Suchergebnisse

The American Civil War is one of the defining events in American history. Abundant studies cover every aspect of the conflict, from strategic analysis to the material culture of uniforms. Even with thousands of academic studies, each adding a new interpretation, there remains still unexplored territory. This study's objective is to expand upon and connect these previous interpretations to produce another tier in understanding a specific chapter of the war. The question posed centers on not the Confederate strengths but the Federal weaknesses. Research shows how the failure and limitations of Union strategy, policy, and the inability to logistically sustain massive offensives opened the way for the Confederacy to capitalize on, and turn the tide of the war. Furthermore, how did the Confederate strategies both militarily and politically have the greatest success and influence on the Kentucky and Maryland Campaigns and the overall outcome of the war? ; Master of Arts in Military History ; Capstone Autumn 1862 The High Tide of the Confederacy Colin E. Zimmerman A paper submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Arts in Military History Norwich University MH562 Capstone Paper Dr. Wesley Moody 23-August-2020. 2 Thesis: The American Civil War is one of the defining events in American history. Abundant studies cover every aspect of the conflict, from strategic analysis to the material culture of uniforms. Even with thousands of academic studies, each adding a new interpretation, there remains still unexplored territory. This study's objective is to expand upon and connect these previous interpretations to produce another tier in understanding a specific chapter of the war. The question posed centers on not the Confederate strengths but the Federal weaknesses. Research shows how the failure and limitations of Union strategy, policy, and the inability to logistically sustain massive offensives opened the way for the Confederacy to capitalize on, and turn the tide of the war. Furthermore, how did the Confederate strategies both militarily and politically have the greatest success and influence on the Kentucky and Maryland Campaigns and the overall outcome of the war? It will be necessary to answer this question through a multilayered approach. Instead of viewing the Kentucky and Maryland campaigns on the tactical level, which has already consumed most of the historiography on the topic, this study will instead find an explanation to this question through political, logistical, organizational, leadership personalities, and economic components and how they dictated the overall strategic picture and framework. When synthesizing all these components together, one potential answer generates: the grand Confederate offensive in the autumn of 1862, a direct result of botched Federal strategic measures and limitations, divided political policies, and the Union's struggling logistical capabilities; indicated the high tide of the Confederacy. Through battlefield victories and seizing the initiative in direct and indirect courses, Confederate leadership allowed the Southern field armies to exploit the Federal weaknesses culminating in the Kentucky and Maryland campaigns. 3 These campaigns offered the Confederacy its only realistic chance of ending the war on political and strategic terms that favored the South. An examination of each specific component and its relation to the Confederate high tide's theory is therefore essential to back this new interpretation. Political Factors of the North, South, and Europe; and its Benefit to the Confederacy in 1862: All wars, especially civil wars, are political in their foundation, influence, and execution. In "On War," Carl von Clausewitz states that "the political object, as the original motive of the War, will be the standard for determining both the aim of the military force and the amount of effort to be made." 1 This axiom applies to events in the autumn of 1862 since political factors dominated the motivation of strategy. The Confederacy's legitimacy resided within its field armies continued existence. Their ability to gain military victories that supported both the strategic and political realms was the essential component that needed to be sustained if the South was to remain independent. The North was in a completely different predicament, as the rival political factions, Republican's and Democrat's, each with its own opinion on the objective goals and the conduct of the war, could not in the early phase of the war come to common ground as to what the specific nature, cause, plan, and purpose of the Civil War was. The North was a nation at war without complete unification of mind, and purpose, which presented a weakness that could ultimately undo its efforts. Complicating matters for President Abraham Lincoln, and his party's agenda, was the fact the Northern Democratic party held just over 45% of the popular vote of free and border states in the 1860 election. 2 In short, the President and his administration existed only in a 1 Carl von Clausewitz, On War, Translated by Colonel J.J. Graham. New York, NY: Barnes & Noble, 2004. 10. 2 James McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. 506. 4 narrow margin and needed to conduct the war in a way suitable to keep the two very different mindsets exhibited by both the Republicans and Democrats in agreement. The Kentucky and Maryland campaigns occurred while changing Republican ideas on the persecution of the war and mid-term congressional elections, which proved to be a significant juncture in Northern and foreign politics. To be sure, the summer and fall of 1862 were extremely delicate times for Lincoln and the Republicans, and they could not afford any negative setbacks. Lacking any precedent to draw on, the Lincoln Administration delicately approached the rebellion by seeking the destruction of Confederate armies and exempting the Southern population from the burdens of war by respecting the civilians' constitutional rights and property. Historian Mark Grimsley captured the conviction of the policy by pointing out that the Lincoln administration renounced any intention of attacking slavery; and the government's assumption that most white Southerners were lukewarm about secession, and if handled with forbearance, would withdraw their allegiance from the Confederacy once Union armies entered their midst. 3 This policy known as conciliation, therefore, served as the beat to which Union forces marched off to war. Not all Northern generals and radical Republicans embraced this; however, the policy served as the first step in an evolutionary process that would eventually culminate in "hard-war." The effects of conciliation created favorable conditions for the Confederacy from which they were able to exploit the "limited war" shortcomings of the Union and surge forward into the fall offensive and their high tide. These shortcomings manifest in several different forms: leadership, strategic limitation, and foreign and domestic political pressure. Unfortunately for the 3 Mark Grimsley, The Hard Hand of War: Union Military Policy toward Southern Civilians, 1861-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 3. 5 Union, the combination of these factors exposed themselves in a negative light nearly all simultaneously, creating a perfect opportunity for the Confederates to take advantage of the drawbacks and pursue victory. Fueling the fire was the Lincoln Administration's policy regarding the appointment of military governors in captured territory. The issue arose when these cities, such as Nashville, were turned into massive supply centers for Union armies, resulting in intense rivalries between city and country, neighboring communities, and whites and blacks as they competed for jobs and dominance. 4 Henry Halleck, George McClellan, Don Carlos Buell, the key leaders of the Federal armies in 1862, generated the most immediate consequences stemming from the shortcomings of conciliation from as these three adherents to firm Democratic principles and military strategy are most responsible for creating the opportunity for a Confederate offensive. Generals Halleck, McClellan, and Buell are often portrayed by historians as lacking the "killer instinct," especially when compared to Ulysses S. Grant, William T. Sherman, and Phil Sheridan. However, a more accurate analysis finds them as men who followed the conciliation policy almost to the letter for political, personal, or logistical reasons. Halleck himself wrote the Elements of Military Art and Science, where he harped on the capture of strategic points, incurring the least number of casualties and damage as possible as the primary strategy of winning a war. Ironically, Halleck, the most influential Union general in 1862, believed that warfare was unjustifiable in most cases and should only be conducted with the utmost caution. 5 As General in Chief, Halleck had a significant influence on the conduct of operations of the Union forces. Each of these three 4 Grimsley, The Hard Hand of War, 35-36; Scott Nelson and Carol Sheriff, A People of War: Civilians and Soldiers in America's Civil War, New York: Oxford University Press, 2007. 88. The reference to negative leadership refers to the actions of Nathaniel Lyon and Francis Blair; who introduced "harsh" measures in 1861 prematurely which led to a brutal guerilla war and other political ramifications. 5 Henry Wagner Halleck, Elements of Military Art and Science: Course of Instruction in Strategy, Fortification, Tactics of Battle, Embracing the Duties of Staff, Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Engineers, Adapted to the Use of Volunteers and Militia, Third Edition, New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1862. 7-9. 6 commanders prescribed to similar variants of Halleck's theory, whose universal core value of caution above all else acted as the catalyst to create the conditions for the Confederacy to crest in the fall of 1862. While the reigns of military success were in McClellan's and Buell's hands during the Maryland and Kentucky campaigns; Halleck made two major errors in 1862 that are directly responsible for igniting the Confederate offensives. The first was his overabundance of caution in taking Corinth, allowing the Confederates to slip away and then failing to retain the initiative by pushing to Vicksburg while simultaneously failing to capture Chattanooga. The second major failure was his inability to harness his granted power and force McClellan to speedily and effectively send his army to the aid of John Pope, eliminating any opportunity for a combined assault on Lee's smaller army. 6 The Democratic principles these generals prescribed to differed in many respects from Lincoln and the Republican agenda on the idea of the war. Each strongly believed in the preservation of the Union yet favored winning the war by the least drastic measures, the least number of casualties, and on a platform acceptable to their Democratic party beliefs. 7 For instance, McClellan wrote Buell, upon the latter's elevation to command of the Army of the Ohio: "bear in mind that we are fighting only to preserve the integrity of the Union and to uphold the power of General Government….be careful so to treat the unarmed inhabitants as to contract, not widen, the breach existing between us & the rebels." 8 Additionally, Generals Pope, Grant, and Rosecrans, who likely weren't as politically polarized as the former three, contributed to the growing political dissension in 1862 in their own right. Therefore, by their actions, federal military leadership did more to subvert the Union military from ending the war quickly and 6 Russel F. Weigley, A Great Civil War: A Military and Political History, 1861-1865, Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2000. 135-136. It is arguable whether or not the Army of the Potomac could have arrived in its entirety rapidly enough to join with Pope. However, personal and in-house political agendas did not move the efficiency along any faster. 7 Weigley, A Great Civil War, xix-xxi. 8 Grimsley, 64. 7 dividing political tension based on faction theology more than any other public figures in 1862. One of the more notable incidents that fit into the framework of subversion was Grant's debacle at Shiloh, which brought strong opposition from anti-war Democrats, causing cautious leaders such as Halleck and McClellan to tighten their grip and fear repeat attacks. Most detrimental in this respect was the administration's and Halleck's decision to temporarily bench Grant during the Corinth episode, then subsequently leaving him in a position where he could not act with his usual aggressiveness against Stirling Price and Earl Van Dorn. Before his removal as General in Chief, George McClellan wrote Halleck then in charge of western forces, "The future success of our cause demands that proceedings such as Grant's should at once be checked. Generals must observe discipline as well as private soldiers. Do not hesitate to arrest him at once if the good of service requires it, & place CF Smith in command." 9 Grant's "recklessness" at Shiloh created quite the stir on the home front, which as a result, political rivals of the Lincoln Administration, sought to break down Grant as a way to spread discontent and fit the anti-war platform. They harped on the high number of casualties, the surprise of the Confederate attack, and the black eye to the seemingly unstoppable Union war machine. The backlash reached Washington, prompting a response from the Administration. In a telegram to Halleck, Secretary of War Stanton wrote, "The President desires to know why you have made no official report to this department respecting the late battles of Pittsburg landing. And whether any neglect or misconduct of General Grant or any other officer contributed to the sad casualties that befell our forces on Sunday." 10 The battle of Shiloh became the first political debacle that militarily opened the door for the Confederacy to take the offensive in the fall of 1862. 9 Nancy Scott Anderson and Dwight Anderson, The Generals: Ulysses. S. Grant and Robert E. Lee, Avenel: New Jersey, 1987. 230. 10 Anderson, The Generals, 241. 8 The most immediate politically charged consequence materialized in Halleck's handling of the advance on Corinth, which exemplified his standard cautiousness with added paranoia of avoiding another repeat of Shiloh. 11 The delicate politically charged caution continued even after the successful capture of Corinth in Halleck's decision to send Buell, over Pope or Grant to seize Chattanooga. Halleck's snail-like cautious advance on Corinth, and the decision to send Buell to Chattanooga, allowed the disorganized Confederate army to withdraw from Corinth, establish a new commander in the form of Braxton Bragg, who in turn brought reorganization, discipline, and professionalization to the Army of Mississippi; which proved to be the genesis of Bragg and Smith having the ability to advance into Tennessee and Kentucky. 