fruits of our inheritance,2'' but only the pledge and the first fruits. We still live here below subject to the slavery of the flesh and the oppression of the devil, whom our Savior ~calls "the .Prince of this world"; all creation, subject to vanity, groans in the labor of its childbirth hoping for the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rm 8:19-23). The citizens of the heavenly city are, in this life, in the situa-tion of a people occupied by an enemy power. There are those who adjust themselves to it, there are even those who compromise and "collaborate." There are many who do not accept the enemy power, and in the midst of external conditions of servitude, they assert as far as they can their loyalty to their homeland. But some go farther and resist. They escape to the outskirts. There at least they advance With great labor the hour of liberation, they live already a life of liberty and they prepare for everyone the coming of the liberator. If the Church is like the outskirts of the world,'-'~ religious life is so in a more decided way. Religious have left their homes, their parents, their fields, the comforts of normal life, to be unburdened, free to serve the King of the Heavens. They are, by a more meaningful title, the first fruits of the new creation.~7 ~:~See H. Leclercq, "C~nobitisme," in Dictionnaire d'archdologie chrdtienne, II, 2, 3047-3248; 3093 is concerned with Saint Pachomius and 3149-50 with Saint Basil. See also Vie de Pach6me, cc. 3 and 4 in R. Draguet's Les P~res du ddsert (Paris, 1949), 90 ff., and Saint Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, cc. 7 and 25-31 (Patrologia Graeca, 31,928 and 984 ft'.) and his Letter 295 (Patro-logia Graeca, 32, 1037). See also 0. Rousseau, Monachisme et vie religieuse d'apr~s l'ancienne tradition de l'Eglise (Chevetogne, 1957), 80 ff. 24Phil 3:20; Heb 11:13-16. ~SSee 2 Cor 1:12; Rom 8:1-30; Eph 1:14o ~See Yves M. J. Congar, Lay People in the Church (Westminster, 1957), 101. ~TSee Apoc 14:4, "the first fruits for God and for the Lamb." This idea of 27 YVES M.-J. COUGAR Review for Religious Each religious profession is like a guerilla victory by which the power of the occupying forces is checked; and without doubt Christ contemplates it with the sentiments which he expressed when the seventy-two disciples returned from their mission full of joy that the demons had given way before them: "I was watching Satan fall as lightning from heaven" (Lk 10:18). This idea of the religious life as an eschatological life~8 is fre-quently expressed in monastic tradition by the theme of the angelic life.2~ It is a perfectly valid theme. Whether one actually looks at the religious life under the aspect of virginity or under that of the spiritual marriage, which is fundamentally the same thing, or under the aspect of the perpetual praise of God (see in particular E: Peterson), or under that of the anticipation as far as possible of heavenly life, life in the presence of God, and even if one looks at this life in the details of asceticism such as vigils or fasting -- under all these aspects of religious life the theme of the angelic life is authentic, and we wish in no way to exclude it. We are convinced,, nevertheless, that certain expressions can be very dangerous and ought to be criticized in the name of biblical and Christian truth2° Historically these expressions have been somewhat distorted by influences coming from two areas: first, the assumption, without~ a critical attitude sufficiently inspired by the biblical point of view, of certain Platonic and Pythagorean ideas, in particular the idea that man consists of a soul, that the body is a tomb (a~/~a-~l/~a) from which one should free himself as much as possible with the result that perfection is made to consist in the contemplation (Oe¢op;~) of eternal, transcendent truths; second, the development of a wholly speculative theory concerning Adam and the state of paradise. We know how St. Gregory of Nyssa, for example, transposed, the final liberation from the oppo-the first fruits is especially emphasized by Dom Emmanuel von Severus, "Zu den bibiischen Grundlagen des MSnchtums," in Geist und Leben, 26 (1953), 113-22'; see also the same periodical, 27 (1954), 414 ff. -°SThis idea is developed in D. Thalhammer, S.J., Jenseitige Menschen. Eine Deutung des Ordensstandes, 2nd ed. (Freiburg, 1952); in J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948); in L. Bouyer, The Meaning of the Monastic Life (New York, 1955); and in O. Rousseau, op. cir. (footnote 23). ~Wexts on this are innumerable. The principal ones can be found in the works listed in the preceding note, to which the following may be added: E. Peterson, Le livre des anges (Paris, 1954); A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7 (1946), 59-77; J. C. Didier, " 'Angdlisme' ou perspectives eschatologiques?" in M~langes de science retigieuse, 11 (1954), 31-48; U. Ranke-Heinemann, "Zum Ideal der vita angelica im fr~ihen MSnchtum," in Geist und Leben, 29 (1956), 347-57; Emmanuel yon Severus, "Bios aggetikos," in Die Engel in der Welt yon heute, 1957, 56-70. 3°I hope to treat this problem later and on a larger scale with the needed precisions and justifications. 28 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sition of the sexes (above, note 18) into the creative intention and held that sex had been a ~stranger to the nature of man as God had, or would have conceived of him, if He had not known ia advance that man would sin.'~ The result of this double influence, with which other factors certainly have concurred, has been not so much perhaps to give an orientation toward the recovery of a lost state of perfection, which is an eschatological expectation present in the New Testament; it has been rather to superimpose on (and perhaps to substitute for) the duality between this world and the other which is to come as the fruit of Christ's Passover, a duality between this earthly, bodily world and a celestial, in-corporeal world which is to be imitated as closely as. possible. But is the Christian ideal to be found in the condescension of God who for love entered human history as a suffering servant? Or is it instead an angelic perfection, situated in an ideal world of the spirit toward which the soul must elevate itself by certain degrees of ascension and sublimation thereby withdrawing itself progres-sively from the sensible world? We may well fear lest spirituality seek its place between heaven and earth and turn away from the history of the world and the commitment to be a savior to men's miseries, meanwhile adjusting itself to a theocracy in which the idea of subordination of body to soul ambiguously expresses itself as a basically political program of subjection of the "temporal" to the "spiritual." We find something of this, it seems, in the history of Citeaux at the height of its prosperity. At that very time the "They will be like the angels" (Lk 20:36; Mt 22:30) is transposed from eschatology to the condition of monks on the earth, something which had been completely avoided, for example, by St. Augustine2: But, on the other hand, for St. Bernard, the mysticism of that angelic life which can bear such doubtful fruits as we have just mentioned is balanced by an ardent mysticism of Christ in his humanity and of the imitation of Christ. What is important is to see, as St. Therese of Lisieux very brilliantly saw it and acted on it,'~'~ that the perfection of love con- 3*See De opificio hominis, cc. 16-17 (Patrologia Graeca, 46, 181 and 188-92). On the very subtle thought of Gregory see the Introduction of P. J. Laplace to La crdation de l'homme [Paris, 1943). St. Thomas criticizes this position in Summa Theologiae, 1, 98, 2. 3~See "Eglise et Cit~ de Dieu chez quelques auteurs cisterciens h l'~poque des Croisades," in Mdlanges Etienne Gilson [Paris, 1959) and "Henri de Marcy, abb~ de Clairvaux, cardinal-dv~que d'Albano et l~gat pontifical," in Analecta Monastica, 5 (Rome, 1958). 33See the studies of A. Combes [for example, his Saint Therese and Her Mission INew York, 1955]) and Ft. Heer, "Die Heilige des Atomzeitalters," in Sprechen wir yon der Wirklichkeit (Nuremberg, 1955), 177 ft. From the 29 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sists essentially not in the ascending movements of an increasing spiritualization, but in a descent by the paths and the steps of humble service to the point of emptying oneselfi34 One must come to the cross where the salvation of the world is worked out and where, by losing ourselves, we work out our own salvation also. This is scriptural and it is Christian, more .scriptural and more Christian than the theme of the angelic life, traditional and valid though it may be under the conditions which have just been detailed. This angelic theme is a monastic theme. Many modern con-gregations, as they are called, have little or no contact with the great sources of monastic spirituality. They are not, for all that, safe from missteps analogous to those which the theme of the angelic life risks causing. The spirituality proposed in these con-gregations, in so far as it is legitimate to reduce it to a common denominator, is largely inspired by Jesuit authors (Rodriguez) and by the spirituality of the French school, the great French moralists and preachers of the "Great Century." But these sources, valuable certainly and even powerful as inspirers of the true Christian life, seem to bear the mark of the two following influences: first, a certain stoic influence, of which Guillaume du Vair would be a particularly representative example35 (we do not mention him for any other reason and certainly not as one of the sources). This stoic influence, diffuse as it may be, is not negligible. Many mod-ern spiritual programs depend rather largely on Christian stoicism. Second: even the great spiritual men of the French school betray the orientation of the moralist, an insistence on those themes which aim to make man conscious of his baseness and his malice, an insistence on the theme of original sin and its consequences, on the wickedness of the world and of all its aims2~ It seems that this is far from the theme of the angelic life; but the two rejoin in certain eventual consequences. There are fruitful considerations in literary viewpoint see von Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos, pp. 156, 160-61, 264 ff., 457-77, 484. '~4Phil 2:7. ~See F. Strowski, Histoire du sentiment religieux en France au xvii" si~cle, I (Paris, 1910), 18-125; and P. Mesnard, "Du Vair et le N6o-stoicisme," in Revue d'histoire de la philosophie, April, 1928, 142-66. Du Vair begins from original sin and the feelings of penance to arrive at a "life in God" by passing through the practice of the cardinal virtues. ~"Some remarks concerning the influence of this spirituality on the con-gregations of teaching religious may be found in J. G. Lawler, The Christian Imagination: Studies in Religious Thought (Westminster, 1955), 38 ft. It is also necessary here to refer to the Imitation of Christ with its moralistic and individualistic perspective of the opposition between the movements of grace and the movements of nature. 3O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN all these areas, but scriptural monotheism implies another set of values, more thoroughly oriented toward life, toward history, toward the cosmic theme of salvation. The religious life, and more especially the religious life of women, realizes with a particular intensity and purity the voca-tion of the Church to be the Virgin Spouse of the Lord and thus to become spiritually a mother. The application to the Church of these three inseparable themes: virgin, spouse, mother, whose biblical sources are not only abundant, but situated at the heart of the economy of salvation, is frequent in Christian tradition27 To wish to compare them with themes more or less verbally analogous which have been gathered from the history of religions would be to close one's mind to this. Pagan religions are nature religions which transfer to so-called transcendent persons the relationships and needs of men. They sexualise the divinity. The God of biblical revelation is in no way sexualised; He is the living God who unites men to Himself by faith. The whole relationship of alliance and of union which He establishes with man consists in the spiritual relation of faith, and faith includes a total gift, and therefore is not fully realized except by love: "I will espouse thee to me for-ever: and I will espouse thee to me in justice and judgment and in mercy and in commiserations. And I will espouse thee to me in faith" (Hos 2:19-20). That which creates between God and our-selves, between the Church and God, a marital relation is nothing other than this completely spiritual communication in faith. But this communication supposes in us the sole response of a total giving, of receptivity to the coming of God: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word." So faith is the point of contact for an exchange of fidelity. "I will be your God and you will be my people." And therefore it is a point at which a relation of alliance is achieved, a marital union which is at the same time altogether virginal. It is altogether virginal be-cause the union is spiritual. It consists in nothing else than fidelity itself and is preserved by maintaining this fidelity, that is to say, by its very chastity. It is altogether virginal also because in this relationship of faith nothing which comes from the outside or from ~TThe bibliography is abundant; we will cite only the following: S. Tromp, "Ecclesia Sponsa, Virgo, Mater," in Gregorianum, 18 (1937), 3-29; O. Casel, "Die Kirche als Braut Christi nach Schrift, V~itern, und Liturgie," in The-ologie der Zeit, 1936, 91-111; CI. Chavasse, The Bride o] Christ: An Enquiry into the Nuptial Element in Early Christianity (London, 1940); J. C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia: An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washington, 1943); AI. Mfiller, Ecclesia-Maria: Die Einheit Marias und der Kirche (Fribourg, 1951); H. Rahner as cited above, n. 5. 31 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious that which is lower enters in, nothing which breaks or mars its integrity. There is nothing of earthly eros here. Motherhood or fruitfulness comes to this virginal and marital union as its fulfillment. The fathers say and repeat that the Church (or the soul) becomes a virgin spouse by faith, and that she also becomes a mother by faith: virgin spouse by believing, mother by communicating the faith, by engendering men in faith. Again, the relationship is altogether spiritual. It consists in faith and this is why it is superior to every kind of carnal kinship2s Precisely because of this, the vocation of the Church to be both virginal spouse and virginal mother is achieved in all the members in proportion to their fervor. For, according to a theme equally familiar to the fathers and to spiritual authors, every soul is the Church. Nevertheless in so far as God is not fully "all in all" (1 Cor 15:28), the difference between man and woman exists not only as a reality of the world, but projects itself and intervenes in a certain manner in the body of Christ which is the Church. So there exist certain differences in the manner in which men and women exercise the spiritual motherhood of the Church. The priesthood, since it is a position of external authority, is reserved to the man. But this relates to the Church under her aspect as means of grace, and therefore does not touch the religious life. as such. In its external activity a religious institute can just as well exercise apostolic functions which also relate to the Church as means of grace and represent an explicit cooperation with the action of the hierarchy where the motherhood of the Church is achieved. But the religious life as such, the religious life purely and simply, belongs rather to the Church as eschatological realiza-tion of holiness. This devotes it to being the locus of a very pure and altogether spiritual realization of the twofold relationship of virginal marriage and of motherhood. All this is particularly true in the life of women religious be-cause woman is more a being of receptivity and of self-giving: because when she gives herself, and above all whe~ she gives her-self in the integrity of her heart and of her body, she gives herself in a more intense way, a more complete and irrevocable way than man; because having fewer exterior activities and acting less out of duty and more from her heart, she makes good with her fervor that which would have been lost to her in action. For all these ~Read in this sense Mt 12:48-50 (=Mk 3:33-35; Lk 8:21); Lk 11:28. In .the same way St. Paul calls those his brothers of whom he says that he has engendered them and is their father. See above, n. 18. 32 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN reasons religious women, consecrated virgins, play a choice role in the mystery of the Church as virgin spouse of the Lord. They play also their wonderful part in the Church's spiritual motherhood. It is extremely remarkable that this doctrine was recalled to us in a very striking way precisely in a religious woman, Therese of the Child Jesus, who having entered Carmel at the age of sixteen, having died at twenty-four, and having remained unknown by the world during her life, has become not only officially but really the patroness of all Catholic missions2'~ She became all this and remains all this solely in the order of the Communion of Saints. According to St. Augustine, it is pre-cisely the Church as a union of love and a communion of saints which exercises spiritual motherhood.4° And so without exterior activity we can in our prayer and in our laborious efforts at con-version (our penances) include intentions for other men and for all the world's miserable; and we can bear them in the womb of love which is the Church's heart of prayer and charity. It is a part of tradition also that in the Church the strong support the weak (there is no question at all here of any other strength than that which comes from God in faith). This spiritual motherhood is a very profound characteristic of the Church: we believe in the Com-munion of Saints. But experience comes frequently to the aid of our weakness of faith. Who has not appealed to this strength? Who would not be able to bear witness to its reality? The Role of the Religious Woman in the Church as a Sign St. Paul says, "We have been made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men" (1 Cor 4:9). The Church gives a visible body to spiritual gifts. So, for example, the gift of unity in Christ which has been given her becomes the "note" of unity; and that of sanctification by the Holy Spirit, the "note" of holiness. Of all these notes that of holiness is the most insistent; it is'the most efficacious also as a witness to men that the Kingdom of God draws near and calls them. It is also the most directly meaningful note because from the fact of holiness to the presence of God the inference is direct and within the grasp of all. And in this mani- 3~See above, n. 33. Pius XII said that contemplative institutes are "fully and completely apostolic," Sponsa Christi, November 21, 1950 (Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 14). See also the letter to Cardinal Piazza of June 29, 1955, (Acta Apostoltcae Sedis, 47 [~9551, 543). 4°See for example De sancta virginitate, cc. 3 and 5 (Patrologia Latina, 40, 398-99); Sermo Denis, 25, 7 (edition by G. Morin, 162-63); Sermo 215, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 38, 1074). 33 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious festation of holiness which the Church constitutes throughout the course of history, the various expressions of religious life occupy a choice place.4~ Religious communities are living parables for men of the Kingdom of God. If we begin our consideration of this by treating what is more external in religious life, its institutions appear to us first of all as the freest and most genuine expressions of the spirit of the Church on the plane of her social manifestations. We know that the Church is an original institution put into the world by God; she proceeds from spiritual energies which come from above (Mr 16:17-18). But as this divine institution is made up of men and has a historical, terrestrial existence, she projects herself and expresses herself in creations equally historical in which, nevertheless, she injects the inspiration and the mark of her own proper genius. It would not be difficult and it would be extremely interesting to show how this special genius has from the beginning inspired institutions which are essentially communal, and at the same time respectful of the person and of his liberty, and marked with the character of service. There is truly a special Christian genius at the level of social creations.~- The religious life is perhaps the most pure and most represen-tative creation of the spirit of the Church in this area of social realities. It is not in vain that she has always loved to compare herself with the model of the first community of Jerusalem. It is marvelous to see how on the collective and judicial plane religious rules and canon law have known how to translate into institutions and laws thecommands and the inspirations of the Gospel. As a result, the institutions of religious life, just as in a certain degree the canonical life of the Church herself, become a kind of preach-ing of and witnessing to the Gospel. It is no mere coincidence that it is always the same men who fail to recognize the existence of divine positive law in the world, who deny to the Church the quality of being an institution of divine law, and who misjudge, attack, and seek to thwart or sup-press religious life. One thinks of Josephinism, of Jacobinism, of our own French laicism in its virulent form. So the religious life is not only a sign of the heavenly kingdom; it is also, along with the 4XSee Cardinal Dechamps, Entretiens, in Oeuvres, I, 467 ft.; Dora Gr~a, De l'Eglise et de sa divine constitution, II (Paris, 1907), 152. Vernon Johnson was converted by the fact of Therese of Lisieux. 42Chateaubriand and even Montalembert are dated. But there are more recent and more technical studies: E. Chenon, Le rSle social de l'Eglise and the six volumes of the Carlyle brothers, A History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the West. 34 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sacraments and the hierarchy, a sign of the Church as a separated order, a social and public reality placed ,in the world in virtue of the right God has to affirm and to establish his reign.43 In a world which wishes to be completely autonomous, religious life, situated at the heart of the Church's garden, presents the example of a life totally "theonomous." But it is common, it is normal, that signs should be, according to the dispositions of those to whom they are shown, a call to conversion or a sign of contradiction, a sign of opposition. They can also be, even for well-disposed men, signs which scandalize if they become sign~ that lie, or signs that are simply inadequate for their mission and their aims. There is also, in the religious life, and we think particularly of the religious life of women, a human element -- sometimes too human, sometimes not human enough! Pettiness, legalism, authoritarianism, pharisaism, the spirit of ownership, hardness of heart, lack of fraternal com-munion and failure to share human misery, taste for power, a judaic spirit in the way of considering observances, especially the least important ones, precisely those from which the Gospel has liberated us. Among the causes which brought on the death of Christianity, the betrayal of their true spirit in the last centuries of the Middle Ages by a number of monastic and religious insti-tutions has justly been noted.4~ When it is authentic, the religious life is a sign that the spiritual exists. Heaven exists, and that takes the value out of the the goods and the joys of earth. Not that they are not truly goods, truly joys, but they are so relative! For "this world as we see it is passing away" (1 Cor 7:31). The religious life proposes, without the noise of words, the message of death which the Church addresses to the world, not a sorrowful message -- who is more joyful than the religious man, if not the religious woman? -- but a serious and an important one. Again, the religious life verifies in a singular manner the essence of all Christian life, which is an Easter life, a mystery of life and of death, comprehended within the message of 4'~In this connection I recall the beautiful text of A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7, 76: "The function of monachism in the Church seems to be to affirm the citizenship of the Christian in the city of the angels arid to affirm his rights there by the exercise of them." Religious life is one ele-ment of the eschatological right which the Church affirms and translates into the world. On this basis it could be said that religious life is of divine right, not in its various historical forms, but in its essential principle. It flows from the transcendence of the Church with respect to the world and from the right possessed by every Christian to leave the world and to thus affirm his eschatological and spiritual royalty. ~See Fr. Heer, "L'h~ritage Europe," in Dieu vivant, n. 27 (1954), 43. 35 Yvzs M.-J. CO~AR Review for Religious Ash Wednesday, "Remember that you are dust and that you will return to dust" and that of Easter Day, "Remember that you are spirit and that you will return to the Spirit." The religious life, by its mere existence, is a witness to the world that God exists; it calls the world to the obedience of faith. On either side of the chancel which closes in the choir at the abbey of Maria Laach one may read these words of St. Paul:" "I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, exhort you to walk in a worthy manner" (Eph 4:1). The religious life, therefore, has its part in the great kerygmatic function of the Church, that is, in its .lifelong exercise of the mis-sion of announcing the Good News of the Kingdom. It is like a lasting sermon against the spirit of the world. Against its freedom-worshipping and anarchical taste for liberty, religious life affirms that one can bind himself to God, that one can, in the Holy Spirit, make a spiritual thing out of that which is corporeal, and make something stable out of that which changes. Against the world's obsessive defeatism before the evil which it inflicts on itself, the religious life affirms that one can conquer the flesh and push back the empire of the devil. Finally if it is true that the very word ecclesia means con-vocation, a gathering of men in response to a call, the cal! of the Kingdom of God, the religious life situates itself at the very source of the mystery of the Church. For the religious life is, both in its substance as well as in the first act which draws one to enter into it, a total listening to God. It is a reality in the image of Mary, Mary herself being, we know, the type, and even better than the type: the perfect personification of the Church as holiness. It is possible to think that in the wide sense everything is a vocation, because everything is a response to the will of God. But there are vocations in the strict sense, and it is correct to speak of "religious vocation." In the Church, as we have seen, the strong support the weakest; docility in the following of that which is strictly a voca-tion is like a compelling example, a sign and a support for the difficult fidelity to vocations in their larger acceptation. The abso-luteness of the response of religious women to their call supports the response of all others. It is necessary that religious women know that they contribute in this way to the continuation of the whole Church, somewhat as each star in the firmament is necessary for the balance of the whole. Spiritually we all have family respon-sibilities. A last remark of some importance ecclesiologically on the subject of the religious life as a response to a special call. In the 36 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN beginnings of Christianity, baptism ratified a personal choice, an eventually dangerous one, of the faith. It was the term of a con-version. It was truly a second birth, not only in the dogmatic sense which is always true, but in the moral sense and on the psycho-logical plane. Psychologists distinguish, since Francis W. New-man, 4~ the "once born" and the "twice born": those who are simply what they were at their entrance into the world plus the results of their being" formed by it; and those who have known a revela-tion, had a decisive ~xperience, heard a call, and are truly, per-sonally, born a second time. A man baptised at the termination of a personal conversion is, psychologically and morally, a "twice born." But, in the general practice, almost universal and one might even say automatic practice of baptism of the newly born, the Church is no longer made up of the twice born except by way of exception. But it is necessary that their moral race always be represented in her midst. She is "twice born" individually by the more or less large number of faithful who are truly born of a second birth. She is "twice born" institutionally especially because of the religious life. Moreover, historically the fact has often been brought out46 that the monastic life developed at the moment when, with the end of persecution and danger and the beginning of the favor of the powerful, large masses of people entered the Church, en-dangering the strength of her leaven. The vocation to asceticism has after a fashion taken the place of the vocation to martyrdom; monks have in a way taken over the status of the martyrs as signs of an absolute response given to an absolute call. The Church's religious life always has this mission of signifying that the Christian life is a second birth whose principle is a call. We will not treat here -- we have already done it briefly elsewhere47 -- an interesting problem, but more theoretical than practical, which was posed by the researches of M. Weber and E. Troeltsch. According to these Protestant authors, religious orders answer within the Church to the needs and the religious tempera-ment which outside the Church produces sects. These would be, sociologically speaking, of the "sect" type, not of the "church" type in so far as they are groupings, first, of volunteers, men who 4~The Soul. Its Sorrows and Its Aspirations. 3rd ed., 1852, 89 ft. 4GFor example, see M. Viller, "Martyre et perfection," in Revue d'ascd-tique et mystique, 6 (1925), 4-25; L. Bouyer, op. cit. n. 28, 89 ft. and his Vie de saint Antoine (Fontenelle, 1950); J. Winandy, Ambroise Autpert, moine et thdologien (Paris, 1953), 56; Ed. E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr: The Monk as the Successor of the Martyr (Washington, 1950). 47Vraie et [ausse r~/orme dans l'Eglise (Paris, 1950), 288-92 (includes bibli-ography). 37 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious come together in a group on the basis of a personal decision and who thus do not presuppose the existence of the group but con-stitute it; second, men who have achieved a break with the world and prefer the Gospel's opposition to terrestrial life to its universal-ism which necessarily involves compromise. Troeltsch sees in religious orders an ecclesiastical naturalization of tendencies which outside the Church result in sects. There is much truth in the analysis of Troeltsch, but only on its own psycho-sociological plane. Both above and below this level it errs. Without prejudice to other of his well made points, we be-lieve we have shown from the inside, that is to say from the view-point of the Church herself, that it is the mystery of the Church which is found to be the essential element in the life of religious orders and of each of their members. By way of conclusion, we would like to answer a question which it is impossible not to put in the context of what we have been considering. Is the religious life or is it not of the essence of the Church, and if it is, by what title? Papal teaching furnishes an answer and it will suffice merely to present it and explain it. Faced with "Americanism," Leo XIII already affirmed that religious orders are of great importance to the mission of the Church.48 But it was necessary to connect their existence with the end of the Church. The Church would not fully fulfill her mission if the institutions of religious life were lacking. If the end of the "missions," in the strict canonical sense of the word, is to "plant the Church" in such a way that she has in a given country or among a given people all her essential institutions, all the means of existence and of action, one understands why Pius XI demanded that on the missions as many religious orders and congregations as possible should be instituted, and that they should be made up of indigenous elements created in new and better forms, where the need for such arose29 His Holiness Pius XII made the matter still clearer in the constitution Provida mater of February 2, 1947, the charter of secular instutes. The two states of cleric and layman, he said, exist by divine right and are necessary to the Church in so far as she is a society constituted and structured hierarchically; they pertain to the essential structure (to the building) of the Kingdom of God 4sSee his letter Testern benevolentiae to Cardinal Gibbons, January 22, 1899, in Actes de Ldon XIII (Paris: Bonne Presse), V, 322-25; also the letter of December 23, 1900 to Cardinal Richard, ibid., VI, 188-89. ~gSee the encylical Rerurn Ecclesiae of February, 1926, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 18 (1926), 74. 38 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN on earth.5° The Church recognizes a third state, the religious state, which is common to the two preceding states, since it includes members of the faithful who, canonically, belong to the clerical or to the lay state; this religious state is bound by a strict and peculiar relationship to the end of the Church, sanctification.5~ One can say, then, that the religious state is not essential to the Church considered in her formal elements or in her static constitutives. A bishop and faithful suffice for a Church. From this comes the well-known definition of St. Cyprian, "A people one with its priest and a flock adhering to its shepherd, these are the Church.''~ Nevertheless, as soon as the Church lives she exercises the activities for which she was put into the world. These are the activities of the sanctification of men, that is to say, of their sub-mission to the Kingdom of God and, by that fact, of their entry into her communion. Here it is that the religious life steps in as the social form of existence most strictly conformed to the needs and the conditions of the Kingdom of God. And the religious life was first seen historically under the form of the institution of con° secrated virgins. Evidently, looked at in one or other of its par-ticular forms, religious life is a creation of the Church and stands out in her history. But, looked upon in principle, that is to say as the call to live only for God and for His kingdom, it holds a place at the very heart of the Church. In her quality as bride of Christ, it is included in the obligations and the laws of holiness which this Church pursues as her proper end. ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 39 (1947), 116. In his al]ocution Annus sacer, the Holy Father, citing canon 107, said that "on earth the structure of the Kingdom of God consists of a double element" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 27). ~See Provida Mater Ecclesiae and also Annus sacer, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 (1951), 28: "[The religious state] exists and is important, because it is closely connected to the proper end of the Church which is to lead men to the attainment of sanctity." ~2Epistula 66, 8 (Hartel's edition, p. 732; Patrologia Latina, 4, 406 where it is listed, however, as Epistle 69). 39 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. THIS ARTICLE will provide a summary of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during August and Sep-tember, 1959. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Priesthood On August 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 545479), Pope John XXIII issued the second encyclical of his pontificate. The encyclical was entitled Sacerdotii Nostri primordia (The First Days of Our Priesthood); oc-casioned by the Pontiff's desire to honor the hundredth anniversary of the death of St. John Vianney, Cur~ of Ars, the document is devoted to a consideration of the priesthood as exemplified in the life of the saint. The introductory paragraphs recall the temporal links between the official glorification of St. John and the Pontiff's own priesthood: the future saint was beatified shortly after the Pope's own ordination to the priesthood; the first bishop the Pope served, Bishop Radini- Tadeschi, was consecrated on the day of the beatification; and the Pope received the fullness of the priesthood in the year (1925) when the Cur~ of Ars was declared a saint. The Holy Father then lists the great papal documents on the priesthood that have appeared during the present century: Pius X's Haerent animo (Acta Pii X, 4, 237-64); Plus XI's Ad catholici sacerdotii fastigium (AAS, 28 ~19361, 5-53); Pius XII's Menti Nostrae (AAS, 42 [1950], 657-702); and the same Pontiff's three allocutions on the priesthood inspired by the canonization of Plus X (AAS, 46 119541, 313-17; 666-77). To these documents the Pope has now added his own in the hope that it may aid priests to preserve and increase that divine friendship which is at once the joy and strength of the priestly life. In expressing the purpose of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ remarked that he intended to retrace the chief traits of the holiness of the Cur~ of Ars, since these emphasize those aspects of the priestly life which, while always essential, are today so vital that the Pontiff has deemed it his apostolic duty to call attention to them. Priestly Asceticism and Mortification In the first of the three parts of the main body of the encyclical the Pope considered the priestly asceticism and mortification of the Cur~. To speak of the saint, he began, is to evoke the figure of an 4O ROMAN DOCUMENTS exceptionally mortified priest who for the love of God deprived himself of nourishment and sleep, practiced severe, penances, and exercised a heroic self-renouncement. His example, the Holy Father said, should recall to all the important place of the virtue of penance in the perfec-tion proper to the priesthood. While it is true that priests as such are not bound by divine law to the evangelical counsels, still this does not mean that the priest is less bound than religious to strive for evangelical perfection of life. Rather the accomplishment of the priestly functions "requires a greater interior sanctity than even the religious state does" (St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 8, c). And if the evangelical counsels are not imposed on the priest by virtue of his clerical state, nevertheless they are offered to him, as to all Christians, as the safest road to the longed for goal of Christian perfection. The Cur~ of Ars, continued the Pope, is a model of evangelical poverty; he lived totally detached from the things of this world. Freed in this way from the bonds of material things, he could thereby be entirely open to all those who suffered and who flocked to him for solace. His disinterestedness made him especially attentive to the poor whom he treated with tenderness and respect, convinced that to con-temn the poor is to contemn God Himself. Priests, then, if they possess material things, should not cleave to them with cupidity; rather should they recall the directives of canon law (c. 1473) according to which what is left over from ecclesiastical benefices should be used in favor of the poor and of pious causes. The Pontiff, however, made it clear in the closing part of this section that he does not approve the abject poverty to which many priests in small towns and in the country are reduced, and he urged the faithful to cooperate with the bishops to see that the sacred ministers be not lacking in what is necessary for their daily sustenance. Turning to the second of the evangelical counsels, the Vicar of Christ then pointed out that all through his life the Cur~ was mortified in his body and that this was achieved by his constant and careful observance of chastity. His example, the Pope pointed out, is most necessary today; for in many places priests must live in an atmosphere of excessive license and pleasure. And at times they must live in such an atmosphere unsupported by the sympathetic understanding of the faithful they serve. In spite of these difficulties John XXIII called upon priests to show forth in their entire lives the splendor of the virtue of chastity, that noblest ornament of their sacred order, as Pius X called it. The chastity of the priest, he added, will not enclose him in a sterile egoism; for as the Cur~ of Ars himself once said: "The soul that is adorned with the virtue of chastity can not but love others; for such a person has found the source and origin of all love---God." The next component of the Cur~'s asceticism to be considered by the Holy Father was his obedience. The Pontiff emphasized that the 41 l~ F. SMtT~ Rewew for Rehgmus "I promise" of the Cur$'s ordination ceremony was the occasion of a permanent self-renouncement that lasted throughout forty years. From early youth the ardent desire of the Cur~ had been for solitude, and his pastoral responsibilities were a heavy burden preventing him from the fulfillment of this desire; many times he tried to be freed from his pastoral work but always remained obedient to the will of his bishop, convinced as he was of the Gospel phrase: "Whoever hears you, hears me" (Lk 10:16). The Vicar of Christ then expressed the hope that the priests of today would see in the Curg the grandeur of obedience and would recall the words of Pius XII: "Individual holiness as well as the efficacy of all apostolic work finds its solid foundation in constant obedience to the hierarchy." Accordingly priests should endeavor to develop in themselves the sense of the filial relationship by which they are united to Mother Church. Prayer and Devotion to the Eucharist In the second principal division of the document, John XXIII reflected on St. John as a model of prayer and of devotion to the Eu-charist. Prayer, he said, was as important in the saint's life as was penance and mortification. His love for prayer was shown in his long nightly vigils of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament; the tabernacle of his parish church became for him the center from which he drew the strength necessary for his own personal life and for the effectiveness of his apostolic endeavors. This example of the Cur6, the Vicar of Christ pointed out, is sorely needed by the priests of today; for they are keenly sensible of the effectiveness of action and hence easily tempted to a dangerous activism. The Cur~ of Ars should convince priests everywhere that they must be men of prayer and that they can be such, no matter how heavy the press of apostolic labors may at times become. The prayer of the Cur~, he continued, was especially a Eucharistic prayer; for nothing in the life of a priest can replace silent and prolonged prayer before the altar. Nor should it be forgotten that Eucharistic prayer in the fullest sense of the word is to be found in the sacrifice of the Mass. The celebration of the Mass is an essential part of the priestly life, for in what does the apostolate of the priest consist if not in the gathering together of the people of God around the altar? It is through the Mass that in one generation after another the mystical body of Christ that is the Church is built up. Moreover the entire sanctifica-tion of the priest must be modeled on the sacrifice he offers; the priest must make his own life a fitting sacrifice, a participation in the expiatory life of the Redeemer. It was for this reason that the Cur~ used to ob-serve that if priests lose the first fervor of their ordination it is because they do not celebrate piously and attentively. 42 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Pastoral Zeal In the third part of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ delineates the pastoral zeal of St. John Vianney. The Curg's life of asceticism, he observed, together with his life of prayer was the source from which flowed the effectiveness of his ministry; in him is verified once more the statement of Christ: "Without me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). As a result, the Curg was a model shepherd of souls who knew his flock, protected it from danger, and led it with authority and wisdom. His example, the Pope continued, included three points of utmost import-ance. The first of these was his keen appreciation of his pastoral re-sponsibilities. From the beginning he conceived of his pastoral work in heroic fashion and expressed his attitude in one of his early prayers: "Grant, O God, that~ the people entrusted to me may be converted. For this I am prepared to suffer all the days of my life whatever You may wish." Following the example of apostles of all ages he saw in the cross the one great effective means of saving souls; so it was that he could advise a fellow priest who was disappointed in the results of his apostolic endeavors that prayer, supplications, sighs, and groans were insufficient unless there was added to them fastings, vigils, and bodily chastisement. Besides his general sense of his pastoral responsibilities the Curg manifested his pastoral zeal by his interest and care for preaching and catechizing. Up to the time of his death St. John never ceased to preach, to instruct, to denounce evil, and to lead souls towards God. This should remind today's priests, the Pope said, that everywhere and at all times they must be faithful to their duty of preaching; for, as Pius X insisted, no task of the priest is more important than this. And in their reflections upon their duty to teach, priests should remember that they preach more by their lives than by their words. The third element in the pastoral zeal of the Cur~ of Ars was, according to the encyclical, his work as confessor. It was this form of his ministry that became the real martyrdom of his life. His fifteen hours a day in the confessional would have been difficult in any case; but these were spent by a man already exhausted by fasting, penances, and infirmities. It can be said, the Pope continued, that the Cur~ lived for sinners; their conversion and sanctification was the aim of all his thoughts and of all his activities. Like the Cur~ priests must devote themselves to the work of the confessional, for it is there that the mercy of God meets and overcomes the malice of men. And they must set their people a good example in this matter by their own regular and fervent use of the sacrament of penance. In the conclusion to the encyclical the Pontiff expressed the desire that the centenary of the Curg may arouse in all priests a desire to accomplish their ministry and especially their own perfection as gen-erously as possible. No problem facing the Church today, he added, 43 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious can be solved without priests. As Plus X said: "To promote the King-dom of Christ throughout the world, nothing is more necessary than a holy clergy." Similarly St. John himself pointed out to his bishop: "If you wish to convert your diocese, you must make saints of all your priests." The Pontiff went on to urge the bishops of the world to make the care of their priests their first solicitude; he exhorted the faithful to pray for priests and to contribute to their sanctification; and he pleaded with Christian youth to reflect that "the harvest is great, but the harvesters are few" (Mt 9:37) and that entire peoples are today enduring a spiritual starvation far greater than any hunger of the body. Allocutions, Addresses, Messages On July 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 586-89), the Holy Father addressed a congress of the blind and those interested in assisting the blind of the world. Pointing out to his audience that in Jesus' ministry of healing the first place was reserved for the blind, the Pontiff went on to deliver a message of hope to the blind of the world. They must remember, he began, that they have a suffering to offer up to God. In spite of all efforts to ease the lot of the blind, they will always be subject to dis-couragement, loneliness, and the weight of sorrow that blindness carries with it. Yet they must recall that according to the Apostle (Col 1:24) men must fill up what is lacking to Christ's passion and that in the redemptive plan the Lord has need of the daily offering of suffering on the part of the blind. The Vicar of Christ also pointed out that the blind have a definite mission to perform in this world, the mission of silent example that only one thing matters in this world: the love with which the will of God is accomplished. And he added that nothing on tbis earth is loss, as long as conformity with God's will is present. In the concluding part of his address the Pope recalled to his listeners that their goal is that of eternal life and that their journey thither is supported by the words of Christ: "Whoever follows me walks not in darkness, but has the light of life" (Jn 8:12). Blindness, he ended, can prepare those afflicted with it for the shining luminosity which will come in the next life from the glorified Christ. On August 20, 1959 (AAS, 639-41), the Pontiff radioed a message to the Second World Sodality Congress held at Newark, New Jersey. He told the sodalists that they were in the first ranks of the Church's army and stressed in their lives the role of their consecration to the Blessed Virgin, a consecration which of its nature includes the proposal to keep it throughout life. From this consecration, he continued, arises the desire to wish for nothing except what is pleasing to God and the resolution to strive by prayer, action, and example to serve the Church and to work for the eternal salvation of souls. On July 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 584-85), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Prime Minister of Japan on the occasion of that 44 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS dignitary's official visit to the Holy See. On August 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 638o39), he delivered a radio message to the people of.Honduras on the occasion of the official consecration of their nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, telling them to strive to live in the grace of God, to preserve the sanctity of the family, and to maintain union and concord among themselves. On June 30, 1959 (AAS, p. 589), the Holy Father sent a written message to the Tenth World Boy Scout Jamboree held in the Philippine Islands. In the message he pointed out that the boy scout movement can produce admirable fruits in accordance with the ideals of Christian charity and universal brotherhood. Miscellaneous Documents By the apostolic letter, "Caritatis unitas," of May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 630-33), the Vicar of Christ approved the confederation of the various congregations of the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine. At the same time he also approved the general principles which are to govern the confederation and directed the members of the confedera-tion to draw up specific statutes for the confederation which should then be submitted to the Holy See for approval. A later apostolic letter, Salutiferos cruciatus Christi, dated July 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 634-36), was directed to the Passionists. In the letter the Pontiff approved the revised form of the Passionists' constitutions and rules. He noted that the revision was undertaken in an effort to adapt the institute to the needs of the times and observed that in the revision the primary and fundamental characteristics of the institute had been reasserted, strengthened, and made more effective. On July 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 592-93), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the Office and Mass of St. Lawrence of Brindisi, confessor and doctor. The text of the Office, of the Oration of the Mass, and of the notices to be inserted into the martyrology is given in AAS, pp. 593-94. Another decree of the same Congregation was dated February 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 590-92); this decree approved the introduction of the causes of the Servant of God Salvatore Lilli (1853-1895), professed priest of the Order of Friars Minor, and his companions, all of Whom were put to death in hatred of the faith. In the period under survey three documents of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary appeared. Under the date of July 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 595-96), the Penitentiary published the revised text of the act of dedi-cation to Christ the King as well as its attached indulgences. This document is given in full on pages 3 and 4 of the present issue of RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. On August 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 655-56), the Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to be recited by semi-narians for their parents. Seminarians who devoutly and contritely recite the prayer for their parents may gain an indulgence of fifty 45 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious days; and once a month they may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer for a whole month. On the same date (AAS, p. 656), the Penitentiary announced that the faithful who in a church, a public oratory, or (in the case of those legitimately using it) a semi-public oratory privately perform the pious exercise commonly called the holy hour in memory of the passion, death, and ardent love of our Lord Jesus Christ may gain a plenary indulgence, if they have gone to confession, received Com-munion, and prayed for the intentions of the Holy Father. This new concession of an indulgence for this practice is not intended to abrogate the partial indulgence of ten years mentioned in the Enchiridion in-dulgentiarum (Manual of Indulgences), 1952 edition, n. 168. On May 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 647), the Sacred Consistorial Congrega-tion appointed Archbishop Concha of Bogot~ military vicar of Columbia. Views, News, Previews IN A PREVIOUS issue (Review for Religious, 18 [1959], 237), the beginning of a new quarterly, Jesus Caritas, was noted. Response to the new magazine, which is devoted to the spirituality of P~re de Foucauld, has been sufficient to warrant the continuation of its publi-cation. The latest issue has been that of September, 1959. The yearly subscription price has been set at $1.00; in Canada and the United States subscription orders should be sent to: Jesus Caritas 700 Irving Street, N.E. Washington 17, D. C. The first congress of the Confederation of Benedictine Congrega-tions to be held since the promulgation of the confederation's laws by Pius XII in 1952 took place during the latter part of September, 1959. At the congress Dom Benno Gut, Abbot of Einsiedeln in Switzerland, was elected Abbot Primate of the Confederation. The new primate was born on April 1, 1897, was professed in 1918, and ordained in 1921. After studies and a teaching career at Sant'Anselmo in Rome, he was elected abbot of Einsiedeln in 1947. The Cassinese Benedictine Congregation, largest of the fifteen included in the Benedictine Confederation, in a general chapter at Subiaco during October, 1959, elected Dom Celestino Gusi, Abbot of Manila, as the eleventh Abbot General of the congregation. The Graduate Department of Religious Education, Immaculate Heart College, 2021 North Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, Cali- 46 January, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS fornia, announces a two-week course in canon law for religious superiors, which will grant two units of graduate credit. The course, conducted by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Maryland, will be open to major and local su-periors of all communities of sisters. It is scheduled for the afternoons of June 28 to July 9, 1960. The tuition is $32. The fourth course in the new program in ascetical theology, which is offered in the Graduate Department of Religious Education, Im-maculate Heart College, will be given by the Reverend Eugene Burke, C.S.P., professor of dogmatic theology at Catholic University of America, from July 11-15, 1960. The course is entitled "The Life of Grace and Growth of Virtue" and grants one unit of graduate credit. Sisters who did not apply for admission to the M.A. program when it began in October, 1959, may apply for admission now. Residence ac-commodations are available for the five-day course at Holy Spirit Retreat House in Los Angeles. All reservations must be made before June 1, 1960, and be accompanied by a ten-dollar deposit. Room and board is $20; tuition is $17.50. Inquiries should be directed to Sister Mary Thecla, I.H.M., Dean of the Graduate School, Immaculate Heart College. A new publication that should prove both interesting and important is the Seminary Newsletter, the first issue of which appeared in October, 1959: The Newsletter is issued by the Seminary Department of the National Catholic Educational Association and "is meant to be a clearinghouse of information about seminaries and seminary training, especially from the academic point of vigw; a clearinghouse of ideas, projects, and results of research." Included in the first issue of the Newsletter is an informative statistical report on Catholic seminaries in the United States. According to the report, during the academic year 1958-1959 there were 381 major and minor seminaries in the United States; of these 99 were diocesan institutions, the other 282 belonging to religious orders and congregations. The report notes "that 131 of the 381 seminaries in the United States have been founded since 1945; 108 since 1950. This means that 34% of the total number have been founded since World War II, 28% of them since 1950. It represents a 53 % increase in the number of seminaries since 1945 and a 40% increase since 1950." The report gives 38,503 as the total num-ber of young men studying for the priesthood in the United States. This number includes besides minor and major seminarians 2082 novices as well as 920 scholastics who have interrupted their seminary studies to teach. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 304-05, Father Gallen discussed the quest~ion whether more American congregations are be- 47 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Rewew for Rehgmus coming pontifical and presented some statistics on the matter covering the years 1943 to 1957. A study of L'attivit~ della Santa Sede nel 1958 (The Activity of the Holy See in 1958), published in 1959 by the Vatican Polyglot Press gives data from the year 1958 on the same matter. According to the report of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that is given in the volume, during 1958, fifteen institutes received the decree of praise; two of these were in the United States: the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (M.S.B.T.) of Philadelphia founded in 1916 and the Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Trinity (M.S.SS.T.) of Washington founded in 1921. The Congregation also reported that during 1958 there were seventeen institutes which re-ceived the definitive approval of their constitutions; of these none was in the United States. The Congregation's report also contained informa-tion about secular institutes: two secular institutes were granted diocesan establishment, one received the decree of praise, and one, the decree of final approbation; none of these four was in the United States. During the same year the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of the Faith granted the decree of praise to one institute in Ireland and gave definitive approval to the Daughters of Mary of Uganda, Africa. It is interesting to note that this last institute is the first pontifical African institute for women. ( uestions and Answers IThe following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Our constitutions command the mistress to be with the novices always and, if she should be absent from the house, to learn on her return everything that happened during her absence. I do not think that any mistress has followed either injunction literally, but these two prescriptions have caused a highly exaggerated surveillance. Shouldn't the observance of both be tempered by intelligent prudence? Yes. The first injunction, that the mistress should be with the novices always, is in many constitutions, the second only in very few. The first injunction is also and unfortunately observed in many insti-tutes. This is an evidently false spiritual pedagogy. It simply does not work in any field of the development of character and it is unworthy of the religious state, which is a spontaneous, voluntary, and personal dedication of oneself to Christ. The fundamental purpose of the novice-ship is to give the novice a profound consciousness of God, not of the master or mistress. The novice is to be led to a convinced personal dedication of herself to God; her life is to be a personal committment, 48 January, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS not forced external observance; she is to be trained to think for herself, to personal decisions, and to a sense of responsibility and reliability. The noviceship should be a school that will equip the novice for the life she will actually have to live. She should be instructed and guided but allowed sufficient freedom of action; otherwise you will know what she appears to be but not what she is. She should be checked and corrected, and even more frequently than is commonly done; but this does not demand unceasing vigilance. The more a superior tries to see, the less he will learn. No superior has to try to see everything in order to learrL what he should know. I hazard the conjecture that reticence about interior matters increases in direct proportion to external observation. That the novice mistress or her assistant should be with the novices frequently is intelligent and prudent; that she should be with them always is simply destructive of the purpose intended. Only God. can see everything, and God as one's judge is not the motive of the religious life. The following quotation from a religious woman contains several thought-provoking observations. The principles for the formation of character in congregations are for the most part taken from a psychology of a distant past. This, in the case of women, only aimed at creating habits of will power, furnishing the mind with knowledge learnt by heart, and very little was done to appeal to the interest. They disregarded the education of the senses, any development of initiative and sense of responsibility and the deep needs of feelings. The new psychology seeks to develop the virtues and activities that they may adapt themselves and form personalities . Deeper problems lie in the change of the feminine way of living. In the depth of her being the woman is rather passive. In past centuries the life of a woman matched this interior disposition, but today matters have changed. Modern life forces woman to greater independent activity. She has had to take over responsible work both in private and public life. Her mode of living gets nearer to the masculine type, though at the expense of her individuality. (Sister Agnes, S.I-I.C., Religious Life Today, 162-63.) 2 Our constitutions do not mention at all the canonical requisites for a higher superior. You have already explained these partially. Will you please explain them fully? Canon 504 demands the three personal qualities listed below for the valid election or "appointment of any higher superior of men or women. Age is the only variable element among the three canonical requirements. All of these three impediments established in canon 504 are dispensable but only by the Holy See. The higher superiors in the sense of this canon are the abbot primate; abbot superior of a mon-astic congregation; the abbot .of an independent monastery, even if the monastery appertains to a monastic congregation; the mothers general and regional of federations and superioresses of monast