12 Military shortcomings turned political disasters in the Eastern Theater during the summer of 1862, soon overshadowed Shiloh, and added dramatic momentum and opportunity to the rise of the Confederate high tide in the war's primary theater. McClellan and his Army of the Potomac, having suffered political harassment in late 1861 into the spring of 1862, began their downward political spiral with the Army of the Potomac's loss of initiative and strategic defeat during the Seven Days Battles on the Peninsula. The setbacks along the James River coupled with the black eye at Shiloh, and the defeat of Federal forces in the Shenandoah Valley in the spring of 1862 had devastating political effects, which left the North and European powers believing that all hope for the Union resided with McClellan and his Army of the Potomac. The proximity of the Union and Confederate capitals made the Eastern theater a hot spot for journalists and policymakers on both sides, who saw the region as the deciding factor in the Civil War's outcome. This army's setback at the gates of Richmond did more to influence how events 11 Larry J. Daniel, Days of Glory: The Army of the Cumberland, 1861-1865, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2006. 85. 12 Thomas Lawrence Connelly, Army of the Heartland: The Army of Tennessee, 1861-1862, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001. 188-194. 9 unfolded in the east in 1862 in both the strategic and political sense, both foreign and domestic. 13 The shortcomings on the Peninsula stymied the Union's hope to quickly end the war while making the voices of "Peace Democrats" louder and the political situation even more delicate. As if the Lincoln Administration did not already have enough burdens, both England and France, whose neutrality was necessary for the Union war effort, began to openly question the North's ability to subdue the South and end the rebellion. 14 Stonewall Jackson's brilliant campaign in the Valley, coupled with the Army of Northern Virginia's ferocious performance on the Peninsula elevated Southern patriotism, and simultaneously dampened Northern morale, convincing many on both sides that Southern victory was achievable. 15 Colonel Charles Marshall, Lee's Assistant Adjutant General believed that Robert E. Lee's emergence onto the scene was the greatest benefit to the Southern cause. He equated Lee's leadership on the Peninsula to that of a color bearer bravely advancing his banner towards the enemy. On political matters Marshall correctly believed that the Northern people were impatient for a speedy victory and that the Federal Government expressed this sentiment in its policy on conducting the war. However, this policy was forcefully and forever altered with the aggressive Lee's emergence onto the scene, whose plan called for carrying on the war indefinitely until the Confederacy achieved victory. Marshall outlined this plan as designed to, "frustrate the enemy's designs; to break up campaigns undertaken with vast expense and with confident assurance of success; to impress upon the minds of Northern people the conviction that they must prepare for a protracted struggle, great sacrifices of life and treasure, with the possibility that all might at last be of no 13 Stephen W. Sears, To the Gates of Richmond: The Peninsula Campaign, New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992. 355. 14 McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom, 554-555. 15 Peter Cozzens, Shenandoah 1862: Stonewall Jackson's Valley Campaign, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008. 507-508. 10 avail; and to accomplish this at the smallest cost to the Confederacy." 16 This leadership change at such a critical moment proved to be the dawn of turning Confederate fortunes in the east. Public opinion and political reactions to the Union failure on the Peninsula were mixed; however, strong opposition towards McClellan emerged and created discord among the rival Democrats and Republicans, each of whom found outlets to accuse the other of the responsibility of the campaign's failure. 17 Amid this political turmoil, Lincoln, in an effort to offset the discord introduced Major General John Pope, who only managed to escalate political dissension to a fever pitch with his disastrous Northern Virginia campaign. 18 In the Western Theater, the emergence of Braxton Bragg also came at a critical juncture in juxtaposition with the events occurring in the east. Bragg took command of the Army of Mississippi at one of its darkest hours, and through exemplary organizational skills, reshaped the Army of Mississippi into a professional, disciplined force capable of delivering a lethal blow. With such a force, Bragg was able to look to more risky opportunities that would offset the Union strategic gains in the west and regain Tennessee and perhaps set the stage for Kentucky.19 Private Sam Watkins of the 1st Tennessee recorded the positive change in morale from the melancholy atmosphere at Corinth to when new lifeblood in the army emerged. "We were in an ecstasy akin to heaven. We were happy; the troops were jubilant; our manhood blood pulsated more warmly; our patriotism was awakened; our pride was renewed and stood ready for any emergency; we felt that one Southern man could whip twenty Yankees. All was lovely and 16 Charles Marshall, Lees Aide-De-Camp: Being the Papers of Colonel Charles Marshall Sometime Aide-De-Camp, Military Secretary, and Assistant Adjutant General on the Staff of Robert E. Lee, 1862-1865, Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, and Frederick Maurice, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. 74. 17 Sears, To the Gates of Richmond, 346-347. 18 John J. Hennessy, Return to Bull Run: The Battle and Campaign of Second Manassas. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1999. 468-472. 19 Earl J. Hess, Banners to the Breeze: the Kentucky Campaign, Corinth, and Stones River, Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 2010. 19-22. 11 the goose hung high." 20 Although the Confederates had suffered initial setbacks early in 1862, the advantages afforded by conciliation, cautious Federal leadership, and the emergence of Lee and Bragg allowed for a reversal of fortunes. In 1862 Southern patriotism was running high; the idea of independence and the Confederate soldier's superiority was at its wartime peak. 21 Lee's decision to invade Maryland was political in nature. Maryland Campaign historians, Joseph Harsh, Scot Hartwig, Stephen Sears, James Murfin, and Ezra Carman while differing on strategic matters, all agree that Lee's primary purpose was to secure a decisive victory which would gain the South the political victory; either in the form of Northern domestic politics or international recognition and or intervention. The application of political pressure to Lee's offensive outweighs all the deficiencies faced by his army in the logistical realm, and further illustrated his grasp on the delicacy of Northern political division. Clearly, he understood this division and had faith that his smaller, ill-supplied force had a chance to deliver a blow that would fracture the Northern populace and produce an outcome that favored the South. General Lee suggested his understanding of such matters in a letter to President Jefferson Davis while in Dranesville on September 3. "The present seems to be the most propitious time since the commencement of the war for the Confederate Army to enter Maryland.….if it is ever desired to give material aid to Maryland and afford her and opportunity of throwing off the oppression to which she is now subject, this would seem the most favorable." 22 The domestic and foreign political objectives acting as primary motives for the "invasion," were in that instant equal to the strategic goals which accompanied them when 20 Samuel R. Watkins, Company Aytch or A Side Show of the Big Show: A Memoir of the Civil War. Edited by Ruth Hill Fulton McAllister. Nashville, TN: Turner, 2011. 45. 21 Joseph T. Glatthaar, General Lee's Army: From Victory to Collapse, New York: Free Press, 2008. 207; James Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Edited by Ned Bradford. New York: The Fairfax Press, 1979. 263. 22 United States War Department, The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 19. Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. 590. 12 defining the military value of the campaign; this is a unique feature to the Maryland Campaign and its condition for victory, while only a secondary task in Kentucky. In contrast historian Edwin Coddington paints a different picture for Lee's purposes in the Pennsylvania Campaign of 1863. Coddington outlined that Lee, in this part of the war, contended with the new Federal doctrine of "hard war" and emancipation, eliminating the decisive battle matched with the political advantage that existed in 1862. Therefore, Lee's only real option was to defeat the Army of the Potomac in detail, earning a strategic victory rather than a political one. 23 Such a task required adequate logistics, and a complete and total battlefield victory, two factors that eluded the Confederacy during the war. Such victory conditions presented to Lee in 1862 were unique and would never materialize again in any substantial form. Political division in the North was at fever pitch in the late summer of 1862; evidence of the discord's depth is apparent in everything from personal letters through Northern news outlets. Robert E. Lee, an avid reader of Northern papers, understood this notion and sought to exploit it. Domestically, Northern Democrats maintained a loud voice in critical regions and states, which only grew more robust and more resilient with each military shortcoming and failure. August and early September saw a heightened level of panic and discouragement in the North, with Pope's defeat and Lee's invasion of Maryland, while at the same time Kirby Smith's Confederate Army of Kentucky demonstrated against Cincinnati. Pennsylvania was understandably the most unnerved due to its proximity to Maryland and vital war infrastructure, and its Republican governor Andrew Curtin's demand for 80,000 troops to defend his state embodied it. Additionally, the mayors of the influential northern cities of Harrisburg, Philadelphia, and 23 Edwin B. Coddington, The Gettysburg Campaign: A Study in Command, New York: Simon and Schuster. 1968. 6-7. 13 Baltimore were alarmed, fearing their respective city was the target of Lee's advancing legions.24 In Cincinnati, the situation turned somewhat drastic. After destroying the Union forces at Richmond, Kentucky on August 30, Kirby Smith as a result had a clear road to the Ohio River. Understandably Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio all worried what Smith's next move would be while they scrambled to organize bodies of troops. General Lew Wallace arrived in Cincinnati, declared martial law and quickly set about organizing a defense. 25 With panic to the extremity of declaring martial law, the Northern population began to question their ability to win the war openly. Prominent figures such as George Templeton Strong, Samuel Galloway, Reverend Robert Laird Collier, and Senator Garrett Davis, spoke not only for themselves but also for the majority of the people by openly challenging President Lincoln and his administration on their ability to conduct the war. The accusations included Lincoln's unfitness for the Presidency, the constant change of military leadership in the east, which showed instability and was severely hurting morale in the North. Demands also arose that there be a complete reorganization of the Administration. 26 The Lincoln Administration's threat of a draft, unless an additional 300,000 volunteers could be raised created further tension. The idea of a draft disgusted many Northerners; however, with "patriotic" spirit enticed by bounties, nine-month service, and the threat of draft, the ranks of new regiments began to fill in late summer of 1862, only hitting forty-five percent of the intended quota. 27 The Union soldiers themselves cast a gloomy mood over the situation and expressed their views with varying levels of disgust. Lieutenant Elisha Hunt Rhodes of the 2nd 24 David H. Donald, Lincoln, New York, NY: Touchstone, 1996. 373. 25 Vernon L. Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground": Major General Lew Wallace Commands Cincinnati, September 1862." Indiana Magazine of History 85, no. 2 (1989): 139. 26 Donald, Lincoln, 373. 27 McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom, 492. 14 Rhode Island expressed in his diary that: "I fear we are no nearer the end of the war than we were when we first landed at Fortress Monroe five months ago." 28 Captain Francis Donaldson of the 118th Pennsylvania captured the mood in Washington: "We are constant witness of the sad plight of the Army of the Potomac, as thousands of Genl. Pope's troops in great demoralization are ever passing the Fort in retreat to Washington. The poor old Army of the Potomac, how I pity it." 29 Captain Henry Pearson of the 6th New Hampshire also expressed his views in the aftermath of Second Manassas: "You need not be surprised if success falls to the rebels with astonishing rapidity." 30 Brigadier General Marsena Patrick's opinion bordered on insurrection: "There is a general feeling that the Southern Confederacy will be recognized & that they deserve recognition." 31 Lieutenant Charles Seton Fleming of the 2nd Florida Infantry, in a letter home to his mother describing the aftermath of the Second Manassas campaign, echoed Patrick's views when he wrote: "Our victory is complete, even the Yankee prisoners acknowledge it." 32 Lieutenant Colonel Henry Hubbell of the 3rd New York wrote in August 1862: "I am not sure that it would not be a good thing to have the rebels get possession of Washington however, as it might waken up the north to the fact that we are having a war in earnest, and not merely playing soldier…. We have got men & means enough in the north to put an end to this war in 90 days, if they would only go at it in earnest and let politics & the nigger alone." 33 28 Elisha Hunt Rhodes, All for the Union: A History of the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry in the War of the Great Rebellion. Edited by Robert Hunt Rhodes. Lincoln, RI: A. Mowbray, 1985. 69. 29 Francis Adams Donaldson, Inside the Army of the Potomac: The Civil War Experience of Captain Francis Adams Donaldson. Edited by J. Gregory Acken. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1998. 104. 30 D. Scott Hartwig, To Antietam Creek: the Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2019. 134-135. 31 Ibid., 134-135. 32 Francis P. Fleming, A Memoir of Captain C. Seton Fleming: of the Second Florida Infantry, C.S.A., Reprint 1985: Jacksonville: Times-Union Publishing House, 1884. 66. 33 Simon P. Newman, "A Democrat in Lincoln's Army: The Civil War Letters of Henry P. Hubbell." The Princeton University Library Chronicle 50, no. 2 (1989): 155-68. 157. 15 Hubbell eluded to the growing discord of racial issues that many Democrats saw as an unnecessary and politically charged motive to a war that was supposed to be strictly for preserving the Union. Nevertheless, this issue began to transform the cause of the war in the summer of 1862, adding only more weight to a very delicate political situation. Hubbell's feelings weren't isolated; instead, the sense that the war was taking on a new front to end slavery infuriated many Northerners. Hubbell's views on racial matters and slavery were not limited to himself, in fact, the stiffest opposition to war that had anything to do with freeing slaves came from the Midwest states; where racism was an epidemic culturally, especially in the Army of the Ohio. The talk of national emancipation led hundreds of men to desert and, in some cases, join the Confederacy. 34 Sentiments similar to these echoed across the Union armies and, undoubtedly, were shared by family and friends on the home front. Some individuals turned bitter, and perhaps extreme, which reflected political, ideological, and sectional differences in the North, which under the pressure of a seemingly collapsing system reared its ugly head. The term "invasion" has been used several times thus far, especially by the Union's most publicized general, George McClellan. This term and others related to it divided the minds of many of those who had significant power to dictate the war. Abraham Lincoln, at no point, recognized the Confederacy as a legitimate entity. He always maintained that the Southern States were in rebellion and needed to be brought back into the Union. Interestingly, his senior generals in 1862, mostly Democrats, saw the Confederate offensives as invasions, insinuating their conscious or subconscious recognition that Confederate armies were "foreign invaders" intent on doing harm, which helped fuel the panic, frustration, and seemingly lost Union cause ideology. 35 34 Daniel, Days of Glory, 101. 35 Andrew Pooley, "Shoo-ing the Geese: Lincoln and the Army of the Potomac, 1862-1863." Australian Journal of American Studies 21, no.2 (2002): 86-100. 86-87. 16 Jefferson Davis, the Confederate cabinet, Robert E. Lee, Braxton Bragg, and all the other high-ranking Confederate officers comprehended the growing Northern political disunion. This is evident in the decision to approve a Confederate offensive and the string of strategic goals associated with it. The Army of Northern Virginia, for example, fulfilled its duty of defeating the Federals time and again, completely reversing the tide of the war in the east. As Robert E. Lee sat at his headquarters in the aftermath of Chantilly, it had become abundantly clear that he now possessed the opportunity to strike the decisive blow against whatever Union army would oppose him in Maryland or Pennsylvania, which would likely result in some sort of peace talks. 36 Lieutenant Colonel Edward Porter Alexander Chief of Ordnance in the Army of Northern Virginia saw the picture as clear as Lee. Referring to the army, we wrote: "His [Lee's] army had, that magnificent morale which made them equal to twice their numbers, & which they never lost even to the surrender at Appomattox. And his confidence in them, & theirs in him, were so equal that no man can yet say which was greatest. And no old soldier need ask a prouder record than is implied in that fact. By going into Maryland Gen. Lee could at least subsist his army for a while upon the enemy, & he doubtless hoped, too, for a chance to force the Federal army to come out & fight him under favorable conditions." 37 Confederate officer William Allan, reverberated Alexander's sentiments when he wrote of the Army of Northern Virginia: "its spirit at this time was high. A series of brilliant successes had given it unbounded confidence in itself and its leaders, and the ragged dirty soldiers hailed with joy the advance across the Potomac." 38 The comparison of the Federal and Confederate views as indicated from primary sources, on 36 Hartwig, To Antietam Creek, 52-53. 37 Edward Porter Alexander, Fighting for the Confederacy: The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, United States: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000. 139. 38 William Allan, The Army of Northern Virginia in 1862, Reprint: Middletown: DE, 2020. 273. 17 leadership and the progress of the war at the beginning of the Maryland Campaign were clearly in favor of the South. The leadership of Don Carlos Buell is a prime example of political dissatisfaction, both on the home front and in the army. While McClellan was unpopular with the Administration, he still held favor with most of his officers, and certainly the rank and file of the army and the nation. Buell, however, faced contention on three similar fronts – The Indiana bloc, the general and field officers of the First Division, and the supporters of Alexander McCook, one of his corps commanders. Much of the disgust with Buell occurred during the Kentucky Campaign. This break in unified efforts favored the Confederate cause, particularly in swaying popular opinion in Kentucky. Republican Indiana newspapers ripped into Buell's leadership, declaring that he was completely mishandling the pursuit of two Confederate armies that were ripping up Kentucky and potentially heading towards Indiana, Ohio, or Illinois. Some newspapers called for his immediate dismissal, and a few even demanded he be shot. 39 When comparing Lee and his army to Buell and his, there formulates a fascinating dissection of the polar extremes in popular and political opinion. Lee and his men were on the top of their game, while Buell's forces were at a low ebb. Using these two examples as the basis of measurement, it becomes apparent that overall, the Confederate forces enjoyed a much higher sense of public support and favorability then their Union counterparts did at that particular moment in the war. Scholars have hotly debated the prospect of European powers, particularly England and France intervening and mediating an end to the conflict. The idea of such a prospect was undoubtedly the primary goal for the Confederate strategy in the autumn of 1862. It is essential to view the idea of European intervention in the simplest of forms. The Southern strategy partly 39 Daniel, 128-129. 18 hinged on it, as can be observed via strategic decisions and public opinion, the North, however, feared the prospect. Intervention and mediation on any level would, in the end, be more beneficial to the South, and the Lincoln Administration would appear as incapable; in short, it would be a disaster for the North and Republicans. 40 The onset of a "cotton famine" and the scandal of the Trent affair occurred amid all the politically charged events in 1862, resulting in the British sending an additional 11,000 men to Canada and forcing Lincoln to tread lightly in foreign political matters. 41 Historian Max Beloff believed that the possibility of British intervention was extremely likely in 1862, mainly due to the North's refusal to make anti-slavery sentiments the basis of their cause, instead still focusing on the preservation of the Union, which only supported the pro-Southern faction in Parliament. 42 An examination of Southern newspapers and other editorials, shows public opinion in the South at the beginning of the war was universal in the belief that Great Britain would be forced, through the power of cotton, to intervene either by raising the blockade or by recognizing the Confederate States as an independent nation or perhaps both. 43 Regardless of the likelihood of actual intervention or recognition, the idea of it greatly influenced Confederate leaders, particularly Lee, who notated such objective goals in his correspondence with Davis. Davis agreed outlining his desires in a communication to Lee on September 7. He reminded Lee that the Confederacy was waging war solely for self-defense. Through the eight points he outlined as the guiding principles for the field armies to abide by, Davis continually revolved his doctrine around political objectives whose chief purpose were to achieve peace with the United States. If the South maintained a self- 40 McPherson, 444. 41 Nelson, A People at War, 166. 42 Max Beloff, "Historical Revision No. CXVIII: Great Britain and the American Civil War." History, New Series, 37, no. 129, (1952): 40-48. 42. 43 Schuyler Dean Hoslett, "The Richmond Daily Press on British Intervention in the Civil War: A Brief Summary." The William and Mary Quarterly 20, no. 1 (1940): 79-83. 80. 19 defense posture, with the objective of peace through battlefield victory; then the likelihood of positive European intervention on their behalf had a much higher probability, which in turn could possibly bring a speedy end to the war with terms that favored the Confederacy. 44 Logistical Concerns and Organizational Components: While the South always lagged behind the North in terms of finance, economy, manufacturing, manpower, and many other logistical concerns, the disparity was narrower in 1862 than in the coming years. As a point of contention, several trends and circumstances in the Union war effort benefited the South more than it aided the Union on the grand stage. Concerning logistics, Clausewitz's maxim states: "The dependence on the base increases in intensity and extent with the size of the Army, which is easy to understand. An Army is like a tree. From the ground out of which it grows it draws it's nourishment; if it is small it can easily be transplanted, but this becomes more difficult as it increases in size….When therefore, we talk of the influence of the base on the operations of an Army, the dimensions of the Army must always serve as the scale by which to measure the magnitude of that influence." 45 This axiom is precisely the predicament of the Northern war effort in the first two years of the war. The logistical portion of this study will examine the condition and availability of uniforms and equipment, quality of weaponry then in circulation, training and experience of soldiers, and finally the ability of each government to produce and supply its troops effectively. A logistical understanding is crucial for understanding the obstacles and conditions faced by the armies and how it dictated their effectiveness on campaign and immediate tactical ability on the battlefield in 1862. The South, as previously stated from the very beginning of the war, was behind its 44 OR, vol 19, 1: 598-599. 45 Clausewitz, On War, 353-354. 20 opponent in logistical matters; however, the North in 1862 was not at the climax in its ability of production and supply, and therefore lacked significantly in certain areas. However, it is essential to note that the limitations of the Federal logistical system by the fall of 1862 were only a few months shy of efficiently supplying the vast number of troops in the field. The first evidence of a marked change in the Union's logistical ability emerged in the Chancellorsville Campaign's genesis, after the winter of 1862-63. 46 Accepting the notion that the Confederate armies were in rough shape logistically; it is important to note that the primary leadership in the field was acutely aware of the shortages. However, the unfolding opportunity demanded a military strike that outweighed logistical concerns. Therefore, an examination into the Federal system's shortcomings is necessary to show the benefits it offered toward the Confederacy. The United States Army in the Antebellum period contained roughly 15,000 men of all arms. Compared with an army of 600,000 men in 1862, it is understandable that there would be significant shortcomings and hurdles to overcome in a nation that, as a rule, did not trust professional armies nor want to foot the bill for one. Nevertheless, the North had a clear advantage when it came to industrialization and manufacturing. Over one million Northerners worked in industrial jobs, ten times more than their Southern counterparts. Furthermore, the North contained roughly 100,000 factories compared to the South's 20,000. 47 Yet, as already pointed out, the prewar army was tiny and supplied with uniforms and equipment solely from the Schuylkill Arsenal in Philadelphia. Additionally, the arsenals producing firearms were limited, with all those existing in the South subsequently seized upon secession, having fewer firearms available to Northern regiments. 48 The North, therefore, would have to raise and equip an army 46 Stephen Sears, Chancellorsville, New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1996. 71-75 47 Matthew S. Muehlbauer and David J. Ulbrich, Ways of War: American Military History from the Colonial Era to the Twenty-First Century. New York: Routledge, 2018. 174-175. 48 Joseph E. Chance, The Second Texas Infantry, From Shiloh to Vicksburg, Austin: Eakin Press, 1984. 16, 24. 21 primarily with outdated weapons and with an industrial system that wasn't geared toward war manufacturing. The North's only saving grace was its economic might. 49 Economically it is crucial to understand that the Union that won the war in 1865, was not the same financial institution nor economy in 1861 and 1862. It was in major part due to the Legal Tender Act of 1862 and the National Currency Act of 1863, that the North was able to pay for the sustainment of the war; yet it took time for these acts to take effect. Therefore, in 1862 financially, the North was undoubtedly at its weakest; many of the state and municipal banks, especially those in border states, had closed their doors, while millions of businesses and private civilians hoarded gold. 50 The Union was only able to field the armies it did in 1861-1862 because of its ability to pay for the conversion and development of machinery needed for equipment, weaponry, and uniforms while relying initially on its prewar militia. Faced with arming a massive army overnight, the United States was forced to arm many of its regiments with outdated firearms, such as the M-1842 Smoothbore musket, and the M-1816 Flintlocks that were converted to percussion, in addition to supplementing itself with foreign weapons, from Britain, Belgium, France, Austria, and others. These weapons except those from Britain, proved to be severely outdated compared to the technology available in the 1860s. The importance of recognizing the sub-standard firearms is their effectiveness on the battlefield and the potentiality of changing the outcome in a crucial moment in a battle. In an era of the rifled musket that was accurate from 250-300 yards, a typical smoothbore musket ranged from 80-100 yards. A significant portion of Federal troops were armed with outdated weapons in the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns. A focus on any of the principal engagements in that time frame will show that regiments armed 49 McPherson, 442-445. 50 Nelson, 132-133. 22 with such weapons were in certain circumstances ineffective on the immediate tactical plane, and perhaps beneficial to their adversary. The disparity of weapons had begun to improve for the North in 1862; however, the infusion of nearly 300,000 volunteers during the summer of 1862 created a logistical gap once again. Many of the existing regiments in the army still shouldered outdated weapons, and now with legions of new men forming, these troops found themselves supplied with weapons that were unequal to the rigors of Civil War combat. Of this second wave of new recruits, the 12th New Jersey Volunteers serve as an excellent microcosm to examine the Union's logistical deficiencies in the rush to arm new recruits in 1862. Initially, the Jerseymen expected to receive the celebrated Enfield rifle; instead, they ended up with the inferior Austrian Lorenz, which was later exchanged in Washington for the equally outdated 1842 Springfield musket, although they saw this as an improvement over the detested Austrian rifle. 