Issue 52.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1993. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-535-3048 ° FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus ~nailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Ass#tant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents 806 feature Religious Life and Conversion Language Dennis J. Billy CSSR provides a language of conversion so that religious might more readily integrate their individual lives with their corporate existences. 817 828 835 842 spirituality Are We Relating to God in a New Way? Gerald M. Fagin SJ proposes five polarities which are always present in our spiritual lives. Desire, Asking, and Answers A. Paul Dominic SJ emphasizes the importance of praying from our desires by exampleg from the Bible. Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Judette A. Gallares RC explores covenantal faith through the symbol of companionship portrayed between Ruth and Naomi. The Spirituality of Surrender John P. Mossi SJ proposes three models of a spiritual surrender-ing as a means of coming home to God. 849 865 ecumenism The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious Jeffrey Gros FSC highlights the importance of ecumenical for-mation and collaboration for women and men religious. The Religious Call of Ecumenism Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS suggests ways in which the needs of the ecumenical movement can well be met by the resources of religious communities. 802 Reviezv for Religious 870 875 ministry Frustrations--Jesus' Ministry and Ours James Martin SJ seeks a fresh perspective on dealing with frustra-tions arising from ministry to the poor. Jesuit Spirituality and Catholic Higher Education Claude N. Pavur SJ stresses the importance of an Ignatian spiritu-ality, invigorating the efforts of educators in the Jesuit tradition. poverty 886 Option for the Poor: God's Pedagogy Marcello Azevedo SJ analyzes the meaning and life-applications of the phrase "option for the poor" in terms of our faith. 893 Who Evangelizes Whom? The Poor Evangelizers John F. Talbot SJ explores the evangelizing potential of the poor. 898 a life of promise Two Cheers for Celibacy William McDonough clarifies the meaning of prie, stly celibacy by combining Robert Bellah's use of institution and Thomas Aquinas's moral vision. 911 Charismatic Renewal and Consecrated Life 920 Susan Rakoczy IHM reflects from a r~ligious-life experience of twenty-five years on the blessings of the charismatic renewal in regard to consecrated life. Death as a Community Event Annette Frey SC shares the stqry of a friend's illness and death as an integrating factor in community life. departments 804 Prisms 927 Canonical Counsel: Lumen Gentium's Chapter 6: Religious 933 Book Reviews 951 Indexes to Volume 52 November-December 1993 803 prisms ~oho are the people by whom you have been most influenced? Many of us must at one time or another have tried to answer this question for ourselves or at the inquiry of others: Precisely which people have strongly influenced my life? Some may quickly name their fathers and mothers; others go on to name favorite teachers or special friends. Still others may name people in world affairs or in the worlds of sports, the arts, or medicine. Probably not very many of us spontaneously turn to the men and women whom the church has declared holy and named as outstanding members of the communion of saints. Yet the reason why the church calls our attention to these people is to allow us to see in other followers of Christ what we hope to become. Just as the church of the Eastern rites emphasizes icons that give us a glimpse of the world of the holy, so the Latin-rite church proposes the study of the lives of ~aints so that we may be inspired by them and formed and then moved along a path of holiness as Jesus' apostles. Perhaps at one time many of us did not appreciate how the more medieval theology of mediators needed updating like so many timebound ways of expressing our faith and its practices--the process mandated by Vatican II. Now it seems that we stand more ready for and in need of the kind of influence which our fellow Christians, can-onized and otherwise esteemed, can exercise in ore: lives. No longer do we, almost superstitiously, look to Mary or other chosen saints for special favors. Instead we take our direction from the Vatican II understanding and descrip-tion of Mary's place in the communion of saints under the 804 Review for Religious specially privileged titles of mother and first disciple. And so we look to our favorite men and women saints particularly in their relationship to us as brothers and sisters and as our fellow disci-ples. If Christians in general are exhibiting a greater need for this kind of influence in their devotional lives, even more might men and women religious look to the holy ones special to their con-gregations for living the kind of discipleship charismatically appro-priate to their following of Christ. ~;Vhether it be the contemporary retelling of saints' lives or recapturing their spirit in new artistic portrayals or recovering prayers of theirs that are appropriate to our times--there still are ways for holy men and women to touch us in our daily living. We may more readily find light coming to us in dark moments of our experience from the uncovered lamp of these human lives than from any theoretical studies or documents. We may also find ourselves more energized for entering into the evangelizing mission of Jesus through the radiance of their inspiration and example. Probably even more surprising than our slowness in naming saints as major influences in our lives is the not infrequent omis-sion of even the name Jesus. As we enter into the Advent and Christmas seasons, maybe more fully than Jesus being "the reason for the season," we might say that the reason for the season is for us to remind ourselves that Jesus is the unique influence upon our lives all year long. Jesus is the one who has influenced how we live, how we pray, how we interact, how we die. Jesus is the one who calls us to a way of following; Jesus is the Teacher, and we all remain the lifelong learners, the ones in continuing formation. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves another question. Is it true that for us not to name Jesus as the great influence of our lives is more than just a memory slip? Does our answer uncover for us that our everyday, busy lives are being spent on behalf of lesser gods than the God Incarnate? The question is worth more than a Christmastime reflection. That the peace and grace of God, Emmanuel, be richly yours is the wish of all the staff of Review for Religious. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1993 805 DENNIS J. BILLY Religious Life and Conversion Language The crisis faced by many of today's religious goes beyond the breakdown of their founding myths and the resulting lack of purpose in their corporate existences. While many (I daresay most) are at least peripherally aware of having lost in recent years something of great importance for their lives as professed religious, they usually have no idea whatsoever of how to retrieve it or what to put in its place. Nor are they very articulate about just what it is they have lost and why precisely they want it back. Confronted by their own aging, a steady flow of ygunger members from their ranks, and fewer and fewer vocational prospects, many have become disillusioned and desire some sort of immediate respite from their mount-ing misfortunes. They pursue it in any number of ways. Some display a nostalgic desire for the not too distant past--"the good old days," as.they are called, which were probably never quite so good as they now seem. Others resign themselves passively to their "inevitable corporate extinction," an increasingly attractive choice for many. Still others sink deeper and deeper into the quagmire of confusion and doubt about the relevance of religious life in the postmodern world--which does nothing but com-pound an already complex and. difficult situation. Regardless of the motivations behind them or their point Dennis J. Billy CSSR is author of the recently published Evangelical Kernels: A Theological Spirituality of Religious Life (Mba House, 1993). His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome; Italy. 806 Review for Religious of origin, none of these responses are adequate to the crisis at hand. In order to move forward, today's religious must choose a path other than that of denial and escape. At this critical point of their history, what they need is a language of conversion that will enable them to give an honest account of themselves, will help them to integrate their private lives with their corporate existences, and will show them how they, as a group, can con-front the cynical doubts that writhe beneath the surface of their professional respectability. Conversion Language A language of conversion must speak to both the mind and the heart. It must make sense to.people in a way that will satisfy their intellectual longings. It must also motivate them to exanaine their situation in life with renewed strength and vigor--as if with dif-ferent eyes. More importantly, it must reshape their interpretation of experience so that, through the action of divine grace, they see their denial for what it is and then find it possible to realign their personal powers of commitment with those of the religious insti-tute to which they belong. Only from such a realignment will dusty and creaky institu-tional structures and the people who stubbornly inhabit and main-tain them have any hope of being refurbished for a brighter future. Failure to achieve this renewal of human heart and human social structure will result only in more of the same problem: individ-ualism amid corrosive social ills; continuing loss of confidence in and commitment to one's religious community; the persistence of the "double life" syndrome that has plagued so many first-world congregations since the Second Vatican Council. By most assessments, the very future of religiou~ life is at stake. The thesis is clear: the circular relationship between individ-ual and corporate change must come to the fore in any further dis-cussions about authentic conversion, particularly with respect to those who have dedicated their lives to following the evangelical counsels. "The whole cannot be understood without its parts; nor the parts without the whole." This fundamental problem of inter-pretation-- the so-called hermeneutical problem--lies at the root of the present crisis in religious life. To deal with it effectively, a language of conversion must address both the individual and the November-December 1993 807 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language group, as well as their ongoing mutual relationship. It can do so, however, only if it encompasses (1) a sound Christian anthropol-ogy that stresses the dignity of human persons on every level of their existence, (2) a persuasive philosophical link between the personal and the corporate wholes, and (3) a recognition of its own inherent limitations with a corresponding openness to the re-creative presence of God. Without these important ingredi-ents of change, no language of conversion, regardless of how elo-quent or comprehensive it may appear, will be adequate to the enormous task at hand. A Sound Christian Anthropology The connotations of the phrase "a sound Christian anthro-pology" need some explaining. An "anthropology" may be described as a specific and coordinated assessment of human exis-tence. It is "Christian" insofar as it receives its inspiration from the insights of Christian traditions. To the extent that there are numerous interpretations of the meaning of Christianity, there are also varying Christian anthropologies. In this essay, a "sound" Christian anthropology is understood as one which integrates four fundamental dimensions of human existence: the physical, the rational (or mental), the spiritual, and the social. All of these are found ih the teaching of St. Paul and are made explicit in the juxtaposition of his doctrine of the Body of Christ (1 Cor 12:12- 31) and the tripartite understanding of the person found in such verses as this: "May the God of peace make you perfect in holi-ness. May he preserve you whole and entire, spirit (pneuma), soul (psyche), and body (soma), irreproachable at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Th 5:23). Together these verses express the Pauline understanding of the complexity of human existence and qualify as a solid basis for further theological reflection. Of what do these basic dimensions consist? People's spirit (pneuma) is the deepest part of their being. It yearns for God with unutterabl.e groanings (Rm 8:23) and has the potential to be lifted up into intimate communion with the very Spirit of God. Ever elusive and difficult to describe, it is that aspect of human exis-tence which affirms each human person as capax Dei, that is, capa-ble of God. People's soul (psyche), by contrast, is their animating principle of life. It encompasses, not only the rational, but also the emotive, nutritive, and reproductive sides of human existence. 808 Review for Religious Rational activity, the soul's highest and noblest function, enables people to wonder about the meaning of life and to think criti-cally about its problems. People's bodies (somata) are the material extension of their existence. Unlike the Pauline term for "flesh" (sarx), which has close associations with a life of sin leading to death, soma can be used for good or for ill and is hence a morally neutral concept. Finally, people's social dimension is a constituent part of their anthropological makeup. A human per-son. arises out of and exists in a social context and cannot be understood apart from it. For Christians, the primary social arena in which they live out their lives is that of the Body of Christ as it exists in its various expressions such as the family, the parish, the diocese, and the church universal. The interrelated nature of these various dimensions of human existence cannot be stressed highly enough. Spirit does not exist apart from a person's body, soul, and social relationships-- nor vice versa. Not one of them can be separated and treated in isolation from the others, as if a person were an arti-ficial composite of four disparate parts. A continuous and unbroken anthropo- For Christians, the primary social arena in which they live out their lives is that of the Body of Christ as it exists in its various expressions such as the family, the parish, the diocese, and the church universal. logical relationship exists among all of them. So strong are these bonds that not even death can sever them completely and pre-vent their ongoing functioning. To do so would mean the ulti-mate dissolution of the human person and the corresponding passage from being to nonbeing which the Christian faith so strongly rejects as a possibility of human destiny. That is not to say that a certain priority of relationships does not exist among these various anthropological factors: spirit relates to soul as soul to body. Balanced and healthy relationships among these affect the way in which a person interacts with others. A sound social environment, in turn, produces profound healing effects on a per-son's bodily, spiritual, and mental well-being. This circular rela-tionship is important for understanding the present crisis of religious life, which now can be understood as involving not only November-Deconber 1993 809 Billy ¯ Reli~ous Life and Conversion Language the vast array of dysfunctional social structures, but also a deeper relational imbalance operative on the most basic levels of human existence. Linking the Personal and the Corporate Social structures are both products of the mind and a means through which human intelligence and human spirit are shaped. ' When functioning according to justice, they give all people their due and educate them in virtue. At other times they work to the benefit of a privileged elite at the expense of an oppressed under-class. The interests of justice are not adequately served when existing social structures help to perpetuate a mentality of control that legitimizes the unjust treatment of other human beings. Such structures are sinful and need to be changed. When they are not (as can be the case in religious life), it may very well be simply because those involved feel overwhelmed by the immensity of the task before them. Such feelings can easily lead people to a sense of helplessness or even indifference about their ability to influence their surrounding social structures. An implicit dualism then arises in the private and social spheres of religious life: individuals grad-ually lose ownership of their ruling structures; the latter go on unchallenged more out of a paralyzing lack of interest than any-one's stubborn resistance to change. One way to overcome this implicit dualism is to introduce the related concepts of microcosm and macrocosm into the cur-rent vocabulary of religious life. Rooted in the primitive Greek idea of the human person as a small-scale model of the cosmos, this distinction was eventually adapted by Plato as a way of describing the relationship of individuals to the society (see Republic, 441c). According to this adjusted version, the underlying structure of human society is nearly the same as that of the human soul. The rational element corresponds to the republic's govern-ing class; the irascible (or spirited), to its martial orders; the con-cupiscible, to its productive masses. As "the human soul writ large," society offers individuals not only a particular place in the " social hierarchy, but also the opportunity of seeing themselves projected onto the collective whole. Individuals find their reflec-tion in the whole; the whole, in the individual. Plato's application of the microcosm/macrocosm distinction is not relevant in all its details to religious life in its contemporary 810 Review for Religious ¯ Western setting. His assertion, however, of an underlying struc-tural continuity between individuals and the society to which they belong has much to its credit: (1) it preserves the circular rela-tionship between individual and social functions; (2) it allows for certain structural similarities between human beings and their primary social environment; and (3) it maintains the distinctive-ness of individuals in the face of the larger community. When combined with the Christian anthropology outlined in the pre-vious section (as opposed to the Platonic one with which it is nor-mally associated), this seminal idea can help individuals in today's religious communities to regain their sense of identity with the larger whole. The analogy would go something like this: both the human person and the religious community possess spiritual, mental, physical, and social dimensions. The relationships among the various dimensions within the human person are proportion-ate to those in the religious community (for example, human spirit / human soul = community spirit / community soul, and so forth). Cross references also remain proportionate, but only with regard to corresponding terms (that is, human spirit /communal spirit = human soul / community soul, and so forth). In all cases the rule of proper proportionality applies (a/b = a'/b'). The strength of this approach is that it maintains a fundamental continuity between the underlying anthropological structure of individuals and that of their religious community. And it is able to do so even when taking into account the limitations of the language it uses to describe the quiet, abiding presence of God in the life of the . community. The Silent Presence of Grace One of the underlying dangers in the current discussion about the future of religious life is the tendency to substitute lengthy theories for the simplicity of God's intervening grace. Uneasiness about their present situation in life has led many religious into a quest for the perfect plan that will explain in fine detail (1) why they find themselves in their present situation, (2) how they can get themselves out of it, and (3) where they should be going. Search as they may, they will inevitably end up frustrated. No magic elixir of man-made theories can satisfy expectations of such exalted heights. To achieve its ends, a theory of refounding or revitalization must place God, not itself, atthe center of attention. November-Deconber 1993 811 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language To do so, it must first recognize that conversion on any level--the personal, the communal, the societal--comes directly from God's own initiative. And since God is not limited to the narrow confines of human theorizing, the theory in question can propose nothing but one of many possibilities of how God's transforming action may occur. By placing itself on the periphery (not at the center) of divine action, such a theory acknowledges its inherent limita-tions and places itself more readily at the disposal of God's re-creative activity. "The wind blows where it wills" (Jn 3:8). The movement of God's grace is capable of transforming both individuals and the social structures they inhabit. What God does or how is not always discernible to the human eye. What is important in any of life's sit-uations-- and, in this case, in the present crisis facing many reli-gious communities--is that people (both as individuals and as a group) expand their awareness of God working quietly in the cir-cumstances of their daily lives. Where is God in the present cri-sis facing religious life? What is God saying in the graying of once thriving religious communities, in their steady loss of younger members, in their failure to attract vocations, and in their overall decline in numbers? Why does God permit the cur-rent lack of identity and firmness of purpose which characterizes so many of today's religious communities? Where is God lead-ing them--if at all? And to serve what purpose? When sincerely reflected upon, such questions lead people either to affirm or deny God's active involvement in their own life and in the life of " their religious community. The answer, however, may not end up in the shape of a simple yes or no. In a matter of faith, a believer's response must involve more than a facile determination of whether God is with this particular community or has abandoned it. Such a reply may evade the issue altogether. An authentic outpouring of God's grace will foster a deep sense of listening in the life of a religious community. Most peo-ple, religious included, are more ready to give their own opinion than to hear that of another. They are usually so heavily interested in what they themselves have to say that they talk past those around them or, at best, tolerate what is said until the next oppor-tunity arises for them to speak. What passes for conversation is often nothing more than a continuous chain of vaguely connected monologues. Such is not the case with God, the preeminent lis-tener, nor should it be the case of those stirr.ed by the free gift of 812 Review for Religious grace. Those who listen carefully--to their own hearts, to those around them, to the needs of the community, and to those outside the community--are able to discern more clearly the voice of God in their own lives. When they nurture this quiet witness of faith, religious create a space in their community where others know that their presence will be gratefully recognized and their stories listened to with interest. To empty oneself so that others may be heard is an important quality in authentic Christian living. The language of conversion cannot be spoken, let alone heard, apart from the re-creative silence of God's transforming grace. R.eligious and the Language of Conversion The rudiments of an authentic language of conversion are now in place: a sound Christian anthropology, a way of bringing together individuals and corporate wholes, and a recognition of God's creative initiative in the process of conversion. The inte-gration of these elements and their use as an active, functioning language will enable religious to find greater insight into their present difficulties and will lead them to a deeper awareness of the proper course of action to be taken. To further advance this claim, a number of observations are in order: 1. A language of conversion such as the one suggested above will challenge religious to remove the "problem solving" glasses that regularly color their current outlook. Rather than poring over "what must we change in order to secure our institutional viability," they will focus on questions about the authenticity of their reli-gious lives. A religious community, in other words, turns its life more completely over to God, not out of any ulterior motives (for example, to get more vocations, to stem the exodus of disenchanted members), but simply because that is what God asks of them. 2. Religious need to examine, in their common spiritual out-look, the relationship they maintain between "being" and "action." Informed by an anthropology that draws strong bonds between the bodily, mental, spiritual, and social dimensions of human exis-tence, they will be more apt to be sensitive to how their actions-- both private and corporate--are expressions of who they are and sensitive as well to how their actions affect their being as human persons. 3. Religious must articulate in their daily lives a deeper appre-ciation of the basic human elements of community living. November-December 1993 813 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language Membership in a religious congregation involves more than mere physical presence. It also entails a shared commitment to common goals and values, a general sense of how these ends are to be achieved, the fostering of community spirit, and a network of sound spiritual and social ties. Since these elements are them-selves all intimately related, care must be taken that members manage to relate well on all of them. Structures must be set in place to facilitate this process. 4. Particular emphasis should be given to the community's spiritual well-being. Just as the spirit is the deepest part of the human person--that part which yearns for God and which affirms oneself as capax Dei--so too is it the truest, most authentic part of the religious community. When the spirit of a religious commu-nity suffers, the other dimensions cannot help being affected. Efforts must be made to heal the wounded spirit of religious com-munity life. Among other things, this will mean working through such difficult issues as human intimacy, vocational crises, mourn-ing the loss of members, and dealing constructively with members who display dysfunctional and addictive behaviors. Only through healing of the spirit of religious community life is there any hope of recovery. 5. One way of healing a community's wounded spirit is for its members to reserve time and community space for genuine listening. By being attentive to the words of others--the stories they tell, the experiences they wish to share--people enter into the thick of life and allow for the possibility of God's presence to break into ordinary daily events. When a religious community fosters this attitude of respect for the need of people to share themselves openly without feeling threatened, it begins to go beneath the superficial ways of relating by which its members all too often relate hardly at all. One of the great sins of religious life is that people can live together for years and barely know each other. 6. It is also sad that a person can live the religious life for yea~rs without ever developing a close relationship with God. Addressing this problem, the language of conversion places God at the center of attention. The whole purpose of life, and of reli-gious life especially, is for a person to enter into a deep and last-ing friendship with God. This purpose must not be lost sight of in discussions about the future of religious life. Religious vow to live the evangelical counsels in order to walk more closely along 814 Revie~ for Religious the way of the Lord Jesus. They do so, if for no other reason, in order to enter more closely into union with him and the One who sent him. 7. People cannot know God, however, if their spirit (or the spirit of the community, for that matter) does not commune with the Spirit of God in the quiet groves of contemplation. Many religious, unfortunately, have forgotten all about what it means to seek the Lord in prayer. Having lost the incentive to pray, they merely go through the motions of living out their evangelical commitments; their lives, as a result, can easily become devoid of all meaning. Religious need to see through the self-deceptions that have gradually led them to compromise their vows. To retrieve the meaning of their religious life, they must return to a balanced regimen of prayer whereby they can gather in God's name and continually invoke the divine presence. 8. Finally, no one undergoes conversion outside a specific community environment. Religious must develop a keen sense of boundary definition that will enable them to distribute their time appropriately between their own religious community and the people they serve in the apostolate. While benefiting from the authentic sharing that goes on within their communities (an essential priority of a well functioning community), they must take care not to become inordinately introspective and so lose all desire to reach beyond their immediate circle. The apostolic orientation of all religious communities (even those with a strictly contem-plative lifestyle) must always remain a primary concern. With this orientation religious supported and energized by their communi-ties will be able--both individually and together--to do great work for both the church and for society at large. Just as the spirit is the deepest part of the human person-- that part which yearns for God and which affirms oneself as capax Dei--so too is it the truest, most authentic part of the religious community. Conclusion The present crisis in religious life is largely a lack of balance between the individual and the community. In many respects the November-December 1993 815 Billy ¯ ReIigious Life and Conversion Language crisis is a scaled-down version of the age-old philosophical prob-lem of the one and the many, an issue which has always lurked behind the scenes of Western philosophical thought and which remains, even today, largely unresolved. In recent years the pen-dulum has swung from one extreme to the other, with the indi-vidual being either submerged in the collective (as was often the case before Vatican II) or much removed from it (as has often occurred since the council). While nearly everyone agrees that a healthy balance needs to be struck, there is little consensus con-cerning just what must be done to achieve it. These pages have used certain categories from the Western religious and philosophical traditions in an effort to nudge reli-gious communities gently toward a prudent--even though pre-carious- balance. The categories include (1) a Pauline anthropology that emphasizes the four basic dimensions of human existence (spiritual, mental, bodily, and social), (2) a philosophi-cal link between individual and corporate wholes (the micro-cosm/ macrocosm distinction of the ancient Greek philosophers), and (3) a deepened awareness of the inherent limitations of lan-guage (and by extension all theories) with a corresponding focus on the creative initiative of divine grace. While none of these cat-egories are entirely disregarded in current discourse about reli-gious life, rarely have they been used in conjunction with one another and certainly not in what has been termed "a language of conversion." By assimilating these categories of conversion, religious can begin to change some of their dysfunctional ways of relating and nurse some of the open wounds that their communities now endure. First of all, they must get beyond claiming that the call to conversion extends only to individuals and not to the social struc-tures they inhabit. An awareness of the circular relationship between the human heart and the human social structure is ~un-damental to any serious discussion of religious life's future. Without it the dissatisfaction of many of today's religious with their institutional structures will continue to grow. 816 Review for Religious GERALD M. FAGIN Are We Relating to God in a New Way? When I entered a Jesuit novitiate thirty-five years ago, I was introduced to a way of relating to God deeply rooted in the tradition of the church and in the Society of Jesus. It was a way of experiencing God and of responding to God that was shaped by a clearly defined theological understanding of God, the church, and the human per-son. What characterized that spirituality was what char-acterized the spirituality of most Catholics, both lay and religious, in the years before Vatican Council II. What has emerged in the last twenty-five years is a new way of relating to God, a spirituality rooted in a plurality of the-ological understandings of God, the church, and the human person. We might describe it as a shift in model or simply as a shift from one pole of the necessary tension in our spiritual lives to the other. What is important is that we describe and understand what has happened, for too often a lack of understanding has led to confusion, guilt, and quarreling among Christians. I offer five tensions or polarities that are always pres-ent in our spiritual lives. What has happened in lived Christian spirituality can be described in terms of these tensions. spirituality From Objective to Subject-Centered The spirituality of thirty-five years ago was an objec- Gerald M. Fagin sJ, professor of theology, can be addressed at Loyola University; 6363 St. Charles Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. Noven~ber-Decen~ber 1993 817 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? tive spirituality measured in terms of laws kept, mortifications and virtues and devotions practiced, prayers said, and Masses attended. A typical day in a novitiate was structured around an early morning Latin Mass, an hour of meditation, the rosary, the stations of the cross, examination of conscience, spiritual read-ing, and an instruction on religious life. The spiritual life of the Catholic laity was measured and identified by similar norms and practices. This way of life was supported by a clearly defined Catholic culture that gave Catholics a sense of identity rooted in unambiguous doctrinal and moral teaching and distinct rituals and practices. It was the world of the Baltimore catechism, Friday abstinence, fasting in Lent, First Friday and First Saturday devo-tions, benediction, indulgences, and St. Jude devotions. It demanded discipline and obedience and self-sacrifice, but it offered clear expectations and a structured and measurable way of living out a committed Christian life that led to sanctity. Such objectivity is an essential element in any relationship .to God. Rituals, practices, and devotions are at the heart of a gen-uine experience of God and a faithful response to God. We need clear guidelines and traditional structures if we are to be account-able and if we are to guard against the kind of subjectivity that is open to deception and divisiveness. What has emerged, then, is not a total rejection of this way of relating to God, but a new emphasis on the human person as a free and developing subject in the spiritual life. This subject-centered spirituality is a spirituality measured in terms of people's inner growth and actualization, the quality of their prayer and personal affective development. The spiritual life is described in terms'of a growth in trust and love and openness and freedom and sensi-tivity to the Spirit. Religious experience rather than religious practice is central to this approach. The focus is growth in peo-ple's personal relationship with God and on God's call addressed ¯ uniquely to individuals in their specific life circumstances. In con-sidering fidelity to God, the language of conformity and obedience to rules gives way to discernment and dialogue. Prayer becomes less a meditation on the truths of Christianity and more a lan-guage of the heart, an affective prayer that centers on God's ini-tiative more than our initiative. The role of the spiritual director puts less emphasis on teaching and guidance and more emphasis on facilitating the directee's relationship with God. The didactic gifts of the director become less important than a listening and 818 Review for Religious discerning heart that can clarify the movement of God in the directee's heart. Thirty-five years ago my spiritual director asked me about my fidelity to my spiritual exercises, the subject matter of my meditation, and the resolutions from my latest retreat. Today my spiritual director asks me about the movement of God in my heart and the consolation and desolation that are the signposts of my discernment. The presupposition is that God is at work in the individual soul and that this movement of God can be observed and discerned. The shift to a subject-centered spirituality is clearly seen in the rediscovery of the directed retreat. Conference-style or preached retreats focus on a common teaching or subject matter for reflec-tion. Everyone responds to and prays over the same material, often more doctrinal than scriptural, and not selected as a specific response to the needs and grace directions of the individuals. The subject matter of the directed retreat is each individual's experience of God, the movement of the Spirit within that person. Scripture is chosen to focus and highlight the graces of the retreatant. There is not one set program for everyone. It is pre-sumed that each person will experience and respond to God's grace in an individual way. Underlying this shift to the subject is a different under-standing of revelation. Revelation is imaged not primarily as propositions to be affirmed but as God's self-communication. Revelation is not first a series of statements about God and the human condition, but a series of experiences of God that reveal who God is and how God deals with us. Jesus is the fullness of God's revelation so that our faith life is a response to someone rather than an assent to propositions. God's self-revelation in Christ calls us to a new relationship with.God. Experience, both individual and communal, precedes articulation; and our rela- This subject-centered spirituality is a spirituality measured in terms of people's inner growth and actualization, the quality of their prayer and personal affective development. November-December 1993 819 Fagqn ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? tionship with God begins in an experience of God that then finds words in doctrines and expression in rituals. From Perfection to Process The novice of thirty-five years ago set out on the road to per-fection. Every imperfection was to be weeded out, every virtue practiced. The ideals were clear, even if unattainable. The goal was set: "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." The perfec-tion model envisioned our spiritual lives as a striving for an ideal, a state of perfection that was never attained. Too often our spir-itual lives were evaluated in terms of our failures to reach the ideal or the degree to which we had failed to attain perfection. As in the objective model, the focus was on an observance of laws and duties. Novices were told, "Keep the rule and the rule will keep you." This approach tended to be legalistic and Pelagian and to generate undue fear in our relationship with God. We were always aware that we were not measuring up to the ideal. No matter how fervent our spiritual lives and how detailed our obser-vance, we remained unworthy servants who had yet to reach per-fection. We placed much more emphasis on what we had failed to do or achieve than on the level of our desire and hope and love and our moments of fidelity. This perfection model focused on the goal, not the process to the goal. God's love and affirmation were often thought of as the reward for our completing the process, for our faithful observance. A corollary of the shift from objective to subject-centered is the shift from this perfection model to a process model in our relationship with God. The process model envisions our spiri-tual lives as a journey that can be measured not only in terms of how far we have to go, but especially in terms of how far we have come. Besides sorrow for our failure to attain perfection, there is gratitude for all that God has accomplished in us, the work of God's grace in our lives. Our spiritual lives are viewed as a rela-tionship with God that grows, not as a project that needs to be accomplished. Such a model is sensitive to the adult stages of growth in the human process. Conversion is emphasized as an ongoing process of discovering and purification and commitment. Creative fidelity in the midst of new challenges and opportunities replaces perseverance in a static commitment. The love of God is experienced in the midst of the process as an abiding source of 820 Review for Religious support and inspiration. God loves us where we are and invites us to a fuller life. We find God, then, where we are and not where we would like to be. We pray out of our present experience, not out of as-yet-unrealized goals. At the root of this shift from perfection to process is a renewed understanding of grace. Grace is defined not primarily in ontological terms and categories, certainly not as a quantity to be gained and lost by observance or lack of observance. Rather it is understood as a growth in a relationship of love with some-one, a growth into a richer and fuller life. Our relationship with God is an invitation to friendship and intimacy with God, a gift of new life. God's grace is the giving of Godself that transforms us and empowers us to live God's life. From Private to Communal The novitiate of thirty-five years ago was highly structured and programmed. With rare exceptions, everyone followed the same order of the day, listened to the same conferences and instructions, and even read many of the same books. The reality of large numbers of novices made personal attention less available, even though the novice master was concerned for the well-being of each novice. At the same time, the spirituality proposed was very individualistic. People's relation with God was private and expressed in personal devotions and practices. They found God in the solitude of their'own heart and gave little emphasis to a com-munity of shared faith and communal discernment. There was a strong sense of corporate identity, but one's own spiritual life was private and to be shared only with a spiritual director or supe-rior. The support came from the awareness that everyone was praying at the same time in private, not from any ~hared sense of what was happening in the prayer of individuals. This personal piety that privatized one's relationship with God followed upon an understanding of the church as an insti-tution from which grace flows from the top through a hierarchi-cal structure to the individual. God spoke through superiors and religious leaders, not through the members of the community. Sacraments too were privatized. They were channels of individ-ual grace and a personal relationship with God. Confession was an experience of forgiveness of my sins with little sense of reconcil-iation with the community. Eucharist focused on the offering of November-December 1993 821 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? Christ's sacrifice and my reception of Communion, followed by my private thanksgiving with .Jesus. Often Eucharist was a pri-vate Mass with a single server symbolizing a broader community that was not evidently there. All of this, of course, reflected a the-ology of church and sacrament that shaped and reinforced a sense of a private relationship with God. A communal model, on the other hand, emphasizes that we encounter God in community. It respects the personal and unique aspect of one's relationship with God and the areas of religious experience that are shared only with a spiritual guide or a close friend, but it images our relationship with God in the context of a community of faith. The Spirit speaks through all, and we grow in our faith life with, in, and through others. We are one body. We are branches on the same vine. Shared prayer and communal dis-cernment are important means of developing our relationship with God. This derives from an understanding of church as pri-marily a community of believers called together in faith. The church is an institution with visible structures and offices, but it is first the gathering of disciples that find and celebrate God's presence in their midst. Liturgy is experienced as ecclesial, as the coming together of God's people to hear the word in common and share the meal of the Reign of God. Jesus is present, not only in the consecrated bread and wine, but also in the assembly. We find Jesus in the community. Sacraments, then, are experienced as communal moments Of celebration that bind us together and deepen our corporate identity as the people of God. Christians share a common story of salvation and live out that story as mem-bers of the one body of Christ. That sense of a common story deepens our awareness of God's self-revelation to us in commu-nity and our need to listen and respond as God's people bound together by a covenant relationship. From Dualism to Wholeness From its earliest days Christianity has struggled with a dual-ism that put a wedge between the spiritual and the physical, the body and the soul. Gnosticism, Manicheanism, and Jansenism are only historical surfacings of a constant and strong undercurrent of thought that considers the physical to be evil and the source of temptation. Not surprisingly, the novitiate of thirty-five years ago put little emphasis on emotional growth and psychosexual devel- 822 Review for Religious opment. The prominent role of physical penances and the pro-hibition about novices touching one another dramatized not only a needed asceticism, but also a distrust of anything relating to the human body. Holiness was often identified with a flight from the body and from the emotions. The body was seen as a hin-drance to the spirit, and the emotions were dismissed or sup-pressed as irrelevant and debilitating. Reason and volition were the only reliable means of directing our spiritual lives. Discernment was reduced to a rational process or replaced by. logical analysis. Faith was seen primarily as an act of the intellect and holiness as an act of the will. In the end, the spiritual life was often per-ceived as set apart in a higher realm divorced from the growth of the whole person. Contemporary spirituality is more clearly holistic. It respects and encourages the growth of the whole person. The process of human-ization is an integral part of spiritual develop-ment. Spiritual maturity presupposes a certain psychological health as a foundation. The role of affectivity and an appreciation of our phys-icality become important elements of our growth to spiritual wholeness. Discernment is appreciated as noticing and evaluating the affective as well as the rational movements of God within the soul, sifting through experiences of consolation and desolation. Faith is the response of the whole person to God's self-revela-tion. A renewed value is given to human desire as a place where God touches and inspires the soul and calls a person to fuller life. Contemporary spiritua~ty knows well that something of this holis-tic approach can be found in a fresh reading of many of the mys-tics and spiritual classics, but modern awareness and appreciation of the complexities of the human person have insisted even more that holiness is a developmental process of integrating all aspects of the human person. The shift from dualism to wholeness is rooted in an under-standing of the human person as a unity rather than a duality of spirit and body. Psychology and religion can work together to transform and sanctify every dimension of the person. The Enneagram, Jungian personality types, dream analysis, Intensive Journaling--all these and more can enrich our appreciation and Christians share a common story of salvation and live out that story as members of the one body of Christ. November-December 1993 823 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? understanding of the human psyche and be positive helps to our spiritual growth. There is, of course, an element of truth in the dualistic approach. Physical and even psychological wholeness are not indispensable to Christian holiness. God can and does work through our brokenness. The ideal of self-actualization and human growth must always be relativized by the gospel call to self-emp-tying surrender. On the other hand, the dualistic approach, when taken to an extreme, can produce an impoverished human per-son insensitive to the riches of imagination and affect in relating to God and other people. In such a case, little or no value is given to the affective movements of the heart in the search for God. The ordering of affectivity is reduced to the suppression of affec-tivity, and an ascetic ideal is proposed that allows little room for human emotion. From Other-Worldly to This-Worldly "Just a little while and then eternity." These words attributed to St. John Berchmans set the tone for my novitiate experience thirty-five years ago. At the heart of the relationship with God was a call to renunciation of the material world. The world was a place of temptation and trial. We were pilgrims on a journey to salvation in the next life. Sanctity demanded detachment from the world. Matter was evil, the source of sin. Penance was a way to punish the flesh and control its appetites. The novitiate was in an isolated place far from the allurements of the world. There were no newspapers or magazines or movies or TV. The harshest judgment passed on any novice was that he was "worldly." At the root of this approach was a negative vision of the world as cor-rupted by sin. Flight from the world was the road to sanctity. Even apostolic religious orders tended to propose monastic ide-als that emphasized separation from the world. A special impor-tance was given to the words of Seneca (Letters, no. 7) quoted in the Imitation of Christ (I, 20): "As often as I have been among men, I have returned less a man." No one can deny the truth in this approach to the world. Growth in a relationship with God demands a radical detachment and renunciation. We live in a world of obscured values and dis-torted perceptions, a world infected with sin that stands in oppo-sition to the values of the reign of God. The world is groaning for 824 Review for Religious redemption, and Christianity must stand as a countercultural force in a broken and wounded world. Contemporary spirituality, however, takes a more positive view of the world, seeing it as the product of God's love and the locus of God's redemptive presence. The Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes (The Church in the Modern World) proposed a world-affirming vision that recognized the value and autonomy of human society and culture and that took responsibility for the world. A renewed theology of creation takes seriously Genesis's declaration of the goodness of creation and the dignity of humans as images of God. Such a creation-centered spirituality rejoices in the world as a gift.from the hands of a loving God. Our relationship with God is expressed in a concern for the earth and a sense of stew-ardship for the resources entrusted to us. The reign of God is already a reality "bud-ding forth," and our human efforts are an essential element in building the final reign of God. God, then, is found in human experience and human achievement, and this world becomes a sacred place for encountering God. A genuine apostolic spirituality recognizes that we work out our salvation by involvement in the human struggle for justice. The desert invades the marketplace and the monk speaks a prophetic word in the city. The reason for the shift to a this-worldly spiritua'lity is, then, a more positive view of the world and a renewed understanding of salvation. An important corollary of this new understanding and appre-ciation of the world is a reevaluation of the relation between reli-gious life and the lay vocation. In the other-worldly view of the Christian life, monastic spirituality was considered normative, and so the life of a single or a married person in the world was necessarily a less radical commitment to a relationship with God. Lay spirituality was at best a watered-down adaptation of the higher calling of religious life. Vatican II, by contrast, speaks of a universal call to holiness. All Christians are called to the per-fection of charity and commitment to Christ. Religious life and the A genuine apostolic spirituality recognizes that we work out our salvation by involvement in the human struggle for justice. November-December 1993 825 Fagin ¯ Are V~e Relating to God in a New tVay? lay vocation are two different ways of responding to the radical gospel call to discipleship. At best one can speak of religious life as a more explicit and unambiguous lifestyle that witnesses to the common vocation of all Christians. Conclusion The tensions just described are an enduring part of our rela-tionship with God. Our spirituality will always be a balance between objective and subjective, perfection and process, private and communal, dualism and wholeness, other-worldly and this-worldly. As Richard McBrien has pointed out frequently, Catholicism is not a matter of either/or but of both/and. There is no question of rejecting one way and replacing it completely with another, but rather of claiming a new richness that respects the older way and opens new ways of living our Christian lives. My novitiate experience of thirty-five ye~ars ago focused almost exclu-sively on the objective, perfection, private, dualistic, and other-worldly dimensions of our relationship with God. Contemporary spirituality has swung the pendulum dramatically to the other pole. The challenge is to move beyond a reactionary position and to integrate the truth of the previous way of relating to God with a new and rich experience of God and the human person. The swing of the pendulum, as we have seen, comes from a new under-standing of revelation, grace, and the church and of the human person, the world, and salvation. Developments in theology and new dimensions of religious experience continue to enrich one another and open new possibilities in our relationship with God. Each age in the life of the church struggles to define Christians' relationship with God. Christian spirituality is a lived experience shaped by life, culture, and theology, but above all by the graced invitation of God. I conclude by suggesting four char-acteristics of a Christian spirituality that is responsive to the invi-tation and challenge of the contemporary world. We need an incarnational spirituality that finds mystery and the sacred in the midst of a radical affirmation of the giftedness of the world, that finds God not only above us but also with us. We need a holistic spirituality that integrates more fully into our spiritual growth the nonrational dimensions of our person, fostering a healthy sense of sin and forgiveness and respecting the human psyche's limitations and possibilities for growth in God's life. We need a 826 Review for Religious prophet# spirituality that integrates the mystical and the political and sees a passion for justice and solidarity with the poor as inte-gral to contemplative union with God. We need an ecdesial spir-ituality that lives out our relationship with God in the community of disciples, harmonizes discernment and religious authority, and responds to the call to ministry that baptismal grace enables us to hear. In the end, Christian spirituality will always remain a response to the gospel call to conversion and discipleship. In every age it promises a growth in a personal relationship with God and demands a commitment in the context of a community of faith, but in the midst 6f these constant elements Christians will con-tinue to be attentive to the movements of the Spirit in their lives and to explore new ways of relating to God. Holofrosts The offerings to God this winter's morning Are holofrosts, not burnt but frozen;fruit Of the vine hangs shriveled as nuggets of ice, The works of human hands .are noughted out By whiteness of snow. Offering God of his own From the elements given us, we lift up As gifts at his altar: his earth, air, Water, hard-touched by December, challenging Us to be devout in our changing seasons Of spring-weather faith, frost-withered doubt. Nancy G. Westerfield November-December 1993 827 A. PAUL DOMINIC Desire, Asking, and Answers porayer, as St. Thomas Aquinas said, is the articulation of ur desire before God.