51 While every regiment's experience is different, the new wave and veterans alike in 1862 experienced some level of logistical deficiency that impacted their abelites on campaign or in battle. Aside from weapons, much of the equipment in the Army of the Potomac and the Army of the Ohio at the beginning of the Confederate offensives were at the end of its serviceable life span, due to months of active campaigning, and the inability to properly re-muster the army on a large scale because of the continuity of Confederate aggressiveness, which certainly affected their performance as a cohesive fighting force. Brigadier General Abner Doubleday who commanded a brigade at Second Manassas submitted requisitions to replace equipment and clothing just before the onset of the Maryland Campaign, noted in disgust: "owing to the great number [of other officers] making requisitions, mine were not filled and we were soon obliged to 51 Edward G. Longacre, To Gettysburg and Beyond: The Twelfth New Jersey Volunteer Infantry, II Corps, Army of the Potomac, 1862-1865, Hightstown: Longstreet House, 1988. 24. 23 take the field deficient in everything." 52 This sentiment was backed up by Captain James Wren of the IX Corps, who wrote that the men in his division "looked very bad, being Lousey, Dirty & Almost naked & worn out." 53 The soldiers in the Army of the Ohio were in equally if not worse shape. The vast distances covered by the Western Theater's armies created long supply lines, which fell victim to frequent raids from rebel cavalry. T.J. Wright of the 8th Kentucky Infantry noted in his diary that the Army of the Ohio was: "the hungriest, raggedest, tiredest, dirtiest, lousiest and sleepiest set of men the hardships of this or any other war ever produced." 54 While it is certain that the Confederates were in equally bad situations logistically, they had the benefit victory behind them in the east, and in Bragg's army's case, high morale. Another major struggle for the Federals in 1862 was the ability to get the supplies to its armies. The reason is not one specific aspect, but rather a compilation of bureaucracy, corruption, and lack of precedent to draw off. McClellan's army on the Peninsula had to be supplied from the sea, Pope in command of the Army of Virginia never took the time to ensure his troops had everything they needed, and Buell's army along with the rest of the western forces contended with long supply lines originating in Cairo Illinois, that were frequently raided by Confederate cavalry. The 16th Maine Infantry is a classic example of the suffering that occurred in a system that was outside its capabilities in 1862. The regiment's adjutant and historian Abner Small wrote: "How those men suffered! Hunger, daily felt, was nothing compared with it. Men of education, of refinement, and wealth, who willingly and cheerfully gave up home, with all its love and comfort, for country, made to feel degraded for want of clothing!" Small then describes 52 Hartwig, 137. 53 Ibid., 137. 54 Kenneth W. Noe, Perryville: This Grand Havoc of Battle. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2011. 89. 24 the horrendous conditions: "…without shelter, without overcoats, shoeless, hatless, and hundreds without blankets; and through all that long, sad, and weary tramp, we were jeered at, insulted, and called the "Blanket Brigade!" 55 While examples like this are on the extreme, the narrative fits when assessing the entire logistical picture of the Army of the Potomac in September 1862. The term logistics also dovetails into organizational tables. Aside from sharing similar shortcomings in the area of supply and outdated weaponry, Lee's Army of Northern Virginia was by far the superior force in leadership, experience, and organization when compared with McClellan's force. By September 2, 1862, nearly 61 percent of Lee's infantry had fought in three or more major battles, and 81 percent fought in two or more. All of his 184 infantry regiments were veterans of at least one battle. Not only were Lee's regiments superior in this regard, but his brigade commanders were highly efficient as well. Twenty-seven of Lee's forty brigades were veterans of two or more major battles, while the remaining thirteen had fought in either the Seven Days or Second Manassas. On the divisional level, the highest official level of organization at that point for the A.N.V.; all of the eleven divisions had seen at least one battle. 56 The Union leadership backed this notion up as well. It was widely accepted, and a point still argued amongst historians, that the Southern fighting man was superior. This mythology has far back as the American Revolution corroboration has its roots in early Confederate victories, particularly at First and Second Manassas, the Shenandoah Valley, and the Seven Days battles. These victories generated an aura of invincibility around the Army of Northern Virginia that transcended into the minds of the Federal troops. 57 In fact Lee, true to form was in the first days of September 1862, the living epithet of Baron De Jomini's maxims, "the general should do 55 Abner Ralph Small, The Sixteenth Maine Regiment in the War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865. London: Forgotten Books, 2015. 38. 56 Joseph L. Harsh, Taken at the Flood Robert E. Lee and Confederate Strategy in the Maryland Campaign of 1862. Ashland: The Kent State University Press, 2013. 39-40 57 Pooley, "Shoo-ing the Geese", 88. 25 everything to electrify his own soldiers, and to impart to them the same enthusiasm which he endeavors to repress his adversaries….in general, a cherished cause, and a general who inspires the confidence by previous success, are powerful means of electrifying an army and conducing to victory." 58 In contrast, McClellan's forces reformed into the Army of the Potomac, could not boast anything near the statistics of the Army of Northern Virginia could. September 1862 was the most disorganized and weakest the Army of the Potomac would find itself in the duration of the war. This school of thought canceled out, at least temporarily, any deficiencies faced by Lee's forces. When George B. McClellan rode out of Washington to take command, he found three very different organizations, each with its own command, divisional, brigade, artillery, cavalry, transportation, and quartermaster structures. Additionally, the newly formed regiments, many of whom were only a few weeks old, were rushed to the front and infused into the disorganized mess. Organizing these separate organizations into one effective command would weeks if not months, McClellan would be forced to do it in a matter of days, while in motion, in addition to planning a short-term strategy to deal with Lee. 59 The chaos of the reorganization is apparent in the 5th New York Volunteers' experience. Historian Brian Pohanka related an instance of the 5th as they passed McClellan on the march toward western Maryland: "As they marched, General McClellan reined up beside the troops of Warren's brigade. 'Well, and how is the Old Fifth this evening?' he asked. 'First rate, General, but we'd be better off if we weren't living so much on supposition." 60 Even though he had the bigger force, the disorganization and confusion associated with the rapidity of the Maryland Campaign denied the general his army's full might 58 Baron De Jomini, The Art of War, Translated by Capt. G.H. Mendell, and Lieut. W.P. Craighill, Radford: Wilder Publications, 2008. 30-31. 59 Hartwig, 133-136. 60 Brian C. Pohanka, Vortex of Hell: History of the 5th New York Volunteer Infantry. Lynchburg, VA: Schroeder Publications, 2012. 369. 26 on the battlefield. In different circumstances these obstacles may have been overcome had McClellan had time to prepare. Robert E. Lee sensed his enemy's weakness and used it as part of his foundation to seek permission from President Davis to invade Maryland. "The two grand armies of the United States that have been operating in Virginia, though now united, are much weakened and demoralized. Their new levies, of which I understand 60,000 men have already been posted in Washington, are not yet organized, and will take some time to prepare for the field." 61 Lee identified that his logistical situation was terrible, however, he recognized the unfolding opportunity in front of him. "The army is not properly equipped for an invasion of an enemy's territory. It lacks much of the material of war, is feeble in transportation, the animals being much reduced, and the men are poorly provided with clothes, and in thousands of instances are destitute of shoes. Still, we cannot not afford to be idle, and though weaker than our opponents in men and military equipment's, must endeavor to harass if we cannot destroy them. I am aware that the movement is attended with much risk, yet I do not consider success impossible, and shall endeavor to guard it from loss." 62 The amount of stock Lee put into the Federals logistical organization is apparent. In fact, if taken as a whole, his reliance on the overall Federal weakness is one of his only justifications for his ill-supplied and smaller force to go on the offensive. Additionally, these logistical matters, both of his own and the Federal weakness, coincide directly with Lee's desire to deliver a decisive blow to the Federals quickly. There was not a better opportunity to do it and expect fruitful results, then while the Army of Potomac was at its weakest moment, structurally, organizationally, numerically, and logistically. 61 OR, vol 19, 1: 590-591. 62 Ibid., 590-591. 27 Lee's conclusion of the ill-preparedness of the new Union regiments applies not only to the troops in his sector but also to those in the Western Theater. Much like Lee's army within reach of Washington, Kirby Smith's small army in Kentucky created a panic and proved Lee's theory on the reliability of new soldiers. Kirby Smith successfully and thoroughly destroyed an equally sized Federal force of raw recruits at Richmond, Kentucky, on August 30, 1862, eliminating them from the military equation. Historian Kenneth Noe termed the battle of Richmond as "the most lopsided Confederate victory of the war, as Kirby Smith's men inflicted casualties so staggering that entire Union brigades ceased to exist." 63 With Smith's incursion into Kentucky, a vacuum of chaos erupted in the region, in particular, Ohio. The microcosm of Cincinnati infuses both the political and the serious logistical problems faced by the North in 1862. Historian Vernon Volpe pointed out, "Although the influx of [Union] volunteers was inspiring, with it came a shortage of arms, ammunition, and other equipment needed to outfit the troops properly." 64 This example was echoed across the entire Kentucky region in 1862. Although McClellan's army outnumbered Lee with a total of roughly 87,000 men, twenty percent of his infantry were raw, having been in the army just a handful of weeks and had not even come close to mastering the level of proficiency needed in drill and tactics to be effective on a Civil War battlefield. 65 Even though the Federals were able to put fresh regiments into the field, it became an issue of quantity versus quality. The unfortunate story of the 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers is a classic case in point of these raw troops' ineffectiveness. Arriving to the Army of the Potomac just a few days before the battle of Antietam, the men prepared to enter their first engagement on September 19 at Shepherdstown. Their regimental historian 63 Noe, Perryville, 39. 64 Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground", 146. 65 Hartwig, 139. 28 wrote: "The teachings of the battalion-drill near Sharpsburg on the previous day [September 18] now had practical application." The 118th's Colonel stated in his official report that: "We returned their fire as fast as possible, but soon found that our Enfield rifles were so defective that quite one-fourth of them would not explode the caps." 66 The 118th's story, while extreme is not unique, another raw Federal regiment the 128th Pennsylvania found itself in an even worse circumstance, owing to its lack of training. The 128th Pennsylvania arrived at the army just days before as well and were assigned to the newly organized XII Corps, which itself contained some of the highest proportions of raw troops. During the battle of Antietam, the new regiment found itself in Miller's Cornfield and due lack of basic drill unable to maneuver itself back onto its brigade in the face of onrushing Confederates. Officers and sergeants from experienced neighboring outfits were sent to try and move the bewildered regiment all to no avail. In the end, the 128th was left to its fate and was nearly destroyed, having no effect on the enemy and only weakening their own brigades' position. 67 Stories similar in nature can be found across the Army of the Potomac on every sector of each battlefield during the Maryland Campaign, each in the midst of their own mishaps allowing the Confederates a level of superiority while hindering their supporting elements an opportunity to exploit any gains. Don Carlos Buell's Army of the Ohio experienced similar circumstances with green regiments as its eastern counterpart. In a letter to Kirby Smith, Bragg detailed his understanding that Buell's men were in rough shape and utterly demoralized. These circumstances, Bragg believed, offered the South a greater benefit of success. 68 The raw, ill-trained, ill-equipped, and completely unprepared 105th Ohio, 123rd Illinois, and 21st Wisconsin infantry regiments were 66 Survivors' Association 118th (Corn Exchange) Regt., P.V., History of the Corn Exchange Regiment 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers,62. 67 Stephen W. Sears, Landscape Turned Red. New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1994. 206. 68 United States War Department, The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 16: Part 2. Correspondence, Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. 754. 29 all glaring examples of this shortcoming. The 123rd Illinois found itself in a similar predicament as the 128th Pennsylvania at Antietam, exposed and on its own, and fell victim to veteran Confederate troops bearing down on them. The 105th Ohio, equally as green, found itself thrown into the breach in the midst of the 123rd Illinois collapse. Private Ayre of the 105th remarked: "…could not form into a proper line and after going through several maneuvers in order to do so we became mixed and confused." In similar fashion to the 123rd Illinois, the 105th Ohio was quickly stampeded by their Confederate attackers. 69 Much like the inferiority of outdated weapons, untrained, raw troops could not perform to a tactically sufficient level to keep par with the rapid pace and constantly changing conditions of a Civil War battlefield. While plenty of experienced units did exist in the Union armies, it is clear the inexperienced ones created more problems, affording the Confederate forces golden opportunities to exploit immediate tactical advantages they likely would not have had, had they been fighting experienced, or even trained troops. On the other side of the coin, the copious amounts of raw units severely hampered any notion gaining a decisive victory or rapidly following up a pursuit. This is evident in the in the results of Antietam and Perryville, both of which were Confederate tactical victories, and the speed at which Lee and Bragg's armies were pursued. The armies' organization is important when looking to understand the advantages and disadvantages and how this affected a particular side's likelihood of victory. The experience level and the amount of subpar weaponry in both the armies of the Potomac and Ohio was only one issue, their organizational structure in both leadership and how its units were grouped confounded their problems and offered the Confederates another edge over their opponent pushing the scale further in favor in the equation of obtaining a victory. As previously stated, the 69 Stuart W. Sanders, Maney's Confederate Brigade at the Battle of Perryville, Charleston: The History Press, 2014. 