~ That is the way we teach our chil-dren their first practical lesson in religion: we teach them to ask God for what they want. As people grow in spiritual life, they can never outgrow the spirit of their beginnings, if for no other reason than that the highest reaches cannot exist without the low-est attainments. There is reason, then, not to abandon altogether the early, petitionary stage of spiritual life, but to continue to experience its varying moods and movements. Here biblical personages at once spiritual and earthy can be illustrative and illuminative. The recorded experiences of Hannah, David, and Job are relevant. They are all apparently of marked spirituality, notably above the ordinary. Yet in their dealings with God they do not remain always ethereal. Possessed of human desires, too, as down-to-earth people, they approach God openly with the desires of their heart. That is to say, they are simple enough not to be shatmning but to move with the tide of their life. Spiritually oriented people will neglect this basic lesson only to their cost. Not much is known of Hannah, surely; but the little that is known of her reveals her womanly spiritual fiber. Her husband, Elkanah, less known than herself, is religious too, but in the usual way, performing the regular practices like yearly pilgrimage. Perhaps part of his routine spirituality is his seeming resignation A. Paul Dominic SJ, author of God of Justice (Bombay: St. Paul Publications), is well known to our readers. His address is Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. 828 Review for Religious to God's disposition regarding Hannah's barrenness. But Hannah herself would not be resigned to her situation. She burns with desire for a son as much as, or even more than, she is resentful and in distress because of the taunts of the other wife, who is not bar-ren. All this compounded desire of her heart she pours out to her God, completely oblivious of her surroundings, and she keeps on beseeching him for a son till--that is the important point here-- she is assured that she will get what she has painfully longed for. She has not supplicated in vain. No wonder she knows peace in her heart. David is great in every way, in particular in his spiritual gifts. He attains spiritual heights on certain occasions when God sur-prises him with choice favors. But he also knows low spirits and even falls. Then he prays, staying where he is. One such occa-sion is when he realizes that he has to pay for his adultery by the death of the child of adultery. Though he owns his sin, still he wants the son his sin produced. How he prays for the life of the child, struck by God with a grave illness! He pleads with God for his child, fasting and lying on the ground for days together. He prays with all his energies, hoping against hope till he realizes that the child has died. He has supplicated in vain and still, sur-prisingly enough, seems to find unusual peace in his heart. Job is an exceptional figure who manages a happy blend of his wealth in the world with his godly life. If he has enjoyed all the prosperity in the world, still he seeks and humbly keeps his integrity before his God. Such a man, however, meets with one disaster after another. Even then he allows no curse to cross his mind or lips; on the contrary, he walks humbly with God, bless-ing him still. However, in the prolonged anguish of his final dis-aster, made worse by his three friends preachifying to the effect that every sufferer must be necessarily a sinner, he is stung to the quick and so driven to defend his honor. He argues with them point by point, personally convinced that there is no sin that would explain his suffering. In between he puts the matter before God, too, quite unafraid, now lamenting his plight, now com-plaining to him, now appealing to him, now reasoning with him, now challenging him, then yearning to reach him, all the while wanting to vindicate his stand that he is innocent, whatever the traditional doctrine of retribution may be. He has supplicated alone and in company, aloud and in silence, passing through the struggle of it all, only to be surprised at the end by the mysteri- Nove~nber-Decen;ber 1993 829 Dontinic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers ous and yet overwhelmingly peaceful vision of God clearing up all the aggnizing questions and difficulties. The three biblical episodes ~nay be compared to one another as regards three elements common to them. First, the three pro-tagonists experience an urgent desire. Second, they take it up in their prayer, making it indeed their whole prayer, however long drawn out it may be. Third, they attain something positive. First, then, they are alike in experiencing desires, however various the desires may be. Hannah desires a son. Her desire is natural, normal, proper, appropriate, and worthy inasmuch as she wants only the full enjoyment of her marriage as willed by God right from the beginning. David desires that the son of his passion, born of another man's wife, should live and not die. His desire, too, is natural and normal and yet perhaps not especially worthy, if only because the circumstantial will of God is for the child of adultery to die. Job desires an answer to the puzzle of his unde-served suffering. His desire, too, is nor~nal and natural and yet only dubiously proper against the background of the common traditional belief that every suffering implies some sin in the suf-ferer. While Hannah's desire is in every way agreeable, David's and Job's are not particularly so. David resists the apparent mind of God regarding the fruit of his sin, and Job's honest and frank desire is naively bold because it seems to put God in the wrong. Second, however one evaluates the three desires, they are nevertheless real and candid; the persons know and feel their desire as only they can. They find it so urgent that they do not fight shy of voicing it before other "people and even before God. They do not simply pray about it, but make it their sole and con-stant prayer. Without any distracting self-consciousness, they sim-ply present themselves before God as they experience their desire consuming them, not minding or caring whether they might come across to casual observers as strange or surprising or suspect. Possessed by their sole burning desire, they beseech God persis-tently without any thought of circumspection or shame or seem-ing propriety till something good happens to them--which leads to my third point. In Hannah's case, what happens is just what she has desired and prayed for. She gets a son and calls him Samuel since, as she says, "I asked Yahweh iCor him" (i S 1:20). In David's case, what happens is just the opposite:of his lingering desire and prayer. His ill-gotten child whom he wants to see saved dies of illness. But 830 Re'view for Religious David--note well--comes alive after the whole ordeal of pray-ing, pining, and fasting. He bathes, anoints himself, dresses up, goes to the sanctuary, then sits down to a meal, and finally even consoles his forlorn Bathsheba. In Job's case, what happens is not just what he agonizingly wanted to find, for he finds far more than he has dared ask. He has asked only for a vindicating proof of his undeserved suffering, but he is given to see God himself, the answer of all possible problems and puzzles. It may appear at first sight that the prayer arising from and suffused with unquenchable desire turns out to be a success for Hannah, a fail-ure for David, and a mere struggle for Job. But further reflection would show that the reality or radicality of their experience is not that simple. The feverish desires of David and Job may not have ended in natural, ordinary, and expected satisfaction as in the case of Hannah. But they too have their definite, unmistakable denouement, with their desires set at rest. Indeed, they attain what may be called the res-olution of their desires, a positive ending to their experience of desire in and through and by means of prayer. Here is a lesson for life. Despite the obvious differences in their desires, Hannah, David, and Job all end up with positive experiences through prayer. Their prayer experience has some-thing in common: making their desire transparent to God or, bet-ter, living their desire before God in all its urgency. The experience of any urgent desire is itself a sort of struggle till its ful-fillment. This is only accentuated when the fulfillment of desire depends, not on oneself, but on the good pleasure of another--in the present context, God. So Hannah prays in an unusual manner, speaking under her breath, giving room for suspicion that she is drunk. So too does David, to the surprise of his officials, covering himself with sack-ing, lying on the bare ground and keeping a strict fast. So too does Job, confounding and shocking his onlookers by his unortho-dox stand that, though he has been afflicted with the worst of Despite the obvious differences in their desires, Hannah, David, and Job all end up with positive experiences through prayer. November-December 1993 831 Dominic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers sufferings, he cannot be accused of having really sinned. Even if he occasionally concedes, for the sake of argument, that he has sinned, he challenges God outright: "Suppose I have sinned, what have I done to you?" (Jb 7:20). But the burden of his prayer runs now and again in such words as these: "I shall say to God, 'Do not condemn me, but tell me the reason for your assault. Is it right for you to injure me, cheapening the work of your own hands and abetting the schemes of the wicked?'" (Jb 10:2-3). He ends his apologia daringly with no apology whatever: "I have had my say, from A to Z; now let Shaddai answer me" (Jb 31:35). How acute must be the struggle of the man who, in his dire straits, makes bold to speak to God without mincing words about what he wants. If Hannah and David, too, definitely pass through quite a struggle in their prayer seeking what they want, theirs would seem to be nothing compared with the struggle of Job for God's own vindication of his innocence. Generally speaking, the struggle experienced in prayer as peo-ple keep on imploring God for what they want is proportionate to the intensity of their desire. The surpassing struggle Job goes through in his prayer reveals how hard he desires. There is, if one may put it this way, truth in his desire. That is to say, his desire is so true and so truly possessing and consuming him that he needs must seek its fulfillment by every means possible, even if it should entail a gigantic struggle. Here may be raised a very important question concerning prayer. If people pray and complain that they do not get an answer to their prayer, it may be asked whether their prayer arises out of truth, the truth of their desire in the sense suggested above. People may be accustomed to and satisfied with bland preferences, with mere velleities, and thus ,nay not have true desire even if they know, or seem to know, what they desire. Certainly velleities are palt~ desires. It is worth noting in this context that Job with his ruling desire and passionate prayer is a fictitious figure, unlike Hannah and David. From this may one not infer that people like Job are seldom found in real life, that rarely are real people moved by strong, ardent, fervent, and in a word true desire? But without desire there can be no prayer, for desire is part and parcel of prayer. St. Thomas said so (as I have indicated above), and St. Augustine had said something similar much ear-lier. Writing to Proba on prayer, he pointed out that, if the Lord wants us to pray even though he certainly knows independently 832 Review for Religious our wants and needs, it is because "he wants our desire to be exer-cised in prayer, thus enabling us to grasp what he is preparing to give.''2 He added: "We pray always in faith, hope, and love, with uninterrupted desire. Btit at certain hours and seasons we also pray with words. We use these signs of realities to rouse our-selves, to become aware of the growth of our desire, and to strongly move ourselves to increase it . What do the Apostle's words, 'Pray constantly,' mean, if not that we must constantly desire. ?-3 Of course, one may remark quite correctly that in the context Augustine had in his mind a constant desire for the blessedness of eternal life. One may observe just as correctly, however, that what we do in prayer--namely, exercise our desire--may reach out not only to eternal life, but to present life as well, with aH that we want here and now. Anyhow, the very prayer that Jesus taught explicitly is not confined to holy desires connected with God and his kingdom, but, in the phrase "daily bread," makes mention of ordinary human desires and material needs. The Lord's Prayer certainly includes the gamut of human desires, from the lofty to the lowly. Other teachings of Jesus on prayer also focus on desire expe-rienced and expressed before God. The parables of the importu-nate friend and the widow (Lk 11:5-8; 18:1-8), for instance, emphasize the keenness of desire without which prayer would flag and falter. Apart from desire there can be no meaning in prayer of peti.tion; and it is this sort of simple, straightforward prayer that Jesus mostly speaks of. His injunction regarding effec-tive, infallible prayer is to "ask. search., knock" (Mr 7:7); and this really means that one should go on asking and searching and knocking with the growing impulse of intense desire. This real-ity of glowing desire may throw light even on the basic require-ment-- namely, belief or faith--in all such prayer. For instance, in the saying of Jesus that "everything you ask and pray for, believe that );ou have it already, and it will be yours" (Mk 11:24), the action of belief is as much an activity of desire as it is anything else.4 When belief comes into play in prayer, it invariably brings desire into the foreground, the desire which was already there in the prayer right from the start. All this is not a matter of theory but of practice, as may be seen in dealings of Jesus wifla people to whom he grants favors. In the case of the Syrophoenician woman, Jesus senses right from November-Decentber 1993 833 Dominic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers the beginning how badly she desires the healing of her daughter. His apparent reluctance to accede to her request only brings out all the more her desire, at once insistent and persistent, regard-ing her daughter's welfare. He takes note of it and refers to it with pleasant surprise when he finally' gives his word of favor to her request (see Mk 7:24-30).s Just the opposite is the story of the sick man at the Pool of Bethzatha (Jn 5:1-6). When Jesus sees him and knows how long he has been ill, he asks him, "Do you want to be well again?" It is a surprising question at first, but on reflection very revealing. Jesus cannot heal the sick man unless he first desires it. As the man had been ill for so long, perhaps he no longer has any desire for healing. It is precisely to awaken this desire that Jesus puts the question to him. Today, too, neither Jesus nor his Father can hear any prayer unless it arises in real desire and is poured out in ardent desire and sustained in unabated desire. It matters how much and how far we desire whatever we desire. As I conclude, I find myself won-derii~ g if social activists have an idea how much they can effect by prayer that is sharpened by the "violence" of desire. When I say violence here, I am thinking of that intriguing logion: "The king-dom of God has been subjected to violence and the violent are tak-ing it by storm" (Mt 11:12). Notes ~ See Simon Tugwell, Prayer in Practice (Springfield, Illinois, 1974), p. 75. 2 See The Divine Office, vol. 3 (London, Glasgow, Sydney, Dublin, 1974), p. 662. 3 Letters of Saint Augustine, ed. and trans. John Leinenweber (Liguori, Missouri: Triumph Books, 1992), p. 172. 4 The Markan version lends itself to such an interpretation, unlike the Matthean parallel 21:22 with its connotation of faith as a matter of not doubting about what is prayed for. s Here again Mark is different from Matthew. Mark tells the plain story of the woman with her heart's desire whereas Matthew stylizes it in terms of faith (Mt 15:21-28). 834 Review for Religious JUDETTE A. GALLARES Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Te Book of Ruth is one of the immortal love stories in the ble. It takes as its characters and events ordinary people and mundane life situations to which we can easily find parallels in our world today. The book's primary purpose, however, is not to entertain and delight its audience with plot complications, sus-pense, and a satisfying denouement, but to hold up to its readers and listeners authentic models of covenantal faith? What is this covenantal faith, and how does companionship enter into its perspective? What does the spirituality of compan-ionship teach us in our experiences of change, life transitions, and emptiness? To glean some answers to these questions, it is beneficial to allow to sink into our consciousness Ruth's words to Naomi, her mother-in-law, which have become an immortal prayer of companionship. Let us look at her words within their context as summarized here. During the time of the judges, Elimelech of Bethlehem, together with his wife Naomi and his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, migrated to Moab to escape a famine in Judah. Elimelech died in Moab. His sons married two Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. The two sons also died, however, leaving two childless wid-ows with their widowed mother-in-law. Naomi decided to return to Bethlehem, and her daughters-in-law, set off with her. While they were on the road, she urged her daughters-in-law each to return to her mother's house, for she was unsure of what future Judette A. Gallares RC is involved in spiritual direction and retreat work in the Philippines and conducts courses on biblical spirituality and spiritual direction for lay and religious formators. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 217-G.D. Jakosalem Street; Cebu City 6000; Philippines. Novetnber-Deconber 1993 835 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth they would have with her. Orpah sorrowfully returned to her fam-ily, but Ruth clung to her mother-in-law in spite of Naomi's prod-ding that she follow Orpah's decision. Instead, she responded in these words: Do not press me to leave you and to stop going with you, for wherever you go, I shall go, wherever you live, I shall live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Where you die, I shall die and there I shall be buried. Let Yahweh bring unnameable ills on me and worse ills, too, if anything but death should part me from you! (Rt 1:16-17). Realizing that Ruth was determined to go with her, Naomi stopped urging her. Both went on their journey until they reached Bethlehem. Migration was rather typical of ancient Palestine. Families often migrated because of the frequent occurrence of famine in the area. The country of Moab, with a narrow strip of well-watered and fertile land running north and south in its center, was an attractive refuge, and so Elimelech, Naomi, and their two sons migrated there. This scenario is familiar even today. To escape economic dif-ficulties caused by drought or increased militarization in third-world rural areas, people flock to the cities and towns seeking either the pot of gold or refuge from military oppression. Professionals continually migrate from third-world to first-world countries in search of better opportunities even though, regret-tably, this slows down socioeconomic development in their own countries. Migration for the sake of survival and a better life is an undei'- standable occurrence in any generation and culture. Biblical lit-erature records a number of such departures. We recall Joseph and his famil)) moving to Goshen (Gn 47:27) and a widow fol-lowing Elisha's advice and moving to the land of the Philistines (2 K 8). So Elimelech's decision to leave Bethlehem of Judah together with his family is understandable. To alert us immediately to the development and historical probability of the story, the author also gives the characters names which in Hebrew have symbolic meanings. Elimelech means "my God is king"; Naomi means "pleasant"; the two sons' names, Mahlon and Chilion, .mean "sickness" and "wasting," respectively.2 After they have settled in Moab, death strikes the male members 836 Review for Religious of Naomi's family. Elimelech dies first. Naomi is left with her two sons, who later marry native women. But after ten years the sons also die without leaving any sons. Naomi, a widow of advanced age with no sons but only non-Jewish and childless daughters-in-law, is therefore destined for a life of destitution and social oppression. In her emptiness and poverty, Naomi decides to return to the land of her birth because the famine there is over. Perhaps she thinks her own townspeople will be kinder to her in her poverty than if she were to remain in Moab as a widowed foreigner. Her two widowed daughters-in-law initially go with her, but she urges them to return to their own families. She just cannot impose her desire and longing for her own land and people on her already suffering daughters-in-law, nor can she deprive them of the small consolation that their own homeland would provide them. Besides, she knows that it would be much more dif-ficult for them, being foreigners, to remarry in her homeland than in theirs because Hebrew laws discourage marriage with foreigners.3 Here Naomi is projected as a practical person. She uses the time, not for grieving, but for doing something in a situation that needs a practical solution. Naomi's use of the unusual phrase "mother's house" is to be noted, for a house is usually designated as one's father's.4 Some com-mentators believe it is used to symbolize or to emphasize the absence of men in the women's lives.5 From another perspective it can also be seen as words of consolation to the suffering women, for the word "mother" evokes images of the love, care, and nur-turance one would long for in a time of brokenness. Orpah heeds Naomi's advice and returns to her people: Ruth refuses. Mthough the motif of ~mptiness is strongly accentuated here, by Naomi's saying that her womb will have no more sons, we see that she is not totally bereft, for Ruth would cling to her and not allow her to return to her homeland alone. Responding to her mother-in-law's pleading send-off with words of loyalty and devotion, Ruth vows to accompany Naomi through a per-ilous journey into an uncertain future. Migration for the sake of survival and a better life is an understandable occurrence in any generation and culture. Novevnber-Dece~nber 1993 837 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Ruth pledges covenant fidelity and claims as her own Naomi's place, people, and God.6 In her beautiful and moving response, Ruth clings not to a past but to a present--not to a male through whom she may achieve power and access, but to a female, one who needs her, one for whom she will provide protection, care, and access.7 Ruth thus gives to her mother-in-law the only thing she possesses, her very self. Even if society destines both of them to a life of extreme poverty as widows, they still have each other. We can still see this kind of attitude among simple poor families. They are extremely loyal to their own members and sacrifice for and protect one another in good times and in bad. Together the two widows now turn their faces resolutely toward Palestine and the city of Bethlehem. The distance between Moab and Bethlehem is only about 120 miles, but this stretch represents a long, fatiguing, and dangerous trek in this period, especially for two women who have neither money beyond their barest needs nor protector.8 It is this journey through barren places that will perhaps bring them closer to each other and cause them to cling more closely together for protection, comfort, and support. Covenantal Faith amid Emptiness in Life Transitions The contrast between emptiness and fullness runs through the entire book. This is seen, not only in the setting itself, but also in the lives of the women characters. The famine or the emptiness of the land that sets the story in motion drives Naomi's family to seek greener fields. Leaving one's country and culture as Naomi did is an experience of emptying, an experience of loss: food, rela-tionships, property, land. It is a recurring motif in the life of Israel and throughout salvation history, beginning with God inviting Abraham to leave his clan and his ancestral home for a promised land. In Abraham we see that God's promise and blessing are indissolubly bound up with a departure, an emptying of anything that prevents one from setting out on an adventure with God. For Naomi, however, Moab turned out to be a place of empti-ness, not a land of promise. There she lost not only her husband but her two sons as well. Her emptiness seemed irreparable, her life hollow deep within. These words of the psalmist could have echoed in her heai't: "How could we sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land?" (Ps 137:4 NAB).)It would be difficult indeed for 838 Review for Religious anyone in Naomi's predicament to sing a song to God amid feel-ings of alienation from God, life, others, and even self. Grief has a way of devouring our spiritual life, leaving us in the desert to feel parched, empty, depleted, lonely, and alienated. Naomi could attribute the cause of her incurable emptiness only to God: "Yahweh's hand has been raised against me." Thus, only God also could fill it. Beyond her empty feeling and sense of God's absence is perhaps a fragile hope that God will also cause her misery to cease. Perhaps this was in her mind and heart when, "having heard that Yahweh had come to help his people by giving them food, Naomi prepared to return home." Her poverty and her emptiness are so basic that they can be intimated by an unadorned reference to food. Beyond a need to fill her physical hunger, she perhaps has a keen desire to reconcile herself with the past, to catch a glimpse of home and of who she is meant to be. John Dunne once wrote9: At every turn in the road a new illuminating is needed to find the way and a new kindling is needed to follow the way. Dunne seems to speak here of moments of transition in one's life when one needs to search within to find illumination or guid-ance to continue going forward on the road to life. This search involves returning to the past, to one's home and roots and being reconciled with them. Naomi, in her poverty and emptiness, thinks of home not only as a place where she could experience God's blessing again' (having heard that Yahweh had come to help his people), but also as a place where she can find peace and acceptance of her painful situation ("Do not call me Naomi. Call me Mara, for God has made life bitter for me"). Her words reflect a deep longing that is present in every human heart. A part in us is always yearning and quietly crying out for the true homeland where life is no longer painful and unfair,l° Undoubtedly Naomi's two Moabite daughters-in-law are also experiencing emptiness and grief at losing their husbands. In their loss their initial response is to cling to what is familiar (to continue living with Naomi and to remain in her clan) even if it does not seem to give them any kind of future. Orpah is practical minded in dealing with her emptiness. In spite of the pain of saying good-bye to Naomi and Ruth and to matters that have become famil-iar to her, she heeds Naomi's advice and returns to her mother's November-December 199~ 839 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth house. Perhaps she feels hopeful that life can still offer her a future in her own homeland, and perhaps she, like Naomi, has a renewed glimpse of home and the possibility of who she can still become. Companionship in Time of Transition On the other hand, Ruth clings to her mother-in-law and takes the risk of embracing, her, her land, and her God even if the future is uncertain and seemingly bleak. Although she too is going through ~ransition, she offers Naomi her presence and com-panionship. She feels for her mother-in-law because she too knows the pain of loss and the difficulty of adjusting to a new reality. But, unlike Naomi, she is not allowing this life transition to dis-courage her or to embitter her. For her a return to her mother's house has seemed to be a movement away from what and who she is meant to be. Instead, she follows the movement of Israel's first patriarch by leaving her homeland and venturing into the unknown. Like Abraham she departs from her homeland and empties herself of anything that prevents her from setting out on an adventure with Abraham's and Naomi's God. But, unlike Abraham, she does not perceive the God of Israel as giving her a promise and a blessing. She has none of these assurances. She leaves relying only on Naomi's God and the strength of her love for her mother-in-law. She deals with her emptiness by further emptying herself s~ she can embrace totally the God of Abraham, of Naomi, and of Israel. She lets go of the past in order to embrace the future with great faithfulness. And in these b~autiful words which have become an immortal prayer of fidelity, ~he accompa-nies Naomi through her life transition: Wherever you go, I shill go, wherever you live, I shall live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I shall die and there I shall be buried. Let Yahweh bring unnameable ills on me and worse ills, too, if anything but death should part me from you! (1:16-17 NJB). As we have seen, biblical fidelity recalls the faith of Israel that began with the departure of Abraham and led to the Mosaic covenant with God. It remembers the unique friendship estab-lished between God and Israel that is echoed in the entire Book of.Ruth and is exemplified by Ruth and other people in the story. 840 Review for Religiot~s At the heart of this covenant fidelity is the people's faith that Yahweh is the God of life who calls them to greater life. In the language and setting of today, faith calls us to face the light and to choose life. It enables us to look upon each letting go with optimism and prepares us to face other more painful relin-quishments that commit us more fully to God's service. It enables us to catch a glimpse of who we are meant to be. As with Ruth and Naomi, faith urges us to move forward and embrace the God of life. Notes L Alice L. Laffey, "Ruth," in the New Jerome Biblical Commentary (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1990), p. 553. 2 Ibid. 3 Intermarriage was prohibited, not on ethnic grounds, but to avoid religious syncretism and to foster the worship of Yahweh (see Ex 34:15ff). See Madeleine S. Miller and J. Lane Miller, Harper's Bible Dictiona,7 (New York: Harper and Row Publishers, 1973), p. 422. 4 Ibid. s Ibid. 6 See Laffey, p. 555. 7 Ibid. 8 Edith Deen, All of the Women of the Bible (San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1983), p. 84. 9 Quoted byJoyce Rupp OSM in Praying Our Goodbyes (Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1988), p. 77. ~0 Ibid, p. 24. Novonber-Decentber 1993 841 JOHN P. MOSSI The Spirituality of Surrender Losing, whether it is losing a friendly bet, an important argument, or a business contract, is a difficult pill to swal-low. We detest losing. The same is true for tiny diehard sports fan who endures a hometown rout. We walk away replaying the game, blaming the unfair referees, or creating strategies that "would have" favorably altered the score. When the defeat entails greater stakes, there is higher resis-tance to a surrender. To address a serious problem like addiction is personally painful. Implicit in such reality is a pervasive sense of failure. One has lost control over life's direction. The only way to regain control is to surrender what has not worked and seek a new way. This process is replete with difficulty. This article will examine the spirituality of surrender as a means of comin.g home to God? Surrendering to God will be looked at in three ways. The first involves an understanding of how surrender is operative in twelve-step recovery programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. The second involves a look at the life of Ignatius of Loyola and the surrender components of the final prayer of the Spiritual Exercises, the "Suscipe," or "Take and Receive." The third considers Jesus' act of surrender on the cross in Luke 23:46. Each of these three different "ways" of surren-dering involves putting our ultimate identity and confidence in God. John P. Mossi SJ, a member of the Religious Studies Department at Gonzaga University, facilitates courses in pastoral counseling, spiritual mentoring, addiction and pastoral approaches to recovery, and Catholicism. His address is Gonzaga University; Jesuit Residence; Spokane, Washington 99258. 842 Review for Religious Let Go, Let God At Alcoholics Anonymous meetings or twelve-step recovery retreats, the expression "Let go, let God" is often used. These four important words constitute the core spirituality of A.A. and similar recovery programs that have adapted the twelve steps to their particular addiction. "Let go, let God" is an invitation to surrender one's umnanageable life to God. "Let go, let God" is a gentle conversion reminder, a kind of mantra, which assists us both to admit the addiction and to hand it over along with its various forms of com-pulsions to God. The long form of the prayer would be something like "Let go of alcohol (or whatever the specific substance or non-substance addiction might be) and let the hand and grace of God guide my life." The prayer is not magic. Saying "Let go, let God" does not instantaneously bring about recovery. Its first purpose is to assist the recov-ering addict to keep to the daily partnership task of surrendering the addiction to God. The second purpose of "Let go, let God" is. to be a prayer of liberation, to call on the greater power of God to help one escape from destructive lifestyle patterns. In this way the creative resources of the individual and the action of God are focused on together. The prayer also serves to silence those addic-tion- related inner-committee tapes and voices of doubt, loneli-ness, fear, and caustic shame that can interfere with a person's slow recovery. These, too, need to be handed over to God. I have the greatest admiration for all who enter the surrender process of a twelve-step program. For many, it is the difference between death and life, the difference between barely existing as a human and participating in community, between dysfunction-alism and experiencing the serenity that only God gives with amazing grace. The first three steps of Anonymous programs set up this "Let go, let God" dynamic. The language of the twelve steps is straight-forward and simple. This is part of their wisdom and wide appeal. The steps make sense to a lot of people. Since A.A. began in 1935 at Akron, Ohio, Anonymous recovery programs have multiplied to treat various forms of addiction.2 These include Narcotics "Let go, let God" is an invitation to surrender one's unmanageable life to God. November-December 1993 843 Mossi ¯ The Spirituality of Surrender Anonymous, Overeaters Anonymous, Gamblers Anonymous, Emotions Anonymous, Workaholics Anonymous, Sexaholics Anonymous, M-Anon, and Adult Children of Mcoholics. Let us examine these first three steps. 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol [or the other specific addiction], that our lives had become unmanageable) The first step is crucial. You admit you have a serious prob-lem. There is no denial of the fact. The blunt reality is your life is out of control, in fact, unmanageable. Furthermore, you are powerless to do anything about it. At Anonymous meetings, this first step is handled in an up-front manner. When members speak, they state their first name and their addictiveness: "I'm John. I'm an alcoholic." "I'm Susan. I'm a recovering overeater." In formal religion we might refer to this acknowledgment as group confession. In recovery programs it is simply admitting what can no longer be denied. Step one is an honest, vulnerable beginning place. Owning and naming the unmanageable addiction is essential to the surrendering process. When one is aware o£ a specific uncontrollable disease, one can effectively pray "Let go." But to whom does one surrender? Steps two and three look at the second part of the mantra: "Let God." God is the significant associate in restoring harmony. To appreciate the spirituality of the twelve steps, it is important to reflect that the existence and action of God are mentioned seven times in the twelve steps. The par-ticular addiction is only mentioned once, and that is in the first step. The activity of surrendering one's addiction and life to God becomes the spirituality cornerstone of the remaining steps. 2. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.4 Step two admits the need of an outside corrective authority, a Higher Power, to bring about a stability in one's life. This is the first glimpse of light that invites God in as the restorer of sanity. There are two other important spirituality elements opera-tire in the second step: (i) the belief that a Higher Wisdom exists and (2) a disposition of humility on the part of the believer. These two qualities counterculturally work against the arrogance of the ego that craves to cling to the addiction. Step two indicates that the recovery process entails an attentive listening to a new Teacher, which means that the addict has to take on the attitude 844 Review for Religious of learner. There is a major shift in trust: from addiction to God. 3. We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him.s Step three is where the capitulation actually occurs. First, a concrete decision to surrender has to be made. Second, this deci-sion is total. It includes the will making conscious choices, and it affects one's entire being and journey. Third, the whole person is placed in the care of God according to the individual's faith back-ground. The spirituality of "Let go, let God" is a conversion process. Conversion of its nature has two basic movements: the surren-dering of the compulsion, shame, and destructive addictive pat-terns which reduce freedom; the turning to the care of God and the Holy Spirit to be one's permanent resource of wisdom and identity. Matthew 11:28-30 speaks of a "letting go, letting God" pro-cess: "Come to me, all you who labor and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.''6 These three verses contain the confirmation signs that accompany a true surrender. A learning will occur, the process will be gentle and humble. Rest will be experienced. A new relationship arises, a companionship with the Master, which will be nonaddictive, easy, and light. The Surrender of Ignatius of Loyola Another way of surrendering one's life to God comes from the spirituality of Ignatius's surrender as expressed in his prayer the "Suscipe," or "Take and Receive." On his pilgrim journey Ignatius was called to surrender on several notable occasions. The first was during the defense of the city of Pamplona, Spain. In 1521 Ignatius, wounded by cannon shrapnel, reviewed the illusions of his life as sober death approached. But he did not die. His long convalescence became a conversion process. He gradually yielded up his stubborn self-preoccupation, bravado, and ambition and began to discover a new self in God.7 The spirituality record of Ignatius's surrender to God is found in his classic work, the Spiritual Exercises. Today, 450 years after its first published edition, it is still considered a significant theo-logical work noted for its integration of Scripture, guidelines for Nove~nber-Dece'mber 1993 845 Mossi ¯ The Spirituality of Surrender discernment, sense of mission, and themes of justice. The Exercises' developmental stages of growth in discipleship and intimacy enable a person to come home to God. The last prayer of the Exercises is called the "Suscipe" or "Take and Receive." I invite you to spend some time contemplating the components of this prayer. What is Ignatius, the once vain soldier-at- arms, now a mystic, asking us to do? Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will-- all that I have and call my own. You have given it all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace. That is enough for me.8 The "Suscipe" is a deceptively profound prayer. It invites us to acknowledge the primacy of God in our totality; it answers the humbling question "What aspect of our being is not a gift of God?" In the light of this answer, Ignatius invites us to surrender all to God. The last part of the prayer is a seeking of the purer gifts: "Give me only your love and grace. That is enough for me." Ignatius does not compromise in the process of "letting go of self and letting God in." I recall a forceful experience in praying the "Suscipe." It hap-pened fifteen years ago during a retreat. I attempted to pray and could not. I realized I had not surrendered anything, certainly not my liberty, memory, understanding, and will to anyone, much less to God. I told my director that I could not pray this prayer at all. As a consequence, I seriously questioned remaining a Jesuit. The director gave sage advice. He invited me to return to the chapel and pray the "Suscipe" with my own words in my own way. I prayed, "Lord, I give you my sins which I know so well, those many areas of my life where I am not obedient, poor, and chaste. I give you my pride, my negativity, my hatred and vin-dictiveness, my compulsive rebellion and addictiveness to self. I am overly familiar with these dark recesses. And I truly need to sur-render these to you. Send forth your Holy Spirit to guide, anoint, ¯ and heal with a love that I am most in need of, your grace." 846 Review for Religious Like an ambush, the opportunity to surrender can appear at unlikely moments. Do not let the occasion pass by. The benefit of letting God in always outweighs whatever is surrendered. Jesus on the Cross We turn to the spirituality of Jesus and the particular way he has taught us to surrender. He, too, had to face a special moment of surrender. His prayer in Luke 23:46 is a powerful expression of letting go: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.''9 Here on the cross Jesus is still the master teacher. He models for us how to pray and hand over our daily experiences and our life to God. Notice the key elements: (1) The prayer is addressed to the Father; (2)Jesus urges us to surrender, to commend, to let go; (3) Jesus specifies what is to be handed over. He gives what little is left, his spirit and last breath. In the daily minor or major surrenders of our own pilgrimage, we can pray in the spirituality of either the twelve steps, Ignatius, or Jesus. Specify in the "Let go, let God" mantra and the "Suscipe" whatever needs to be named and yielded: "Let go of addiction and manipulation. Let God in." "Take, Lord, my dis-honesty, my hurts, my doubts and sinfulness." God can handle and work with these blighted areas quite well. Adapt the prayer of Jesus to your immediate concerns: "Father, into your hands I commit my grief, my sense of failure, my disappointment, my pettiness and vulnerability." Commend these regions of brokenness to the higher compassion and under-standing of God. It is clear that not only our joys but also our sorrows must be offered to God. Our ability to be powerless allows God to meet us and tenderly heal us on our journey, embracing us as we truly are. Moreover, the art 6f surrendering involves a lifelong process. Some days we succeed better than others. If we post-pone learning the spirituality of surrender, we will face it unpre-pared at death, when .the surrender is sudden. Perhaps we can learn to surrender to the care, to the heart, of God in advance. Notes ~ For more information on this topic, see Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991), pp. 162-181. Nove'mber-December 1993 847 Mossi * The Spirituality of Surrender 2 Ernest Kurtz, Not-God: A Histo~7 of Alcoholics Anonymous (Center City, Minn.: Hazeldon, 1991), pp. 37-57. 3 Anonymous, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, 1952), p. 21. 4 Ibid, p. 25. ~ Ibid, p. 34. 6 The New Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday, 1985). 7 St. Ignatius' Own Story, trans. William J. Young sJ (Chicago: Henry Regnery Co., 1956), pp. 7-27. 8 David L. Fleming SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1980), p. 141. 9 The New Jerusalem Bible. Retreat: A Flight The gulls are going wild over the waters; dipping, zooming, swirling over the wild waters. Far away, at horizon's edge, two ships imperceptibly inch against a purpling sky. I look up and see clouds playing charades before my eyes; straight out, the waves, wind-tossed, chase the dunes relentlessly. It is December at Mantoloking, and my Advent prayer has taken off with the clouds and the winds and the waves. I surrender, like a Maid of long ago to a time of begetting: in Mary, a Word made Flesh. in me, a sign become Faith. each a way of holding Beauty as a born-for-us Savior in a free-for-all world where the gulls (and my heart) go dipping, zooming, swirling with the wild of wonder. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 848 Review for Religious JEFFREY GROS The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious When Pope John emphasized the unity of the church and its openness to the world in inaugurating Vatican Council II, few realized the cost that such conversion would exact. Some felt euphoria, expecting the whole Roman Catholic Church to be zealous for reunion among Christians and hoping for a quick resolution of the theological, sacra-mental, and historical problems dividing the churches. Others, even some receptive to conciliar reform, had the superficial expectation that ecumenical openness would settle for a warm but noncommittal outreach, diminishing hostilities but not calling for the radical conversion and institutional reform outlined in the conciliar decree on ecumenism. The last twenty-five years have been a reward-ing and challenging pilgrimage for the Roman Catholic Church and for its Christian partners on the road toward full visible unity. Those who would consider the ecu-menical movement dead have not been following the lit-erature nor have they felt spiritual bonds of communion becoming stronger as many ofhers have. The Holy Spirit has been very much at work, but not all have yet been vis-ited with the gift of conversion. It is small wonder that, as the Roman Catholic Church assesses its ecumenical involvement and charts its course for the future, its Directory for the Application of Principles Jeffrey Gros FSC works in the Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs. His address is 3211 4th Street N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017-1194. ecurnenJsrn November-December 1993 849 Coos * The Ecumenical Vocation of Reli#ous and Norms on Ecumenism (June 1993) gives special emphasis to ecumenical formation.~ Indeed, the ecumenical movement has been so successful that a whole genre of literature has emerged, resulting from the ecumenical dialogue, that calls for both spe-cialized study and incorporation into the spiritual life of all Catholics, including religious. Twenty-five years ago it was pos-sible to be ecumenical merely by being open to and supportive of the general conciliar position and by praying for the unity of the church. Today ecumenical commitments have become a richer and more complex spectrum. Most religious-formation programs gave emphasis to ecumenism a decade or two ago. They need evaluation today to see if they continue faithful to the develop-ments of this part of Catholic identity. In the new Directory there is for the first time a specific section devoted to institutes of con-secrated life and societies of apostolic life, not only laying out principles, but also proposing delegates and commissions for ecu-menism at the highest levels in religious institutes.2 This Directory is a help towards renewal. It covers such top-ics as the basis in Catholic theology for ecumenical commitment; the structures in the Catholic Church--including religious com-munities- to support the ecumenical commitment; ecumenical formation of the laity and the clergy, and within specialized min-istries and institutions; spirituality as it pertains to common bap-tism, marriage, and sacramental sharing; and cooperation and common witness. After a short introduction this essay will be lim-ited to some rather general comments on two issues: ecumenical formation and collaboration. Religious have been instrumental in Roman Catholic ecu-menism- such pioneers as Congar, Tavard, Rahner, and Dulles. Some religious communities have prayer and work for the unity of the church as their charism, like the Graymoor friars and sis-ters and the Paulist fathers? Others have set up special supports for the ecumenical movement, like the Jesuit Society of Ecumenists and the Benedictine centers at Collegeville, Chevetogne, Turvey, and Niederaltaich. Outreach programs to incorporate lay people in, for example, Jesuit, Mercy, or Lasallian spirituality and apostolates have been thoroughly ecumenical in their membership and formation. Schools, hospitals, and other institutions animated by religious in leadership positions have pioneered the ecumenical program of the Catholic Church. Among diocesan ecumenical officers are many religious. Where 850 Review for Religious shared mission is a priority, the baptismal basis and commitment to full ecclesial communion are central to the common forma-tion of the fellow Christians who are brought into collaboration with Roman Catholic religious according to their particular charisms. These developments, like the other elements of renewal, have been adapted according to cultural context and the quality of vision provided by ecclesiastical and religious leadership. The Context Certainly many bishops and religious superiors will use the occasion of the publication of the Directory as an opportunity to train specialists in ecumenical leadership, much as retraining in canon law developed after the publication of the 1983 Code.4 As in biblical, social, and liturgical renewal, expertise is necessary in ecumenism. It is essential, however, that all religious, lay, and clerical members of the church be formed ecumenically as part of their spiritual and apostolic life. The Second Vatican Council clearly asked Catholics to reach out in love to all other Christians with a charity that desires and works actively to overcome in truth whatever divides them from one another. For the council, Catholics are to act in hope and in prayer to promote Christian unity. They will be prompted and instructed by their faith in the mystery of the church, and their ecumenical activity will be inspired and guided by a true understanding of the church as "sacrament or iristrumental sign of intimate union with God, and of unity of the whole human race.''s In this sho~'t essay attention will be called to the ecumenical dimension of Roman Catholic spirituality and identity in its pres-ent challenges. Among the institutional supports to religious involved in the ecumenical movement is the National Ecumenical Consultation of Men and Women Religious. This .group's publication of Religious for Christian Unity as an ecumenical resource and direc-tory and its sponsorship of a national ecumenical conference under the theme "Toward a Communion in Faith Life and Witness" are indications of a certain maturity.6 Although there has been an international ecumenical consultation for twenty years, the United States consultation is only nine years old. It is sponsored in part by the Conference of Major Superiors of Men and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. With the publication and the November-December 1993 851 Gros ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Reh~ous May 1993 conference, the specific ecumenical contribution of religious begins to have a higher profile. For the first time, the Directory proposes a structure within religious congregations to assist in the ecumenical activity of com-munities at all levels: It is very opportune that the various institutes of conse-crated life and societies of apostolic life establish, on the level of their central authorities, a delegate or a commis-sion charged with promoting and assisting their ecumenical engagement. The function of these delegates or commis-sions will be to encourage the ecumenical formation of all the members, aid the specific ecumenical formation of those who have particular offices, and act as advisors for ecu-menical affairs to the various general and local authorities of the institutes and societies, especially for initiating or carrying forward the activities described [in the Directory].7 This initiative will elicit considerable work on the part of major superiors, general councils, and chapters. The implications of this proposal will need to be developed in writing for the var-ious institutes. For this project the Directory will be useful. Elements of the Ecumenical Spirituality At the root of loyalty to Christ's will for the church and for church unity is the process of conversion, personal and institu-tional, s There are cultural dispositions that make the formation for such a conversion more or less easy. Of course, a prayerful open-ness to the Holy Spirit's action in the church, in other churches, and in fellow Christians is foundational. Because ecumenism with all its human and moral require-ments is rooted so profoundly in the mysterious working out of the providence of the Father, through the Son and the Spirit, it reaches into the depths of Christian spirituality. It calls for [a] "change of heart and holiness of life, along with public and private prayer for the unity of Christians. ¯ ." Those who identify deeply with Christ must identify with his prayer, and especially with his prayer for unity; . . ¯ those whose lives are marked by repentance will be espe-cially sensitive to the sinfulness of divisions and will pray for forgiveness and con, version. Those who seek holiness will be able to recognize its fruits also outside the visible boundaries of their own church.9 However, studies of seminary formation that were made by 852 Review for Religious diocesan ecumenical officers demonstrate that the most effective ecumenical formative experience is growing up in an interchurch family. Other elements that contributed most to the ecumenical dimension of priestly formation in the United States are (I) internship with an ecumenically effective priest, (2) ecumenically effective spiritual directors, (3) internships with an ecumenically informed non-Catholic minister, and (4) experiences in ecu-menically mixed clinical pastoral education programs. All of the seminaries report that the ecumenical dimension is fully inte-grated into the curriculum. The Directory will be helpful for eval-uating these claims. As sketched out by the council, the elements of Roman Catholic participation in the ecumenical movement include (1) the ecumenical dimension of spirituality, (2) theological dialogues leading to deeper understanding and toward full church unity, (3) collaboration in common witness and service, and (4) internal renewal of the members and structures of the church in response to ecumenical commitments. Attention needs to be given to each of these dimensions in initial and continuing formation and in the ongoing life of a religious community or parish. Ecumenical Spirituality for the Church An ecumenical spirituality is at the center of every aspect of the renewal of religious and lay life in the church. Without con-version to Christ's will for the church--in this case its visible unity and Roman Catholic contributions thereto--any theologi-cal, institutional, or educational progress towards full commu-nion will be superficial. If, on the other hand, Catholics are fully committed to all to whom they are bound by real, if imperfect, communion in baptism and to Christ's will for the visible unity of the church, then no setbacks on the road toward that unity will discourage them or make them complacent about divisions: The ecumenical movement is a grace of God, given by the Father in answer to the prayer of Jesus and the supplica-tion of the church inspired by the Holy Spirit. While it is carried out within the general mission of the church to unite humanity in Christ, its own specific field is the restoration of unity among Christians. Those who are baptized in the name of Christ are, by that very fact, called to commit themselves to the search for unity?° Noventber-Decevnber 1993 853 Coos ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious While individual religious and some communities have given considerable leadership to church reform in general and ecu-menism in particular, identity problems also affect the relationship of religious and the church. The Nygren/Ukeritis studies show that United States religious have "a stronger ecclesiology than Christology." ii This is not surprising, given the Roman Catholic The vast amount of ecumenical literature that has emerged in the last thi'rty years can help people renew their understandings of sacramental faith together. understanding of spirituality. I would understand this conclusion to mean that Christ is experienced more sacramentally, communally, and in mission than in indi-vidualistic or contemplative encounters. Such a focus on community can mean two things, as a resource for Catholic ecu-menical commitment. In one instance it can mean a more closed and sectarian approach, where primary religious identity and meaning come from the proximate religious community, its institution~ and ministry, rather than from Christ's wider will for the church and the world. Needless to say, this provides a weaker basis for ecu-menical conversion and formation. On the other hand,this ecclesiocen-tric spirituality could indicate that the experience of Christ is primarily in the call to community in the church, in the wider Christian society, and in the whole human family. At this stage in the reporting of the data, "ecclesiology" is yet to be defined. Be that as it may, the fully Catholic religious sees his or her sacramental life as yet defi-cient, short of the full communion of all Christians around the eucharistic table. The data from the same study shows religious to be "clear in their lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in. general.''12 These words, negative as they sound, may however be interpreted as a critical fidelity to the Holy Spirit's call to the church for its renewal. A higher ideal for the church, its renewal, its leadership, and its eventual unity may not be so much "lowered respect" as elevated expectation and longer-range vision. The movement toward Christ's will for a united church is a critical fidelity for all of the churches involved in the ecumenical movement. 854 Review for Religious The vast amount of ecumenical literature that has emerged in 'the last thirty years can help people renew their understandings of sacramental faith together. The agreements on "justification by grace through faith" with the Lutherans, for example, provide an important contribution to faith development, self-under-standing, and spiritual direction?3 These documents will not reach their full fruitfulness unless they transform the prayer life, litur-gical celebration, and community understanding of the churches that produced them: Catholics should also give value to certain elements and goods, sources of spiritual life, which are found in other churches and ecclesial communities, and which belong to the one church of Christ: Holy Scripture, the sacraments and other sacred actibns, faith, hope, charity and other gifts of the Spirit. These goods have borne fruit for example in the mystical tradition of the Christian East and the spiritual treasures of the monastic life, in the worship and piety of Anglicans, in the Evangelical prayer and the diverse forms of Protestant spirituality. This appreciation should not remain merely theoreti-cal; in suitable particular conditions, it should be completed by the practical knowledge of other traditions of spiritual-ity. Therefore, sharing prayer and participating in some form of public worship or in devotional acts of other Christians can have a formative value when in accord with existing directives.14 Religious have a unique role in translating these intellectual con-tributions into popular piety. Indeed, several ecumenical books on the Blessed Virgin have already provided an invaluable resource, as can be noted by the many languages into which they have been translated,is The lives of ecumenical figures from Luther to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., from John WeslEy to C.S. Lewis, have enr.iched the spiritual reading of a generation and made the divisions both more clear and more subject to the healing power of the Holy Spirit. The modern availability of the spiritual classics from the full range of ecumenical sources, Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, and Anglican has enabled all to be enriched. The living presence of fellow Christians with whom we share Christ--in a variety of traditions, but with a common will to be obedient to Christ's call to visible unity--is a rich complement to the liturgical, bio-graphical, and literary gifts we receive from one another. Like the charisms of the various religious communities and their November-December 1993 855 Gros ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Religlous founders, each church brings to a united church gifts we dare not lose as we reconcile our divisions. More particularly, giveR the legitimate variety of charisms and of the work of monasteries, institutes of consecrated life, and societies of apostolic life, it is very important that "all communities should participate in the life of the church. According to its individual character, each should make its own and foster in every possible way the enterprises and objectives of the church," including the "ecumenical field.''~6 In addition to personal and communal ecumenical spirituality, an "ecumenical hermeneutics of piety" will need to be developed as we move forward towards full communion?7 Indeed, as the "lineamenta" document for the 1994 synod notes, the baptismal consecration, beyond the narrow borders of the Roman Catholic Church, is the criterion for our communi-tarian outreach: As a reflection of church communion, the community is not a unit closed in.upon itself. Rather, it is open to the multiplicity of relationships with others which are provided by prayer, apostolic service, and collaboration with other members of the church, all of whom share in the same bap-tismal consecration and are called to holiness and mission in the variety and complementarity of each vocation. In its communitarian aspect, the role of the consecrated life is to offer to all members of the people of God the supreme value of the charity of Christ's disciples, lived in perseverance in fraternal communion.~8 Likewise, the agenda of the synod is very explicit about the spe.cificity of the spiritual calling: Those in the consecrated life have a special role in this ecu-menical task, in dialogue with the spiritual experiences akin to those of other churches and Christian confessions, in a spiritual ecumenism of conversion, prayer, dialogue and mutual edification, always in kedping with their proper iden-tity in the faith and their charism?9 Formation for an Ecumenical Spirituality While prayer and ecumenical openness are central to the ecu-menical vocation of Catholics, including the religious communi-ties, this spirituality also has specific intellectual content. It is a truism that one cannot be an effective ecumenist from any tradi- 856 Review for Religious tion without being firmly grounded in one's own faith and iden-tity. 2° However, 'the intellectual content of the ecumenical move-ment, including Roman Catholic principles and history within that movement, is an essential component for the formation of any ministry in the church, lay, clerical, or religious. In addition to the foundational principles enunciated in the conciliar and postconciliar docu-ments, 21 there has been a rich harvest of dialogue agreements.~ All of these texts are resources for spiritual and intellectual " renewal, requiring the same level of delib-erate systematic effort as did the early days of the biblical and liturgical renewal. Until leaders in our institutions, dioceses, and religious communities become well formed in these matters, their spirit will not be able to come alive in our Catholic life. Indeed, these dialogues and the researches and methodologies that stand behind them transform not only our appreciation of our own Catholic faith, but also of the changes necessary if our insti-tutions and practices are to be converted to reach the ideal we outline with our ecumenical partners. As was noted above, the curricula of seminaries have been transformed by the ecumenical movement. Those who receive their training in ecumenical con-sortia are probably the most sensitive to the ecumenical dimen-sion, but no one taking a Catholic scripture course can be ignorant of the full integration of Catholic and Protestant biblical schol-arship since the council. Similarly, any competent liturgy or sacramental-theology course will be informed by the vast literature that has come from the World Council's "Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry" processz3 over the last decade and from the bilateral agreements of a wide variety of churches. Soteriology, spiritual development, and eccle-siology are all informed by the Lutheran/Catholic work on grace cited above. Ecclesiology will include not only the principles of Catholic ecumenism, but also the work done in the World Council and in various dialogues on such topics as the local and the uni-versal church, religious liberty and proselytism, and papal pri- One cannot be an effective ecumenist from any tradition without being firmly grounded in one's own faith and identity. November-December 1993 857 Coos * The Ecumenical Vocation of Relig4ous macy and infallibility. The Directory gives helpful detail for plan-ning both clerical and nonclerical religious formation.24 For the first time a section in this Directory sets the stage for the work of ecumenical formation among religious: While the concern for restoring Christian unity involves the whole church, clergy and laity alike, relig

Issue 51.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1992. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 6 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents religious life directions 806 Journeying Together in Faith Paul K. Hennessy CFC sets forth three themes from the Israelite covenant experience pertinent to religious life. 815 Communities of Hope Donna Markham OP suggests a dynamic of'religious life in terms of bringing forth a new way of life based on collaboration, mutuality, and respect. 823 The Service of Lay Associates Patricia McNicholas OSU examines different responses to the trend of religious communities sponsoring associate membership programs. dialogue ministry 830 Inculturation as Dialogue Diana Taufer SC suggests that interculturation better describes the task of church ministers in working among the Na~:ive American peoples. 839 Jewish-Catholic Dialogue since Vatican II Alan Altany describes how both Jews and Catholics approach the dialogue and also what dynamics the continuing dialogue will involve. formation and ministry 854 The Media and the Good News Patil F. Harman SJ challenges the Christian disciple to enter into the communications media with imagination and fortitude. 866 The Core of Ministry Laura Morgan FMSC discovers a garden of olives as the meeting place between God and us. 870 Spirituality in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moren6 SJ ~aighlights the fundamental traits of a spirituality that is moving the Latin American church. 802 Review for Religious values and virtues 882 Confidentiality: Erosion and Restoration James F. Keenan SJ underscores the standard norms of confiden-tiality when therapy involves a client, a therapist, and a religious superior and community. 895 Detachment: The Enclosed Garden of the Soul Judy Bush describes various forms of everyday detachments by which God leads us to closer union. 906 The Spirit at Play Kenneth Homan describes how God's Spirit encourages us to become playful stewards. prayer and life 911 Iconoclasm for Holiness' Sake Julie Hollitt FDNSC ventures through iconoclasm to discover the extraordinary with the ordinary. 916 Four Types of Prayer Anthony H. Ostini SJ presents four ways of praying traditional in the church. 920 Broken Arrows Joseph F. Nassal CPPS reflects on a solitude necessary for heal-ing and transforming our life together. departments 804 Prisms 927 Canonical Counsel: Secular Institutes 933 Book Reviews 951 Indexes to Volume 51 November-December 1992 803 prisms ~henever we celebrate the feast of Christmas, we come face-to-face with our ways of imaging and under-standing God. Drawing close to a baby in a manger does not seem difficult for young or old, for shepherds or the-ologians. Yet the implications of such an imaging need to be appropriated anew by people in every age and culture. The Christmas tableau challenges our way of evalu-ating ourselves, our relationships with others, and our own response to God. People of our time, we find it nat-ural to stress our personal gifts and talents; we look to our strength in self-image and our self-reliance in thought and action. And, yes, we are made aware of a lot of proper healthy correctives given to us today by the psychological sciences. We are encouraged to pull our own strings, to be confrontative and even aggressive in pursuing our goals. Yet the angels' trumpeted Gloria above a stable reminds us that human dignity and personal choice are not values without restrictions or limits. Today our relationship with God centers often on gender-imaging, but with the result that something like "the force be with you" expresses the compromise of a god-without-a-face. In the midst of some overly serious abstract arguments and of our age's all-too-limiting focus on personal expe-rience comes a human baby named Jesus, whose mother is Mary. Each time we place ourselves in wonder before this creche, we are enabled to glimpse some of the deepest realities about divine and human life. Jesus comes to us as poor and humble. He is poor, not only because like any baby he is totally dependent for food and shelter on others, but also because he incarnates God's chosen way of relating to us. Jesus shows us a God who 804 Review for Religious truly needs us, who waits upon our response, who suffers our indifference as well as our petty insistences on making gods more to our own liking. Jesus brings home to us that God is not a mighty one who delights in hurling lightning bolts or an impas-sive one seated on a cloud and forever lost in contemplation. We rejoice in being led to a God who has chosen to make himself so needy that our efforts can fill what is still lacking in the redemp-tive act and that our prayers and our actions do build up the com-munity of the city of God. In fact, in recognizing such a God, we know that being poor is not a curse but a grace that makes us more like God. When we recognize our neediness as a fact in our relation to others and to God, then our poverty is truly becoming our graced choice. We are becoming like Jesus; divinity becomes us. Again like any poor person, the Son of Mary and the car-penter must labor for the necessities of life. He will say that every-thing he has is gift given by the one he knows as Abba, but at the same time, because this God is one who works, Jesus matter-of-factly professes "I work." And from the very beginning Jesus calls others to labor with him--so reminiscent of that creation account of God asking the first humans to work in bringing the garden to a greater fruitfulness. Jesus again brings home to all of us that God is the first of collaborators. If we want to grow more in the divine life, our direction is clear. To work with oth-ers is the dynamic of Christian living--in families, in workplaces, in parishes and religious communities, in ecumenical endeavors, in civil society. To celebrate Christmas is not to seek escape into magical stars and angels singing and plum puddings and once-a-year friendly greetings. We Christians worship a God who chooses to be poor like us so that we might make a similar choice and thus realize a richness which can only be God's gift. We Christians step for-ward to take on the responsibility of collaboration with God for the coming of the kingdom; like our God, we catch sight of our real selves not in doing our good works for others, but always in acting with others. God so loved the world., and in our so liv-ing and in our so working we make real our love for God, our-selves, our neighbor, and our world. That this be the Christmas grace for us all is the prayer of the editorial staff. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1992 805 PAUL K. HENNESSY Journeying Together in Faith religious life directions A joint assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) was held August 26-30, 1992 in Greensboro, North Carolina. This article and the one which follows are the addresses of the presidents of CMSM and LCVV~R. The theme we set for ourselves, "Now is the Time . . . Religious Life at a Moment of Kairos," is calling us to a journey in faith. Contemporary congregational leaders need to journey frequently. Ministry to our sisters and brothers and those they serve requires more than a tele-phone and a fax. For communities with personnel spread far and wide, frequent-flyer credits build up quickly. One of my personal rules of travel, especially in developing countries, where bus or airplane delays can be inter-minable, is to be involved in a good novel. Ever since I read The Day of the Jackal many years ago, I have been attracted to Frederick Forsyth's books. While waiting in JFK Airport in New York before a five-week visit to our South American communities recently, I began his Deceiver. In this three-part novel, an older German gendeman spy falls in love with a much younger prostitute, whom he later kills because of her infidelity. The novel's protagonist, Sam McCready, consults a psychiatrist about Paul K. Hennessy CFC, provincial of the Eastern American province of the Congregation of Christian Brothers, is midway through his two-year term as president of Conference of Major Superiors of Men. His address is 21 Pryer Terrace; New Rochelle, New York 10804-4499. 806 Review for Religious possible reactions this fellow, spy may have, since he needs him to complete a job. The German has disappeared. The ensuing dia- 10gue struck me as pertinent on many levels and precipitated some thoughts ~:or this address, which I wrote in Peru, a country very close to God in its poverty and dependence and, therefore, ani-mated by wonderful hope. The passage is as follows: "Fugue," Dr. Carr purst~ed as he speared a forkful of tender sole meuni~re, "means flight. Flight from reality, especially ~iarsh, unpleasant reality. I think your man will by now be in a really bad way." "What will he actually do?" asked McCready. "Where will he go?" "He will go to a sanctuary, somewhere he feels safe, ~ome,where he can hide, where all the problems will go away and people will leave him alone. He may even return to a Childlike state. I had a patient once who, overcome by prob-lems, returned to tied, curled into the fetal position, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and stayed there. Wouldn't come out. Childlike, you see. Safety, security. No problems. Excellent sole, by the way. Yes, a little more Meursault. Thank you." Each of us, I am sure, encounters people, inside or outside our communities, who prefer to look to the future through the rear-' view mirror: "Let's go back to where we were. Times really haven't changed." Underlying this, of course, is the implication that the past was better than the present. As we know, such comparisons can involve value judgments about loyalty and authenticity. As I journeyed aboizt South America and reflected upon the struggle inherent in continual conversions and authentic renewal and i'efounding, I could not help reflecting upon the journey our ancestors in faith, the Israelites, were called to make from Egypt to Canaan, from the old to the new. Are we not also daughters and sons ot the covenant? Three themes fr6m the covenant experience, from covenant theology, seem especially pertinent to us today: first, God's initiative in creation, in vocation, i.n pouring forth wisdom and giving.us discerning hei~rts; second, the attraction of returning to Egypt from the confusion of the journey, but the irresponsibiiity of doing so; third, the promise, which is faithful and immutable. Although the two creation narratives in Genesis differ sub-stantially in origin and in content, the common element.is that the initiative is God's. "In the beginning, when God created the heav-ens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and dark- Nove~nber-December 1992 807 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faith ness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said . . ." (Gn 1:1-3). In the second account: "At the time when the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, while as yet there was no field shrub on earth and no grass of the field had sprtuted., the Lord God formed man." (Gn 2:4a-7). The belief of our biblical forebears was that God is the initiator of all that is good and meaningful. We have the capacity to be selfish, to be confused about who is in charge. We have the capacity to sin, bu~ we cannot create something new without God. The call of the great leader Moses, together with his sister Miriam and his brother Aaron, is forthrightly a call, a vocation, from God. The call to minister, to lead, is not one we take upon ourselves. "Come, now! I will send you to Pharaoh to lead my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt" (Ex 3:10). Throughout the Scriptures we are reminded that, in some mysterious and yet direct way, it is God who calls and sends forth: Abraham and Sarah; Hannah and her son, Samuel; David; Zechariah and Elizabeth; Mary and, yes, Jesus. "Then a voice came from the heavens: 'You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests.' At that point the Spirit sent him out toward the desert [and he was] put to the test there by Satan" (Mk 1:11-13). While Solomon is the prototype of dependence on God for wisdom and understanding, the theme runs throughout our Scriptures. The forceful poetic rendition of this message in chap-ter 38 of the Book of Job is one I heard a retreat master recite from memory: "Then the Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said: Who is this that obscures divine plans with words of ignorance? Gird up your loins now, like a man; I will question you, and you tell me the answers! Where were you when I founded the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding" and so forth. Note in a much different context the wise advice of Gamaliel before the Sanhedrin after the apostles are tried: "My advice is that you have nothing to do with these men. Let them alone. If their purpose or activity is human in its origins, it will destroy itself. If, on the other hand, it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them without fighting God" (Ac 5:38-39). The author of this account clearly understands the prophetic statement as an inspired one. The duty of a leader is to search prayerfully for the wisdom which is of God and not to depend on that wisdom which is solely our own. This leads us to the discernment of spirits. The spirit in our 808 Review for Religious Scriptures, which are the testimony of the faith of our Jewish and Christian forebears, is always a fructifying one which leads us to integrity and joy. Note in Psalm 1 that the person who delights in the law of God and meditates on it day and night is like a tree planted near running water that yields fruit in due season and whose leaves never fade. Integrity and joy as well as peace and kindness are always hall-marks of the Spirit's presence (see Ga 5:22- 26). The Book of Sirach reminds us that people who open their lips in prayer and ask pardon for sin will be filled with the spirit of understanding and will pour forth words of wisdom and give thanks to the Lord (see Si 39:6). What is the application of all this for leadership in religious communities in today's world, especially here in the United States? Clearly, we must be people of faith and hope supported by prayer: faith that the God who worked in unexpected and wonderful ways in ages past has not deserted us; hope and prayer, because we have to have the courage to express our inabilities, our own sinfulness, and our own confidence in the promise. There is a natural concern in our societies today for new mem-bership, and we could be discouraged by a naive understanding of fruitfulness. Looking again at Psalm 1, we note that the tree by the running water does not clone or multiply itself. It ~inks even deeper roots into the fertile ground so that its own integrity is more secure--reminding us that the quality of our religious lives depends on us and that we have control over it in ways in which we cannot control the number of members. There is a clear hunger among us for a greater understanding of contemplation and its fundamental place in our own spiritual lives. In our common discernment in Louisville in 1989, it was identified as one of the most important Of the transformative ele-ments which would lead us to the next century. Last year it was the theme for the LCWR assembly in Albuquerque. There are voices which, without entering into our processes and our prayer, would criticize our direction. We cannot mistrust the movement of the Spirit which we leaders, numbering one thousand, experience. The quality of our religious lives depends on us, and we have control over it in ways in which we cannot control the number of members. Noventber-Decentber 1992 809 Hennessy ¯ ffourneying Togetber in Faith We must challenge ourselves and those we serve to form new communities of women and men, confessing their dependence on God's initiative and joyously reflecting God's beauty and wis-dom. This is a gotd ~hat clearly re.sponds to the creativity of Yahweh throughout our sacred history. In Louisville we identified the first three transformative elements as calls to prophetic wit- .ness, contemplation, and a clear Option fo.r the poor. Can we have go.tten closer to covenant theology? Reconsidering the advice of Gamaliel, we must be convinced that, if our "purpose or activity is human in origin, it wil! destroy itself." If, on the other hafid, it comes from God, "people will not be able to destroy it without fighting God." The Bdok of Exodus reflects our journey. It is a wonde.rful source for meditation. We read of high aspirations of fidelity and great sinfulness in cowardice and betrayal. I began this address with a quotation from Forsyth about a character tempted to reg,ress into the past. Do we not see this same confused longing among the Israelites? Do we not identify with Moses and Myriam? After all they have done to free the people from Egypt, in a short time, we are told, these same peopl.e "grumbled against Misses and Aaron" and said to them, "Would that we had died . . . in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! Bu.t you had to lead us into the desert to make the wl~ole community die of famine" (Ex ~6:2-3). Over and over, lived experience depicted in literature, both sacred and secu!ar, reflects perennial wisdom that we can never go home a.gain. Sefin Sammon FMS, in his presidential address at the CMSM assembly in San Antonio last August, reflected the reac-tions of people in the midst of major periods of transition. Certain!y one of these is to deny there is change going on. Another is to blame the leader, as the Israelites did. I am quite confident that the vast majority of the communities of women and'men religious in the United States have maturely and prayer-fully addressed the impact of the changes in society on our con-secrated lives. I am sure we have made mistakes and are willing to admit them, but I feel that overall we have been on target. While it is natural that some members within our communities have not welcomed the changes necessitated by a changed society, we have also had to expend a lot of energy defending ourselves from crit-icisms from outside our commu.nities, from people who have not walked in our 'moccasins. This is unfortunate, and we may need to 810 Review for Religious be very careful that we do not neglect that prophetic leadership which the vast majority of our members has called us to give. We are called to let the individual founding charisms which brought our communities into existence shine brightly in a transformed society. I have been privileged for the last four years to serve in a leadership position in CMSM. This has brought me into close contact with the men and women leading both our conferences. I trust my experience. I have observed firsthand how mature and faith-filled women and men can come together to listen, to respect, to collaborate, and to grow in love. Together we have learned and we continue to learn about prayer, about witness, about the poor, about the environment, and about striving for peace based on justice. Many in this room were gathered in Louisville three years ago and experienced our solidarity about our future. Why should we doubt that God is leading us? Theologians have consistently identified the sensus fidelium, the prayerful and thoughtful experience of good Christians, as one of the focal points for determining the will of God. Let us trust our own experience and continue to move forward. Certainly, we can be misled at times individually and even collectively, but we do not seek easy answers. Jesus reserves his harshest criticism for those with easy answers. He does not always question their sincerity, although sometimes he does, but he reminds them that God is continually pouring forth new wisdom. The Pharisees were not bad people, but they were terrified of change. Their monolithic understanding, as devout as it may have been, did not allow God to continue to bring forth the new, to pour new wine into new wineskins. The desire to go back to Egypt may have been attractive in the midst of uncertainty, but was it faithful to the call? Almost twenty years ago Thomas E. Clarke SJ, the philoso-pher and writer, collected a series of his essays into a book enti-tled New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today (Paulist, 1973). In the foreword he said: How are we to disengage Christian faith from the time-bound cultural expressions and vehicles of the past without the loss of integrity? That is indeed the question at the heart of the anguish, tensions, and polarizations character-istic of a period which has turned out to be as much a new Passion as a new Pentecost. No group in the church has November-December 1992 811 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faith had to deal with the question with greater seriousness than members of religious communities and particularly of American communities of religious women. In my opinion, these last represent the cutting edge of renewal and have yielded in the past several years the most courageous and intelligent leadership which we have in the church today. Our living God not only inspires and challenges us to seek faith-ful, even if difficult, answers. God also calls us to responsibility. The third and final theme from our covenant theology that I wish to note, although I have referred to it already, is that there is a promise of a future of peace, based on love and justice; this pledge is faithful and immutable. The German theology of hope of the 1950s and 60s (names like Moltmann, Pannenberg, and Metz come to mind) found its way, with some permutations, into a Latin American theology of liberation closer to our own time. In my recent visit to Peru, I was struck once again how these peo-ple are really hope-filled. It seems to me that the word esperanza appears in practically every hymn and popular song. That hope is not just for a better Peru or even for a mundo mejor, a better world; it is a deeply religious belief in a better life which will never end. The promise to Abram and Sarai that they would be led to "a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1) is at the very heart of the pil-grim spirituality of the people of Israel and is their reason to hope. If God is faithful, so must Yahweh's people be. "Keep all the commandments, then, which I enjoin on you today, that you may be strong enough to enter in and take possession of the land into which you are crossing, and that you may have long life on the land which the Lord swore to your fathers [and mothers] he would give to them and their descendants, a land flowing with milk and honey" (Dt 11:8-9). Psalm 135 exhorts us to keep the faith, to have hope "because the covenant fidelity," the hesed of Yahweh, "endures forever." In a properly understood theology of hope, as in liberation theology, our expectation is neither passive nor blind. The prophets used many words and much energy reminding the peo-ple that they also were responsible for bringing about a better world through their industry and ingenuity. Jesus, too, stresses the personal responsibility of each of his followers to bring about a world in which the hungry are fed, the thirsty are assuaged, and the naked are clothed (see Mt 25). Nearly thirty years have passed since Martin Luther King Jr.'s 812 Reviem for Religious prophetic words resounded from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Reflecting on the covenant promises expressed in the United States Constitution, that prophet reminded the pilgrims who marched on Washington that the reality had not yet come close to the vision set forth in the Constitution. King reminded the world that even the freedom associated with the name Abraham Lincoln was not yet realized for all races. Coming from the shadow of the massive likeness of Lincoln, King's words wafted like a liberating breeze across the mall on that warm August day in 1963. The phrase still echoes in my memory: "Now is the time . . . now is the time." In a properly understood theology of hope, prophetic leaders remind the people of the orig-inal covenant. They do not ignore the chasm that exists between the promise and the reality. They are neither shy in telling the story of the way things could be, nor unrealistic about the way things are. And because they are people of hope, they proclaim confidently and continu-ously, "Now is the time., now is the time." It is my conviction that those of us in roles of religious lead-ership are obligated to reflect upon the instrumental position we play in the realization of the promise. We must, first of all, rec-ognize our own absolute dependence on God, and therefore we must spend significant time in prayer. Without such prayer we take ourselves all too seriously. Prayer becomes especially neces-sary, it would seem, when conflicts and misunderstandings arise within our communities or in the broader sphere of the church, of which we are both members and leaders. At those times par-ticularly, the promise must be our consolation. We are each called upon to bring our talents, our insights, our faith, our ingenuity, and our industry to bear in order to assure that we are faithful to the Gospel of Jesus and the original inspirations of our founders and foundresses. Our continuing call is to discern the signs of our times. While I have emphasized that reverting to the past is not an option for people of the promise, we need to study those aspects of covenant theology which are our greatest challenges today. We must not be blind to the fact that our proven North American We have been called to a community in baptism; we are saved as a community. November-December 1992 813 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faitls individualism creates real problems for the communitarian empha-sis in salvation history. We have been called to a community in baptism; we are saved as a community. Our founders and foundresses called us to community. While we cannot return to a time which canonized uniformity and called it unity, we have a key role to play in our church and in the world; we need to witness to the transcendent value of unity in heart and mind witnessed pub-licly. Our various founders and foundresses had different inten-tions in this area, and so a monolithic understanding of community is inappropriate and indeed impossible. However, when the affinity of our members with one another is so loose that true community is more in the imagination than in reality, we might have missed the mark. I indeed believe that in this area very necessary self-critiques are taking place within our houses. What do we mean by common prayer, common life, and so forth? It is appropriate that the examinations be internal since we seek the original inspirations and intentions of our various founders and foundresses. I am certain that the call to real community is an essential part of the covenant between God and ourselves. I believe that religious are in a privileged position for witnessing to com-munity forthrightly. It is an opportunity we cannot neglect for the sake of a world and a church in which people are crying for meaning, affiliation, and fulfillment. The Scriptures, which we call "sacred," are written expres-sions of an experience of God which is normative for us. The 'faith experience that the Scriptures report is not very different from our own. We are called to journey, to be confident people on pilgrimage. God is both initiator and fulfillment. We are called to faithfulness, exhibited in common lives of joy, love, and hope. "Now is the time., now is the time." In Memoriam David J. Hassel sJ died in Chicago, Illinois, on 26 September 1992. Father Hassel, a well-known author and contributor to this journal, recendy completed his term as a member of our advisory board. Please remember him in your prayers. 814 Review for Religious DONNA MARKHAM Communities of Hope Mtaphor is a window into the heart of human desire nd longing. It reveals the human spirit as it fuses our deepest-he!d beliefs with our lived experience. Metaphor expresses the kernel of What has been forgotten, lost in the whirlwind of our distracted lives. It holds the power to break through all that stands in the way of the proclamation of truth. Metaphor is at the center of the power of the mystic, the therapist, and the artist tO effect profound healing and change at the core of the human spirit. Because it touches the center of truth, a metaphor inter-preted always provokes change. Consequently, metaphors are often very disturbing--both to the speak.er and to the listener. A metaphor disturbs because it cannot be pursued very far without our being led to the very boundaries of what is most "sacred. It cannot be g,rasped at the level of the intellect alone--it is an empathic resonance of the spirit, an expression of what is true. like a parable, metaphor uses ordinary language to exprgss the extraordinary truth of what it.means to be human. Community, as metaphor, expresses the truth of our longing for relationship, the best expression of our humanness. Com-munity enge.nders awe and wonder as it webs together hearts in a world where individualism, separatism, and nationalism collude to keep us isolated and disempowered. Central to the birthing of an alternative world grounded in compassion and justice, com-munity threatens the prevailing culture by drawing near to and Donna Markham OP recently completed her one-year term as the Leadership Conference of Women Religious president. Her address is 8808 Cameron Street; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. This presentation by the LCWR president (see introduction on page 806) was previously published in Origins 22, no. 14 (17 September 1992). November-December" 1992 815 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope conspiring with the transformative power of God. The presence of a community of hope disturbs and disquiets because it disrupts the social drift toward autonomy and self-sufficiency. It disturbs those of us who aspire to live it, and it unsettles the environment in which it is situated. It threatens change on every level and demonstrates that conversion and healing are, indeed, painful processes. Truly, community is a healing metaphor for a frag-mented world. It is not an option. It is an obligation essential for the survival of the planet. It is our obligation as religious women and men who have committed our lives to working for the reign of God in our world. The Prevailing Mood The most profound longings of our contemporary human spirit are variously contained in the language of critics, scholars, theologians, and poets--and those ordinary folks who are capable of verbalizing their inner pain. Repeatedly we find references to persons feeling alone and orphaned, individuals searching for meaning. Not too long ago, a 31-year-old mother of two sat with me in tears as she said, "I don't feel like I belong anywhere or to anyone. I just feel unwanted and not connected to anybody. I keep looking for things to make me feel better, but nothing is working." She went on to tell me how she had bought a high res-olution TV and a new VCR and, most recent!y, had gotten a sta-tionary bike. In spite of her new acquisitions, she continued, "I feel like I'm on the verge of dropping out, giving up. I can't sustain a lasting friendship or belong to a group for any length of time. Noth!ng lasts. The pain is horrible. I am trapped, cold and alone. I can't get out. Nothing makes sense anymore." Her expression is that of a prisoner in self-enforced solitary confinement. "I am trapped, cold and alone. I can't get out"--the deepest truth of her experience expressed in analytic metaphor. In the act of expressing her truth and in the response of someone interpreting her excruciating pain of helplessness and isolation, she begins her journey toward freedom. Similar experiences of disengaged subjectivity and alienation have often resulted in an escalation of materialism and con-sumerism-- a desperate effort to capture some solace and com-fort. In a rather disturbing commentary on contemporary experience, Robert Bellah notes that one of the most prized and 816 Review for Religious inexpendable commodities which we Americans possess is a microwave oven--the antithesis of the sacrament of the family meal (The Good Society, 93). A family's shared preparation of, par-ticipation in, and cleaning up after Sunday dinner all-too-fre-quently is replaced by each member "zapping" his or her own favorite microwave-ready food and rushing off to the next sched-uled event. Daily news commentaries unveil progressive fragmentation and self-serving separatism. Separatism, often disguised and jus-tified as American "pluralism," promotes scandalous division and destruction in every corner of our lived experience. Recently we have had our own experience with this type of heretical rational-ization and have experienced its painful effects. In an attempt to recover from the stunning and disheartening consequences of enforced and formalized division, we face with greater determi-nation our commitment to call for union and collaboration among those who are committed to justice, peace, and the common good. We know well from our own experience that the obsessive pursuit of private agendas, often driven by politics, has resulted in personal, ecclesial, and national crises of meaning and belong-ing. Repeatedly our poets, spiritual writers, ecolog.ists, sociolo-gists, and even business analysts reflect to us the dangers and numbing effects of individualism, separatism, and the disregard for unity and the good in common. Communities of Hope Entwined in these commentaries of our day is the longing for connection, meaning, and belonging. Community is the delib-erate human expression of such profound yearning for intimacy and purpose. I am convinced it is our final hope for establishing reconciling communication in a pained world. And it is our hope for the future of a religious life that finds itself immersed in an era roiled by exclusion, competition, and confrontation. Communities of hope become the bridges between islands of the spirit where compassion, friendship, and commitment to the mission of the Gospel still flourish. Vibrant communities of hope hold the power to proclaim the truth that we are profoundly interconnected with God and with ill creation. We are part of a living system which is our home. Communities of hope witness to our being embedded in the whole Noveraber-December 1992 817 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope of God's creation and, as living parts of this system, they are agents for the conversion of all those who promote fierce com-mitment to their own separate survival. What are the demands and conseq.uences of living at the heart of the metaphor? What does it mean for us, women and men reli-gious at a very precarious moment in history, to commit and entrhst 6urselves to ultimate belonging--to the creation of com-munities of hope which attest to the truthfulness of God's rela-tionship with us and with our world? This question is currently a. focus for many provincial and general chapters. It is a question which we are addressing with a degree of candor and self-critique that attests the maturity of American religious life. And it is a ~luestion we are answering by calling ourselves to no less than the profound communal transformation of con.temporary religious life. We know well that norms and lifestyles which were sufficient and effective yes.terday are painfully inadequate' to address the crises o.f today. Yet, in spite of uncertainty and the lack of clear direction, and often in the midst of misunderstanding and criticism from those upon whom we have counted, we entrust Ourselves to our faithful God and move on. We are taking the charism of religious life extremely seri-ously. We ar~ risking new ways of being communities of celebra-tion that radiate coherence and hope into society. More and more we are immersing ourselves among the marginated and most vul-nerable. In the blighted core of an inner city, a group of religious engaged in various ministries opens its home to neighbors--a place for prayer, respi.te, and hospitality--a contradiction in an environment charged with violence and suspicion. In a border town young adults and religious ~'espond to the needs of Central American refugees by establishing a center 'for illegal aliens. Theological reflection, common prayer, radical simplicity, and advocacy form the nonnegotiable basis of their communal life. Surrounded by affluent retirement communitieF, a growing enclave of destitute migrant workers is attended by wonderfully altruistic college students, religious brothers, and some commit-ted. couples who live among, pray with, and work on behalf of this neighborhood of preyiously ignored people. Such communities of hope are growing in strength and num-bers across the country. Increasingly we are embedding ourselves in uncomfortable places where we are bound to challenge the dominant norms of our church and our society. Counting on the 818 Review for Religious binding friendship of God, we are often venturing into places where many--and, indeed, where we--may not wish to go. Nevertheless, with all the metaphoric power of being part of a greater whole--a part which contains and is contained by every other part--we are conspiring in and committed to the healing and unify-ing transformation of the earth. While we have reason to be encouraged, we realize we have much to which to call ourselves and our congregations. Such a growing commitment to be communities of hope is inspired by the covenanted intentionality of God. We become more closely bound to God as we bind ourselves increasingly to God's will for mercy, justice, and peace. This binding intimacy--and the continued conversion to which it calls us--destabilizes the status quo and, consequently, is perceived as subver-sive by those who feel more at home in an environment of sepa-ratism and elitism. Such people fiercely resist the "subversion" they do not want to see. Increasingly we are embedding ourselves in uncomfortable places where we are bound to challenge the dominant norms of our church and our society. The Cost of Commitment Clearly, there are obligations which follow from taking responsibility to live at the core of metaphor. To begin with, com-munities of hope relinquish the security of the rigid constructs and protective routines that once defined community life. They are resilient and responsive to the ebb and flow of the needs of those among whom they li',;e, all the while claiming contemplative space, some time set apart. Participation in these transformative communities calls us to let go of our own accommodation to per-sonal comfort and possessions, to lay aside rugged autonomy and private agendas, in order to respond together to those needs which are most urgent. Those who live in the metaphor strive to rep-resent that which is most true. For many of us, that calls us away from what has been more comfortable. Communities of hope call us to be marginated anawim while, at the same time, being surrounded by the dominant culture. That November-December 1992 819 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope is, we are called to make a home with the dispossessed and vul-nerable in the midst of a culture that rejects them. We commit ourselves to live in the midst of prevalent social norms while maintaining a distinct identity as outsiders who refuse to be domesticated. We commit ourselves to responsible criticism of the prevailing culture, to search for and proclaim the truth of what we see and experience. We do this through the rigorous practice of a shared faith, through nondefensive and honest inter-action with those who oppose us, and through an uncompromis-ing commitment to contemplation, common prayer, and, most importantly, a reconciling compassion. Further, communities of hope hold the capacity to grieve together as they remember what has been forgotten and feel the shared pain of being outsiders. The catharsis of grieving yields to the.celebration of a faithful God who is friend and companion, who has called us together to be an organic conspiracy for the healing of our world. The inability of persons to feel and admit sadness marks a dulling adaptation to the existing state of affairs. One of the more disturbing symptoms an individual or a group can exhibit is the absence of the human emotion of sadness. Those who are unable to grieve have closed themselves to the transfor-mative power of empathic love and compassion. They have sealed themselves in smug detachment. As members of transformative communities, we must have the hope and the stamina to sustain rejection, misunderstanding, and unfair judgment--even ridicule--from the dominant major-ity. Walter Brueggemann addresses this in his Interpretation and Obedience, saying that exiles "must hold and practice faith in an empire that is deeply hostile., to our most precious social vision" (206). He continues, "The empire has a plan for the exiles: that they should be forever displaced, homeless, at risk, restless, admin-istrated (223). The empire will never understand. In the end, however, it will yield" (232). Staying Faithful Communities of hope are consistently faced with the risk of becoming sidetracked from their dynamic function of bringing forth a new way of life based on collaboration, mutuality, and respect. The dominant system will try to entice us to set aside our own agenda and replace it with its own. It will consistently and 820 Review for Religious untiringly try to seduce us into spending time and energy in reac-tion to it rather than in being about the threatening task of pro-claiming truth, justice, and compassion. It may even attempt to entrap us, freeze us out, and isolate us in the hope that we will feel just as imprisoned as that 31-year-old mother. But as long as com-munities remain faithful expressions of the human desire for heal-ing, for solidarity with the suffering and the vulnerable, and for communion with God and with creation, we will continue to agi-tate and disturb the pervasive system--and we will continue to promote its healing. The prevailing culture will attempt to undermine communi-ties of hope by coopting individual members to submit t6 a more comfortable existence, removed from the stringent demands .of proclaiming what is true and just. The dominant system cleverly realizes that solitary persons will not survive long as outsiders in its midst. They are ripe to be picked off and assimilated, thereby losing their power to convert and transform. Nowhere is the evil of the dominant system more apparent than when it works to devalue and fragment those who are bound together to work for the common good. The more hostile, intransigent, and wily the environment, the greater the need for the community to gather hope, strengthen desire, and realize vision. Leading at the Heart of Truth Good leaders have the courage to interpret the metaphor. They know that meaning is wrapped in the heart of metaphor. Leaders risk telling the truth. They realize that, left uninter-preted, the metaphor is bereft of the fullness of its power to bring about change. But the metaphor can be interpreted only from a posture of deep love. If there is any element of judgment or reprisal, the interpretation will be rejected. To prepare ourselves for the act of interpretation, we know that we must love with a passion that transforms our whole being, that is rooted in and nourished by contemplative relationship with God. We pray for a love that is so transparent and pervasive that it gives us the greatness to accept our own failings and those of our sisters and brothers, the courage to proclaim the vision of an alternative world ruled by the good in common, and the wisdom to challenge any acquiescence to the status quo. This is the foun-dation of interpretation. November-December 1992 821 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope What might interpretation entail for leaders today? It would entail: ¯ recalling the memory, the charism, and the values of the covenant; ¯ acknowledging, supporting, and celebrating deepening com-munities of hope; ¯ sharing the sorrow of the community of outsiders as they struggle to maintain integrity and unity in the face of misunder-standing, stereotyping, or ridicule; ¯ challenging those who are being tempted toward assimila-tion by the prevailing norms of individualism and materialism; ¯ asking difficult questions when the obliteration of bound-aries begins to diminish the identity of the community and moves it to compromise its prophetic purpose. It is in the honesty of the interpretive act that truth is revealed and continued conversion is realized. We who take on the respon-sibility to interpret must know that we will be called to profound experiences of inner conversion that happen only when we love the community so very deeply. In this act of interpretation, we are led with our communities to the edge of what is, simultane-ously, overwhelming and most sacred. A~ we continue to promote the coming of the reign of God in this new day, we bind ourselves in communion, united in a vision of religious life that is unafraid to live truthfully in the criticism of a dominant system, and we pray in the words of the prophet that we will continue to seek God with all our heart, with a sin-gle loyalty, with a centered hope (see Jr 29:13). 