53-54. 30 Army of the Potomac during the Maryland Campaign was a conglomeration of several different organizations. It contained the II, V, and VI Corps the original Army of the Potomac, the re-designated I and XII Corps, the Army of Virginia, and the newly dubbed IX that had served on the North Carolina coast. Although there were certainly experienced troops and leaders in each of these components, they each spoke a different organizational "language." 70 George McClellan certainly had the most difficult task of any field commander regarding the organization of his army. Not only did he have three different organizations to mold together as a cohesive fighting force, but he also had the additional struggle of doing it on the fly in a military and national emergency. Therefore, although the Army of the Potomac was a potent fighting force, and managed to engage the Confederates, its capabilities in terms of operational effectiveness were severely limited. Buell's circumstances were much more appealing. His Army of the Ohio had remained intact as a cohesive fighting force since its formation; however, he received additional reinforcements from Grant, and a host of new regiments, diluting its effectiveness as an organization. The Army of the Ohio's real organizational issues manifested in the senior leadership's quirks, rivalries, and lack of cohesion. 71 The use of cavalry in both McClellan and Buell's forces paled in comparison to the South. This issue stemmed from the Federal government's inability to recognize the importance of that specific branch early in the conflict. Overwhelmingly, the cavalry found its commands broken apart and scattered across the army, acting in various guard and staff related duties. Those commands retained to perform the primary tasks of nineteenth-century, reconnaissance, screening, and raids were too few and spread out to have any significant impact on the outcome 70 Hartwig, 133-135. 71 Steven E. Woodworth, Nothing but Victory: The Army of the Tennessee, 1861-1865. New York: Vintage, 2005. 216. 31 of the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns. 72 Although they lacked in cavalry ability the Federals were unquestionably superior in artillery. Union guns, although far superior to that of the South were severely flawed organizationally in 1862. Circling back to the theme of different organizational structures in McClellan's force, the arrangement of this branch varied, causing communication issues, and leadership vacuums. In common with the cavalry, the prominent artillery structure in 1862 in both the Army of the Potomac and Army of the Ohio, lacked a unified system of command; instead, most batteries were the responsibility of brigade commanders or divisional commanders. Therefore, at critical moments batteries could only take orders from infantry commanders and were presented with the difficult task of coordinating mass firing on specific targets. 73 While it may seem trivial, such inefficiency in employment and "bureaucratic red tape" of military organization prevented the cavalry and artillery from performing at its maximum potential which no doubt contributed to the shortcomings of the Union armies in 1862. The Confederate military organization also had its flaws; however, as previously noted, the experience level of Confederate forces as a whole were much higher and able to adapt to a situation more efficiently. Partly this had to do with the smaller size of the forces overall, and the Confederate authorities' choice to disperse recruits and conscripts across seasoned units rather than raise new organizations. The cavalry of J.E.B. Stuart, John Hunt Morgan, and Nathan Bedford Forrest for instance were vastly superior to their Federal counterparts in every respect. These commands were led well, centralized, and overall contained extremely efficient horsemen, which had proven themselves time and again on the battlefield. 74 Confederate artillery was 72 Hartwig, 155-158. 73 Curt Johnson and Richard C. Anderson, Jr., Artillery Hell: The Employment of Artillery at Antietam, College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1995. 53; Daniel, 146, 148-150. 74 Hartwig, 88-90; Hess, Banners to the Breeze, 24. 32 generally inferior in respect to quality of mechanics, yet, the branch retained a slight advantage over its foes in its organization. Lee's artillery was organized on the divisional level, allowing for easier deployment, and concentrated fire, as the Army of Northern Virginia, did not have a corps structure during this time, division commanders held greater authority in placement and employment of artillery. Furthermore, several groups of divisions fell under an unofficial "wing" structure, allowing Jackson and Longstreet to concentrate guns further. 75 Bragg organized his army different than Lee's army. Bragg operated with two wings or corps, broken down into several divisions. His army maintained an organized and effective cavalry force; however, their weakest point was the artillery. Only fifty-six guns accompanied the Army of Mississippi into Kentucky compared to Buell's 147 guns. These Confederate guns like the Federals were assigned to individual brigades, same as its Federal counterpart, eliminating opportunities to converge fire effectively. 76 Understanding the organizational structure of an army allows for a realistic understanding of what that force is capable of; how it moves in the larger scheme of a campaign; and the benefits and challenges of its employment on the tactical level. Assuming the forces involved were all organized in the same fashion, with identical structures is detrimental in interpreting the ebb and flow of battles and campaigns. A clear picture of how a field army operates through an organizational table is, therefore, paramount. Using Lee and McClellan as examples illustrate the nature of this point. In the Maryland Campaign, Lee was able to give more direct orders to independent division commanders, therefore reducing somewhat the natural confusion begot of transferring and disseminating orders through multiple tiers of officers. On the other hand, McClellan had to give orders to "wing" commanders, who then cut the orders to corps 75 Johnson, Artillery Hell, 41-47. 76 Noe, 370-373, 381-382. 33 commanders then down to the divisional level, doubling the amount of personalities the orders had to go through compared to Lee's forces. It is clear from watching the battles of Antietam and Perryville's tactical evolution that the commanding generals' intent was time and again ineffectually carried out due to communication breakdown and misinterpretation of orders on both sides. Having only scratched the surface of the organizational components of only four of the principal armies involved in the fall of 1862, it becomes clear that each differed in how it chose to conduct its internal operations. However, it is equally apparent from this brief examination, that Confederate forces in the fall of 1862 were better organized and tactically more efficient than their Federal counterparts in Maryland and Kentucky, therefore lending an edge to overall Confederate success and perhaps victory. Strategic Considerations: The strategic components are unquestionably the most important when ascertaining why the fall of 1862 was the Confederacy's high tide. Having looked at the political, logistical, and organizational components and internalizing how each affected the grand design of Confederate strategy in 1862, this section will now tie these components together and shed light on how each influenced strategic decision and guided the final results of the campaigns. A clear understanding of what strategy is necessary to further examine this section. Clausewitz defines strategy as: "the employment of the battle as the means towards the attainment of the object of the War." 77 The "attainment of the object" is the crucial cog in accepting the purpose and direction of operations in Maryland and Kentucky. The strategic composition of these campaigns was different in what they sought to obtain as their achievable goal. Lee's objective was political in its foundation; his 77 Clausewitz, 133. 34 campaign didn't revolve around the occupation of land or control of any specific feature; instead, it sought a climactic battle with a decisive battlefield victory in which Lee was willing to risk his army in a desperate gamble. 78 Bragg and Smith's Kentucky incursions were much more multilayered on an operational platform. While some sort of showdown battle was necessary for the west, it was not the immediate goal, only a potentiality; instead, the relief and re-establishment of Tennessee was paramount with a secondary objective of the "liberation" of Kentucky. The second tier of goals included the control of rail and river systems as a means to eliminate the Union's ability to supply its forces and occupy any portion of the Upper or Deep South. The most significant strategic gain for the South in 1862 existed in Tennessee and Kentucky. Proof of this importance is shown through the fact that six of the seven Confederate field armies would make this region their primary objective in the fall of 1862. These six armies included the commands of Generals' Braxton Bragg, Kirby Smith, Earl Van Dorn, Stirling Price, William Loring, and Humphrey Marshall. Confederate control and or occupation of Tennessee and Kentucky offered benefits and a platform for victory that the remaining Confederate states collectively couldn't offer. Having been the first state to fall under Federal control, Tennessee's recapture would be a major morale boost for the Confederacy nationally and particularly to the large amount of Tennessee regiments that made up Bragg's army. The most significant benefit, however, resided in Tennessee's industrial capability, as it contained the ability to produce more raw items for the war effort then the rest of the Confederacy combined. 79 Confederate control 78 Harsh, 25; OR, vol 19, 1: 598-599. 79 Connelly. 5-15. The importance of Tennessee to the Confederacy is undeniable. Connelly argues that the region was the largest concentrated area for the production of war materials in the Confederacy. The region by 1864 had produced 22,665 pounds niter. Additionally, the area contained a significant source of lead, and was the chief producer of gunpowder in 1861. Tennessee also contained a vast number of factories that repaired old weapons, manufactured new small arms, cartridges, percussion caps, and other equipment. By the fall of 1861, Nashville plants alone turned out 100,000 percussion caps daily, with some 1,300,000 caps produced weekly. The region boasted on the two major Confederate sources of livestock, the other being 35 would, therefore, help in stabilizing the struggling logistical and economic constraints faced in the South. Additionally, the state's rail system would allow for the re-establishment of a direct connection to North Carolina and Virginia and the ability to ship supplies and material to the Confederate forces in the east. Conversely, the loss of Tennessee would be a major blow to Union morale, as its loss would have undone and nullified the Federal campaigns in 1861 and early 1862. 80 Kentucky also offered significant gains for the South. It was generally believed, particularly by the Confederate government's higher echelons, that the majority of Kentuckians were sympathetic to the Southern cause and would rally to Confederate banners if field armies were able to move into the region and strategically hold it. Logistically Kentucky offered a substantial increase for the South, particularly in animals, forage, and transportation options. Like Tennessee, Kentucky contained major river systems and rail lines that would drastically increase movement for the South and partially cut off the mid-west states from the rest of the Union. Politically, Kentucky, a vital border state under Confederate control, could be crippling to Northern domestic and foreign political views. In theory, this political aspect played on a successful campaign in Maryland, another vital border state. More immediately, Kentucky offered the western Confederate armies an opportunity to turn the war from one of defense to one poising them on the edge of invasion of critical Northern states, Ohio, Illinois, and Indiana. Such a turn in the circumstances would be devastating for the Union, particularly politically. The Illinois town of Cairo on the Mississippi River, in 1862 was serving as the logistical launch point for the Union armies in the west; prolonged Confederate control of Kentucky would likely force the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. More pork was raised in Tennessee save Missouri than any other state. Agriculturally, Middle Tennessee in 1860 produced an average of more than a million bushels of corn making it a leader amongst its sister states. 80 Connelly, 3-6. 36 the Federals to find an alternative method of supplying the troops in Corinth and other points in the Southern heartland. As long as the Federals controlled these regions, they would continue to pin the Confederacy in the Deep South denying them of access to vital infrastructure, maneuvering room, and favorable victory conditions. Braxton Bragg and Kirby Smith had to go on the offensive if they were to alleviate the situation by the very nature of the circumstances. As Lee's army with Richmond, their backs were on the doorstep of the Deep South, and they had no room to maneuver. Fortunately for the South, the western offensive was born out of an opportune moment of Halleck's caution that was strategically seized upon by Confederate commanders. In the necessity of the moment, launching an offensive like Lee during the Seven Days battles was the only beneficial option and a necessary risk if the war was going to be taken off the doorstep of the Deep South. Robert E. Lee on the other end of things saw himself and his army as the most important entity in the Confederacy at that moment. In his mind, the only scenario for Confederate victory rested in his hands alone. He showed this belief in dispatches and letters throughout the campaign in an effort to orchestrate movements across the Confederacy to complement his objective. In a letter to Jefferson Davis, he noted his desire to see his suggestion on what he felt Loring's command should do in the Kanawha Valley, in an effort to support his operation. 81 Lee did not stop with Loring; however, days prior, he communicated his victory at Manassas and planned offensive to Braxton Bragg and requested that Bragg pass the information along to Kirby Smith for further coordination. It was Lee's desire that these western armies gain similar victories to his at Manassas, that when added together may be enough to secure Southern 81 OR, vol 19, 1: 594. 