822 Review for Religious PATRICIA MCNICHOLAS The Service of Lay Associates Ordinary people can do extraordinary things. Many lay people fee! called to service of the poor and needy, but c~anfiot always find appropriate or worthwhile ways to respond to thi~ call. M.any communities of women religious have the per-so. nnel, the financial resources, and the contacts that enable var-ious forms of ministry to the poor and the disenfranchised to 6perate~ successfully. These programs are now being shared with lay people who desire to work with religious .communities in coop-erative ministry projects. Are thes~ programs, which involve the !aity in a religious co.mmunity's outreach efforts, one mor6 aspect of the movement toward formal lay association with religious communities? This aru,'cle attempts to place such efforts within the broad conte~ of the associate movement as it has developed in the United States. In the last twenty years, religious communities have set up various relational structures with groups of lay persons. T,hese are usually Enown as associate members or co-members. The groups are of special interest because, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere, they have increased in numbers at a tremendous rate. Today more than 60 percent of women's communities have an associate program and another 19 percent indicate that they are developing or are interested in developing a program? The phe-nomenon continues in spite of the lack of any clear-cut struc-tures, national organization, or official impetus. In some religious communities these groups embody their hopes for the future of religious life; for others they are a threat to that v~ry same future. Patricia McNicholas osu is completing her work on a doctorate in ministry. She c~n be addressed at 4250 Shields Road; Canfield, Ohio 44406. November-December 1992 823 McNicbolas ¯ The Service of Lay Associates Rosemary Jeffries asserts: "There is a plurality of religious life modes operative at ~he current time but none seems totally ade-quate in itself. New and emerging forms of membership suggest that one model might not be sufficient. Clearly the traditional model cannot accommodate alternative forms of membership.''2 The persons who participate in associated groups typically resemble the community of which they are a part. For example, the vast majority are older, white, middle-class, educated women-- the same description that would hold for most religious commu-nities of women. In the pastr membership in religious communities was lim-ited to vowed members only. No longer is this the case. Recent research shows that associate groups participate at different lev-els within community life and that the various programs tend to follow discernible patterns in their development and in their rela-tionship to specific religious communities. Jeffries describes five trends that are generally found in such programs: 1. The associate membership programs tend to attract persons very similar to the religious themselves. 2. Decisions and responsibility for the programs are mainly in the hands of the religious. 3. The activities of associate programs are limited, and communication with associates is generally sparse. 4. Most religious and associates currently involved in the associate programs are ambiguous about the purpose and future direction of these programs. 5. Associates are more positive about the programs than are the religious.3 In May 1989, more than 100 directors of such programs and associate members gathered at Bon Secours Spiritual center in Marriottsville, Maryland, for the first national gathering to discuss the movement. The purpose of the gathering was described as exploring "how spiritualities or charisms of the church, previ-ously identified with particular religious congregations, were being assimilated by groups of lay people who claim the identity, history, and traditions of a particular spirituality as their own.''4 Although the groups differed in the frequency with which they gathered, in the typg of commitment required, and in the kind of formation provided by the rel!gious community, what they seemed to have in common was the forming of bonds between the laypersons and the religious on the basis of the charism and 824 Review for Religious mission of the community. The persons at this assembly also emphasized the importance of spiritual growth and of the expe-rience of community. In some religious communities, associate groups have become so integrated within the community itself that they may now be considered co-members of the institute. Rose Marie Jasinski CBS and Peter Foley describe what they identify as four "generations" of associates. The first-generation associate was a person look-ing to the religious for spiritual growth. It was assumed that the religious took the leadership in the movement. In the second gen-eration, there was a growing sense that the laypersons and the religious journeyed together on this spiritual path. In the third generation, the associates were invited to participate in the com-munity life of the congregation. In the fourth and current gen-eration, associates actively participate in the mission of the congregation and may be considered co-members.5 Should all associate groups move toward the vision suggested byJasinski's schema? Conleth Overrfian seems to believe so. He thinks associate groups will be the very stimulus needed to create a future for religious institutes that are currently losing mem-bership. He calls on reiigious communities to extend member-ship to the laity. He says, "The future of religious life lies, not in some foi'm of 'non-canonical' organization, but in a vital amal-gamation of the fully vowed religious membership and an associ-ation of l~y people who would in actual fact be members of the religious institute.''6 He envisions a group of dedicated prayerful people who share the spirit of the institute and collaborate with vowed members in fulfilling the community's mission in the church.7 Out of this experience Overman sees religious institutes revitalized with a torrent of new life. This vision of religious life extends the meaning of what it means to be a religious, just as in earlier centuries the concept of being a religious was expanded from the notions of enclosed cloister to apostolic religious com-munities. Paula Gonzales SC also envisions co-membership as important for the renewal of religious communities. She main-tains that the emergence of associate/co-membership is the begin-ning i~f a marked transformation in the very identity and understanding of religious life.8 In March 1990, Region VI of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious met in Cincinnati to discuss the movement. In preparation for the meeting, the members completed a mail sur- November-December 1992 825 McNicbolas ¯ The Sei'vice of Lay Associates vey about their experiences regarding the associate movement. Doris Gott~moeller reported the results of the siar~ey and then summarized her finding in an article in Review for R~ligi~)us.9 Many questions about the movemen~ emerged. The most basic one concerned the very nature of associate groups. Are they really iaew forms of membership !n [he congregation,, or are they essentially noncanon, ic.al, lay associations connected to various religious institutes? Jeffries maintain~ that [h~ emergence of the associate movement and 6ther altei'- native forms of membership re,deals the need to reconcep-tualize religious life as a plurif6rm mod~l inclusi;ce of different ways of belonging rather than ~is one model . Possibly the more pluriform reality of contemporary reli-gious life provides an appropriate atmosphere for the growth of nonclinical forms of association.~° If these new organizations do represent a visionary refound-ing of th~ institutes and a new form of membership within the institute, what effect will such programs have on the existing corl-gregation and on its sense of ideritity? What rights do the asso-ciates have? Should associates be invited to participate in congregational events such as chapters, assemblies, and celebra-tions? Gottemoeller is clear about the need to clarify and answer these questions. Elizabeth McDonough criticizes.the popular belief that ~associates should be given rights to participate in inter-nal commuriity matters. She says: Perhaps religious ~vary of this ti'end instinctively sense the accuracy of the . . . analysis by sociologist Wittberg, who notes that the associate/co-membership t~'end is far from a contemporary i'efounding. It is me~ely t'i!pical behavior for ¯ . . groups that have no central communitai'ian identity by wbicb, they can attract others or into which they can incor-porate newcomers or from which they c~n claim the ongo-ing allegiance of or make significant demands on--those who belong.~ Her view would seem to suggest that the question is no~ just one concerning levelsof membership, but one concerning the ver~ identity of the institute itself. If associates are seen as mem-bers, then is the institute graying the boundaries that create its i.dentity and in that very process conti'ibuting to its own demise? In a re(ent issue of Human Developm6nt, Donfia Markham also raises the question of boundaries. She sa~,s that l~aders of reli- 826 Review for Religious gious institutes in this time of tremendous change need to "call the group to hope and to a bold vision for the future. They push at the boundaries of how the group has defined itself.''~2 Later in the same article, though, she notes that it can be a form of denial for a community to "make its boundaries so permeable that they no longer truly exist.''~3 Thus the nature and identity of these associational groups is the most significant one to be answered by any congregation as they form and develop associate programs. Experts in canon law also have serious questions about the move toward membership rights for associates. In a bulletin pub-lished by the Canon Law Society of America, David Hynous OP states: It is not appropriate to use the terminology of membership to designate those women and men collaborating with us in our ministries. It may very well be inspired by the sincere hope of stimulating our lay colleagues to give serious con-sideration to a lifetime commitment in religious life. But, insofar as we are discussing lay participation in the apos-tolic endeavors of religious institutes, it is misleading to use the terminology of membership,t4 He raises concerns when associates are invited to live and work with religious. These include questions regarding appropriate formation, issues surrounding celibacy, and financial concerns including hospitalization and retirement. These are serious issues around the question of membership. Gottemoeller, in her reflections, also raises the question of what kind of formation should be provided.'5 She asks, too, whether the program is intended to support the congregational members or whether it is outwardly focused, that is, intended to promote the mission of the church. She challenges the view that associate membership will be a way to ensure the continuity of congregation-sponsored ministries. Most associates seem more concerned about their personal relationship with the congrega-tion than with the future of the congregation's institutions. She states, "My impression is that very few associates are in positions of responsibility in congregational ministries, with the talent and energy to direct the ministries in the future.''~6 In addition, Jeffries notes that most associates reflect the aging patterns of their respective communities.'7 Gottemoeller concludes by not-ing that, given the nature and number of the questions about the associate relationship identified here, any conclusions about November-December 1992 827 McNicbolas ¯ The Service of Lay Associates its long-term contribution to religious life are decidedly premature. Perhaps the best stance to take is to be cautious about either overstating the potential of associate programs to redefine religious life or underestimating the power of the Spirit to use this vehicle to revitalize an age-old phe-nomenon within the church.~8 In spite of the questions raised concerning the nature of such groups, many communities are continuing to sponsor or plan for these types of associate groups within their community structure. These associate membership groups will continue to provide one way for lay people to fulfill their baptismal call to contribute to the mission of the church, namely, through cooperation with the efforts of a specific religious community. At the same time, those who participate will enable the community to expand its own con-cept of what it means to be a "member" of that specific commu-nity. The participants in associate programs will come to some understanding of the community's history and charism and will participate in the mission of the community. There is a need for continued research on this relatively new phenomenon within religious life. In the meantime many layper-sons are finding fulfillment in a variety of ministerial experiences related to the charisms and works of specific communities. If the results of the trend are positive for the religious communities that sponsor such associations, for the lay people who participate in them, and for the poor and the needy who benefit from them, this trend may well be with us for a very long time to come. Notes ~ Rosemary Jeffries RSM, "Results of the Survey on Associate Membership in Religious Life," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 16 (winter 1991): 65. 2 Ibid, p. 63. 3 Ibid, p. 74. 4 Rose Marie Jasinski CBS and Peter Foley, "Reflections on the Associate Movement in Religious Life," Occasional Papers, a publication of The Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 16 (October 1989): 7. s Ibid, p. 8. 6 Conleth Overman CP, "The Need for Religious Institutes to Develop a Strong Outreach of Lay Associates," Sisters Today 57 (February 1986): 345. 7 Ibid, p. 347. s Paula Gonz~ilez SC suggested this in an address at the First National 828 Review f~r Religious. Conferences of Associate/Co-Membership, as quoted in Karen Schwarz, "Alternative Membership in Religious Congregations," Review for Religious 50 (July/August 1991): 559. 9 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "Looking at Associate Membership Today," Review for Religious 50 (May/June 1991): 391-393. 10 Jeffries, p. 64. 1~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" Review for Religious 50 (January-February 1992): 93. The reference to Wittberg is from Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), esp. chapters 2, 3, and 4. ~2 Donna J. Markham OP, "Making Friends with the Dragon: Women's Leadership in a Time of Transformation," Human Development 12 (sum-mer 1991): 29. 13 Ibid, p. 32. ,4 David M. Hynous OP, "Associate Membership in Religious Institutes," Bulletin on Issues of Religious Law 6 (Silver Spring, Maryland: Canon Law Society of America et al., 1990): 6. is Gottemoeller, p. 393. ~6 Ibid, p. 396. 17 Jeffries, p. 65. ,8 Gottemoeller, p. 397. Signs The straws in the wind at the door of a cave were signs, of a sort, of the brush of the Spirit-- but who caught the hint the Messiah would have a crib of rough chaff in that draft, or so near it? P.C. Ghotiolo SJ November-December 1992 829 DIANA TAUFER Inculturation as Dialogue dialogue ministry During a 1991 conference, Basic Directions in Native American Ministry, Sister Genevieve Cuny asked the Pueblo Indians present, "What gifts can the church share with you?" Again and again individuals answered for their groups, "Respect." This response indicates how church ministers can make the quincentennial years of Columbus's voyages years of reparation. It is the way of inculturation, of ongoing dialogue between faith and culture, because true dialogue fosters respect in and for all participants. But too often inculturation is a monologue by the church. The word lends itself to this misinterpretation. A better word would be "interculturation," which emphasizes that real ongoing dialogue clarifies the truth in both faith and cul-ture and thus leads to the mutual transformation of both. And dialogue requires a pervading presence of church min-isters among the people. Christ's message contains, at least implicidy, the whole truth for our living as God's people. The church, how-ever, has in its humanness proclaimed it imperfecdy, espe-cially by giving it overtones of Euro-American culture. The Native American and other cultures can offer insights which point out foreign and neglected elements in church teaching. Interculturation is also a matter of justice. An old def- Diana Taufer SC drew upon her work as a docent at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center for her reflections in this article. Her address is 1014 South George Drive; Tempe, Arizona 85218. 830 Review for Religious inition of justice is "giving each one his or her due." Christ's mes-sage is due to ~ill people in all its purity with respect for them as persons and with respect for the truth that is in them. Church history is full of examples of how missionaries of old, influenced by the limitations of the times, failed to dialogue because they did not r~spect the culture and were not really present among thd people. The quincentennial presents an opportunity for church min-isters, ordained and nonordained, to learn from the way inter-culturation did or did not happen in the past when Catholic missionaries worked fimong Native Americans. A good starting point is With the Pueblo Indians of the Southwest, 90 percent of whom are baptized Catholics. While practicing also their native religion, they have maintained their language and cul-ture better than any other group of Native Americans. As early as 1528, Spanish explorers, accompanied by Franciscan missionaries, began to make inroads into Pueblo territ6ry. The first permanent settlement in New Mexico was made in 1598, nine years befoi'e the establishment of the colony at Jamestown. The Franciscans were men of their times, and the times were the years after the Protestant Reformation and the Council of Trent when the fear of heresy permei~ted the church. A~ a result, close relationships between the friars and the Indians Were discouraged by their superiors, and the friars were advised not to learn the native language. It became Franciscan policy to shift the priests frequently from one mission to another and to send them back at times to Mexico. The' priests emphasized the differences between the indigenous religion and the Catholic faith rather than the similarities, contrary to the practice of many earlier priests in Mexico. Coercion became the order of the day. The policy for con-version, as framed by the king of Spain and announced by the friars, stated that, if the natives accepted the Catholic faith once it was explained to them, great rewards would follow. If they did not, all of them would be enslaved, which consequence would be their own fault. Those Indians who did not cooperate sufficiently. An old definition of justice is "giving each one his or her due." November-Decen~ber 1992 831 Taufer ¯ Inculturation in their own "conversion" were whipped, humiliated, and other-wise punished. When the Indians later resisted the destruction of their nativ~ religious paraphernalia, some multioffenders were hanged. Joe Savilla, who with his wife, Peggy, heads the ministry to Native Amei-icans in the Archdiocese of Santa Fe, has begun to call these latter Indians martyrs. Coercion also invaded the Indian workday. The massive churches--sandstone set in adobe mud, with huge roof beams brought from mountains many miles away--were constructed with conscripted labor from the pueblos. To make matters even more unpalatable, men were often required tO do what they con-sidered women's work, for instance, plastering walls. In addition, the Pueblo Indians were expected to support the missions with food and other necessities. The NIexican government's economic system added to these burdens by awarding to local Spaniards tribute exacted from the native peoples in the form of labor, corn, blankets, hides, and so forth. By J680 the Spanish colonials and missionaries had so alien-ated the native peoples that they revolted. When the friars refused to leave, twenty-three out of thirty-one of them were killed along with about three hundred colonists; the remainder were driven out'of the area. Father Ed Savilla, a Pueblo Indian and pastor at Tats Pueblo, calls the 1680 revolt a spiritual power struggle between the Indian spiritual leaders and the missionaries. After the Spanish returned and regained control (1692-1698), coercion eased. Nevertheless, about 1773 Father Joaqu~n de Jestis noted: The petty governor and the lieutenant have their places at the door so that people may not leave during the hour of prayer and Mass. When all are in their places,., the father takes atten-dance to see whether everyone is there . If anyone is missing, the petty governor goes to fetch him. If he is not in the pueblo., he is punished on the following Sunday. The pueblos responded to these policies by taking their native practices underground, literally in some cases because kivas were at least in part below the ground. Anthropologists like Edmund Spicer describe their present pattern of belief as compartmental-ization, the practice of two religions kept separate. Ed Savilla thinks a better term to desEribe the relationship between their two beliefs is "parallel." A Pueblo woman told me that she wor-ships the one God in two ways, but she values the Eucharist above 832 Review for Religious all else. A Taos man, who spoke at the 1992 conference on Indian spirituality in Santa Fe, described his native and Catholic beliefs as interwoven. When I questioned him further, he answered that this description, he felt, fitted the majority of his people. Joe Sando, who was raised in Jemez Pueblo and still main-tains ties with the village, summarizes the beliefs of his people in his latest book, Pueblo Nations: Eight Centuries of Pueblo Indian History (1992): Elements of Catholic ritual that have been accepted are: worship on Sundays and receiving the various sacraments, confirmation, baptism, weddings, and the native social dances of the saints' days, Christmas, and Easter. These rit-uals are now accepted as traditional Pueblo social and cul-tural patterns. When I questioned him in an interview concerning what Catholic teachings Pueblos might disagree with, he said he knew of none. Presumably he is acquainted with at least the basic Catholic doctrines since he is a graduate of the Jemez mission school. Is the Pueblo culture in any way transforming the Catholic Church in New Mexico? If the interiors of the churches are any evidence, the answer is "a little." The old church at Zuni is being decorated with life-size representations of Zuni ceremonial figures. A church or two have been painted with Indian designs and have bowls of corn meal at the feet of statues. The interiors of most of them are old European in style. If the liturgies are any evidence of Pueblo cultural influence on the church, the answer is "very little" except on major feast days. Then the statues are carried in wocession after Mass to a shrine in one of the plazas, and the dancing begins. The Mass itself, homily and all, does not incorporate Indian elements, even when the readings could be linked to Indian spirituality. On the other hand, Sister Ann Rosalia Sazbo and the Tewa choir at San Juan Pueblo have translated sung parts of the Mass into Tewa and set the words to music. The factor that seems to make the biggest difference in the amount of interculturation that has occurred is the residency or nonresidence of a priest in the pueblo. These pieces of evidence are externals only, but if they are so slight, it is unlikely that much interculturation is taking place on a deeper level. The whole church would be much richer if authentic interculturation did occur. Even a little understanding November-December 1992 833 Taufer ¯ Inculturation of the Indian belief in the interdependence of all creatures would make a big difference in the American way of living. The Pueblo Indian believes that, if you intend to kill an animal, you have to let it know why and ask for understanding. An unusual instance of this realization was thd 1980 grasshopper invasion of the Rio Grande Valley. The elders advised their people: "Talk to them, tell them to have mercy. Tell them to eat, but to remember that we have children to feed too. Ask them to go on to another place and do not make war on them." Many Pueblos used the wooden plow long after the iron plow was introduced by the Spaniards. The wooden plow was gentler to Mother Earth because it did not scar so deeply. Ironically, a headline in the 29 June 1992 i~sue of Time states: "The plow is being displaced by new technique that protects the land." Another headline reads: "By the year 2000 no-till farming will be used in 80 percent of the cropland. It will be the greatest change in agri-culture in 100.years." The Pueblo Indians strive also for harmony among them-selves. They regard a schism in the village as the worst of evil. They believe that striving for wealth, social prestige, or personal power can weaken the harmony in the village. Often persons will refuse an office until they can no longer hold out against those urging acceptance. Traditionally, personal excellence is not regarded as success. When Maria Martfnez rediscovered the lost secret of black pottery for which she became world famous, she shared it with others without asking for any compensation. One's place depends upon fulfilling communal obligations. Surely the rest of us can learn from such attitudes even if we prefer not to imitate them in detail. There is no part of their culture that I have experienced more than their practice of sharing. The Bureau of Indian Affairs tried to stamp out their practice of it because the authorities regarded it as improvident. Nevertheless, the "throw" persists to this day. I was invited to be present for one at Laguna when the family was celebrating the name days of several members. Several persons stood on the rooftop and threw food and household items to a cr6wd of two hundred or more gathered below. Another sharing custom occurs on important feast days: families invite friends and strangers into their homes for a meal as a special prayer offering in honor of the day. This custom was explained to me by a young man when he realized that it was my first time to have been 834 Revieiv for Religious extended an invitation. Later I was glad that I did not linger too long, when I learned that courtesy requires that you leave so as to make room for others to be seated. On Christmas Day a Pueblo man at the rear door of Santo Domingo Church was giving each visitor a loaf of oven bread. When I asked if I could give something in return, he suggested a donation to the church. The visitor register showed that people from all over--Canada, Mexico, the Netherlands, Switzerland, New Zealand, Morocco, and so forth--had experienced that day the Indian gift of sharing. Later that year a woman I had just met invited me to visit her home in Santa Clara Pueblo. As I was leaving, she gave me a black-on-black pot that she had made. Greatest, however, of all their gifts is the example of a life permeated by religious beliefs. At Jemez State Monument a plaque reads: "We have no word for 'religion.' We have a spiritual life that is part of us 24 hours a day; it deter-mines our relation with the natural world and our fellow man." The Pueblo Indians engaged in many struggles with the American government because of their determination to main-tain traditions essential to the practice of their beliefs. In 1924 Charles Burke, commissioner of Indian Affairs, ordered the erad-ication of some observances which he regarded as sadistic and obscene. In response the council of all the New Mexico Pueblos issued a formal declaration: "Our religion to us is sacred and is more important than anything else in life . There is no future for the race of Indians if its religion is killed." When the American government wanted to incorporate into public lands the sacred Blue Lake of Taos, the elders refused to accept all arrangements, including those reimbursing them for lost lands, until in 1971 Blue Lake was returned to them. What Joseph E. Brown says of the Native American in gen-eral can be applied to the Pueblo Indian in particular: 'We have no word for "religion." We have a spiritual life that is part of us 24 hours a day.' With the American Indian we are dealing ultimately with a quality of culture wherein action and contemplation are interrelated and integrated . It may be said that special rituals and ceremonials, as well as the routine of daily life, Novevnber-Deceraber 1992 835 Taufer ¯ Inculturation constitute meditative acts that open to the exceptional per-son at least possibilities of pure contemplation. The dance, as a form of worship, is as ancient as their legends and has roots deeply embedded in their traditions, stories, poetry, and whole way of life. Students of their way of life have been much impressed by the depth to which the dance has entered into their spirituality. The Pueblos dance for all the important com-munal needs and occasions of the year: spring planting, harvest-ing, feasts of the Catholic Church year, installation of their officials, hunting, and so forth. The very young and the very old participate by the hundreds in the most common of the dances, the Corn Dance. In times past the men in a pueblo spent a major portion of their lives in native religious duties. Such is not the case today because of changes in pueblo economy and ways of earning a liv-ing. It is virtually impossible today for a non-Pueblo person to examine their religious life closely enough to verify statements such as these. Pueblo secrecy concerning their indigenous reli-gious practices stems from two principal sources. There is a deep-rooted belief among them that "power talked about is power lost." Some of them tell how informants died soon after they had given away their power by divulging secrets to anthropologists. Secondly, resentment persists at the conduct of the church, the government, and anthropologists. Church and government tried to eradicate many Pueblo practices while anthropologists enhanced their professional reputations and finances by writing about guarded details of Pueblo life. Pueblo Nations states: "The traditional Pueblo framework still remains. However, judging from this writer's traditional upbringing, it is rapidly disintegrat-ing in the face of a new order and a new lifestyle." At the 1991 conference on Indian spirituality, a young Pueblo man suggested very tentatively that perhaps the Pueblos should open secret ceremonies to priests and sisters so that they might better understand the Pueblo people. An elderly woman, a devout Catholic, emphatically rejected this suggestion because the Pueblos would then have nothing that was just their own. At the 1992 conference Sister Jose Hobday, mindful of their reticence, urged them gently to share their gifts. Father Matthew Fox, among others, has indicated the type of dialogue, the type of interculturation, that could tak.e place between Indian cultures and the Catholic faith. Pueblo people 836 Review for Religious have told me, "He talks like an Indian." Fox advocates "panen-theism," which emphasizes that "God is in everything and every-thing is in God." He condemns the dualistic mentality that sets up a subject-object mentality leading to manipulation of other crea-tures, puts one's feelings against one's thoughts, and divides a per-son into body and soul. He prefers an approach to the universe based on the cycles of nature rather than on a "mythical state of perfection in the past." For dialogue to be truly intercul-turation, the Catho-lic Church needs to examine a number of important teach-ings in the light of Native American experience, espe-cially the role of Jesus and the mission of the church. Carl Starkloff expressed the need well: Christian Indians "seek. a deeper penetration of Christianity into areas where, because of the missionaries' lack of imagination or knowledge, the church has never gone." Jesus needs to be shown free of the overtones of Western cul-ture. That necessity has long been recognized, but much more needs to be done about it. In addition, among the Pueblo Indians, and probably others, the role of Jesus as savior meets obstacles. The traditional Pueblo view regards the hereafter as similar to life on earth and as generally independent of the good or evil a person has done in the here and now. This view seems to leave lit-tle room for repentance and reconciliation with a God who willed Christ's sacrifice on the cross. The traditional Indian sees evil as excess and imbalance for which each person answers to the com-munity. The Pueblos find it difficult to understand how the death of one person centuries ago could affect their chief obligations designed to bring food, well-being, harmony, and protection to the village. The church's mission to teach all nations puzzles many Native Americans. They believe that the Great Spirit has entrusted to For dialogue to be truly interculturation, the Catholic Church needs to examine a number of important teachings in the light of Native American experience, especially the role of Jesus and the mission of the church. Novonber-December 1992 837 Taufer ¯ Inculturation them beliefs that they are to adhere to and guard. He has done the same, they say, for other peoples because he understands their needs and environment, and so there is no point to or need for conversion. Interculturation is an ongoing process, and the quincentennial could stimulate a real dialogue between Native American culture and the Catholic faith, leading to a mutual transformation through clarifying the truth in each. It could also serve the cause of justice by giving both groups their due: respect for the persons involved and for the truth that is in them. As Max Warren has said, "Our first task in approaching another people, another culture, another religion, is to take off our shoes, for the place is holy; else . . . we may forget that God was there before our arrival." Dialogue obviously requires not only that we approach and arrive, but also that we be truly present among the people. I hear again and again from Native Americans--from Hispanics too-- that church ministers are not present among them, that we remain closed away in our convents, rectories, and offices. They regard our absence as a sign of an aloof and superior attitude. Respect for and presence among persons of another culture is essential to interculturation, whether that culture is different from our own because of race, nationality, economic level, religion, sex, or age. Bibliography Brown, Joseph Epes. The Spiritual Legacy of the American Indian. New York: Crossroad, 1982. Department of Education, U.S. Catholic Conference. Faith and Culture. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1987. Starkloff, Carl T. The People of the Center: American Indian Religion and Christianity. New York: Paulist Press, 1974. 838 Review for Religious ALAN ALTANY Jewish-Catholic Dialogue since Vatican II Tmhe Second Vatican Council of the Roman Catholic Church arks for many people 'the .beginning of a significan~ change in the church's relati6ns with Jud.aism, a change away from excltisiveness and triumphalism to a more dialogic and apprecia-tive attitude towards Judaism as a living.and holy religious tradi-tion. From the Jewish point of view, this development has b~en seen as a beginning, but certainly not a completed process. It is the intention here not to discuss this ongoing dialogue chronologically up to the present, but to examine the nature of it, even the the-ology of it at times. It is important to emphasize how both Jews and Catholics approach the dialogue, bringing to it their own positions, and what dynamics the continuation of the dialogue will involve. From the historical record it is apparent that the Jewish peo-ple have been the victims of two millennia of persecution, oppres-sion, and capitai crime at the hands of Christians. The Jewish people know this s.tory and its trail'of wounds, but Catholics have too often ignored it; "ignorance of and negative attitudes toward the Jews permeate each on~ of us."~ As the Jewish writer Henry Siegmah has said, "Anti-Semitism from the first century to the twentieth century is a Christian creation and a Christian respon-sibility.'' 2 When one side of a dialogue has exercised political, social, and economic control over the other side for much of history, a Alan Altany is assistant professor of religious studies at Marshall University. His address is Department of Religious Studies; Marshall University; 400 Hal Greer Boulevard; Huntington, West Virginia 25755. November-DeceTnber 1992 839 Altany ¯ ffewisb-Catbolic Dialoffue buildup of trust is necessary if the dialogue is not to be taken by the minority side as a further means of control and domination. The Jewish people have had to face this problem in the context of suffering, for "no doubt the memory of Jewish suffering at the hands of the church makes it difficult for Jews to take as seriously as they should their own classical affirmation of the religious worth of Christianity.''3 One person who went a long way in developing the needed trust and love was Pope John XXIII, even though he died in 1963 before the council he had called was completed (1962-1965) and before the declaration on the Jewish religion was issued. The Jewish author Arthur Gilbert has written that "certainly no pope had communicated as clear and consistent an attitude of friend-ship toward the Jewish people and Judaism in all of history as had Pope John XXIII.''4 The very fact of dialogue can be considered an advance over earlier times, although not everyone agreed that there should be such communication or what the nature of it should be if it did occur. On the one hand there was the position of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, leader of the American Orthodox Jews: "Jews need not withdraw from cooperation on social problems, but there is no value at all in theological conversation, nor, for that makter, is such conversation possible.''s The conservative Catholic theolo-gians who wanted to maintain the old triumphalism in theology were also very skeptical of dialogue, for they felt they could gain little from it, having theologically denied the living worth of Judaism. Martin Buber has spoken about a different perspective on dia-logue, each group living in the heart of its own faith while appre-ciating the other: "It behooves both you [Christians] and us to hold inviolably fast to our own true faith, that is, to our own deepest relationship to truth. It behooves both of us to show a religious respect for the true faith of the other.''6 Another prominent Jewish thinker, Abraham Heschel, has also addressed the nature of dialogue, saying that we should not seek to expose the inner mystery of our faith to the other; rather, "the supreme issue is whether we are alive or dead to the challenge and expectation of the living God.''7 The Jewish perspective is emphasized here, for the church needs to see its historical perse-cution of Jews with great honesty; "while there are notable excep-tions . . . the history of the church's persecution of Judaism and 840 Review for Religious the Jewish people is even today not part of the consciousness of the church.''8 The dynamics of the dialogue are theologically and historically unique and must be understood. For a dialogue to be authentic, its participants must know the history both of the rel.ationship between Jews and Christians and of the anti-Semitism which has afflicted that encounter. Jews involved in the dialogue tend to emphasize this history of oppression whereas Christians have been inclined to focus upon the theological aspects of the relationship. From the time of the Vatican Council II, there has been a renewed look at the history of Jewish-Christian relations. Jews have wanted to remind Christians that to know this history is a moral responsibility because "the Christian experience of salvation has., been disconnected from the peo-plehood of Israel and the fate of the community of Israel through-out the ages.''9 There has been an abyss of Christian unawareness of the lived history of the Jewish community. The dialogue has caused the question to arise whether the interpretation of the Christian Scriptures needs some revision to remove ideas that, over the centuries, led to anti-Semitism. The Patristic period is important in this discussion, "for the [church] Fathers made no effort to understand the Judaism of their age on its terms, and certainly none to recognize in the Synagogue an authentic, if non-Christian, form of biblica! religion . The old wineskins cannot suffice. The new wine, flowing in the consciousness of post-Auschwitz theologians, must seek more suitable wineskins for its ferment.''~° Isolated and oppressed, the Jewish communities through the ages have been involved in a history of tragedy that deeply influ-ences the Jewish perspective on the dialogue. Rabbi Agus reminds us that "to put one community outside the pale of humanity as being at once charged with a metaphysical sin and condemned to an inscrutable fate is to lay the groundwork for the madness of mythological anti-Semitism." ~ Rosemary Ruether says it simply: "This very suppression of Jewish history and experience from 'The supreme issue is whether we are alive or dead to the challenge and expectation of the living God.' November-December 1992 841 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue Christian consciousness is tacidy genocidal. What it says, in effect, is that Jews have no further right to exist after Jesus.''~z After becoming more familiar with the realities of history, the Christians in the dialogue have been confronted with Judaism as a living religion, a heritage of faith that does not define itself within Christian ~heological thought. This is at the very heart of the Catholic-Jewish discussion, for it says that the two religions, while sharing a unique relationship, are two separate religions that need to define themselves on their own terms, not on those of the other. Christians have had the major share of clarification to do here: "Christians must be ~ble to accept the thesis that it is not necessary for Jews to have the story about Jesus in order to have a foundation of faith and a hope for salvation.'''3 This amounts to Catholics realizing tha.t "Judaism can develop an inter gral self-definition without direct reference to. Christianity, while Christianity of nec.essity must include Judaism as a reference point in its self-definition.''~4 In the past a refusal or inability to see this reality has led Christian theologians to declare Judaism an essentially dead religion, serving only as a sterile witness to Christianity. The dialogue has brought this religious exclusivism into the light of criticism where it is understood' that Judaism can define itself without reference to Christianity: "Judaism does not usually define itself in relation to Christianity at all. Ra,ther, it represents an autonomous biblical religion which has passed through many stages, of growth quite independent of Christian assumptions concerning its character.''Is The Catholic Church's official statement on relations with Judaism is included in the council's Declaration on the Relationship of the Church to Non-Christian Religions.16 The final version was weakened in content from the original draft because of pressure from conservative bishops a.nd those bishops from Arab countries who said they feared reprisals against Christians in their countries if the statement was very strongly appreciative of Judai.sm's worth and herit.age. The major watering down of the statement was the decision not to include an explicit condemnation of charging the Jews with "deicide." !t was further criticized for a lack of penitential expression of Christian respon-sibility for persecution: "In vain does one search the Declaration of Vatican II for the slightest positive sign of Christian penite.nce. Because none is present, a.n opportunity of the century was betrayed.''~7 Another deficiency is noted by Henr~ Siegman, who 842 Review for Religious writes that "the failure of the Vatican Guidelines (1975)18 to deal with the theological dimension of the Jewish relationship to the land of Israel constitutes a grievous omission.''19 Yet Rabbi Siegman does say that the two major statements from the Vatican on relations with Jews signal a new spirit of respect and compas-sion that "bracket the past decade [ca. 1965-1975] like a set of bookends,''2° with the Declaration on Non- Christian Religions (Nostra Aerate) "marking a turning point in the history of the Catholic Church and the Jewish people.''2' The Guidelines, although a full decade passed before they were issued, speak more strongly than the conciliar statement about the vitality of Judaism when they state that "the history of Judaism did not end with the destruction of Jerusalem, but rather went on to develop a religious tradition . . . rich in religious values.''z2 We return here to our real theme, that the Jewish-Catholic dialogue must revolve around the realization that each tradition is a vital religion offering a path to God for its members. This recognition is also found in the statement of the U.S. bishops on Catholic-Jewish relations, where there is an exhorta-tion that homilists and liturgists "promote among the Catholic people a genuine appreciation of the special place of the Jewish people as God's first-chosen in the history of salvation and in no way slight the honor and dignity that is theirs,m3 The French bishops had issued in 1973 their own statement putting Nostra Aerate in a developmental perspective: "The posi-tion taken b.y, the Second Vaucan Councd should be considered a beginning rather than a final.achievement.''z4 This document goes on to demand Christian acceptance of the religious identity and spirituality of Judaism: "The Jewish people must not be looked upon by Christians as a mere social and historical reality, but most of all as a religious one; not as the relic of a venerable and finished past but as a reality alive through the ages.''25 The French bish-ops also said that, "far from envisaging the disappearance of the Jewish community, the church is in search of a living bond with 1t."26 A block to such a bond in the past has been the Christian focus of its relationship with Judaism on a theological level. By Each tradition is a vital religion offering a path to God for its members. Novernber-Decentber 1992 843 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue that is meant a Christian theological perspective that saw no pres-ent validity in Judaism because Jews have not accepted Jesus as the Messiah. This has been coupled with the disasterously false accu-sation of "Christ killers" and the resultant "theology of curse," in which the Jews were thought to be cursed by God throughout the ages for their refusal to accept Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. The notion ofservitusJudaeorum, of Jews being destined to suf-fer always in this era of salvation history, grew very deep roots. Christians no longer related to Jews as to authentically religious people, but to a negative legend of Jewishness that arose from the dark depths and persistence of anti-Semitism. What has the Jewish-Catholic dialogue done to transform this situation? Discussions of the relation between Jews, Christians, and covenant took place. The French bishops said that "the First Covenant was not made invalid by the Second.''27 Monika Hellwig's attitude on this issue is that "living out the implications of contemporary theology may make Christians look a great deal more like Jews, and they may discover that they are after all one tree with them, rooted in the one covenant."z8 What is the relationship between the Jewish and the Christian covenant(s)? What does "chosen people" mean? What is the rela-tion between the church and Israel? These are theological ques-tions that are beyond the scope of this discussion, but they do suggest the need for a continuation of the dialogue into the 2 1st century and for ongoing theologizing to interpret past and present positions and to develop new insights and opportunities for deeper cooperation and dialogue. Coloring all of the discussions between Catholics and Jews are, and must be, the two pivotal realities for all Jews (and in a real sense for all Christians), the Holocaust and the founding of the modern state of Israel. In the consciousness of the Jewish partic-ipants, these realities have been constant factors determining the nature and direction of the dialogue itself. The deadly irony was that, by denying the living status of Judaism and of the Jewish people as still "chosen," the Christian churches down through history contributed to the brutal "choos-ing" of the Jews for persecution. This was the background for the evil of the Holocaust. Rabbi Agus speaks of an expanded under-standing of "chosen" when he says: "It seemed that there could be only one Chosen People, and all who were not so chosen would be cast into outer darkness. Today many of us interpret 'chosen- 844 Review for Religious ness' in the sense of an example, not of an exception. The greater the number of people covenanting with the Lord, the better.''29 The ages-long Christian exclusion of the Jews from the main-stream of Christian theological understanding, in the sense of refutingJudaism's authenticity as a living religion, built the foun-dations for persecutions, for the Holocaust. The Catholic John Pawlikowski has said that "Hitler and his collaborators could never have attained the heights they did if it were not for the centuries-long tradition of anti-Semitism in Christian theology and preaching.''3° The Holocaust is at the end of an ancient and tenaciously tri-umphalistic tradition of anti- Judaism and anti-Semitism. "The Holocaust acted out the church's fantasy that the Jews were a nonpeople, that they had no place before God, and that they should have disap-peared long ago by accepting Christ.''31 The Holocaust incorporates all the acts of hostility, barbarity, and fearsome hatred that Christians have enacted against the Jews over the centuries. Without such a historical founda-tion, it is very unlikely that the Holocaust could have been carried out by the pagan Nazis. The dialogue has encouraged a radical look at the Holocaust and has encouraged the incipient efforts to seek its meaning for Jews and all peoples. Rabbi Irving Greenberg sees the Holocaust as revealing an existential division within Christianity: "The redemption and revelation of Christianity is inescapably contra-dicted by the constellation of its classic understanding of Judaism.''32 This division within the Christian theological inter-pretations could, through wisdom and compassion in the dia-logue, be critically transformed. The dreadful absurdity of the Holocaust is portrayed by Rabbi Greenberg when he says that, "were Jesus and his mother alive in Europe in the 1940s, they would have been sent to Auschwitz.''33 Generations of Jews and Christians will have the responsi-bility to reflect upon its causes and meaning, although its mean- Coloring all of the discussions between Catholics and Jews are the two pivotal realities: the Holocaust and the founding of the modern state of Israel. November-December 1992 845 /litany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue ing escapes all logical analysis. From the Catholic viewpoint, the church must keep the Holocaust in its consciousness. Gregory Baum sees it as revelation that must be incorporated into the church's own understanding of itself, an encounter that is a turn-ing point for the church's vision of itself.34 The Holocaust is coupled in Jewish awareness with the found-ing of the modern state of Israel after World War II. It was men-tioned earlier that the Vatican Guidelines were criticized for their failure to address the vital relationship between the Jewish peo-ple and the land of Israel. The importance of this failure is high-lighted when the Jewish position is made clear that Israel rose from the ashes of the death camps: "Israel's faith in the God of History demands that an unprecedented event of destruction [the Holocaust] be matched by an unprecedented act of redemption, and this has happened [the establishment of the state of Israeli.''3s In the dialogue this Jewish attachment to a particular place has reminded Christians, who may overly tend toward abstract uni-versalisms, that people live in place and time, that their religious heritages are founded and developed within history. Christians have faith in the person of Jesus, not in some neutral, impersonal force. So, too, Jews regard Israel in a very personal and commu-nal way; it is the "place" of the people of the covenant and has a crucial role in the salvation of the people. "One Jewish scholar in an. address to a Christian audience said that 'for us Jews Israel is our Jesus.'''36 Israel remains a top-priority issue in the dialogue. Each one of the issues mentioned so far, such as covenant, the Holocaust, Israel, and the church documents could have been the topic for this whole discussion. However, they have been men-tioned briefly as the necessary foundation for the main purpose, to discuss the very core of the Jewish-Catholic dialogue, which is the awareness and appreciation of one's own faith and of the reli-gious tradition and faith of the other. From here we will deal with one of the main dialogic developments that may prove to be a means of drawing Jews and Catholics (and all Christians) into more theological communication in the future and of helping Jews and Christians address in solidarity the human task of being human. The development has to do with the interpretation of redemption and eschatology, that is, the final events of salvation history. Christians have always announced that the messianic age was here, that the kingdom of God was activated and present in Christ. Review for Religious The Jews have responded by pointing out the window at the suf-fering and evil still present in the world--so how could the mes-sianic times be here? It is on this point that the Jewish-Catholic dialogue has wrestled theologically, and we can look at some of the early results of that intimate and intense grappling. The French bishops have said: "Though Jews and Christians accomplish their vocation along dissimilar lines, history shows that their paths cross incessantly. Is not the messianic time their common concern?''37 For Jews Israel has a crucial role in the mes-sianic reality of building the kingdom of God through God's ini-tiation and responsive human participation. Israel became the center of the hope for messianic fulfillment for the Jews and all peoples. Rabbi Agus says that in Jewish awareness Israel is a "part of the universal messianic vision''38 and that "in modern Israel the ~fterglow of the messianic mystique is a potent reality, and Jews the world over respond to its perennial allure . ,,39 This was the expression of an "Israel-centered eschatology [that] favored the rebuilding of a Jewish state as a further step in the fulfillment of the messianic hope for all mankind.''4° "Fulfillment has become a centering point in the dialogue.''4~ It is fascinating that, in a relationship so often stained with blood (Jewish blood) in the past, a new relationship of compassion and plain humanity is being encouraged and formed through dis-cussion of the future and through eschatological theology: "This eschatological turn [new focus on eschatology by Christians] has brought the Church closer to the Synagtgue: both Jews and Christians now yearn for the messianic days when God will tri-umph over the power of darkness.''42 Rosemary Ruether speaks of unfulfilled and fulfilled redemp-tion. This approach opens doors for dialogue, including a look by Christians at what they mean by the parousia, the second com-ing of Christ. For Christians the present age is not yet completely fulfilled messianically, and the hope remains for a future fulfill-ment at Christ's return. In his introduction to Ruether's Faith and Fratricide, Gregory Baum addresses this future hope of fulfill-ment: ". the incompleteness of present redemption. Jesus is a significant beginning, an irreversible turning point, and a promise for future fu!fillment . The early Christians had a special vocab-ulary'for speaking about the unfinished character of the present redemption: they spoke of the second coming.''43 Pinchas Lapide and Hans Kiing engaged in a Jewish-Catholic November-December 1992 847 /litany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue dialogue, and a couple of their discussions are pertinent here, as well as displaying the warmth and humor necessary for dialogue to flourish. First K~ing, the Catholic: "We would also agree with you in this decisive argument which is continually raised by Jews against the Christian message: that redemption in the sense of consummation is not yet truly present . lit is] in this sense [that] Jesus Christ . . . announced this kingdom.''44 Lapide, the Jew, later said: "You are waiting for the parousia; with you, too, the fullness of the redemption is still in the future; I await its coming, but the second coming is also a coming. If the Messiah comes and then turns out.to be Jesus of Nazareth, I would say that I do not know of any Jew in this world who would have anything against it.''4s It is significant that Jews and Catholics can agree that redemp-tion will be further realized and fulfilled in the future through the revealed and mysterious action of a saving God, as shown by their acknowledgment that "the eschatological tension has not been resolved. What may be expected in the messianic fulfillment has not yet become manifest in the world . The messianic event should be seen as lengthy, complex, unfinished, and mys-terious." 