37 victory.82 Lastly, he demonstrated his understanding of the confused state of Federal forces in Washington and the need to seize the initiative before the opportunity was lost. Like Kentucky, Maryland was a vital border state, not for its potentiality in resources, but rather for its geographic relation to Washington. Any serious Confederate incursion into the state would be life-threatening to the Union, and therefore demanded desperate measures on the part of Northern armies to repel such an advance. 83 Lee's leadership has been often criticized during the Maryland Campaign from historians and even shocked his subordinates, Jackson, and Longstreet. 84 Lee was certainly aggressive and was known for taking risks; however, he was not a foolish man, and never committed his army to a disaster, at least not one he foresaw. Comparing his stratagem throughout the rest of the war, it's probable to conclude that his movements were well thought out, with the least amount of risk generated from the objective demands of the campaign. Even in moments of reaction to McClellan, Lee always retained the initiative in Maryland. In the aftermath of Seconded Manassas and Chantilly, it was the opinion of many in both military and civilian leadership that a final showdown somewhere north of the Potomac River was all that was needed for Confederate victory. 85 If Lee was a poker player, he was taking his hand and going all in, he could only hope the Federals floundered. General Longstreet understood the gravity of the moment when he wrote: "When the Second Bull Run campaign 82 OR, vol 19, 1: 589. 83 Ezra A. Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I: South Mountain. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 19-21. Carman was present at the battle of Antietam and dedicated his life to research and study of the Maryland Campaign in the post war years. Carman's work was able to capture not only the historical timeline of events, but offered an emotional aspect not seen in other works. This emotional component while subtle is an important tool in internalizing the mindset of Union soldiers and perhaps the North itself. 84 James Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Edited by Ned Bradford. New York: The Fairfax Press, 1979. 265. Longstreet claims that aside from himself, that General Jackson was also taken back from the boldness of Lee's designs on the Maryland Campaign, while at a meeting in Frederick MD, September 9th. 85 Harsh, 60-63. Multiple historians have agreed on this point. James Murfin considered the battle of Antietam to be the most important battle in American history, and one of the most decisive in world history. Ezra Carman portrays the campaign as requiring desperate action for the North, while Scot Hartwig, Stephen Sears and James McPherson center on the political undertone. 38 closed, we had the most brilliant prospects the Confederates ever had. We then possessed an army which, had it been kept together, the Federals would never have dared attack." 86 Lee's confidence in his army was surely the determining factor in his choice to assume the offensive into Maryland, and no doubt behind his reasoning to push the army as hard as he did in the maneuvering and fighting that took place in Maryland. The General expressed his confidence in the men and the importance of the offensive in General Order No. 102. on September 4: "This army is about to engage in most important operations." He further outlines the necessity of respecting private property, and the desire for his commands to lighten their supply encumbrance to allow them to move quickly and efficiently. 87 When coupling the logistical and organizational shortcomings, the political factors reinforced by his troops' confidence and his in them proved to be the energy from which the Maryland Campaign was executed. The offensives themselves presented each of these commanders a complicated set of obstacles and decisions to overcome while ensuring they offered the best possible benefit to their cause with the least amount of risk towards their army. This is certainly one of the most challenging aspects of being a commander in charge of any offensive-minded campaign. Johnston at Shiloh, Burnside at Fredericksburg, Hooker at Chancellorsville, and Hood in Tennessee all failed to capitalize on this principle. The fact that Lee and Bragg achieved the scale of operational measures they did is a testament to their leadership and ability to seize control and direction of a developing situation. If the argument is to be maintained that the Maryland and Kentucky campaigns provided the South the best chance the South had of winning the war, then proof of this claim must lay within the strategic composition of the campaigns themselves. If taken in this context, then it must be understood that every move Lee, Bragg, and 86 Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, 263. 87 OR, vol 16, 2: 592. 39 Smith, along with the supporting roles of Loring, Marshall, Price, and Van Dorn were calculated if not on a grand scale, certainly on an individual level. Unlocking the purpose of the maneuvers, and their relation to strategic success will illustrate the continually changing dynamics and environment of each campaign, and how these generals continually altered their designs to fit the goals of their strategic objectives. The evolving strategic situation in the months leading up to the campaigns created the conditions under which the operations in Maryland and Kentucky were governed. Understanding the Confederate forces' strategic focus for needing to assume the offensive will outline the gravity and weight they placed on the outcome of these fall campaigns. The most measurable strategic potential in 1862 existed in the Western Theater. As already stated, the economic and logistical importance of this region necessitated an aggressive action on behalf of the South if the Confederacy was to survive. The first attempt at recovering control of Tennessee occurred in April with the battle of Shiloh. While tactically a Confederate failure, the aftermath of the fighting created adverse reactions from the Northern press and transposed into Halleck's overall cautious and slow pursuit towards Corinth. Halleck, after taking Corinth, was faced with limited choices on where to move next. Due to political and doctrinal restrictions of conciliation and Halleck's theory on war, the massive Union army was not able logistically to move into the Deep South. The only real move available to the Federal forces in the summer of 1862, was a lateral one east towards Chattanooga. 88 With Bragg at Tupelo and Kirby Smith's small command at Chattanooga, the path of success for an aggressive officer to take Chattanooga, a major supply hub for the South, was wide open. Halleck foiled this opportunity by sending Buell's command to accomplish the task. The slow-moving cautious Buell initially created consternation among 88 Daniel, 86. 40 Confederate leadership, yet once the pace of his progress was realized, the same trepidation turned into an opportunity. 89 Clausewitz described the potential for a reciprocal effect to take place should an army go on the offensive; however, he counterweighs that thought with pointing out that an army in a precarious position with the opportunity to gain a substantial amount should jump on the opportunity if one should be presented. 90 Certainly, Bragg and Smith applied a variation of this maxim into their decision to go on the advance. The term "invasion" is the defining ideology that bound both major theaters of war and other Confederate objectives in the fall of 1862. Clausewitz wrote that even if the complete overthrow of the enemy is impossible, which it was for the Confederacy, then the only other real option of winning a war is to conquer a portion of the enemy territory. In conquering the enemy territory, the invader has the opportunity to weaken the enemy's resources, crippling their ability to sustain an army. By carrying the war in enemy territory, the conditions will further the enemy's expense and ultimately lead to peace negotiations. 91 The term "invasion" generates a delicate question concerning what an invasion actually is, and how it fits into the American context, particularly in the political spectrum in 1862. Baron De Jomoni, whose military maxims were dominant in nineteenth-century America, distinguished what an "invasion" actually is. Breaking down the idea of an offensive, he wrote that: "…an invasion occurs against a great state whose whole or significant portion of territory is attacked. If only a province or moderate line of defense is attacked, then it is an offensive, and if such actions are limited only to a confined operation, then it is termed an initiative." 92 Indeed then, if taken in this context, 89 Connelly, 200-201. 90 Clausewitz, 707. 91 Clausewitz, 706. Neither of the primary Confederate armies had the ability to "conquer" Federal territory. However, the last part in reference to Clausewitz maxim was the adaptation applied by the Confederacy in its strategic goals. 92 Jomini, The Art of War, 54. The difference in the definition in understanding the purpose of the Confederate objective is critical. Many historians point to the Army of Northern Virginia's strategic goals as fitting into the framework of an 41 Confederate efforts militarily were an offensive and an invasion only in the political spectrum. Although the press and even the top military minds used the term invasion quite frequently in the North, there is nothing in the Confederate strategic framework of 1862, that fit the definition of invasion, Lee himself in a letter to Jefferson Davis on September 4, used the term expedition implying that his foray had a specific purpose and would be short. 93 Due to logistics alone, Confederate forces across the board could not sustain the long-term goals of an invasion. However, the Clausewitzian maxim of a "strategical attack" was within reach and achievable according to the conditional logistical framework. Much of the success for the Confederates relied on the superiority of its troops, and the avoidance of exhausting itself with an over achievement of objectives. 94 The window of opportunity was narrow, operationally because of logistics, but more importantly, because of politics. The two most significant benefits afforded to the Southern cause in 1862 were the Congressional fall elections and European superpowers. If Confederate forces could score a major political victory in the east, and both a strategic reversal coupled with a political coup in the west, then perhaps Northern voters would come to resent the war and vote for "Peace Democrats" in November, and more advantageously draw England and France in as mediators or some other influential role, to end the war. It is apparent that the pressure to act decisively if not at least aggressively before November was of paramount importance. While it is debated as to how far the European powers would intercede, what is certain is that the Confederacy banked part of its strategic decisions both politically and militarily on intervention. 95 Just as apparent was the frustration and delicate invasion, yet when looking at that particular army's logistics and Lee's strategic goals only the Jominian maxim of offensive fits the framework. 93 OR, vol 16, 2: 591-592. 94 Clausewitz, 601. 95 McPherson, 534-535. 42 statesmanship which had to be executed on behalf of the Union to convince the English mainly that the war was nothing more than a rebellion that the Republic could put down on its own. 96 However, this did not appear to be the scene in the late summer of 1862 with Union defeats and setbacks continually piling up. Lee retained the initiative by keeping the enemy guessing what his next move and true objective was. According to Henry McClellan, J.E.B. Stuart's adjutant, that as late as September 13, Federal forces maintained the: "utmost uncertainty regarding Lee's movements and intentions." 97 Lee designed his army's movements to draw out the Federals from Washington. By crossing at Leesburg, his army was initially east of the Catoctin Mountains and a direct threat to Washington and Baltimore, it was this crossing point that directly forced the disorganized Army of the Potomac to leave the defenses prematurely, and more importantly to force Lincoln's hand in placing McClellan back in overall command. 98 The key to the Army of Northern Virginia's movements was speed and mobility, thus the reasoning for Lee's series of orders, which included provisions for shoeless Confederates to remain at Winchester, a lightening of supplies, and an insistence that straggling be strictly forbidden. Lee's next major objective after crossing the Potomac River was to move on Frederick. A Confederate presence in a substantial pro-Union area was a direct insult to the North, and would only further press the Army of the Potomac to hurry faster in order to "repel the invasion" and "save the nation"; while most importantly for the Confederates, continually limit the progress of McClellan organizing his army into a capable force on the battlefield. 96 Nelson, 163-168. 97 H.B. McClellan, The Life and Campaigns of Major-General J.E.B. Stuart: Commander of the Cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia, Edison: The Blue & Grey Press, 1993. 113. 98 Harsh, 98; OR, vol 16, 2: 604-605. Letter from Lee to Davis on September 12 justifying is reasoning for crossing his army east of the mountains. 43 Lee's grand strategy was working so far; his movements northward from Richmond had stripped the Atlantic states of their Union occupiers to concentrate on Lee's Confederate force, while at the same time sending the Federal strategy of war into complete chaos as they scrambled to deal with the offensive. Lee believed that if he launched an unrelenting offensive, the Federals would be compelled to abandon their widely scattered smaller campaigns, which were gradually eating away the frontiers of the Confederacy; and, as a result, be forced to concentrate their columns in response to his initiatives. 99 Lee's movement into the western part of the state, via Frederick and into the Middleton and Pleasant valleys, opened the Shenandoah Valley up momentarily, which assisted Loring's advance in western Virginia, by isolating the small Federal commands in that region. In addition to freeing up Loring to make an offensive, Lee's army in western Maryland split the Federal war effort in half. The Army of the Potomac was now confined in environs around Washington, while Federal forces in the Western Theater had no direct route to reinforce McClellan. 100 The simultaneous advance of Lee, Loring, Marshall, Smith, and Bragg effectively drove a wedge between the Union field armies, while Price and Van Dorn's forces kept Grant fixed at Corinth. 101 Bragg and Smith's columns made their march through eastern and middle Tennessee and into Kentucky at an incredible speed, leaving Buell's army to have to hustle to catch up. 102 Kirby Smith realized the opportunity in front of him early on and moved his men forward roughly the same time Lee's men were preparing to destroy John Pope's forces near Manassas, beginning the Kentucky Campaign. Union Brigadier General George W. Morgan's command held the vital Cumberland Gap, which historian Earl Hess christened the "Gibraltar of the West." 99 Harsh, 116. 