46 For the Catholic Church, theologizing in this way can open up directions for and development of a theology of, and for the purpose of, dialogue with Judaism. Such a theology can help to melt the religious exclusivity and transform triumphalism into cooperation. The Christian can remain Christian and not suc-cumb to some kind of syncretism or eclecticism, while still seeing that God graces all humanity. The old "no salvation outside the church" (extra ecclesiam nulla salus) used as a weapon for con-demning all non-Catholics becomes an historical relic that can be buried. Our age is a time of new openings for dia!ogue among religions, and people begin to see more clearly that God's love touches, all human beings: "Since the divine redemption is not finished in Jesus, except by way of anticipation, the church is not the unique vehicle of grace: room remains in world history for other ways of grace, for many religions, and in particular for the other biblical faith, for Judaism.''47 Of course, Jews do not need to be told that Judaism is a vehicle of God's grace, but it helps for Christians, too, to have this understanding. So we return here to what was stated at the beginning, that the dialogue needs to be conducted with mutual appreciation Of each 848 Review for Religious other's religion, with special emphasis given, because of the his- .torical realities, to a Christian awareness of Judaism as a living and holy religious heritage. In looking at the Church's Guidelines document, Rabbi Siegman has written that "the Guidelines are the first Catholic document on the highest level of authority that view Judaism as a rich and vital religious movement in the period following the rise of Christianity as well [that is, not only in pre- Christian, patriarchal times]."qs Then in 1985 the Vatican's Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews pub!ished a document called "The Jews and Judaism in Preaching and Catechesis," Without such awareness by Catholics that Judaism has been and continues to be a living religious tradition, there could be no dialogue at all. But a change in the negative momentum of two millennia begins as Catholicism sees that God comes to the Jews through the Jewish religion, that God does hear the prayers of the Jews. Baum has said it clearly: "God continues to operate in the Jewish people. Christians must regard the Jewish re!igion as an authentic, God-inspired, supernatural worship of the one'true God.''49 History must be remembered; Jews and Catholics must remember and must envision new possibilities. Auschwitz and hope must be permanent parts of consciousness. For just as "no Jew is likely to forget Auschwitz, . . . no Christian can afford to blot its horror from his memory, for theology, like history, has changed its character, and nothing can reverse the situation.''s° By studying the traditions of rabbinic Judaism and learning the teachings of the Jewish sages, Catholics can be enriched; they can discover this living wisdom and faith. By taking a fresh look at Jesus and by studying the Christian sages of spirituality, Jews can be enriched; they can discover this living wisdom and faith. For Christians Jesus himself is their Jewish point of contact for "Jesus the Jew thought as a Jew, loved as a Jew, . . . suffered as a Jew, and died a Jew. It is impossible to understand Jesus without under-standing his Jewish concept of God's people and of God's covenant with his people.''51 The dialogue is thus not simply a work for small groups of A theology can help melt religious exclusivity and transform triumphalism into cooperation. November-December 1992 849 Altany ¯ Jewish.-Catholic Dialogue theologians. It has become part of the religious atmosphere, a process that surely is still at an early stage of progress. Yet steadily, implicitly or explicitly, the dialogue has meaning. Rabbi Siegman has said: "Given his or her own self-understanding, the Christian cannot avoid being confronted by the persistence 6f a living, thriv-ing Judaism. That living reality poses for the Christian the ques-tion of ultimate truth, and that is what makes the dialogue necessary and compelling.''52 And the dialogue demands action, especially from Catholics as they reconceive history. How can there re.ally be dialogue if there is an absence of genuine Catholic repentanc.e? How can the dialogue continue into the future with-out moral reconciliation? "Professor [Friedrich] Heer [a Catholic] asks: 'How is this church of ours to answer, today and tomorrow and the day after, for what she has done over these two thousand years to Jesus the Jew, to his people, to mankind, and to herself?.' V~e must confess our sin; we must ask God's forgiveness and that of the world community of Israel. But we must also perform deeds of reconciliation.''53 The time is now past when the facts about persecution of Jews by Christians over the course of history, facts deeply infused in Jewish experience, can be absent from Christian conscious-ness. Any claim to ignorance of such tragedies has no more excuse. Contemporary Jewish and Catholic theologies need to be devel-oped in the burning reality and memory of the Holocaust. M1 of this means that the dialogue demands radical reformation and compassion; Jews and Catholics mus~ recognize in each other a witness to God's saving love: "To be a b!essing unto people and a light unto nations is to be Israel. Toward that vocation both Christians and Jews feel themselves called. May we be worthy of our name.''54 Notes ~ Eugene Fisher, Faith Without Prejudice (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), p. 14. "[That] the church can understand its own nature only in dia-logue with a living Judaism is literally breathtaking to one who knows the history of the dark days of suspicion and polemics" (p. 27). 2 Henry Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations: A Reassessment," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 15, no. 2 (spring 1978): 249. 3 Ibid, p. 254. 4 Arthur Gilbert, The Vatican Council and the Jews (Cleveland: Word Publishing Co., 1968), p. 85. 850 Review for Religious s lbid, p. 125. 6 Ben Zion Bokser, Judaism and the Christian Predicament (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1967), p. 377. 7 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 246. 8 Ibid, p. 248. 9 Monika Hellwig, "From the Jesus of Story to the Christ of Dogma," in Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, Alan T. Davies, ed. (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 126. 10 Alan T. Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind (New York: Herder & Herder, 1969), p. 90. 1~ Jean Dani~lou, Dialogue with Israel (Baltimore: Helicon, 1968), p. 121. Rabbi Jacob Agus wrote a response to the views of Dani~lou in the book. 12 Rosemary Ruether, Faith and Fratricide (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 258. 13 Ibid, p. 256. ~4 John Pawlikowski, "The Contemporary Jewish-Christian Theological Dialogue Agenda," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 11, no. 4 (fall 1974): 608. "Despite their shared biblical heritage and other simi-larities, Judaism and Christianity are essentially distinct religions, each one emphasizing different but complementary aspects of our religious dimen-sion" (p. 605). is Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind, p. 104. 16 The very phrase "non-Christian religions" gives a sense of at least implicit exclusivism. ~7 A. Roy Eckardt, Your People, My People (New York: New York Times Book Co., 1974), p. 51. 18 The council statement was issued in 1965, while "Guidelines and Suggestions for Implementing the Conciliar Declaration Nostra Aestate" (n. 4) was issued in 1975 by the Vatican Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews. 19 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 251. 20 Henry Siegman, "An Overview of Christian-Jewish Relations," Jewish Digest 20, no. 9 (June 1976): 66. "There seems to have been no comparable developments of similar import for Christian-Jewish rela-tions during this entire decade in Protestant and Orthodox Christianity" (p. 66). 2, Ibid, p. 69. 22 Guidelines, 1975. 23 "Statement on Catholic-Jewish Relations by the U.S. National Conference of Catholic Bishops," November 1975, in Stepping Stones to FurtherJewish-Christian Relations, ed. Helga Croner (New York: Stimulus Books, 1977), p. 34. 24 Ibid, p. 60. "Statement by the French Bishops Committee for Relations with Jews," April 1973. November-December 1992 851 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue 25 Ibid, p. 61. 26 Ibid, p. 64. 27 Ibid, p. 62. 28 Monika Hellwig, "Christian Theology and the Covenant of Israel," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 7, no. 1 (winter 1970): 51. 29 Dani6lou, Dialogue with lsrael, p. 113. 30 Pawlikowski, "Contemporary Jewish-Christian Agenda," p. 613. 31 Gregory Baum, "Catholic Dogma after Auschwitz," Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, ed. Alan T. Davies (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 142. "The church's negation of Jewish existence before God created symbols and produced an atmosphere in which it was pos-sible for Hitler to make the Jews a scapegoat for the ills of society, and count on much popular support for his anti-Semitic campaigns" (p. 139). 32 Irving Greenberg, "New Revelations and New Patterns in the Relationship of Judaism and Christianity," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 16, no. 2 (spring 1979): 257. "Never again should official badge or pro-fessed religious belief allow murderers to escape condemnation and excommunication or allow victims to be excluded from the circle of humanity. Surrendering religious exclusivism or triumphalism is a crucial moral step" (p. 260). 33 Ibid, p. 258. 34 Baum, "Catholic Dogma after Auschwitz," p. 141. 3s Greenberg, "New Revelations and New Patterns," p. 263. 36 Pawlikowski, "Contemporary Jewish-Christian Agenda," p. 599. 37 Croner, Stepping Stones to Further Jewish-Christian Relations, p. 65. 38 Jacob Agus, "Israel and Jewish-Christian Dialogue," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 6, no. 1 (1969): 31. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid, p. 18. 41 Ibid. 42 Baum, in Davies, ed., Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, p. 147. 43 Ruether, Faith and Fratricide, p. 17. ~ Hans K~ing and Pinchas Lapide, "Is Jesus a Bond or Barrier? A Jewish-Christian Dialogue," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 14, no. 3 (summer 1977): 480. 45 Ibid, p. 482. 46 Hellwig, "Christian Theology and the Covenant of Israel," pp. 49-50. 47 Baum, in Ruether, Faith and Fratricide, p. 18. "Because Christianity proclaims an unfilled messianism, the church is not the only instrument that serves the coming of the final kingdom: there is room for other vehi-cles of grace" (p. 203). 48 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 258. 852 Review for Religious 49 Gilbert, Vatican Council and the Jews, p. 207. "Today we encounter the divinely inspired tradition of a living Judaism as a tradition, like our own, 'rich in religious value'" (Fisher, Faith Without Prejudice, p. 7). so Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind, p. 190. Sl Friedrich Heer, "The Catholic Church and Jews Today," Midstream 17, no. 5 (May 1971): 26. s2 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 245. s3 Eckardt, Your People, My People, p. 250. s4 Gilbert, Vatican Council and the Jews, p. 242. Crib Chiaroscuro Always, by distance of darkness, You lay far as a star away. Always, the darkness was the gentle despair of knowing You were there, Your haloed-hair glowing against brown, slatted wood, but that I could not bridge that black of my own love-lack. Then, at my midnight moment of clarity when the sky of my spirit was spun by the sweet suddenness of Your smile to a cosmic charity-~even then I could not come near it, the crib reeling with a radiance too concealing. But now, dimmer than daystar at dawn, the crib is a pale glimmer of grace obscurity framing Your face and Your purity. I touch the Intangible. Marilyn Eynon Scott November-December 1992 853 PAUL F. HARMAN The Media and the Good News Raymond Carver, the widely acclaimed short-story writer from the Northwest who died just two years ago, gave one of his stories the title "Where I'm Calling From." Let me begin these remarks about formation and the communica6ons apostolate by telling you "where I'm call-ing from." In 1984 John O'Brien SJ, who was then the commu-nication secretary in the Roman curia of the Society of Jesus, wrote a position paper on "Jesuit Formation in Social Communication." He proposed introducing a com-munications component at every stage of the Society's for-mation process and sketched this out in some detail. His proposal met with only polite interest. Talking with Jack a few years later in Rome, I felt he was disappointed that there had not been more enthusiasm. Yet when I reread his proposal recently, it was clear that many of his recom-mendations had, in fact, found their way into the Jesuit formation program in the United States. Moreover, when Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, the superior general of the Society of Jesus, gave his "State of the Society" address to the provincials gathered at Loyola in 1991, he was able to report that "formation in communication for all Paul E Harman SJ is the Secretary for Formation for the Jesuit Conference in the United States. This article is the substance of an address he gave in Denver on 2 August 1992 to JESCOM, an association of Jesuits and their fellow workers in communi-cations apostolates. He can be addressed at Suite 300; 1424 16th Street N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20036. 854 Review for Religious scholastics is now becoming a fairly regular occurrence." The Jesuit major superiors of Africa and Madagascar, for example, have given their approval for an integrated program of training in communication covering the whole of Jesuit formation from novi-tiate to ordination. There is no lack of very clear and specific communications from all quarters about what formation should and should not be doing. In April 1992 the pope issued the official papal response to the 1990 Synod of Bishops on priestly formation. In November 1992 the U.S. bishops are looking at the fourth edition of "The Program for Priestly Formation," the document which is nor-mative for all seminaries and religious houses of priestly forma-tion in the United States; the revisions have taken almost two ~ears of committee work and gone through several drafts. Over the past eight years I have read at least forW pastoral letters, major addresses, and Roman documents--all published in Origins--on the identity, formation, education, spirituality, and ministry of priests. And, of course, there are the more controversial writings on Jesuit formation past, present, and future: Frank Houdek's "T.h.e Road Too Often Traveled,''1 Peter McDonough's Men Astutel.y Trained,2 and Joseph Becker's The Re-Formed Jesuits, vol-ume 1.3 (The latter two works, ~hough from different perspec-tives, look back with more than a little nostalgia to an older formation program and raise questions about the 9hanges intro-duced by the Second Vatican Council and General Congregations 31 and 32 of the Society.) If eight years ago formation personnel did not rush to imPle-ment every recommendation in Jack O'Brien's position paper, it was not for any lack of interest in or commitment to the com-munications apostolate. Rather it was because then, as now, those responsible for formation--perhaps this has always been and always will be the case--were concerned about "overload." The formation period is both too long .and too short. The list of all that needs to be accomplished in the space of the formation years g~'ows and grows and grows. There are, first of all, the "basics": formation in religious life, in community,, and in the spirituality of the order or congregation; introduction to its history, its traditions, and its varied aposto-lates. 'The essential academic studies of philosophy and theology demand large amounts of time as do the study of language, history, art, science, literature, economics, and psychology. And--along November-December 1992 855 Harman ¯ The Media and the Good News the way--issues of community life, interpersonal relationships, psychosexual development, addictions, and family disorders may need to be addressed. Can we do more in formation in the years between the novi-tiate and final profession? Of course we can, and we will because the times and circumstances demand it of us. Could we do for-mation, differently, so that it is not simply a matter of adding more and more components to a process that is al~'eady very long, con-sidering that the average entrance age is 26? Perhaps. There are always efforts in that direction. After eight years of looking at formation at close range, I am more and more inclined to think that we need to put less empha-sis on formation and more emphasis on mission. In doing so, we might discover that, in formation, less is definitely more. I was in the Far East earlier this year and met some of the novices and scholastics there; they were, on the average, about the same age as our novices and scholastics (that is, late twen-ties), generous, eager, intelligent, self-posses~ed, many of them with stories that I will not easily forget (as is true of our own entering novices in the United States). I listened intently to the discussions of formation issues in Korea, Indonesia, China, Vietnam, Japan, and Singapore, but I kept asking myself the same question that I ask here in the United States: Do we expect too much of formation? In my notebook I wrote: "Enough of forma-tion! Just ~et them free to become saints and martyrs. Mother Teresa says, 'Do something beautiful for God.' Here at home the Nike ads tell us, 'Just do it!'" So that is "where I'm calling from." Having said that we should talk less about formation and more about mission, let me say something about mission and the com-munications apostolate. If someone were to ask me to list the places in the text of the Exercises from which Jesuits over the centuries have drawn par-ticular energy and motivation for their lives, one of the first texts I would point to is §106 in the first contemplation of the first day of the Second Week. In this contemplation'on the incarnation, St. Ignatius proposes that the exercitant "see" all the people on the face of the earth "in such great diversity in dress and in manner of acting. Some are white, some black; some at peace, and some 856 ~Review for Religious at war; some weeping, some laughing, some well, some sick, some coming into the world, and some dying . " Put very simply, the exercitant is invited to look at the masses, not with the dis-passionate eye of the statistician or social scientist, but with the loving gaze of the Trinity. It is almost fifty years since a special Labor Day Weekend me~ting at West Baden, Indiana, of some 200 Jesuits gathered to assess the situation of the Society vis-a-vis the social situation in the United States. Peter McDonough makes much of this 1943 assembly in his book Men Astutely Trained. Unfortunately, there was nothing like JESCOM around then, but Father Dan Lord, who knew a thing or twO about the media, spoke forcefully aboui: reaching the masses, noting in passing that the Communist party in the United States showed more zeal in this respect than did the Society. (Jesuits seemed to rely more on the "trickle down" theory--focus-ing principally on the educational apostolate.) Many religious congregations, now more than ever, are becoming aware of a mission to reach the many, the masses, as well as the few. How do religious communities--all of us, not just those in formation--take i'esponsibility for this mission? Let me concentrate on one part of the mission, naniely, the Catholic masses. The Official Catholic Directory puts the number of bap-tized Roman Catholics in flae United States at almost 60 million; we are nearly one-fourth of the total population, and we are an increasingly diverse group. It has been said that Roman Catholics are now the only major religious denomination that truly has everybody in it. Now that is a mission with some challenge! Of the 60 million Catholics, 15 millionwa fourth of the Catholic population--are "inactive." Eighteen million Catholics have not attended Mass in any given month. The level of educa-tion among U.S. Catholics has risen dramatically in the last gen-eration and is actually slightly higher than the average national statistics; but young Catholics, for the

Issue 50.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1991. ; Review Religious Volume 50 Number 5 September / October 1991 50 TM ANNIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RI:.LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telcphonc: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'~EW Foa R~:I,I(;IOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs¯ See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW I.'Oa R~:t,tc, IOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LouIs, MO 63108 IIII III IIII II IIII III I PRISMS. What did you go out to the desert to see? A prophet? The question which Jesus asked his own people takes on a special poignancy for us toda~y in the Church. Our biblical tradition indicates that God raises up prophetic people in dark and difficult days. Because many see the time of renewal called for by Vatican II as a period of continuing strug-gle and tension--sometimes sadly with positions defended or fixed rather than with dialogue explored--affecting people and priests in parishes, bish-ops in national hierarchies, and religious in the same congregation, there is a greater tendency today to go running out, searching for a prophet. As usual there is also the temptation for some to play the prophet. But the prophetic tradition strongly emphasizes that tree prophets do not identify the role for themselves. God plucks people out of ordinary circum-stances, evokes some kind of personal conversion, and then speaks and works through them, even in their own reluctance for the role, and in their fear and trembling. Although we tend to apply the word prophet glibly to some modem-day leaders, educators, and writers, we perhaps are not far off the mark when we search for those movements and calls of God that come in incremental ways through ordinary-looking people and events. It is to acknowledge that prophets, like saints, have a range from "capital P" prophets (like our canonized "capital S" saints) with a major message of modeling and influence ~o the almost hidden (because of everydayness) small-letter prophets who in limited and confined ways raise questions, sug-gest new directions, make us uncomfortable, and at the same time give us hope. Prophets of lasting influence are s~arce at any time in our world's his-tory. Yet we may find it all too easy, even now, to mute the "smail p" prophet either ir~ our fixated search for major prophetic voices or in our disdain for less-than-radical calls. The even greater loss, however, happens when we may intentionally or unintentionally downplay our own lived (small p) prophetic witness to Christ's values--an integral part of our own chosen way of life. Review for Religious has been p~rivileged through the years to present voices of personal witness and articles of challenge and critique which repre-sent this common spectrum of our e ~eryday prophets. In this issue, "Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion" by Susan Rakoczy is a personal witness to 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 God's continuing call to go beyond a familiar homeland and to pay its enlivening costs---costs borne more within oneself than without. Jean Steffes considers directly in her article the theme of the prophetic-witness aspect of contemporary religious life. The articles by Giallanza, Levey, Arbuckle, and Mueller give further reflections on various aspects of religious life that affect its present and future witness. From the area of contemplation, the ground of all prophetic activity, Joseph Tetlow uses a very simple image from the changing seasons of the year to present an understanding of God's calls and our responses for a com-monplace continuity of spiritual growth. In a similar way Gerard Luttenberger sees through the contemplative Fourth Mansion of St. Ter6sa a way of praying apostolically. A prophetic relationship of faith with our United States culture grounds Hoffman's treatment of creative leisure and, in a very different fashion, Hinojosa's suggestions for formation, as he espe-cially has the Hispanic candidate in mind. Rywalt shares his experience of the sometimes dark journeying required of religious trying to follow God's lead in the transfer process in this consecrated lifeform. The prophetic and priestly people which we are will find fresh insight into the manna-food for our joumeying in Billy's "The Bread Kernel," clari-ty in Meyer's restating of the ministerial priesthood foundation through a deeper appreciation of an ambassador's role, and consolation in the gentle wisdom of living reflected in McDonald's "Faithful Servant." Perhaps, in our effort to identify prophets, McDonald's theme goes right to the heart of the matter. No truer discernment or greater tribute can be given to any prophet, spelled with large or small p, than to be identified, like Moses, as a faithful servant of God. David L. Fleming, S.J. Four Seasons of the Soul Joseph .4. Tetlow, SJ Father Tetlow wrote "The Mirror in the Field" for our November/December 1988 issue. His current address is Jesuit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. I~uring the experience of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, you have a sense of movement and of progress. Particularly during a nineteenth-annotation experience of them, you have the sense of getting along with things and of genuine growth in God. When you have finished the Exercises, if you are like many exercitants, you miss that sense of movement and progress. Even though you continue to pray as long and as seriously as you did during the Exercises, you may well come to wonder where "growth" has gone, and a sense of your life in Christ unfolding for you. You know how times of consolation and times of desola-tion mark spiritual growth or its absence, but this is the microeconomy of the spirit, a topological map of a mountain that does not tell you which range it is in or even which hemisphere. You might find some sense of getting along by applying the traditional phases or stages of spiritual growth. You would recognize, to start with, the stages of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. You have heard of the Dark Nights, of the Senses and of the Soul. But reading these stages requires great expertness and an intense concentration on the interior life. You may find them of limited help in reading your growth in the Lord while you live an ordinary life in the world. Furthermore, these traditional stages of spiritual growth have focused tightly on the individual spirit. They do not comprehend a lot of the "your life world." They do not illuminate the interplay of others' needs and inter-ests with your own, or the tension between remaining faithful to your self and growing more faithful to those whom God gives you to love and be 643 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 loved by. Each of these traditional ways of gauging where you are in your interior life instructs you how to pray at a given time and what to pray about. They do not much tell you what to pray for. Now that you know the Spiritual Exercises, you might find it useful to think of phases or stages of the interior life in terms of the Four Weeks. You can take the Weeks as seasons distinct from one another. They really do match the phases or stages of growth that we go through as we live contem-platives in the active world. If you interpret your experience in these terms, you will not find a lot of instruction on what to pray about (that instruction will rise out of your current experience), but you will find sound instruction on what to pray for. The Seasons of the Four Weeks Think of the seasons not as four parts of one whole life, but as a cycle that we all go through in our life world. Consider life as a whole at this given moment, and picture how it is colored seasonally. The first season would be like this: You go along working hard and praying easily. You feel like springtime, and your whole self sprouts new life. Your life world seems filled with promise. Life is given to you, rising up from within your self and teeming all around you. In such a time, you are in the season of the Fourth Week. The truth is that Jesus came to "give you joy, and to the full," and he was transcendently powerful to achieve what he set out to achieve. As you know, we are created to live in consolation, which means that we share the sureness of the risen Christ that the reign of God comes, for each one of us and for all of humankind together. So we live in the joy of Christ, as we have a fight to do, and this is the Fourth Week. You enter Christ's joy, in work and in prayer. Ask yourself: During this springtime, what do you ask for? You go through times, as all of us do, of confusion and darkness, your inner world and life world matching. Your life world itself may be in tur-moil, and perhaps threatens your family, career, or health. All of us have experienced these times as wars succeed one another and one national crisis after another: toxic waste, the Savings and Loans debacle, the awesome national deficit. In a very real sense, when we suffer these times we are bear-ing the sins of all peoples--the sins of unjust rulers, of greedy people with economic power, of self-centered people who feed on us. In these times you feel powerless and perhaps even helpless. You live in depression or doubt or perhaps even jeopardy. In such a time you are walk-ing with Jesus Christ in his Passion. This is not merely metaphor: our Master warned us that we would feel persecuted and hunted, for if his life world Four Seasons of the Soul / 645 treated him as it did, then we are to anticipate faring no better. St. Paul said that we are to fill up the sufferings that Christ Jesus has still to undergo for the sake of his body, the Church. Sometimes we live in the Passion of Jesus, feeling the terrible weight of taking up our cross daily. In this wintry time of the Third Week, what grace gives you a sense of growth and movement? Again, at times you seem merely to be working along from day to day. You do not feel any great consolation or any notable desolation. You trust God by enacting your own desires and conscience and by doing the next good thing. You do not feel any great pressure to have life all figured out, or the vexing pressure of strong temptation to this or that sin you are prone to. You pray to the Father and listen to the Spirit. You live out your discipleship faithfully and enduringly. This is the Second Week, as you walk with Jesus of Nazareth, either in the long decades of his hidden life or in the brief exertions of his public life. It is full summertime, and you are growing in God. You take summertime concerns to prayer and stay with Jesus proclaiming his Good News. But summertime can seem lazy and unmoving. What grace will help you sense progress? Finally, there come times when you feel the weight of your own sin. You do again something that you thought you had truly put behind you. You fail to do something that you had set yourself most resolutely to do. You are in the First Week again. You find out that your ideal has little of the noble in it, or that your self-image includes falsehood, or that you have been acting as though you loathe your self and despise your life. Then you feel the deep burning of shame. Or you realize that you have been violating your own conscience, deliberately deceiving your own self and spreading your poison around you. Then you feel the icy sting of guilt. Yet all of this time you already know how God loves you, even how God keeps on being your Creator and Lord. This is the season of fall, when you join the cycle of life and death that belongs to this earth of ours. You flirt with spiritual death, but you know that you will not die, but live. You cannot doubt that God forgives again and again, and you take into your prayer that utter confidence in God's forgiving love. This is the season of the First Week. Once you have asked God's forgiveness, what else are we to ask for in order to have the experience of movement and growth? It is to find the answer to this question that you think in terms of the sea-sons of the Four Weeks. Other stages and phases instruct us in the kind of prayer we might give ourselves to. The "unitive way," for instance, suggests a prayer of deep quiet. Other stages help us hold onto the kind of faith and 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 hope we need to exercise. The Dark Night of the Senses helps us know that it is, indeed, faith we are exercising, and not doubt. Other stages or phases name kinds of temptation and grades of consolation and desolation. A pray-ing person who has been drawn to apophatic prayer will readily recognize daydreams of food as a desolation. But the stages and phases give little instruction on the very humble question of what, specifically, we are to ask for. Or perhaps more accurately, what instruction they do give is not readily accessible to the majority of praying Christians. "I Ask for What I Want" Matching the Four Weeks with the seasons of discipleship suggests immediately and accurately what you ought to ask God for. Each of the Weeks has a specific grace. These specific graces are precisely what we need in each of the four seasons of discipleship. When we feel the burning of shame or the icy sting of guilt, obviously, we ask forgiveness. Equally obviously, we receive this forgiveness even before we ask it. Then what? You would immediately reject dwelling on the shame or the guilt. You would repudiate self-lacerating examination. What you need is a sense of your complicity in humankind's sin, and a sense of how the disorder manifest in your life world lies waiting to manifest itself in yourself. You can ask for that plainly, and you will have a sense of getting on with God's project. You can also ask another gift of the First Week: the answer to the three questions in the colloquy of the first exercise. The deepest grace of the First Week is to be given eyes to see Jesus Christ. While you stand under the cross of Jesus Christ, you ask yourself, "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What might I do for Christ?" The growth and movement in answer to this prayer have to do with understanding the past and looking to the future. If you have been sinning, then start with how God succeeded in you, with what you have done for Christ. If you are acting sinfully, you need to attend to what else you are now doing: What are you doing for Christ? And as you repent yet again, you stand with Christ and ask what you might do for him and for his body the Church. This is the growth in the season of fall. A second season: of busyness. Your attention runs in a hundred direc-tions. You face concrete decisions hour by hour. You have to deal with oth-ers day after day. You have to remain authentic to your own self and grow more and more fully a member. Here, in this heated season of summer, you might ask most appropriately for the gift of the Second Week: to know Jesus Four Seasons of the Soul / 647 better, to love him more, and to go the way he goes. He has been through this summer and through the desert of busyness. For some the life of the Lord will be an inspiration (as Carl Gustav Jung said it ought to be). They will learn from Jesus of Nazareth how to relate in the dusty marketplace to the God who chooses to be father and mother to us. For others the life of the Lord will be an example for imitation (as the Church has taught since Jesus proclaimed himself Way, Truth, and Life). For all of us, growth in God means growth in loving Jesus of Nazareth who is the Christ. That is the grace you ask for in the summer, the Second Week. When winter comes upon your self and your life world, you cannot escape suffering. Well, in the Third Week, you have watched with Jesus through his Passion. Remember this accompaniment and what you asked for then. Perhaps you will ask to accept your suffering in compassion with Jesus suffering and to know shame "because the Lord is going to his suffering for my sins," while you have acted in complicity with all humankind in sinning. This is the grace of the first contemplation at midnight. In any pain or suffer-ing, growth will lie in and through compassion. You might be drawn, again, to ask that your own suffering somehow be "with Christ in sorrow, [your] anguish with Christ in anguish, [your] tears and deep grief because of the great affliction" Christ endured for you. This is a great gift, and those who embrace their own suffering in the world know what Jesus knew. This pain will end nothing, but will end; ifI can discern no movement toward life, I know my growth is where I am; God is faithful. This prayer to God transmutes a wintry time from merely a depression or recession or grave aggravation to a time of growth in Christ. Finally, when you live in happiness and your life world hums along in springtime, you can most reasonably beg God that you enter into the joy of Jesus Christ. There lies the way of movement and growth, first of all because you will not be immobilized by anxiety. We hold the happiness of earth tightly because it is given and taken away, apparently randomly. Unlike the joy of the earth, Jesus' joy is not given and taken away; it is given and to the full. Growth does not mean having things permanently or living secure or figuring everything out. All of these are illusory, and depending on any of them is writing on water. Growth for Christ's disciples entails precisely shaking off dependence on possessions and all defense against risks of personal encounter. You grow a more complete self with every deeper realization that God's is the initia-tive, the victory, which is Jesus' joy and glory. You grow more secure as you accept more and more fully that you did not earn life or joy and that, if you can make no demands, the One who gives constantly turns out more willing 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 to lavish gifts than you are to accept them. This is Jesus' joy and his glory. So in these springtimes we find our growth in begging "to be glad and rejoice intensely" not because of the great go6ds God is bestowing on us, but "because of the great joy and the glory of Christ our Lord." A Simple Matter of Moving Along Understand, the Four Weeks are not epigenetic stages that build one on another in succession, with the latest stage transmuting the earlier ones. This is the model used by Erik Erikson and the growth psychologists, and it is not appropriate here. The "seasons" mean something much simpler here. Nor does the word refer to an account of the adult life cycle, the "seasons. of a person's life" devised by Daniel Levinson and his colleagues. The "seasons" here are briefer and include not only internal dynamics but also the actuali-ties of your life world. As phases or stages, they would hardly be long-term and do not name permanent changes in the self. Think of it this way: Many skilled retreat directors begin an eight-day retreat by asking the retreatant what Week they are living. The retreat guide does not imply that the retreatant is going through a life cycle or.a phase with permanent effects--nothing so essential and long-range. The implica-tion is that we all go through certain seasoris and that we can usefully think of those seasons in terms of the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises. Many who have made the Spiritual Exercises yearn to keep the sense of progress and of forward motion that sustained them through the long days or months of prayer. They can help themselves do that by continuing one exer-cise that promoted that sense of progress during the Exercises: the preparato-ry prayer. Even those who turn to the Church's lectionary for the material of daily meditation or contemplation can ask for the special grace of the season they are in. They feel no unease or contradiction. On the contrary, they have a sense of familiarity and consonance, and a sense of getting on with life and with prayer. Few of us feel inclined to go back through the prayer texts and cycles of the Four Weeks, particularly over and over again. But you might find it useful to keep mindful of the special graces of the Weeks, and of the preparatory prayer. Re-creating Religious Life Joel Giallanza, C S. C Brother Joel recently completed his service in the ministry of provincial administra-tion and is currently Adjunct Retreat Director at Maryhill Renewal Center. His address is Maryhill Renewal Center; 600 Maryhill Road; Pineville, Louisiana 71360. /'~mong the principal tasks confronting religious life as the twenty-first cen-tury approaches is refoundation or, more descriptively, re-creation. While religious may not be completely comfortable with the demographics of increasing ages and decreasing numbers, they do not appear discouraged or despairing about the future: In fact, some communities have been reporting a modest and consistent increase in vocations and new apostolic ventures. Chapters, assemblies, and other gatherings of religious continue to search for the most effective means of responding to the needs of the Church and the culture in which they live. Among those means they assign high priority to ~'efounding or re-creating religious life itself. To that end, religious have explored the !ives and teachings of their founders and foundresses as well as the experiences and events which shaped the darly years of their communi-ties. The work now is to interpret those lives, teachings, experiences, and events for further practical application to contemporary religious life. The work now is to prepare for the future. Any creation, by its very nature, does not follow a predetermined blueprint. Nevertheless, there is one primordial model we can consider: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." These reflections will focus on the first three days of creation as a metaphor for the re-creation which religious need to undertake as they move toward and into the twenty-first century. In the Beginning During the first three days of creation, as Genesis relates the story, God 649 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 separates creation, giving each part a distinct identity. Only after this funda-mental work of separation and identification does God begin the cultivation of creation, filling it with a rich variety of living things, culminating in the appearance of humanity. Day 1 ~ Observation In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, covered in darkness; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day (Gn 1:1-5). It is intriguing that, after the heavens and the earth, light is God's first creation. Light enables us to observe and to distinguish; light enables us to see what needs to be done. God was present and active, though creation was covered in darkness. The creation of light makes observation and identifica-tion possible. Thus, light is distinguished from darkness; the former is iden-tified as day, the latter as night. Re-creating religious life involves observation. Religious must look courageously and see clearly the quality of every aspect of their lives and then distinguish between what will enhance that quality and what will not. To some degree this self-observation has been going on as religious respond-ed to the Church's call to read the signs of the times. However, with chang-ing demographics and subsequent adjustments to communal life and institutional commitments, religious need to refresh their response to this call and examine their lives yet more closely. In recent years apostolic religious life has known what it is to be "with-out form and void, covered in darkness." Some of this experience stems from the demographics and economics which have signaled the significant change--if not the death--of the religious life of twenty-five years ago. Some stems from the communal, ministerial, and structural implications of those demographics and economics. Some stems from modifications which religious themselves initiated through the process of'revising their constitu-tions and the traditional practices of their personal and communal lives. The ways in which religious live and minister and organize their congregations have changed and no doubt will continue to do so. Clearly, religious life has responsed to the Church and the cultures in which it witnesses. That religious life has undergone change is by itself no indication that nothing further need be done. Could the formlessness, emptiness, and dark- Re-creating Religious Life / 65'1 ness which religious sometimes feel about their way of life be the result of not observing areas needing yet further clarification and identification? These observations of mine focus on one area central to the lives of apostolic religious: celibate community. There is an asceticism inherent in any way of life in which two or more individuals have committed themselves to one another. Principally, that asceti-cism involves maintaining the common good over personal preferences. The acceptance of such an asceticism is essential to a healthy marriage and family life and to a healthy celibate community. Without that asceticism, the basic mutuality of the commitment begins to erode, and eventually the passion and dynamism within the relationships dissipate, then disappear altogether. If we observe the quality of our celibate community life over recent years, we have to ask whether there are times when consecrated commitment degenerates into corporate complacency. This is not to imply that religious have lost the ability to live community. Rather, it asks whether we have suf-ficiently explored other models of living a celibate communal lifestyle with-in the heritage and tradition of our congregations. Frequently in the past, community "happened" in a relatively large resi-dence associated with a congregational ministry. The daily schedules and general patterns of life within the community were much influenced by the needs of the ministry. Generally, those schedules and patterns reflected and were consistent with individuals' expectations. As ministry diversified (and individualized) during the last twenty-five years, expectations also diversi-fied. Common schedules and patterns became less possible and less realistic, given the broad spectrum of responsibilities and time commitments of local community members. Unless those expectations are observed, articulated, and modified as necessary, particularly in residences originally associated with a single ministry, those members unable to be present at certain times and events can be branded as having lost their sensitivity to or even their appreciation of the value of community. The ways in which expectations are lived are not solely internal; others observe how we live together, for better or for worse. Coworkers and other associates shape their perception and understanding of religious life by the pattern and quality of life they observe among us. Though we cannot live our lives in slavery to the multiple, diverse, and often inconsistent expecta-tions and assumptions with which others characterize us, we should not for-get that religious life is a form of witness to the Church and the culture. It bears a responsibility to be a living example of the Gospel and a working model of Jesus' mission. We need to observe our life as celibate community with a probing and 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 questioning eye. Are our communities prayerful, hospitable, and happy? Do we take individual and collective responsibility for the house in which we reside? In our communities, can we comfortably and frequently discuss the Gospel, faith, and religious life? Do we invite and welcomethose consider-ing religious life? Do we enjoy one another? Do we know one another? Do we live our life together with passion? Day 2 -- Separation God said, "Let there be a space between the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters." God made the space and separated the waters which were under the space from the waters which were above it. And it was so.And God,called the space Heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day (Gn 1:6-8). With the dawn of the second day, God begins to put order into creation. Specifically, he makes some working room, so to speak, space in which to continue and complete the work of creation. If the first day emphasized observation and identification, then this second day emphasizes separation and distinction. Re-creating religious life involves separation. In recent years religious have spoken and written much about the need for continuing renewal. Chapters and other gatherings have focused extensively, and sometimes exclusively, on the renewal and refoundation necessary for religious life to be a continuing evangelical and apostolic force. Chapter documentation often remains disembodied as the demands of ministry and the routines of daily life reassert themselves after the chapter closes. Patterns of life change neither quickly nor easily. Regardless of how sublime and profound chapter proceedings may be, we will never effectively legislate renewal and refoun-dation. We must provide space for patterns of individual and communal life to be re-created. For celibate community, the observation and articulation of differing and conflicting expectations may suggest creating some new space. Can quality of life be sustained and intensified if those expectations are left to coexist without enough space for coordination? But, on the other hand, if coordina-tion becomes synonymous with the lowest common denominator, is the effort to provide such space worthwhile at all? Sometimes, no doubt, coordi-nation will bring about re-creation, but this does not seem to be the normal pattern; more often than not, re-creation by separation should be considered. Separation will involve establishing new local communities. Alternative housing could be provided for members who are committed to exploring and implementing a communal lifestyle that will meet their expectations and Re-creating Religious Life / 653 maintain a consistency and an integrity which reflect clearly their commit-ment as religious. The assumption here is that such alternative communities would be established with the highest common denominator as the standard. Prayer and relationships and the practice of the vows would be regularly reviewed to assure that standard. Separation is not schism, it is not a condemnation of other communal lifestyles within a congregation. Twenty-five years ago it was possible to find striking, and even exact, parallels throughout the local communities of a sin-gle congregation. Often those parallels were evident among many congrega-tions, also. Today, even between large local communities of the same congregation, we can find striking differences. Separation has to do with dis-tinction, not division. It seeks to express the rich diversity of ways in which a congregational heritage can be embodied among those committed to it. Major superiors have a significant role in this, a multifaceted role. First, they can take the initiative of identifying people and providing resources for new ventures even if the original initiativecame from community members themselves. The major superiors' involvement could signal the validity of the venture for those whose first reaction is critical. Second, major superiors can offer their support, encouragement, and assistance as new communities get underway. When some "red tape" needs cutting or some bureaucratic procedure needs streamlining, they are usually in a privileged position for expediting whatever needs to be done. Third, they can serve as initial observers and objective consultants for new local communities, Their role is not to mold groups into their own image and likeness, but to see that the members remain faithful to the principles and practices they have agreed upon for their life together. Finally, major superiors can be a buffer between nascent local communities and the established community. Not everyone in the latter group will agree with new ventures and the direction they repre-sent. Major superiors should avoid any defensive posture which would make the new communities look like aberrations in the eyes of the established community. They should focus their explanations about these ventures on their continuity with the congregational heritage. Separation is a means of re-creating celibate community; it is an invest-ment in the future. No doubt there are risks involved, but the prophetic nature of religious life has always placed religious in precarious situations. The risks are a challenge to acknowledge God's providential presence and activity. As religious we must reaffirm our faith in providence and move boldly into the future. Without faith, we undermine the very foundation of our religious life; without movement, we betray any assurance we profess to have about the future. 