100 Hartwig, 162-163. 101 Harsh, 96-97; Hess, 31-35. 102 Hess, 57,62,64. 44 The Gap itself served as a platform for the Federals to invade East Tennessee, and as long as it remained in Federal hands, the Deep South, particularly Chattanooga and Atlanta, would be under constant threat. 103 Reducing this garrison was the first lynchpin in breaking Federal control and regaining Tennessee for the South. Smith, now free to maneuver feinted around the gap and threatened the supply lines, forcing a Federal withdrawal; he then turned his legions northward and moved into Kentucky. Smith moved through the eastern part of the state and pushed Heth's division as far as Covington, directly across from Cincinnati, sending that city and southern Ohio into a panic. 104 With Smith's small army running almost unmolested in Kentucky, Bragg's larger army moved through Middle Tennessee via Sparta feinting towards Nashville, forcing the Federals to concentrate there, while strategically widening the gap between Buell's command and Southern forces in Kentucky. Bragg, before departing to Chattanooga, left behind roughly 35,000 men in two separate commands under generals Stirling Price and Earl Van Dorn. These commands had a twofold objective. Their primary objective was to contain the Army of the Tennessee at Corinth, and once Bragg and Smith were in position, launch an offensive of their own against Grant, defeat him, and then rapidly march to connect with Bragg's army. 105 Bragg and Smith exposed the weakness in the Federal policy of limited war with its preoccupation of taking landmarks and reliance on cumbersome supply lines and within less than a months' time-reversed almost a year of Union progress in the west, in respect to subjugating the Upper South. Unlike John Bell Hood's offensive into Tennessee in late 1864, which, while certainly an emergency, did not deviate Sherman from his plans of marching to the sea. 106 In 103 Hess, 7-8. 104 Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground", 141. 105 Noe, 29. 106 Eric A. Jacobson and Richard A. Rupp, For Cause and for Country: A Study of the Affair at Spring Hill and the Battle of Franklin, Eric A. Jacobson, 2013. 42. 45 1862, this simply was impossible for Federal forces. Sherman operated under a "hard war" doctrine that allowed him to subsist off the land and changed his objective from key city centers to making war on the Southern people, through the destruction of their local economy, food subsistence, and ability subsist in a normal capacity. 107 Sherman effectively narrowed the war to the immediate doorstep of the Southern People. As a result the individual citizen was forced to deal with their own survival, and naturally the bigger picture of the Confederacy became less important. Union forces in 1862 did not have the same conditional framework, and by default, would be forced to pursue any Confederate force and meet it on the battlefield. Even though the fall of 1862 didn't produce the hoped-for victory conditions, strategically, the Confederates were more successful in this period than at any other part of the war. The results of this success were more apparent in the Western Theater than in the east. However, certain components in the Eastern Theater changed as well. The most significant measurable success emerged in time bought for the Confederacy, and a prolonged timetable for the Northern plan of war. In the summer, Federal plans in the west called for the capture of Vicksburg and Chattanooga, the latter of which was in progress when the offensive started. 108 It is highly probable that if able, the Federal forces would have moved on Vicksburg in the summer of 1862, and perhaps forced its capitulation much sooner. 109 However, this is only speculation, yet, the reality is this operation was certainly delayed by the events that occurred in Kentucky and the aggressive nature of Price and Van Dorn. Kentucky was only one variable in stymieing the Federal drive toward Vicksburg. Just as important were the aggressiveness of Price and Van Dorn at the battles of Iuka and Corinth in October. Although Confederate defeats, the outcome of 107 Charles Royster, The Destructive War: William Tecumseh Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and the Americans, New York: Alfred A. Knopf Inc. 321-328. 108 McPherson, 511-512. 109 Woodworth, Nothing but Victory, 243-244. 46 these battles managed to temporarily check the Federals, prompting an end to any realistic campaign season in Mississippi. At least for the foreseeable future, the Mississippi River remained open by way of Vicksburg, and Union strategy incomplete, in which case was Price and Van Dorn's big contribution. 110 Bragg and Smith failed to hold Kentucky and or convert her into a Confederate state. However, as the logistic concerns show, the state's complete occupation, with the available forces, was genuinely impossible. In all the engagements that had taken place, the Southerners had the better day. Kirby Smith's army completely routed Federal forces at Richmond in August, and Bragg's army captured the garrison at Munfordville. Before and during the campaign John Hunt Morgan's cavalry had wreaked havoc in Kentucky, capturing supplies, disrupting communications, and pushing to the Ohio River virtually unchallenged. 111 Even Kentucky's principle battle at Perryville was the better day tactically for the Confederates. More than anything, Kentucky showed the weakness of Buell, limited war, and the Union's inability to protect vital territory adequately under a conciliation policy. While in the end Bragg and Smith left, they did so generally unmolested, which showed Buell's unwillingness to fight another pitched battle. Therefore, this aftermath was certainly nothing for the Union to be proud of. In truth Buell did not drive Bragg and Smith out of Kentucky, rather the limitations of logistics and the realization of strategic objectives forced the Confederates back to Tennessee. 112 Although Braxton Bragg is surrounded by much controversy and sharp opinions on his leadership capabilities, one must look past emotion and see the facts as they present in the strategic element. While indeed, the Confederates failed to hold Kentucky, they did succeed in 110 Woodworth, 239-240. 111 Hess, 12. 112 Noe, 333. 47 regaining portions of Tennessee. In particular, Middle Tennessee by way of Murfreesboro, which sat astride the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, and was seen as the key to the wealthy Stone, Duck, and Elk River valleys. 113 Historian Thomas Connelly pointed out, which was already previously noted, that Tennessee was by far the most critical state in terms of manufacturing to the South. Although the entire state wasn't in Confederate hands, over two-thirds of it was, and most importantly, the opportunity to secure the very vital Nashville and Mississippi River corridor remained a possibility for a future campaign. 114 The primary focal point in the interpretation of the Kentucky Campaign is the Confederate failure to remain within that state. However, the key phrase narrows down to opportunity and potential. If taken in this context, the Confederate forces in July were backed into a corner. However, come October, these same forces had managed to throw the Federal forces off balance and regain a significant portion of lost territory, changing the entire atmosphere and flow of the Western Theater. In short, the success of the Kentucky Campaign is that it allowed the Confederates to move from the verge of defeat to a position where the fate of the Western Theater was up in the air, which only a decisive campaign would bring to a conclusion. 115 The fall of 1862 was the last chance the Confederates had at securing Tennessee permanently during the war. While the Western Theater was more significant in terms of strategic gain and leverage, the Eastern Theater added its own momentous shift in the flow of events. Unlike the west, the Eastern Theater was very narrow, as it existed in the space between Richmond and Washington. In strategic terms, the region was harrowing regarding maneuvering room and logistical sustainment. In one sense, Lee and his army were successful in pushing the Army of the Potomac 113 Peter Cozzens, No Better Place to Die: The Battle of Stones River, Chicago: University of Illinois, 1990. 8. 114 Connelly, 16-22. 115 Cozzens, No Better Place to Die, 12-14; Hess, 116. 48 away from the gates of Richmond, along with wrecking the Army of Virginia, while lastly temporarily clearing the smaller theaters, such as the coast and Shenandoah Valley of Federal forces. 116 While this situation may have provided an opportunity in the west, it meant little or nothing in the east. The fact is, Lee understood his primary objective either consisted of breaking the Northern will to fight through battlefield victory or by the complete destruction of the Union army. 117 Lee's primary objective in Maryland was to bate the Federal forces into a showdown fight. He was successful in this mission by just crossing over the Potomac River. The location of Washington in the southern portion of Maryland across from Alexandria made an incursion in Maryland a threat for the Federal government. 118 Unlike the west, where a fair amount of effort was required for Bragg and Smith to march their armies the distance required to Kentucky, the Army of Northern Virginia did not have to move far to accomplish its mission. Another key component to Lee's strategic objective was the lack of overhead in its long-term goal. Unlike the Western Theater, there was no pressure for Lee to specifically secure any particular region, as the Confederacy in the east had not lost any of its production capabilities nor any significant amount of land to Federal occupation. Therefore, the Confederate movements' direction wasn't necessarily guided by a specific purpose, but rather by the necessity of strategic gains which were designed to draw out the Army of the Potomac in a state of haste and unpreparedness. However, whereas the Kentucky Campaign had different aspects of measurable success, the 116 Harsh, 19-20. 117 Murfin, 63-64. 118 Harsh, 23; Murfin, 36-40; McPherson, 555-556. All the major historians who focus on the Maryland Campaign point to this as a major component to deterring the outcome and purpose of Lee's strategy. 49 Maryland Campaign had none, only a single purpose that demanded a climactic clash to determine its outcome. 119 At no other point in the war did Lee have such an advantage and control of the initiative. Arguably, his combination of subordinate officers was the best in their position as a whole than at any other point. His army was operating off a long track of victory, the length of which they would not experience again. 120 And most importantly, the Maryland Campaign was truly the only time in which Lee would have direct control of the flow of events; in Richmond, he had acted out of desperation, in Northern Virginia, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the Overland Campaign and Petersburg he counteracted his opponents moves, and at Gettysburg, he committed to a battle that was dictated by the Federals. In September of 1862, Lee was the composer of the campaign and the master of ceremonies, he and he alone decided when and where the climactic battle would be fought. 121 All too often, the argument arises that the Army of the Potomac moved quicker than Lee expected, and caught him off guard, forcing him to settle and fight an unprepared battle at Sharpsburg. This theory would make sense if Lee's strategic objectives were multilayered like Bragg or Smith. Nevertheless, this theory doesn't match up to his sole objective of a decisive engagement. As seen with logistical circumstances, Hagerstown was likely the limit for the army in terms of range, Lee, therefore, had decided to make the principle stand somewhere in that area. 122 Two factors make this apparent, the choice to reduce Harpers Ferry and Martinsburg, which are necessary for military doctrine, and the choice to have the army lay around Frederick 119 OR, vol 16, 2: Correspondence between Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis, September 8, 1862; Harsh, 119; Alexander, Fighting for the Confederacy, 139. 120 Hartwig, 126-127. 121 Harsh, 57-59. 122 Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I ,108-111; Harsh, 190; Hartwig, 116-117; Murfin, 113. All of these sources for reasons ranging from realistic logistical concerns to Lee's strategic initiative point towards the area of Hagerstown as the realistic goal of the Confederate offensive. 50 for several days. 123 If the plan had been to fight somewhere else or keep the Federals at a distance, these two factors fit the mold. The truth is that Lee wanted a fight, and he wanted it quick, the geography of Western Maryland affords a great opportunity to a defending army, which was Lee's primary tactical vision. 124 Looking at the scope of the Army of Northern Virginia's movements in the campaign, there a few abundantly clear facts that warrant Lee's strategic designs. It's already been stated that Lee's intention was to draw out the Army of the Potomac, which he did by simply crossing into Maryland, and ushered the emergency by crossing east of the mountains. 125 The next key was the layover or taunting of the Federals by having his army remain in Frederick for several days. The decision to reduce the Harpers Ferry garrison, while militarily necessary, also doubly acted as part of the "national emergency" which further put pressure on McClellan and his army to move with haste. 126 The battle of South Mountain, while a Confederate defeat, opened the way for the Federals to move over the range and meet Lee on the ground of his choosing. 127 South Mountain is interesting, particularly for strategic reasons. The choice to leave one division under D.H. Hill to hold the three passes stretched over ten miles indicates that Lee didn't intend to stop the Federals there and expected them to take the position. A decisive battle along the South Mountain range would not have been beneficial for Lee to meet his objectives. His army would not have been able to counterattack effectively due to terrain, and maneuvering room would have been limited. Although Lee initially considered scrapping the campaign due to the longer than expected siege of Harpers Ferry, once the garrison did fall, he was able to 123 Harsh, 147-150; Hartwig, 211-212, OR, vol 16, 2, 603 (Special Orders 191) 605-608. 124 Allan, 201-205; Harsh, 98-99; Marshall, 148-150. 125 Marshall, 146. 126 Brian Matthew Jordan, Unholy Sabbath: The Battle of South Mountain in History and Memory September 14, 1862, New York: Savas Beatie, 2012. 80-85. 127 Jordon, Unholy Sabbath, 301. 51 concentrate his forces in the area of Sharpsburg. 128 It may not be that Lee specifically wanted to fight at Sharpsburg, but the lay of the land and the tactical and strategic components of it, offered natural terrain on which to fight a decisive battle. 