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 The future will come, but not in a vacuum. The choices we make now will determine the quality of that future. In making those choices, we need to create a fresh space, to provide a place for the future. Day 3 -- Cultivation God said, "Let the waters under the heavens be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. God said, "Let the earth produce growing things, plants bearing seed, and fruit trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind, upon the earth." And it was so. The earth produced vegetation, plants bearing seed according to their own kinds, and trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, a third day (Gn 1:9-13). The third day brings cultivation to what has been created. With the emergence of land, "growing things" can appear; each of these growing things contains individuality and generativity. Life--and all of creation-- will continue; there will be another day. "And God saw that it was good." With this third day, God has completed the foundation for what will appear on the succeeding days of creation. And the foundation was good. Re-creating religious life involves cultivation. The future quality of celi-bate community will not appear by spontaneous generation, nor will it be manufactured according to elaborate specifications. It must be cultivated. Establishing new local communities does not signal the dawn of the seventh day; it is not the time to rest and lay aside further efforts. Quite the contrary, it is the time to move forward enthusiastically and confidently with every-thing that has been initiated thus far. This is the time for "growing things?' The root of the word cultivate is a term which can be translated "to move around" and "to dwell," depending upon the context. This dual ety-mology is quite appropriate for these present reflections. Cultivating celibate community requires some moving around. Community compromises vitality if it stops moving according to its own informed choices; that is, if it begins to operate on automatic pilot. Vitality springs from the continuing observa-tion and articulation of expectations. Patterns of personal and communal life must be mutually monitored with integrity and without fear of reprisal. Relationships must be nurtured naturally With quality time and refreshed regularly through reconciliation. Cultivation assumes that expectations and patterns and relationships will evolve. Cultivation flourishes in an environ-ment of exchange, interest, care, and concern. Cultivation moves around Re-creating Religious Life / 655 within and among community members to prevent that stagnation which taxes commitment and tempts to convenience. Cultivating celibate community requires some dwelling. Cohabitation is not celibate community; it merely means that two or more people inhabit the same residential space and need not involve any interpersonal commitment. Dwelling goes beyond living together to include entrusting our lives to one another. If we do not have mutual trust with those with whom we live, then what grounds do we have for claiming we entrust our lives to the Lord? It is a basic tenet of faith that the quality of our relationships with one another verifies or falsifies the quality of our relationship with the Lord. Truly dwelling with one another, recognizing that our life together makes a home of the house, is a certification of our love relationship with one another and with the Lord, and a witness of integrity to others. There is no flawless formula for assuring cultivation; it involves all the effort, discipline, and asceticism requisite for any healthy relationship. There are, however, some principles which can support that effort, discipline, and asceticism. First, clarity of vision: Members must have a sense of the direction in which they hope the community to move. More than an in-house conve-nience, that vision is part of the apostolic character of celibate community. Second, communication of values: A common vision is built upon shared values. Without this sharing, there is little common ground to cultivate; com-munity quickly becomes an arid land. Third, cooperation for vitality: This is a discipline and an asceticism which positions the common good as the high-est priority. The vitality of vision and values can be cultivated only coopera-tively; it cannot be assumed. Fourth, concern for vocation: This is the foundational principle. Vision and values have no vital and substantive pur-pose and meaning unless community members share a sincere concern for the integrity of their commitment to the vocation of religious life. In practice, these principles are skrategies which must characterize the re-creation of celibate community. Cultivation is a daily enterprise which will mark the presence and activity of community members with one anoth-er. Thus, cultivation never comes to a point of sufficiency, beyond which no further efforts are necessary. There will always be both peaks and plateaus in the quality of life within any community. The principles of clarity, communi-cation, cooperation, and concern are reminders that neither the peaks nor the plateaus are places of permanence. We must cultivate celibate community if it is to have a prophetic place in the future and even if it is to have a future at all. We must cultivate it since the culture will not support it. We live in a culture whose materialistic, indi- 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 vidualistic, and sensualistic preferences and practices have compromised its capability for fostering the personal commitment which lies at the heart of both celibacy and community. The decline of marriage and the family is but one testimony to that compromise. Celibate community can stand as a prophetic sign that such a commitment is humanly possible. For the future, that sign may be the small seed which is cultivated into the means of trans-formation for the entire culture. In the Days to Come "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." As the story is presented, nothing existed before God began his creative work. Everything could be made as an original, without the pressing and pressuring influence of a long-standing tradition. God could, so to speak, work from scratch. Re-creating religious life, and celibate 'community in particular, cannot assume the absence of any influence. There are values and traditions and practices by which communal religious life has endured and prospe,red over the cen-turies. The observation, separation, and cultivation which will position reli-gious life for re-creation cannot dismiss that influence as unnecessary, nor distance it as untouchable. The influence of those realities which have shaped religious life can be incorporated and assimilated into the re-creation; thus will be their creative transformation. Admittedly, some refinement may be necessary to preserve the spirit of those values, traditions, and practices. Nevertheless, such refinement is not a ruling of inadequacy, but a rendering unto new life. In the days to come we must observe closely the ways and means of our religious life together. We need to articulate clearly and forcefully the values by which we will actually live.Prophetic statements from individuals or chapters or other gatherings that remain forever disembodied phrases will never be true characterizations of religious life. Indeed, they can become pharisaical, lofty ideals without living intent. Observation, as I have used the term, has more to do with enacting motivation than with simply gathering information. In the days to come we must separate ourselves from whatever patterns of life have compromised or constricted our desire and ability to live our religious commitment with intensity and integrity. We must re-create the spirit of being called, of being set apart for the Gospel. Without that spirit, the prophetic prowess of religious life is neither affectively experienced nor effectively expressed. Within that spirit, religious life claims the power and proclamation which are the inheritance of Gospel witnesses. In the days to come we must cultivate our life together. We need to re- Re-creat.ing Religious Life / 657 create the commitment we have made to God and to one another. We have at our disposal a power for and a promise of common life that can bring hope to a world broken by betrayal, gouged by greed, and disheartened by deceit. The passion with which we live our celibacy, poverty, and obedience will counteract the standards set by that betrayal, greed, and deceit. The convic-tion with which we re-create and realize our communal life will cultivate and confirm the presence and activity of the kingdom within and around us. "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." This is an old story, but one that may be enacted once again as religious life approaches the twenty-first century. Observation, separation, and cultivation are strategies which can support the work of re-creation; and yet we should never displace the fundamental truth that this is God's work, all is grace. The alliance between those strategies and that grace will enable us to speak of religious life and of celibate community with the same bold confidence which marked Yahweh's promise for the temple. "The Lord Almighty speaks: 'Is there any-one among you who can still remember how splendid the temple used to be? How does it look to you now? It must seem like nothing at all. But now do not be discouraged, any of you. Do the work that is needed, for I am with you, so do not be afraid . In the_days to come the new temple will be more splendid than the old one, and there I will give you prosperity and peace' " (Hg 2:3-4, 9). To the Bird of My Prayer Songster, your hymn of praise Never ceases in a melody all your own; Chanting a song--pleading, thanking-- With the sheer joy of having voice to sing. From highest pole to roof, you find your perch, No earth-bound bush can stifle flight to God. Anna Louise Staub, S.S.J. 217 W. Commercial St. East Rochester, NY 14445 Prophetic Witness in Contemporary Religious Life Jean Steffes, CSA: Sister Jean Steffes has been general superior for the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Agnes. Her address is: 427 Gillett Street; Fond du Lac, Wisconsin 54935-4598. The notion of being prophetic in today's society can conjure up many images in us, depending upon our perspective. For some of us being prophetic might seem a quality to be admired in Dorothy Day, Archbishop Romero, the martyred Jesuits of El Salvador, and the Agnesians Maureen and Teresa of Nicaragua, but one to which we could never aspire. It wo~ld mean speaking, acting, or giving witness in larger-than-life situations that may never be the platform for most of us. Another perspective might give rise to images of angry demonstrations directed at society and culture or at our Church. The call for greater inclusion of women in roles in Church and society, for the right to life of the unborn, the unwanted, and the elderly, and for the preservation of our environment can result in tactics that seem or are angry. For those who shrink from such approaches, even the very valid and necessary content can be lost. A third image of the prophet (which we may enjoy) is of one who foretells the future. In our society there are those who use past patterns to predict our economy's collapse or other dire conse-quences. For those of us who live a Gospel faith, such prophets do not give the hope so necessary to engage in present realities and so make the world a better place here and now. The images I have shared are overdrawn stereotypes, but they show the difficulty in speaking on the topic of prophetic wit]aess. In this reflection I will explore three broad areas: (1) What does it mean to be prophetic? (2) prophetic witness and the current experience of religious life: (3) an agenda for the future. 658 Prophetic Witness / 659 What Does It Mean to be Prophetic? Walter Brueggemann says in The Prophetic Imagination, "The time may be ripe in the church for a serious consideration of prophecy as a crucial ele-ment in ministry."~ Prophets understood how change is effected. They knew the power of language, how to "evoke newness, 'fresh from the word.' ,,2 Let us develop at some length Brueggemann's ideas of prophecy. He states, "The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the domi-nant culture around us . ,,3 I believe his approach can help us understand prophetic witness as it applies to the goals and meaning of religious life. Beginning with the story of Moses, we can learn what it means to form an alternative community. The story of the Exodus shows us how Moses and the Israelite people were brought out from their domination by an imperial religion and the politics of oppression and exploitation. The religion and pol-itics of Pharaoh worked hand in hand to keep him in power and control. Through the interaction of Moses and Aaron with Pharaoh and his regime, the Israelites began to see the difference between the freedom of God and the lack of freedom of the Egyptian gods. Belief in the Egyptian gods served to maintain a social order that allowed for oppression and exploitation. The God revealed to the Israelites is tied to no social order. God is a God of free-dom who calls for an alternative community built on the politics of justice and compassion. The alternative consciousness that Moses fostered in the Israelites was both critical and energizing. His critique, validated when the Egyptians were struck by plagues which their gods were powerless to counter, showed up false claims to power and authority which could not keep promises in the face of the free God. Prophetic criticism has an element of grieving in it as the prophet mourns the oppressions encountered. The Israelites were afflict-ed, oppressed, and ground down by the dominant Egyptian culture, and so they risked the freedom of the free God against the regime. The energizing happened not through what the Israelites already possessed but through what was promised. God went before them in pillars of fire and cloud and trans-figured this fear into energy. The people were energized to follow the free God to establish an alternative community built on justice and compassion. Though the Israelites left Egypt to live more freely, they, too, eventually developed a dominant culture. It was characterized by the reign of Solomon, whose whole achievement appears to have had the self-serving purpose of securing the place of the king and king's dynasty. Solomon did not welcome the ideas of a free God and an alternative community any more than did Pharaoh, for they threatened the established order. There were three bases 660 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 for Solomon's rule that generally mark any dominant culture. First, there was incredible well-being and affluence, though it was not equitably shared. Some went without enough so that others might have too much. Second, an oppressive social policy sustained the standard of living. There was a system of forced labor in which laborers met the needs of the state although unable to meet their own needs. The politics of justice and compassion disappeared, and the order of the state became the overriding agenda. Third, there was the establishment of a controlled and static religion. God and God's temple became part of the royal landscape. How could God, seen as living in a house provided by the king, say anything critical or abrasive? Solomon was countering the counterculture of Moses: the economics of equality was countered with the economics of affluence, the politics of justice with the politics of oppression, and the religion of God's freedom with the religion of God's accessibility. The dominant culture of Solomon managed to brush aside Moses' vision. The gift of freedom was taken over by the yearning for order, and the human agenda of justice was used for security. Against reali-ties like these, people are called to utter prophetic words. Moses both criticized and energized. Like him, Jeremiah is shown as proclaiming the critique while Second Isaiah offers the energy for the new vision. The prophets offer symbols that contradict a situation of hopelessness and give public expression to long-unspoken fears and hopes. They show us that the dominant culture leads people to despair of new life. They present an alternative consciousness, grounded in the unwavering faithfulness of God, that can energize the community to new forms of faithfulness and vital-ity. Jesus, too, is shown as a prophet who criticized the dominant culture of his day. "Jesus is remembered and presented by the early Church as the faithful embodiment of an alternative consciousness.''4 Jesus' ministry and death oppose the politics of oppression with the politics of justice and com-passion. The counterpart to the crucifixion is the birth of a new reality that finds full expression in the resurrection. What does this very challenging reflection on prophets and prophetic consciousness have to say to us in religious life? What is apostolic religious life's prophetic role in church and society today? It is important to reflect on this, recognizing that we have generous portions of both dominant culture and alternative consciousness within us. We recognize our conflicted nature, yet we aspire to a prophetic role in church and society. We must ask, then, whether apostolic women religious have been co-opted by our dominant consumer culture or whether we manifest an alterna-tive consciousness based on the freedom of a free God. Do we show a belief in community and interdependence as inherent in our way of life, or are we Prophetic Witness / 66'1 fragmented and self-centered? Are we motivated by a desire for justice and compassion, or do we prefer stability even at the price of the exploitation and oppression of "invisible" others? The questions are hard but necessary as we examine the religious way of life for evidence of prophetic witness. Prophetic Witness and the Current Experience of Religious Life Our challenge as women religious is to position ourselves to recognize the revelation of the future. One current writer, Mary Jo Leddy, N.D.S., speaks of the need to develop a postliberal model of religious life. Her thesis is that the basis for our contemporary religious life in North America is a declining culture that depends on the liberal thought fed by industrial capi-talism. While liberalism has made many contributions to modern society, it cannot deal with the reality of limits. If there can be no limits, ultimately there can be no meaning or values. Liberals tend to see themselves as contemporary or progressive and in conflict with the conservative or traditionalist ideas of Church and religious life. In Leddy's view, the more serious obstacle to the transformation and renewal of religious life results from the tension between the liberal and the prophetic approaches. The prophetic leads us to a more radical response in spirituality, mission, ministry, and community. The prophetic is risky, for it calls us to response to an unknown future rather than reaction to a no-longer-valid past. Leddy says, "We who live in a disintegrating empire today are summoned at prophetic moments to criticize the patterns of decline within our culture and within ourselves, to contemplate the holiness of God in the midst of these dark times, and to evoke the creative desire in one another for a meaningful alternative for the future.''5 These words are very similar to those Brueggemann uses to describe the prophetic imagination. The prophetic intersects with our apostolic religious life. Contemporary writers call religious to the same challenge the prophets faced in biblical times. Religious congregatiohs represent an alternative to the values of the dominant culture but do not stand apart from the people. Rather, apostolic religious recognize clearly the need for reflection, discernment, and a ground-ing in the holy as they criticize, yet energize, themselves and their peers to bring the values of the Gospel into contemporary society and culture. We have reflected on what it means to be a prophet. We have also recog-nized the challenge it presents to apostolic religious. Let us now look at cur-rent beliefs and responses regarding apostolic religious life in light of prophetic witness. I will consider mission direction, the meaning of member-ship, and some current realities. These areas provide us with the material to critique and energize our own prophetic potential. 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Mission Direction Although expressed differently in each congregation, mission direction today involves in some way a commitment to transformation of the world, the Church, and ourselves through promoting systemic change for the quali-ty of life; justice for the economically poor; furtherance of the role of women in church and society; and mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all relationships. Such mission direction clearly reminds us of our partici-pation in the mission of Jesus. When we call ourselves to systemic change for the quality of life, what do we mean? We are asking for two things, systemic change and quality of life. When we say the system is not working well, how do we want to change it so it will work better? For whom do we want it to work better? If we take a global view, we see that entirely too much of the world's popula-tion is forced to live at a level that does not meet its basic needs of food, shelter, health care, and education while a minority has more than its share. We see that, in order to feed the wants and needs of a market economy, rain forests are irrevocably destroyed, topsoil is depleted, deserts are expanded mercilessly, and the world's fresh-water supply is tainted and diminished. On local and national levels we 'must ask ourselves how the needs of the poor are being met. After all, Jesus was clear in showing us that whatever we do to the least of his people we are doing to him. The poor are receiving poorer education, less nourishing food, substandard or no housing, and inad-equate health care in this country so rich in resources and technology. We must use our ingenuity, gifts, and talents to change a system that has canonized greed and competition in order to satisfy wants. How can we in our own daily living point the way to change that would benefit those with least access to the system without denying the legitimate gains and goods of our society and culture? Such responses as simplifying our lifestyle by avoiding use of Styrofoam, recycling our disposables, and making thought-ful choices regarding food and other consumer goods can raise our con-sciousness and lead us to getting others involved and to networking with those already involved. Indeed, most changes begin as ordinary people change their thinking and the patterns that go with their thinking. We must know our values so that they, rather than the manipulative marketing of an over- consumptive dominant culture, will shape our choices and responses. We claim that we want justice for the economically poor. This value links with the goal of systemic change for the quality of life. Jesus' life and ministry showed us his love of preference for the poor. This is not to say that Jesus does not love all, but that his ministry was not directed in the main to those who were the power brokers of his day. These, of course, he invited to Prophetic Witness / 663 join him in loving God and neighbor, but the cost was generosity, sharing their possessions. Jesus was good news for the poor. Are we who are called to continue Jesus' mission also good news for the poor? Whether in direct service So the poor or in ministry with middle- and upper-middle-class peo-ple, are we focused on a more just distribution of and access to necessary goods and resources? Do we in our teaching and in our healing, pastoral, and social works always have in mind those who are less fortunate than we are? Are we willing ~o call others to this consciousness even when we see and know that the poor are not to be idealized? They, like us, have faults and failings and may not reflect Christ as we might want them to. A reverence for the poor calls us to a view of Christ very different from that of popular piety. While comforting, it is challenging; while open and inviting, it is demanding; and while satisfying, it never ceases to call out for more--more love, more generosity, more hospitality. Not all of us are called to direct ser-vice with the poor, but all of us are called to seek justice for the poor. In this quest we continually recognize that we, too, are among the needy and are enriched by those we serve. Another commitment common to religious is to the furtherance of the role of women in church and society. Worldwide, the conditions of women vary from those in countries where women have legal equality to those where brides are still considered property. Women the world over have the primary responsibility to feed and care for the children even though means and resources are not equitably at their disposal. In the United States a vio-lent crime is committed against a woman every three minutes, and a woman is raped every six minutes. Households headed by women are increasing while the rate of their income is dropping. Children are our most precious resource, but those who care for them are denied the necessary means. Our Church struggles with the role women are to play in its pastoral, liturgical, and philosophical reflections.In the U.S. the most recent draft document on women's role in the Church and society calls for equality for women in theory but holds back in p.ractice. As John XXIII said in Pacem in Terris in 1963, "Since women are becoming ever more conscious of their human dignity, they will not tolerate being treated as inanimate objects or mere instruments, but claim, both in domestic and in public life, the rights and duties that befit a human person.''6 The women's issue is more than an issue, it is a perspective that demands attention and response. Once unleashed, the forces of confusion and dissension drive towards resolution. In our lives we will use inclusive language, advocate for women, and net-work to help make society a friendlier place for women to develop and share their gifts and talents. Despite such a commitment on the part of congrega- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 tions, there is dissension among women religious in language usage and other matters. Our heads and hearts find themselves in conflict here, leading to results that could be less than satisfying. Can we avoid being our own worst enemy in the search for inclusivity? Let us not deny the richness of our past, the demands of the present, or the call of the future as we work for justice and right for women in contemporary society and church. Another area of commitment of apostolic religious today has to do with mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all our relationships. The values implied here are very positive, and yet to achieve them one must give in order to receive. The mystery of sacrifice is contained in these words in a way that is not apparent at first glance. For mutuality to occur, I must not only believe in myself, I must also learn to believe and trust in the other. With whom do we allow ourselves to be mutual? Do we let power, position, language, style of dress, or education prevent us from speaking our truth or hearing that of others? In terms of inclusivity, do we go to the extremes either of having no boundaries or expectations or of expecting everyone to fulfill every role or function in an organization? Inclusivity involves includ-ing others in the concerns affecting their own lives. Not all will do every-thing, but there must be input from those affected. In terms of discernment, though all are included, not all perspectives can be responded to or chosen. We often try to make inclusivity mean pleasing everyone all of the time even though this may be impossible. Finally, let us look at c.ollaboration. If we pull the word apart, we can see the meaning as co-labor or working with. At one time we may have considered ourselves collaborative if we hired lay teachers and nurses and more so if we hired lay administrators. Collaboration at its most radical, however, calls us not just to bring others into our projects and have them do things our way, but to work with others and to respond to the signs and needs of the times together. Unhe.althy com-petition or too rigid control in ministry or community strikes at the heart of the love which binds us together so that the 'risen Christ may be discovered among us and in our world. The Meaning of Membership The consideration of mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration leads us into the meaning of membership. Community life is a topic, issue, and reali-ty that continues to generate much attention. As apostolic religious we have such different experiences, expectations, and definitions regarding commu-nity life and the meaning of local community. Sometimes when the phrase "local community" is used, the assumptions and expectations already in place cause us to "shut down," to become unable to continue a dialogu~ Prophetic Witness because we are really unable to h~ar one another. (I personally have felt anger, despair, defensiveness, longing, fear--and also hope--around this topic.) What has led religious women to this state and what can we do to move beyond shutdown and breakdown to a breakthrough? It is clear that, in this matter, apostolic women religious are striving, striving to understand meaningful bonding and to express it through authentic participation in community. Someone recently said that we may have so emphasized mission and ministry in the years of renewal following Vatican II that c6mmunity has become the shadow side of our way of life. If that is the case, the difficulties surrounding our efforts to deal with community life are deep and profound. We must face and deal with this central area of our way of life so that we are nok torn apart by unclear expectations and assumptions. I offer three perspectives for consideration in the area of community: human-growth issues, the importance of faith community and faith sharing, and l~ousin~ in community. We sometimes get bogged down by human-growth issues in our lives with one another on the local or on the broader community level even though our lived experience points to the need for human growth and development among ourselveg. Each of us knows how difficult it is to change herself and how truly futile it is to expect to change another. Each of us must deal with herself and her own issues in as healthy a fashion as 16ossible. Only when my behaviors and patterng are healthy may I be able to imiarove the dynamics between myself and those with whom I interact on a r~gular basis. The challenge here is to deal with my own behav-iors, realizing that I have no real or lasting power over the behaviors another may choose. My role is to try not to feed into unhealthy behaviors that may be pre.sent around me. Although unatteiaded human-growth issues can wreak havoc on healthy relating within community, still apostolic religious must recognize that we will never overcome all of these problems either individually or corpbrately. Gra~e biailds on nature; it will not replace or deny our humanness. We must realize how eadh sister's desire and motivation influence her choices regard-ing her behavior and interaction. We cannot choose for each other, only for ourselves. Each ~'eligious needs to be challenged to a self-knowledge and self-awareness leading to growth. Practices such as spiritual direction, the annual retreat, and the daily consciousness examen can keep us grounded in reality yet open to ongoing conversion. We must deal with human-growth-and-development issues, but not remain there. We must be committed to the making of or participating in faith community as a means of nurturing shared life, shared love, and shared vision. We must find ways to relate regularly and meaningfully with our sis- 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ters in community in order to reflect on, renew, and recommit ourselves to the mission, charism, and spirit of our congregation in our daily lives. Depending upon our miriistry and the proximity of other congregational members, how we do this will differ; that we must do it if membership is to mean more than an annual touchdown or the reading of congregational mate-rials is the reality we face. Some Current Realities I. recogniz9 that each congregational member will have other communi-ties thai will lay claim to her time, energy, and affection. That is good and healthy. My point is that we must have quality time for our own congrega-tion as well, as part of the ordering rhythm of our lives. Sometimes one's commitment to ministry or to parish can become so all-encompassing that ther~ is. little or no time or energy left for her to express her membership in her religious congregation. For me, the making of faith community involves reverence for one another, presence to one another for celebration as well ag dialogue and reflection, honesty so that we can affirm one another or call each other to growth, and a commitment to the goals and developing agenda of our congregation. This topic of makirig and participating in faith community leads to another important topic: the difference between housing and local communi-ty: We often equaie the two and this ~quation may not reflect that community life is broader than housing. The recent lived reality of women religious shows that faith community on the "local" level is not necessarily synony-mous with where a sister lives. In some locales th~ sisters have committed themselves to hei,ng a faith community without walls; regular meetings, cele-brations, and gatherings among them challenge and deepen their member-ship in the cbngi'egation, in other locales the sisters in a particular house function well as a faith community. We must recognize such differing com-munity realities and encourage them on the local level as well as on the con-gregational level. A commitment to community in our current society of intenge individualism and consumer gratification keeps us involved in a prophetic role. An Agenda for the Future The prophetic nature of this life to which we are called leads us to cob-sider an agenda for~the future. Any living organization must be open to change or it will die. In a sense change is an ordered type of death, not death as final but rather death leading to new life. One of the greatest strengths of apostolic women religious is the serise that the agenda or common goals Prophetic Witness / 667 belong to all of us. This strength we will build on as we look at change and new life for us religious. Central to understanding ourselves as women religious is understanding our spirituality. I believe that the biggest challenge for each of us with regard to spirituality is to lead more integrated lives. Integration does not just hap-pen in a person's life. It must be worked at daily through a continuous blend of action and reflection leading to further action. Somehow the aspects of one's life must be part of a whole rather than segments that do not overlap. In an integrated life my religious commitment is not separate from who I am when I am at leisure. My response in mission and ministry is not limited to my paid professional work but may overlap into volunteer involvements in food pantries, visiting the sick or elderly, letter writing, and other activities. Community life is not an end in itself in an apostolic religious institute, nor is it merely a refuge that ought to be there when I want and need it. Community is a place or space where I share faith and vision, humanness, and the quest for the divine. My ministry is not all-consuming; I do allow myself necessary time for recreation and reflection. And my prayer life is more than specified exercises or spiritual reading. All these somehow fit together and reflect my spirituality, my integration of life. An integrated life has powerful witness value in a society that wants everything and does not want to be reminded of the need for balance. Integration is not synonymous with transformation, but it can surely open us to being transforming elements in the institutions and structures of society and culture. In our desire to be prophetic witnesses, we commit our-selves to transformation of the Church, the world, and ourselves~ I recently read that one way of understanding transformation is to look at the life cycle of the butterfly. First there is a caterpillar; next there is the chrysalis stage, in which the organic matter is quite shapeless and formless; finally, there is the butterfly. Transformation is what happens in the chrysalis stage. The process is not very appealing; it suggests a profound letting go as well as an openness to a different future. While transformation has global ramifications, it will not begin at the global level but rather at the local level, where we can encourage one anoth-er to let go of attitudes or practices that may have been more helpful to a known and comfortable past than to the needs of the present or the concerns of the future. The desire for transformation of the world, the Church and our-selves flows directly from our relationship to God, self, others, and creation. It is expressed in a commitment to justice, peace, and the integrity of cre-ation. Transformation is not something anyone can directly make happen by willing it. No one person caused the recent freedom movement in Eastern 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Europe, nor can one individual move our economy from a military focus to a domestic and global focus responding to human and planetary needs in a humane fashion. Likewise, no ond person's recycling of materials will reverse our problem with excessive waste. Yet all of these and many other alternative responses can indeed lead to transformation. When such respons-es begin, networking or replicating starts to happen and systems begin to change. At the May 1990 meeting of the council of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) in Rome, the following global challenges to evan-gelization were identified: the widening gap between the rich and poor; indi-vidualism characterized by greed, violence, terrorism, abandonment, indifference, and irresponsibility; loss of human dignity through political oppression, social discrimination, and economic injustice; the breakdown of family life; the destruction of the environment; inability to trust the human community, coupled with a preoccupation with survival. These challenges help us to formulate an agenda for transformation that is larger than ourselves, and they clearly link with the transformative ele-ments for religious life in the future developed by the major superiors of U.S. women's and men's communities (LCWR/CMSM) in August 1989: prophetic witness; contemplative attitude toward life; poor and marginalized persons as the focus for ministry; spirituality of wholeness and global inter-connectedness; charism and mission as sources of identity; change of the locus of power; living with less; broad-based inclusive communities; under-standing ourselves as Church; and developing interdependence among peo-ple of diverse cultures. These challenges and transformative elements reflect in broad strokes the goals and concerns ofapostolic religious. Though the future depends in part upon us and our efforts, it depends even more on the grace of God our Creator, the inspiration of the Spirit, and our cooperation with each other as members of the body of Christ, joined in a common humanity and gifted with a common creation. Our communion with and in Christ calls all humanity "to reclaim relationships with family, clan, and tribe, to choose the common good, to seek solidarity with one another and with the earth.''7 For transformation to occur, we must believe and act in such a way that we give the message that life has meaning and that, assisted by God's grace, our responses make a difference. The prophetic imagination described by Brueggemann remains viable as we respond in our own times with an alter-native consciousness, as we critique our dominant culture and yet energize one another for a more just and compassionate future. Our faith gives us the vision and the mission, our hope gives us spirit and energy, and our love Prophetic Witness / 669 grounds us in the mysterious blend of transcendence and immanence that is life. I close this reflection on prophetic witness and apostolic religious life with Isaiah's words: "Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Is 43:18-19). NOTES I Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 9. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 13. 4 Ibid, p. 88. 5 Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990), p. 164. 6 John XXIII, Pacem In Terris, in Seven Great Encyclicals (Glen Rock, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1963), p. 297. 7 Helen Maher Garvey, B.V.M., excerpt from notes on the Meeting of the General Council, UISG, Rome, Italy, May 7-11, 1990, p. 2. Storms Tornado watch, the weatherman said, to last until ten o'clock. Four hours to wait for what may be or not. Storms of spirit come suddenly; swirl through the heart's towns and wash its skies to morning clean-- with no hours to wait for what so swiftly is. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pa. 19136 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person: Which Comes First in Apostolic Institutes? Marie Therese Levey, R.S.~. Sister Marie Therese has taught school in country areas of Australia. Later she spe-cialized in teaching instrumental music: piano and violin. More recently she has done research in liturgical music and earned a Ph.D. Her address is St. Joseph's Convent; P.O. Box 472; North Sydney, N.S.W. 2059; Australia. In May/June 1988 this joumal published Sister Georgine Scarpino's article "The Unemployed Sister: Challenge and Opportunity." It defines the unem-ployed sister as a woman religious physically and emotionally capable of active ministry who, despite seeking work, currently has no formal position. It gives two causes for this modem phenomenon: the location of the work and the way ministry decisions are made. In summary, Sister Georgine points out the need for congregations of women religious to develop programs within religious institutes to address both employment and unemployment. Surprisingly, no published response has followed her article until now. Since women religious have sacrificed potential material wealth, marriage, and motherhood in order to serve the Church in institutes devoted to apos-tolic works, it seems unjtist that the situations described occur. However, occur they do, and the first step toward rectifying the problems is to admit them. One then asks why they exist and seeks an appropriate cure. Sister Georgine presents causes of these problems in the United States. Although here in Australia there are general parallels to what she describes, yet the causes and thus the cures seem somewhat different here. The present writer has, in religious life, personally experienced "job search" and the special type of demoralization which occurs in close-knit communities when one is the "odd man out." I thus feel equipped to write on this subject. Regardless of the differences between countries in reasons for the phe-nomenon of the unemployed sister, I believe that the two elements most 670 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 671 needed in addressing the problem of appropriate placement in apostolic works of religious personnel in institutes of consecrated life are: (l) a correct balance in religious leaders between their attitudes towards responsibility for the institute's authentic mission and their attitudes towards the rights of the individual members; (2) adequate use of written media, particularly those which are internal to the religious institutes and which include forums for peer review and the opportunity for subjects to respectfully challenge those directives or oversights of superiors which seem to threaten the authentic mission of the institute or the rights of its members. Mission and Person The religious state belongs to the life and holiness of the Church (canon 574), and the primary mission of the Church is the care of souls. Ecclesiastical law insists that apostolic action for institutes of consecrated life should confirm and foster union with God (c. 675, §2). The Church has Msb a social mission, namely, to support and protect people's material well-being and to inspire and promote true civilization through Christian philoso-phy. 1 In the social category of mission can be placed the apostolic pati'imony of many institutes, and the Church insists that such patrimony, or intentions of the founder, should be.preserved by the institute (c. 578). Thus, leaders of institutes of consecrated life f6unded for apostolic works, in order to justify their ongoing existence and their acceptance of candidates, need to ensure that both the corporate entity and the individual members have a correct con-cept of this patrimony as well as machinery to implement it. Bearing in mind that the Church places the person at the center of the social order, religious leaders have a r~sponsibility to see that members of the institute are placed in apostolic works which are appropriate to the tal-ents and needs of each (see Perfectae Caritatis 18). The pastoral commit-ment of a leader in an apostolic institute does not remove--but, rather, ¯ increases--her obligation towards seeing to appropriate placement of per-sonnel. Although religious leaders nowadays delegate administrators for works for which members of their institute are the trustees, a large part of the responsibility of preventing serious damage to the person through long-term lack of appropriate apostolic work must lie, by the nature of their role, with the religious leaders. Moreover, the responsibilities leaders have to individtial persons within the institute vary according to how long and in what manner they have contributed to the institute (see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1989, p. 460). Since it is often claimed that consecrated religious are in short supply, the application of the above principles might seem straightforward. In reality 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 there are circumstances in the modem world in general, and here in Australia in particular, which cause it to be very difficult for congregational leaders. As in the United States, the location of the work in Australia affects the opportunity to do it, and the way ministry decisions are made in America has parallels h~re. Some details may clarify the differences between practices in the two countries. Conditions in Australia Prior to Vatican II, the missioning procedures in Australian apostolic religious congregations were relatively simple. Obedience, or the will of God, was equa~ed with doing what a superior told one to do and living where the superior told one to live. In larger Australian congregations, (over 1,000 members) often more than half were primary school teachers, and a large proportion of the remainder were either secondary teachers or nurses. Changes of residence for those "in the ranks" usually involved interchange between personnel engaged in similar works. This principle of interchange was fundamental to the smooth application of the third vow. When a difficult posting was required--for example, to isolated rural areas--younger reli-gious under perpetual vows were usually sent. Postings to apostolic works almost invariably came directly from a major superior, whether or not that superior's apostoli~c background was in the relevant work. Recruitment of staff for a school or a hospital by an administrator, or board, was foreign to most Australian apostolic religious congregations of women prior to about 1960, whether the mission was in the city or in the country. In the early 1960s a radical change occurred in the overall secondary education system in the most populous state of Australia, New South Wales. That change to what was called the Wyndham System, emphasizing science and the arts, was much more revolutionary in Catholic education for girls than it was either in state education or in Catholic education for boys. In the typical local Catholic school run by consecrated religioi~s women in Australia before that time, the girls remained in the same school, almost entirely staffed by r(ligious, from kindergarten through secondary school years. In state education and in Catholic education for boys, secondary schools were already separated at least from lower primary schools. Thus, state-school teachers and men religious in secondary education had been required to have university degrees before some larger institutes of w~men religious recognized such a need. When the more farsighted Catholic educa-tors pointed out that it would now be a problem to provide adequate sec-ondary education for the girls of less well-off families in local pa~:ish schools, some congregations saw in their higher grades a source of more Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 673 thoroughly trained religious personnel. That vain hope made difficulties in long-term planning for the transition from religious to lay staff. A further dramatic change in Australian education, which was to affect all ministries, occurred in the early 1970s. After a break of twenty years, the Australian Labor Party, headed by Prime Minister Gough Whitlam, was elected to govern the country. One of its earliest reforms was to make uni-versity education free. Although some criticized the extraordinary cost this was to the nation, the move brought the opportunity for tertiary education to the masses. Before that time, university education had been for the fortunate and the chosen. Now the initiative for tertiary education was up to the indi-vidual. The suc.c~'ss achieved by some "late starters," many in their forties and fifties, revealed how much talent had previously been unused. From about 1975, attitudes within religious congregations changed for both superi-ors and subjects. Superiors began to listen more attentively to those who did well in their tertiary studies, and subjects found their personal confidence and self-esteem strengthened by their academic achievement. With the advances made in the study of theology and the social sciences, it is now rarel~ pretended that apostolic religious life is simple, or that doing the will of God is always as clear-cut as that decided by another human being alone, whether or not that person h.appens to be a religious superior. Because of the broader scope of ministries open to women religious, modem specialization, and improved administrative techniques, the principle of interchange among personnel--which for many years had been integral to the practice of the third vow--is now becoming more and more difficult. In addition, although the median age of religious congregations is rising faster than that of the general population, many religious feel they have the right, and indeed the duty, to request proximity to aging parents. Religious congre-gations in serious decline have virtually no young sisters under perpetual vows who might be sent to isolated schools in rural areas. Since the majority of Australian sisters have reached the "winding down" stage of their lives, many now look to the cities from whence they originally came. In addition to these developments within the Church, the governments of Australia and New Zealand have acknowledged, in the form of funding, the benefits to the country as a whole of certain works of the private sector, including Catholic, and have thus made it necessary to rethink the ecclesias-tical structures for some ministries in which religious are involved. The equitable processing of government funding necessitated merging many local works, including parish schools within dioceses, into larger systems, most of whose personnel are now lay. These mergings required the develop-ment of policies acceptable to the relevant bishops, major religious superi- 674 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ors, and state and union representatives for the management of the works, particularly those of healthcare and education. Making the policies work in practice required the establishment of sophisticated structures, which in turn required religious or lay personnel with the proper management skills. As a result, the power of the leaders of religious institutes with regard to the placement of personnel in traditional works in Australia and New Zealand has been lessened. Unlike lay staff, religious in Australia are not permitted employment status; this is not the case in New Zealand.2 Because of all of these circumstances, religious superiors have had to rethink how to preserve their true patrimony oi" authentic mission and what human cost would be involved. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? The whole issue of the employment, or active involvement, of religious personnel leads to the question: Which is of greater importance to an insti-tute claiming to be dedicated to apostolic works, the works for which it was founded or the persons who will serve in those works? For leaders of insti-tutes whose acceptance of candidates demands that they offer them appropri-ate apostolic work, the answer is neither obvious nor simple. However, the Church has offered some very sound advice in the general area of human work. Of the documents which have come from the Vatican since the council, few could be more relevant to our times than the encyclical letter Laborem Exercens (LE) of the present pope. Pope John Paul II presents human work as "one of the characteristics that distinguish man from the rest of the crea-tures." It is "from work [that man's life] derives its specific dignity" (LE Introduction). Pope John Paul describes the "conflict between labor and cap-ital in the present phase of history" (LE 1 l f f). The Church, he points out, has always taught "the principle of labor over capital." Both are causes of pro-duction, but while capital is the mere "instrumental cause," labor is the "pri-mary efficient cause" (LE 12). In the labor-over-capital issue, Pope John Paul equates labor with per-sons and capital with the material returns from their labor. Consecrated reli-gious, even those who have employment, individually receive no capital }'or their labor. They have sacrificed this right for a stable form of living by which they can follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit (c. 573). In Australia and New Zealand, more than half of the person-nel in apostolic institutes made their commitment in the years when religious superiors had supreme control over placement into works, and they are now beyond the stage at which they might have arranged for alternative security Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 675 in old age upon seeing that the original system in which they sacrificed pos-sible wealth, marriage, and motherhood was beginning to break down. So the competent authorities obviously have a serious question of obligation towards them now. Many of the religious have perhaps forty years of life which they could still offer in apostolic works within the Church. Pope John Paul also writes concerning the roles of the "direct and indi-rect employer" (LE 17). By the "indirect employer" he refers to many differ-ent elements in society which make up the human environment of the worker. He says: "The role of the agents included under the title of indirect employer is to act against unemployment, which in all cases is an evil, and which, when it reaches a certain level, can become a real social disaster" (LE 18). These are strong words from the pen of the vicar of Christ. The principal agent in the concept of indirect employer for religious personnel would be the wider Church in that country. Should not, then, sections of the local Church accept part of the responsibility to address any problems of unem-ployment for religious? As well, the question should be raised within reli-gious institutes: Is it justifiable for religious superiors to accept candidates to poverty and obedience within a particular institute when those superiors do not have the power to place them in suitable work soon after profession? Perhaps declining numbers in a congregation increase the temptation for superiors to do so, and perhaps they excuse their actions with the reminder that all should "trust in God." I believe that succumbing to such a temptation would constitute power abuse of a particularly destructive kind. The abuse would surely be more damaging if others within the institute were already searching for similar employment, and were exposed to the same market forces. Power and Recruitment for Apostolic Works The power of recruitment brings us to the heart of the present discus-sion, namely, the opportunity for or deprivation of suitable apostolic work for religious personnel. It is neither possible nor desirable to completely sep-arate apostolic persons from the society in which they live. Professed mem-bers of Australian religious institutes are exposed to the forces which are part of the sophisticated living of the decade leading up to the twenty-first century. In this society ~nd age, control of recruitment for works represents power. For religious personnel, recruitment can be translated into mission-ing. Procedures for the missioning of religious should be such that they lead to the spiritual strengthening of the members and the corporate growth of the institute. The immediate practical problem to be faced by governing bodies of religious institutes is to develop policies for missioning procedures that 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 are within their power to implement, that support evangelization, that are just and equitable and adapted to the personhood of each sister, and that accord with both canon and civil law. Nowadays apostolic work for religious may be broadly placed into four categories: (1) viable institutions of which the con-gregation is the trustee, (2) charitable works of the congregation or of other ecclesiastical bodies, (3) viable institutions of other ecclesiastical bodies which pay stipends or salaries for the work of the sister, and (4) viable and nonviable works found in profane structures at the initiative of the religious. (1) Viable institutions owned by a religious institute are, in a distinctive manner, part of its patrimony. They are, as well, material assets of the insti-tute, which its leaders should, in. poverty, care for "with the diligence of a good householder" (canon 1284). Viable works of religious congregations are businesses, and for businesses to survive and attract personnel today, they must be competitive. Vatican II (Gaudium et Spes 64) teaches that eco-nomic development through technical progress "must be fostered, along with a spirit of initiative, an eagerness to create and expand enterprises," and that the purpose of productivity "must be th.e service of. the whole human per-son, viewed in terms of his or her material needs and the demands of his or her intellectual, moral, spiritual, and religious life." Pope John Paul points out that "capital cannot be separated fr6m labor" (LE 13) though, of course, in the case of religious persons, the capital is, through poverty, directed elsewhere than themselves. Religious persons, knowing that they are materially contributing towards the whole, find in the capital "confirma-tion and support" (LE 13) for the work done. Sound economics and evangel-ical poverty should go hand in hand. In order to maintain the correct balance between responsibility to the institute's mission and respect for the rights of the individual members of the institute, congregational leaders (trustees of the works) must regard the work and those involved in it as separate entities: the work itself is important regardless of who does it. Individual members must have the same percep-tion so that they may practice the spirit of poverty, or detachment. There should, accordingly, be protective structures for the ministry, including sometimes the combining of similar works under one administration so that they will continue even in cases of illness or of anyone's taking longservice leave. It is particularly important that this principle of continuation be respected when works require only one person in the local area, for example, instrumental music practices.3 Setting up protective structures for ministries in order to maintain the institute's patrimony will include policies for recruitment of staff. In those works in which a number of religious and lay people, are engaged, religious superiors have the direct power to influence Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 677 administrators in the recruitment of personnel. It stands to reason, then, that---other things, like professional qualifications, being equal--in recruit-ment for works of which the religious institute is the trustee, preference should be given to its own members. (2) The category of charitable works might include refuges for the needy which are supported by the congregation and by external donations. Without viable works there can be no charitable works. The Church's teaching on a "preferential option for the poor," by which the poor should have a preferen-tial claim on the Church's resources, cannot be initially applied without the resources. Once competent authorities decide that a charitable work is authentic to the charism of the institute, then the congregation should set up, as it should for its viable institutions, protective structures to preserve the work, whether or not there are religious personnel to staff it. Indeed, true missionaries strive to make themselves ultimately dispensable--teaching the disadvantaged how to be self-reliant and how to recover the dignity which is their right (see LE 9). Protective structures would include finance arrange-ments which can be monitored, and the work should be the source of support for the individual religious workers; that is, their salaries or stipends should be fed back into the general system. Again, for a religious institute's own charitable works, other things being equal, one would expect that members of the institute who are under civil retirement age should be considered first when positions are vacant. In Australia, women over sixty years of age (men over sixty-five) who have limited assets (a category which includes religious) are eligible to apply for the Social Security payments from the government. With the pres-ent societal structures, it seems that religious who receive Social Security should not deprive others (perhaps more deserving) of needed employment positions. In some dioceses it is established policy not to accept into stipend-ed positions religious women who are over sixty. If protective structures for an institute's works do not include allocationof salaries, or stipends which are independent of Social Security payments, then receipt of the latter would generate for the ministry an artificial security which could destabilize long-term plans for it. (3) In the third category above, which here in Australia refers principally to Catholic education, lie the greatest current problems of placement of reli-gious personnel. In most of Australia, the recruitment of staffs for nonpro-motional positions in Catholic schools is in the hands of local principals. This power evolved with the gradual acceptance of lay staffs into the parish schools previously staffed by religious. Perhaps to our discredit, it is only recently (since about 1975) that there has been widespread acceptance of lay 678 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 teachers into promotional positions. In general, the power of religious supe-riors to place personnel in diocesan works is limited to those positions which were previously held by other religious of their own congregations. Declining numbers, and thus declining positions, led to some religious being exposed to market forces for ministries. School principals, whether religious or lay, still have the power and responsibility of staffing. This has now become an excessive burden for principals of Catholic schools in the coun-try, and an excessive power for those in the city. One solution would be to have staff recruitment moved to the systemic level so that consistent staffing policies might be applied across dioceses. This might lessen the number of religious who today feel forced into the fourth category above. The exposure of some religious to market forces in the area of ministry is quite a different method of missioning than the appropriate placement of a person by a religious superior. The question should be asked: Is it just for the two types of missioning to coexist ~within the same religious institute? The answer to this important question will require great honesty and humility on the part of religious leaders. Religious exposed to market forces are some-times refused employment in diocesan works or, when school enrollments drop, dismissed by school principals of their own congregation who have the power of recruitment. Such practices are effectively structuring out of Catholic education the few teaching religious who are left, and are a serious cause of unemployment amongst religious. Some religious teachers even turn to the state school system for employment rather than lose touch with the classroom and "real life." Considering the authentic commitment which the religious have made, this alternative seems to the present writer an anomaly. On the other hand, relatively little investment has been made by the wider Australian Church over the last twenty years for the education in theology of lay teachers for Catholic schools. The above problems can now be solved only by negotiations between diocesan and religious leaders who have in mind the well-being of both the mission and the persons. As well, past oversight in planning could perhaps be avoided in the future if religious are encouraged to contribute ideas through appropriate media. Adequate Use of Media There are two levels of written communication which are particularly important in preserving a correct balance between responsibility for authen-tic mission and respect for the rights of individuals. These levels are media within the wider Church and media within religious institutes. Media within the Wider Church. Recruitment of personnel for Catholic works is effected via both the Catholic journals and the metropolitan dailies. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 679 Like most other countries, Australia has its regular Catholic state and dioce-san papers. Because these are virtually all the Catholic community has for information on what is happening in the Church, they warrant better support and readership than they receive~ In general, editorial staffs in this country strive to maintain an adequate standard of journalism. Despite these vehicles of communication, religious leaders sometimes offer only private invitations to coveted positions which become available. They would avoid much criti-cism if they were to justify, via the Catholic media, such private invitations, especially those to academic posts in Catholic theological institutes, which remain predominantly male. Media within Religious Institutes. If any group of people ever needed to be skilled in transmitting information to each other, it would surely be the members of a religious community. Today there is frequent reference to the "role of the prophet" within religious institutes. Prophets must have vehicles in which they can deliver the message, and the printed word offers the par-ticular benefit of time for considered expression and response. I believe that religious institutes need especially these two kinds of print media: directo-ries and forums for challenge. Directories. In order for general leaders to affirm a work as part of the institute's authentic mission, they must understand clearly what the work is about and be sufficiently convinced of its value to defend it, if necessary, at the general chapter. On the other hand, if chapter delegates believe that the congregation has more ministries than they can validly affirm, they should seriously and courageously argue that systematic steps be taken towards reducing the number.4 Chapter delegates, in order to make valid contribu-tions to discussions and debates regarding works, must have information about their nature and value. Since this is so, it stands to reason that those who elected them--namely, all members of the institute--should have it too. Therefore, each apostolic institute in today's world needs its own official directOry, revised and published annually and containing information on the residence and mission of each member. The directory, which would be an implicit demographic study of the institute, should contain, as well, an annu-al financial statement of the institute and its provinces, with statistics on works which had some elements in common. I believe this would assist greatly in the appropriate placement of personnel and act as a deterrent to increasing fragmentation in ministries. Forum for Challenge. If members of religious institutes with at least parallel qualifications to lay teachers are to have the same work opportuni-ties in the institutes' traditional ministries, then positions that are open should be advertised first within "the system." Trade unions insist on this 680 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 right for their civilly employed members, so it should not be too much to expect within the religious institutes themselves. As well, religious subjects often have insights and ideas for better management which are unknown to superiors. They should have the opportunity to share them. Their ideas may be of benefit to all so that problems like unemployment may be addressed before they gain a hold. Since religious women were, for over a hundred years, to an extent indoctrinated not to express an opinion, they will need to be encouraged to contribute. Therefore, internal journals which contain forums for challenge must have a mandate from a competent authority and must be frequent and regular. When what is written in them is not uncharita-ble- that is, criticizes a policy or a structure and does not attack a particular person--and is limited in audience to professed members of the institute, then it is not a threat to loyalty. Indeed, such a forum could become a c.orpo-rate examination of conscience and could preserve or restore the balance between responsibility for authentic mission and the rights of the person. It could also act as a specific prevention or cure of the evil of unemployment within the religious institute. In educating religious to the use of an internal journal, it should be pointed out that the institute, being made up of human beings, is quite subject to error and that it could be harmful to their beioved congregation to write only of its virtues and to overlook its faults, including possibly incorrect policies with regard to the placement of personnel. Conclusion More than twenty years have passed now since religious congregations first experienced declining numbers and lay teachers became an ac.cepted part of Catholic education here in Australia, so there has be~n adequate time to face up to problems which have occurred regarding recruitment for specif-ic works. Sister Georgine recommends that a program "address all the dimensions of employment and unemployment." However, "job clubs" and "comprehensive programs" are unlikely to take shape until religious leaders acknowledge that the problem is there. I believe that leaders also have the duty to provide those engaged in the works with information and reflection based on surveys or particular works so that they will know what the scope of that work will be in the future, how long the work itself is likely to sur-vive, and what the superiors are planning in that regard. There is no guarantee that any of the above proposals are a complete cure for the evil of unemployment within religious life. However, endeavor-ing to maintain a correct balance between responsibility f~r the mission and respect for the persons of the members of the institute goes to the causes of the evil and is more likely to effect a long-term cure. The use of appropriate Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 681 media is a method of achieving the "maximum feasible participation" in effecting a cure. We are living in a world at the brink of the third Christian millennium. It is a world which needs the commitment of consecrated reli-gious life as much as ever and perhaps more than ever. A life wholly dedi-cated to contemplation is a rare gift. However, there is plenty of evidence to indicate that apostolic institutes of consecrated life have an important place in contemporary society. The chief characteristic of Christian moral doctrine besides its Christocentric orientation is the integration of love and justice, the latter being "the strong and firm will to give to each his due.''5 For a reli-gious woman who has sacrificed potential marriage, motherhood, and career in order to serve the Church in an institute devoted to apostolic ministry, unemployment is a serious injustice. The Church and religious institutes should work together for both prevention and cure. NOTES I See R. Hoffman, "Mission," in The New Catholic Encyclopedia. 2 For the purpose of the present article, the word employment will sometimes refer to apostolic work, whether or not the religious has employment status in the civil law. 3 The present writer admits to a certain bias towards instrumental music teaching. I believe that this work is of great importance to the liturgy of the Church. One of the long-term effects of the mergings of parish schools and the employment of lay teach-ers in Australian Catholic education was the death of much traditional music prac-tice, which was not absorbed into the diocesan systems and had few protective structures. It seems to me that the most important strategy for preserving the practice of music is to remove revenue management from the hands of the individual teacher. Otherwise the work tends to become like that of a self-employed person--a situation which is not compatible with either poverty or obedience. Skilled musicians in parishes attract worshipers. I believe that budgeting towards producing musicians for the Church should be part of its primary mission. 4 The idea of permitting novices to have unlimited scope in "working out" their future ministry is, I believe, a recipe for disaster; apostolic congregations already have difficulty in staffing missions recognized as authentic to their charism. 5 New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 8, p. 70. Quotation from St. Thomas Aquinas (ST 2 a2ae, 58.1). Inner Africa: A ,Journey of Conversion Susan Rakoczy, 1.H.M. Sister Susan Rakoczy, I.H.M., began ministry in South Africa in October 1989 and currently lectures in systematic theology and spirituality at St. Joseph's Theological Institute in Cedara. Her address is 21 Buchanan Street; 3290 Howick; South Africa. It was about 2:30 in the morning as the door of the plane was opened. The humid and steaming air of West Africa enveloped me as I was pushed down the stairs by the crowd onto the tarmac of Ougadougou airport. Swept along with women carrying immense bondles on their heads, children looking for their parents, and determined men striding forward, 1 suddenly thought, "I am on holy ground--I am in Africa." But if I had bent down to kiss the ground I would have been trampled--better to let myself be borne by the flow of humanity to the small airport terminal and the arrival procedures. In the rush and confusion of all the formalities I could sense that I had now entered something deeper than my own self for 1 was touching "mother Africa." Later, as we stowed our luggage in a friend's car for the drive to the hostel to spend what was left of the night I wondered, "What have I done with my life?" What indeed. ? The experiences of my years in Ghana (1982 to 1988) provided many different answers to that question. Most essentially they led me into the depths of conversion Which I can describe now as "inner Africa" for I soon learned that "mother Africa" would ask everything of me. The Call Some people dream all their lives of serving outside their own country, but that was not my experience. Not until I was finishing my doctoral studies in religion at Catholic University in 1980 did I sense a call to serve beyond North America. Through the months of preparation, prayer, and discussion 682 Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 683 which preceded my journey to Ghana, people often asked, "Why are you going?" Slowly I clarified my own sense of call, speaking of my desire to share something of my gifts and education with the "young Church" of Africa. As I read about Africa and its needs, struggles, and promise I became aware of a continent and Church reaching towards maturity of faith and vision. Somehow I sensed very deeply that I wanted to be part of that. But it is not enough just to desire to serve in Africa. It is an immense continent, large enough to contain the continental United States two-and-a-half times. I received an invitation to teach in the major seminary in northern Ghana (our congregation had come to that section of the country in 1976) and so the plan was to come and spend a year getting acquainted with the culture and life of the people and then to begin teaching in 1983. As with many people who come to Africa, things did not turn out quite as I had planned. While I did work in Navrongo, a small town in Ghana for a year, the seminary door never opened wide enough to admit a woman theologian. But life at the Centre for Spiritual Renewal, a retreat center in the city of Kumasi, gave me a much wider scope for ministry with opportunities in retreats and spiritual direction, intensive leadership formation with prayer group leaders, and writing and editing, all of which enabled me to enter more deeply into Ghanaian life and culture. All the preparation I tried to do, while helpful in some ways, was still inadequate to the challenge of Africa. After I arrived I realized that what I needed was a radical openness, a sense of adventure, a desire to meet the continent and its people on their own terms. As the day of departure neared my own sense of expectancy of what was ahead increased. Shortly before I left I spent a few days on retreat at our com-munity hermitage. The entries in my journal for those days speak of praying for courage and joy and experiencing great wonder at this call I had received. The night before I left I wrote: Tomorrow~departure. I feel more than ready. Mostly I feel a deep free-dom and joy which has placed fear on the sidelines. Somehow 1 know I will meet the Lord--in and of his people--in ways never before imag-ined and experienced. And that is enough--more than enough--to move me across oceans and cultures. 1 go in utter joy and freedom. As the plane left United States soil the next day, ! remember how my whole spirit moved forward towards Africa. Soon I descended the steps of that plane that hot morning in Ougadougou. Inner and outer Africa now began. Call To Conversion As I reflect on my years in Ghana, I experience them in the images of 684 / Review for Religious; September-October 1991 "outer" and "inner" Africa. The first was the living of African reality in terms of my ministry; it describes what I did, with whom I lived, the rich-ness of my experience in those years. But "inner Africa" was the core of it all. My years in Ghana were fore-most an experience of conversion--a turning from, in order to turn to some-thing else, something which challenged everything I thought I was, knew, and had within me. Paul Robb, S.J., describes well the essence of conversion as a journey into the unknown: It is difficult to endure conversion because it seems to put into jeopardy our very lifestyle and ministry, but even more so because we sense that it touches the very roots of our life. It reaches deep into our being---our personality, our choices, our very self. It touches in places that are unknown, places where we are strangers. To begin a journey into an unfamiliar, haunting land is frightening, but not to know whether we will find life or death, blessing or curse, at the end can be terrifying. To enter the journey with all its uncertainties proves the possibility of finding life and life in abundance. Not to begin the journey, but to harden and steel oneself against it, is already death.2 The images are true and strong and evocative of my own African experi-ence. In my first weeks, as I entered "outer Africa" in its immensity with all the challenges of a new culture, 1 also experienced a sense of inner chaos. Some days I felt as if I were drowning, the waters of Africa enveloping me, About two months after I arrived I realized that I had to truly "walk through the door of Africa" ifI were to survive. In my journal I wrote: I have straddled first- and third-world existence in great disharmony. Today I felt that part of this is ended--it is within Africa now--that (God's) grace will work, from the inside out. It is as though 1 have now truly entered Africa. Once I had walked onto the solid ground of Africa never again did I feel this inner chaos. The work of conversion could now begin. These conver-sions were multiple and touched every dimension of my life as a North American woman of faith in a radically different culture: My first-world perspective was turned upside down; I was called from idealism to realism; I moved from giving to receiving; 1 experienced strength becoming weakness; I passed from death to life--from myself to God alone. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 685 First-World Perspective Turned Up-Side Down We come to a new culture as we are. If we are even halfway faithful to the challenges of cross-cultural experience, our own self-understanding of our home culture will change dramatically. This I experienced very pro-foundly. I discovered that I had brought a very large amount of cultural bag-gage with me. It was disconcerting to be criticized as "too American" at times--that is, too self-assured, too curious, too organized, too conscious of time; too ready with my questions and opinions. What was salutary, if painful, was the opportunity to allow my world-view to shift into new patterns. I first learned that the United States is not the center of the universe, even if it often acts that way and its military and eco-nomic policies impact the rest of the planet in such dramatic ways. It is one country among many, with its own strengths and weaknesses. I learned also how diverse and beautiful are the gifts of the people of other countries. 1 especially experienced this gift in the opportunities 1 had to meet people from so many different parts of the world and to enter into something of the richness of the world's cultural heritage, to see how differently people can feel, think, and organize human life. There were two central ways in which my world began to be "turned upside down": my experience of poverty and my attempts to learn new dimensions of the common life and hospitality. Poverty is a hard and often a "loaded" word. We fight it and yet some-how sense that in being poor we will find the key to new life in solidarity with others. The Gospel's call to detachment from riches and from every-thing that would hinder our response to the invitation from Jesus to disciple-ship has always challenged Christians profoundly. To come to Ghana was certainly to see poverty and share in it in some small ways. It was indeed a shock for me to see the extent of poverty and marginality: lack of clean and safe water for so many, schools with few books, hospitals and clinics without supplies, limited transportation, rudi-mentary communication, erratic electricity. Some of the practical details of my new lifestyle were a challenge. It was "farewell" to dependable electrici-ty, unlimited water, telephone service, easily available fuel, and to book-shops, movies, and regular postal service. It was, on the other hand, "hello" to a sense of living on the "edge of things" at times--lanterns and attempts to get kerosene for them, recycling every possible drop of water, limited food supplies, simple amusements, and difficulties in communication. All these changes were hard in different ways. I wrote: I am struck again by the gap between theory and practice in my life, for 686 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 example, to talk about poverty, being with the poor--and then not to embrace poverty wholeheartedly, as indeed Jesus did. The:conversion to acceptance of and a certain ease with my new simple lifestyle took time. I never did get used to the erratic postal system and its consequences for poor communication with family and friends. On the other hand, as the years went by I gradually experienced in myself a certain ability to live with much less and to find in that a real freedom. To have to do things simply and patiently experience inconvenience gradually became a way for me to share some sense of solidarity with the poor who have no options and no outside resources. I was becoming comfortable with the simplicity of Ghanaian life and my heart was slowly becoming centered on what was most essential. I was not poor in the way the ordinary Ghanaian is poor but I did come to experience in small ways the shocks and diminishments of poverty. 1 also learned new meanings of community life and hospitality because African life is lived in common. The extended family of several generations living together in one compound has been the normal pattern in rural areas. Daily activities take place outside, and people are inside only when it is rain-ing, or at night, or if they are sick. The atmosphere in both urban and rural areas is one of physical and psychological openness to friend and stranger. Entering into such a different cultural atmosphere of hospitality and availability also challenged my Western habits. In the West we live inside; people come into our lives generally at our convenience thanks to the cultur-al presuppositions that one lives by calendars and schedules. But in a situa-tion where the culture says "welcome" all that changes. People walk into one's life often unannounced, and the person at the door could bring the unexpected pleasure of a friend coming to visit or someone arriving for a retreat without any previous communication or someone coming to ask for prayer---or the bishop with overseas visitors. 1 learned to be always ready to adapt to people's needs and to realize that my life and my time were really no longer my own, Prayer time was often interrupted; reading and study had to be immediately abandoned to answer someone's need. Privacy became very relative since, although I had my own room and office, my own space and time were now the resources of the people I tried to serve. These demands taught me much about my own selfishness, the need to have my own way, my own schedule, my own plans. I never did become totally comfortable with being physically and psychologically available at all times. Yet gradually I learned to absorb something of the spirit of welcome and hospitality which are so important in Ghanaian culture and to live them in my halting way. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 687 The first dimension of conversion in my life then was a shift in con-sciousness from being a woman of the first world to one living in the third world and trying to enter fully into life there. My American perspective and cultural habits were turned upside down and inside out. The result was a double-consciousness for I saw, and felt, and experienced first- and third-world realities at the same time. Nothing could or would be the same again. From Idealism to Realism Soon after I came to Ghana I realized what a "good press" the African Church has in the West. The reading I had done before I arrived had given me the overwhelming impression of a "young Church" on its way to real inculturation as a true African expression of the Christian faith, with signifi-cant achievements already made in liturgy and catechesis. It is true that inculturation is happening, theological development and reflection are proceeding, liturgy is more authentically African in some places--but the pace of everything is slow and that is the pace of Africa. Idealism about the Church was gradually replaced by a realism about the Church as it is. To be a "young" Church is exactly that. In the southern part of Ghana modern Catholic

This study investigated approaches to the elementary social studies methods syllabus from instructors of courses across the United States. Using qualitative content analysis, we explored 48 methods syllabi using a deductive framework of Information Based Systems d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20492\ssr_2014_38_1\spssr_38_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:12:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:12:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:13:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:13:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20493\ssr_2014_38_2\spssr_38_2_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:10:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:10:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:11:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:11:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20494\ssr_2014_38_3\spssr_38_3_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:12:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:12:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:13:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:13:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20495\ssr_2014_38_4\spssr_38_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20496\ssr_2015_39_1\spssr_39_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:14:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:14:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:15:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:15:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20497\ssr_2015_39_2\spssr_39_2_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:13:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:13:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:14:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:14:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20498\ssr_2015_39_3\spssr_39_3_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:10:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:10:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:11:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:11:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20499\ssr_2015_39_4\spssr_39_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20500\ssr_2016_40_1\spssr_40_1_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:16:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:16:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:17:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:17:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20501\ssr_2016_40_2\spssr_40_2_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:10:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:10:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:11:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:11:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:18:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:18:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:19:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:19:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:21:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:21:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:21:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:21:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:22:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:22:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:22:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:22:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:23:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:23:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:23:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20502\ssr_2016_40_3\spssr_40_3_meta_issue.xml:23:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:14:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:14:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:15:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:15:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:21:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:21:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:21:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:21:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:22:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:22:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:22:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:22:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:23:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:23:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:23:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:23:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:24:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:24:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:24:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20503\ssr_2016_40_4\spssr_40_4_meta_issue.xml:24:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20504\ssr_2017_41_1\spssr_41_1_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:15:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:15:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:16:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:16:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20505\ssr_2017_41_2\spssr_41_2_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:15:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:15:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:16:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:16:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20506\ssr_2017_41_3\spssr_41_3_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:15:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:15:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:16:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:16:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20507\ssr_2017_41_4\spssr_41_4_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:14:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:14:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:15:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:15:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:21:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:21:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:21:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20512\ssr_2019_43_1\spssr_43_1_meta_issue.xml:21:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:16:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:16:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:17:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:17:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20513\ssr_2019_43_2\spssr_43_2_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:17:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:17:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:18:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:18:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:21:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:21:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:21:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:21:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:22:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:22:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:22:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:22:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:23:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:23:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:23:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:23:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:24:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:24:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:24:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:24:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:25:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:25:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:25:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20514\ssr_2019_43_3\spssr_43_3_meta_issue.xml:25:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:15:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:15:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:16:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:16:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:17:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:17:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:18:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:18:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:19:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:19:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:20:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:20:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:20:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20515\ssr_2019_43_4\spssr_43_4_meta_issue.xml:20:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:13:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:14:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:15:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:15:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20520\ssr_2021_45_1\spssr_45_1_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:149:111:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:149:111: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:221:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:221:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:225:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:225:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:226:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:226:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:245:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:245:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:249:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:249:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:250:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:250:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:279:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:279:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:283:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:283:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:284:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:284:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:313:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:313:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:318:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:318:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:319:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:319:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:362:6:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:362:6: open elements: article body[1] 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d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:398:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:402:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:402:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:403:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:403:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:439:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:439:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:442:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:442:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:471:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:471:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:481:763:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:481:763: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:512:490:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:512:490: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:533:412:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:533:412: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:549:313:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:549:313: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:560:381:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:560:381: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:567:407:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:567:407: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:594:396:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:594:396: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:606:289:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:606:289: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:608:358:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:608:358: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:616:430:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:616:430: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:630:287:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.001.xml:630:287: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:197:35:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:197:35: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:197:73:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:197:73: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:198:72:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:198:72: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:198:127:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:198:127: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:199:37:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:199:37: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:199:66:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:199:66: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:199:115:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:199:115: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:295:28:E: ID "list1-j.jssr.2020.07.002" already defined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:74:29: ID "list1-j.jssr.2020.07.002" first defined here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:295:28: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:422:319:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:422:319: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:423:320:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:423:320: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:426:421:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:426:421: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:496:280:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.002.xml:496:280: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:170:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:170:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] thead[1] tr[1] th[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:171:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:171:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] thead[1] tr[1] th[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:172:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:172:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] thead[1] tr[1] th[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:173:17:E: element "ce:underline" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.07.003.xml:173:17: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] thead[1] tr[1] th[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:30:107:E: document type does not allow element "surname" here; assuming missing "name" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:30:107: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (contrib-id[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:34:107:E: document type does not allow element "surname" here; assuming missing "name" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:34:107: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (contrib-id[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:98:2:E: document type does not allow element "p" here; missing one of "boxed-text", "fig", "supplementary-material", "open-access", "disp-quote", "statement", "fn" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:98:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:99:2:E: document type does not allow element "p" here; missing one of "boxed-text", "fig", "supplementary-material", "open-access", "disp-quote", "statement", "fn" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:99:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:474:16:E: document type does not allow element "table-wrap-foot" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:474:16: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] (table[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:494:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:494:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:499:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:499:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:503:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:503:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:507:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:507:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:511:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:511:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:516:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:516:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:517:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:517:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:518:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:518:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:519:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:519:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:524:5:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:524:5: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:614:323:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:614:323: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:628:364:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:628:364: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:646:312:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.08.003.xml:646:312: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:30:107:E: document type does not allow element "surname" here; assuming missing "name" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:30:107: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (contrib-id[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:36:107:E: document type does not allow element "surname" here; assuming missing "name" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:36:107: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (contrib-id[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:41:107:E: document type does not allow element "surname" here; assuming missing "name" start-tag d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:41:107: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (contrib-id[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:91:27:E: ID "fn1-j.jssr.2020.09.002" already defined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:51:27: ID "fn1-j.jssr.2020.09.002" first defined here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:91:27: open elements: article body[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:224:16:E: document type does not allow element "table-wrap-foot" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:224:16: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] (table[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:272:29:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:272:29: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:273:152:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:273:152: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:274:158:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:274:158: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:280:124:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:280:124: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:280:330:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:280:330: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:281:230:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:281:230: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:284:29:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:284:29: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:285:67:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:285:67: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:287:44:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:287:44: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:291:96:E: element "br" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:291:96: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:385:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:385:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:528:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:528:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:545:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:545:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:562:2:E: element "b" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:562:2: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:570:16:E: document type does not allow element "table-wrap-foot" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:570:16: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] (table[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:661:357:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:661:357: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:665:438:E: document type does not allow element "italic" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.002.xml:665:438: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] publisher-name[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20521\ssr_2021_45_2\spssr_45_2_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:234:278:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:234:278: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:278:273:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:278:273: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:280:287:E: document type does not allow element "italic" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:280:287: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:280:302:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.09.004.xml:280:302: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:252:8:E: ID "table-fn1-1-j.jssr.2020.10.001" already defined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:251:8: ID "table-fn1-1-j.jssr.2020.10.001" first defined here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:252:8: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] table-wrap-foot[1] (fn[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:456:12:E: there is no attribute "nameend" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:456:12: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] thead[1] tr[1] (th[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:456:26:E: there is no attribute "namest" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.10.001.xml:456:26: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] thead[1] tr[1] (th[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.001.xml:33:19:E: value of attribute "ref-type" cannot be "bio"; must be one of "aff", "app", "author-notes", "bibr", "boxed-text", "chem", "contrib", "corresp", "disp-formula", "fig", "fn", "kwd", "list", "plate", "scheme", "sec", "statement", "supplementary-material", "table", "table-fn", "other" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.001.xml:33:19: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (xref[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:33:19:E: value of attribute "ref-type" cannot be "bio"; must be one of "aff", "app", "author-notes", "bibr", "boxed-text", "chem", "contrib", "corresp", "disp-formula", "fig", "fn", "kwd", "list", "plate", "scheme", "sec", "statement", "supplementary-material", "table", "table-fn", "other" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:33:19: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (xref[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:37:19:E: value of attribute "ref-type" cannot be "bio"; must be one of "aff", "app", "author-notes", "bibr", "boxed-text", "chem", "contrib", "corresp", "disp-formula", "fig", "fn", "kwd", "list", "plate", "scheme", "sec", "statement", "supplementary-material", "table", "table-fn", "other" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:37:19: open elements: article front[1] article-meta[1] contrib-group[1] contrib[1] (xref[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:222:8:E: ID "table-fn1-j.jssr.2020.11.002" already defined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:145:8: ID "table-fn1-j.jssr.2020.11.002" first defined here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:222:8: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] table-wrap-foot[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:537:8:E: ID "table-fn1-1-j.jssr.2020.11.002" already defined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:146:8: ID "table-fn1-1-j.jssr.2020.11.002" first defined here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:537:8: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] table-wrap-foot[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:899:317:E: document type does not allow element "italic" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:899:317: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] publisher-name[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:925:308:E: document type does not allow element "italic" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.11.002.xml:925:308: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] publisher-name[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.12.002.xml:443:322:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.12.002.xml:443:322: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20522\ssr_2021_45_3\spssr_45_3_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.12.001.xml:283:13:E: there is no attribute "morerows" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.12.001.xml:283:13: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.12.001.xml:486:299:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2020.12.001.xml:486:299: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:206:13:E: there is no attribute "morerows" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:206:13: open elements: article body[1] sec[1] sec[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] (td[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:335:19:E: ID "table1-j.jssr.2021.03.001" already defined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:167:16: ID "table1-j.jssr.2021.03.001" first defined here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:335:19: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:364:18:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:364:18: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:373:150:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:373:150: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:425:84:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:425:84: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:436:172:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:436:172: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:447:149:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:447:149: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:467:83:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:467:83: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:511:103:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:511:103: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:519:143:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:519:143: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:519:319:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:519:319: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:526:72:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:526:72: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:549:80:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:549:80: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:556:79:E: element "ce:small-caps" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:556:79: open elements: article back[1] app-group[1] app[1] p[1] table-wrap[1] alternatives[1] table[1] tbody[1] tr[1] td[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:587:582:E: document type does not allow element "italic" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:587:582: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:587:597:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:587:597: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:625:387:E: document type does not allow element "italic" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:625:387: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:625:402:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.03.001.xml:625:402: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:643:327:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:643:327: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:646:309:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:646:309: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:647:270:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:647:270: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:648:394:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:648:394: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:680:322:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:680:322: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:695:301:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:695:301: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:705:306:E: document type does not allow element "sup" here d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\10.1016_j.jssr.2021.05.003.xml:705:306: open elements: article back[1] ref-list[1] ref[1] mixed-citation[1] edition[1] (#PCDATA[1]) d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:14:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:14:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:15:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:15:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:16:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20523\ssr_2021_45_4\spssr_45_4_meta_issue.xml:16:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:3:18:E: there is no attribute "volume" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:3:29:E: there is no attribute "issue" d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:3:32:E: element "MetaIssue" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9:E: element "Provider" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:4:9: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4:E: element "TOC" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:5:4: open elements: MetaIssue d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11:E: element "TocSection" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:6:11: open elements: MetaIssue TOC d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8:E: element "Heading" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:7:8: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:8:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:8:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:9:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:9:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:10:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:10:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:11:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:11:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:12:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:12:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:12:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:12:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:13:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:13:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:13:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:13:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:14:9:E: element "Resource" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:14:9: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:14:14:E: element "DOI" undefined d:\Sarjeet_Work\2023\Apr-2023\15apr\lot1\j-saib0004-20524\ssr_2022_46_1\spssr_46_1_meta_issue.xml:14:14: open elements: MetaIssue TOC TocSection Resource of education, Transformation Based Systems of Education, and Inquiry Based Systems of education. Ultimately, we determined that over half (n = 27) of the collected syllabi reflected an Information Based System of education meant to prepare students for certification, lesson and unit planning, and best practice social studies instruction. Fewer (n = 14) prepared pre-service teachers to challenge official knowledge and position social studies instruction within socio-political realities of students and fewer still prepared pre-service teachers to center inquiry-based instruction guided by the C3 Framework (n = 11). We position these findings within dominant trends in elementary social studies scholarship and conclude that too few methods courses reflect the scholarly trend toward transformative, justice-oriented, or inquiry-based elementary social studies.