129 The Antietam battlefield offered several very strong defensive opportunities. First was the Antietam Creek, which was wide and deep enough to stop infantry from crossing unless over a bridge. The terrain, particularly on the southern end of the battlefield, is very suitable for a defending force, along with the ground near the center of the battlefield. On the northern end, the terrain is its weakest for defense; however, the entire battlefield, especially the northern end, is very suitable for artillery employment. Lee's position at Antietam Creek was without question formidable. 130 Whereas the events in Kentucky were one of maneuver, Maryland hinged on the tactical climax. Therefore, both forces needed to clash and soundly defeat the other to end the campaign. The battle of Antietam itself ended in a draw, and the opposing lines virtually remained the same. 131 Having realized the day after the engagement that McClellan wasn't likely to attack again, and understanding that his position offered no benefits for his army to attack, Lee promptly withdrew back into Shepherdstown, Virginia, (West Virginia) intending to regroup his army and re-crossing the Potomac River near Williamsport to again sue for a decisive battle. The Confederate's were blocked by several determining factors though, the two primary factors being McClellan's choice to move the VI Corps north towards Hagerstown to block a crossing, and a large amount of straggling that has taken place since the start of the 128 Allan, 320. 129 Harsh, 301-303. 130 Phillip Thomas Tucker, Burnside's Bridge: The Climatic Struggle of the 2nd and 20th Georgia at Antietam Creek, Mechanicsburg: Stackpole Books, 2000. 47-54. 131 Ezra Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. 2: Antietam. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 501. 52 campaigning that had severely reduced Lee's army from upwards of 70,000 men down to roughly 45,000. 132 While Lee did not thrash McClellan's army at Antietam to the extent his strategic objectives called for, the opportunity for a Confederate political victory was not entirely gone. In fact, Lee's offensive convinced Britain and France that Northern armies could never restore the Union, and they contemplated mediation, which would have constituted de facto recognition of the Confederacy. 133 Moving away from the narrow view of Lee and Maryland it is important to note that Bragg's army had achieved a significant victory on September 17 at Munfordville the same day the battle of Antietam was raging. While Lee's army was more or less locked in a stalemate in Maryland, the western Confederate forces still very much retained the initiative in Kentucky. If a successful outcome in Kentucky occurred, perhaps that would be enough to enhance the stalemate at Antietam into a negative outcome for the Union. 134 Lee did not wait in position along Antietam Creek, for events to develop in Kentucky, he didn't have to. By simply moving back across the river and McClellan's inability to pursue for logistical reasons, Lee still very much posed a serious threat, especially with re-crossing into Maryland if need be. Looking at the outcome of the Maryland Campaign and the factors involved in the forces' genetic composition, Lee's army achieved all that could reasonably be expected of it. Certainly, due to its size, it would be impossible to annihilate the Army of the Potomac, yet, by remaining together and gaining the tactical victory, that would have to be enough. 135 132 Murfin, 306. 133 McPherson, 546. 134 Earl J. Hess, Braxton Bragg: The Most Hated Man in the Confederacy, University of North Carolina Press, 2016. 63. 135 Ezra Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Vol. III: Shepherdstown Ford and the End of the Campaign. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 20-21. 53 Truly then the lynchpin of the 1862 Confederate offensive rested on the shoulders of Bragg and Smith. 136 Lee's offensive and climatic battle of Antietam would have held little or no importance if the events west of the Appalachian's hadn't been taking place in the manner they were. The ultimate failure of Bragg and Smith in Kentucky was their inability to link their armies together. The process involved in making this happen didn't occur until it was too late. 137 Regardless of why this juncture of uniting these armies didn't occur, the important point was that they retained the initiative until the battle of Perryville. Unlike Lee, Bragg and Smith didn't necessarily have to defeat Buell or Wright's local forces, but rather they just needed to exist in Kentucky. Smith's forces had cleared out Morgan and what pitiful resistance Wright was able to scrape together. Buell's army lingered exhausted and timidly in the western part of the state. Bragg and Smith controlled in theory over two-thirds of the state in the last weeks of September into October. 138 The high tide of the Confederacy occurred not at Antietam, but in the days before Perryville. Up until this date, the South had been successful in relieving Richmond, Chattanooga, Vicksburg, the Carolina coast, Shenandoah Valley, western Virginia, and Northern Virginia of any significant Federal occupation, or military operations. The Confederate armies were at its maxim of manpower, at least in theory, if not in actual employment and contained men who were wholly more experienced than their counterparts. Most importantly, the South had been successful universally of maintaining a Confederate wide offensive initiative. When looking at the battles of South Mountain, Richmond, Munfordville, Antietam, and Harpers Ferry, only 136 Hess, Braxton Bragg, 64. 137 Noe, 328-329. 138 Daniel, 128-129; Hess, 62-64; Noe, 104. 54 South Mountain had been a Federal victory and Antietam a draw, while the rest were complete decisive Confederate victories. The battle of Perryville long considered the principal battle of the Kentucky Campaign was neither decisive nor climatic. 139 The battle itself was fought only by portions of the armies, on ground that held no real strategic value to the overall goals of the campaign. However, the legacy of Perryville resides in Bragg's choice to withdraw his army from Kentucky in its aftermath. Leaving aside Bragg's personality, leadership issues, and his subordinates, the important aspect to look at is what was actually accomplished by his army. It's already been stated that Bragg and Smith's offensive knocked the Federal plan of war back a few pegs and opened up at two-thirds of Tennessee for the foreseeable future. Confederate goals upon entering Kentucky were unclear and varied in design between Bragg and Smith. 140 Perhaps the largest draw was establishing the state as Confederate, which they quickly understood wasn't a popular option amongst the people. That being the case, Confederate field armies could only subsist for so long in hostile territory until they would, by necessity, be forced to withdraw to friendly Tennessee. 141 Therefore, without the support of the majority of Kentuckians to endorse a Confederate government, the continuation of a Southern army within the state offered no benefit to the Confederacy. 142 Bragg and Smith's only true strategic failing was their inability to link together and deliver a decisive blow against Buell. If looked at in the context of the genetics of an ocean wave, the advance into Kentucky was the last little bit of the wave that rolls into the edge of the beach. It neither has the momentum nor the power to damage anything of significant strength. However, the break or 139 Noe, 343. 140 Hess, 56-57. 141 Connelly, 228; Noe, 334. 142 Noe, 336. 55 impact of the wave that occurs just before hitting shore tends to denote the power of the temporary effects inflicted within that particular wave's life span. Sticking with the ocean wave analogy, the Confederate wide offensive in the fall of 1862 was the last ocean wave before the tide changed. The lifespan of the Confederacy would perish in the calm time between the next high tide. Conclusion: The interpretations of the Civil War, its key moments, critical players, and even the purpose of the conflict, vary in many different extremes, platforms, and algorithms. Surely there were other critical moments of the war, in which the Confederacy could have theoretically changed the outcome or moments in which Union forces could have ended the war much sooner. The progress of the war is a fascinating storyline of complete unpreparedness through a series of excruciating growing pains that led to the high efficiency of conducting war. Looking at the grand scope of the conflict, particularly the logistics of the opposing sides, even the most novice student of the struggle can recognize that the Confederacy was severely behind in every aspect and shouldn't have waged war. 143 However, the fact remains they did, and the reality is any Southern hope for victory resided in the slowness, unpreparedness, and political deadlock of the North's ability to wage war. The true window in which to view why the fall of 1862 was the Southern high tide occurs in the aftermath of the campaigns themselves. The first and most critical component was the issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation. The bold political move forever changed the direction and intent of the war. For the South, it had devastating consequences, as it eliminated 143 McPherson, 312-316. 56 any dream of European intervention, and essentially made the Confederacy an island left to its own. The proclamation also bled into the second crucial component, which truly had its roots at the beginning of 1862; however, it had become fully developed by the closing days of 1862, and that is the abandonment of "limited war" principals and the acceptance of "hard war" doctrine. 144 Militarily the South would never mount such a broad offensive again nor one with so much potential to gain from it. Lee's Pennsylvania Campaign in 1863, while more famous, did not have the potential as nine months prior when he crossed into Maryland. 145 Lee in June of 1863 was acting independently, while Confederate armies in the west were giving ground rapidly and losing Vicksburg. 146 Even with Confederate victory at Chickamauga, Bragg nor his predecessors could ever mount an effective counterthrust to regain vital Tennessee. 147 Hood's Tennessee Campaign in 1864 offered the closest opportunity; however, his cause was pyrrhic and traded the destruction of Georgia for the hope of gaining Tennessee. 148 The commencement of the Overland Campaign in 1864 saw the end of Lee's ability to mount a counterattack that had won for him on previous battlefields. With his numbers dwindling, and the Union's production capabilities at its height, continuing supply of reinforcements, and Grant's power to coordinate multiple armies upon Lee, forced the Confederate leader to dance to the tune of Grant's strategy. 149 144 McPherson, 567. 145 Coddington, The Gettysburg Campaign, 4-8. 146 Edwin C. Bearss and J. Parker Hills, Receding Tide: Vicksburg and Gettysburg the Campaigns that Changed the Civil War, National Geographic Society, 2010. 266. 147 Steven Woodworth, Six Armies in Tennessee: The Chickamauga and Chattanooga, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998. 144. 148 Jacobson, For Cause and for Country, 524. 149 Gordon C. Rhea, The Battle of the Wilderness May 5-6, 1864, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994. 9-10, 12-13, 22. 57 The Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns were episodes that the Union could not afford to lose. Certainly, Union armies, especially in the east, met multiple setbacks, defeats, and disasters throughout the war; however, a loss at this critical juncture in each theater would have produced devastating consequences from which the North could not recover. The brilliance of these campaigns resides in the fact that neither side could afford a negative outcome, and a victorious outcome for either side had the power and capabilities to change the entire trajectory of the war. The Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns do not have a true decisive victor in respect to the definition, yet, the rate at which the Union declared victory and the rapidity with which it instituted new measures both politically and militarily showed the emergency the events in the fall of 1862 produced for the North. 150 An acceptance of that notion coupled with political density, logistical pitfalls, organizational hurtles, and strategic objectives, will clearly indicate that the fall of 1862 in the course of the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns, along with their supporting offenses was the high tide of the Confederacy, and the moment the Civil War changed trajectory in both political and military senses, which was the beginning of the Confederacy's defeat. 150 Muehlbauer, Ways of War, 197-200. 58 Bibliography Secondary Sources: Anderson, Nancy Scott and Dwight Anderson. The Generals: Ulysses. S. Grant and Robert E. Lee. Avenel: New Jersey, 1987. Bearss, Edwin C. and J. Parker Hills, Receding Tide: Vicksburg and Gettysburg the Campaigns that Changed the Civil War, National Geographic Society, 2010. Beloff, Max. "Historical Revision No. CXVIII: Great Britain and the American Civil War." History, New Series, 37, no. 129, (1952): 40-48. Brauer, Kinley J. "British Mediation and the American Civil War: A Reconsideration." The Journal of Southern History 38, no. 1 (1972): 49-64. Carman, Ezra Ayers. The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I: South Mountain. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. Carman, Ezra Ayers. The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. 2: Antietam. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens. El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. Carman, Ezra Ayres. The Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Vol. III: Shepherdstown Ford and the End of the Campaign. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens. El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. Chance, Joseph E. The Second Texas Infantry, From Shiloh to Vicksburg, Austin: Eakin Press, 1984. Coddington, Edwin B. The Gettysburg Campaign: A Study in Command, New York: Simon and Schuster. 1968. Connelly, Thomas Lawrence. Army of the Heartland: The Army of Tennessee, 1861-1862. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001. Cozzens, Peter. No Better Place to Die: The Battle of Stones River, Chicago: University of Illinois, 1990. Cozzens, Peter. Shenandoah 1862: Stonewall Jackson's Valley Campaign. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008. 59 Daniel, Larry J. Days of Glory: The Army of the Cumberland, 1861-1865. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2006. Donald, David Herbert. Lincoln. New York, NY: Touchstone, 1996. Glatthaar, Joseph T. General Lee's Army: From Victory to Collapse. New York: Free Press, 2008. Grimsley, Mark. The Hard Hand of War: Union Military Policy toward Southern Civilians, 1861-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Halleck, Henry Wagner. Elements of Military Art and Science: Course of Instruction in Strategy, Fortification, Tactics of Battle, Embracing the Duties of Staff, Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Engineers, Adapted to the Use of Volunteers and Militia, Third Edition, New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1862. Harsh, Joseph L. Taken at the Flood Robert E. Lee and Confederate Strategy in the Maryland Campaign of 1862. Ashland: The Kent State University Press, 2013. Hartwig, D. Scott. To Antietam Creek: the Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2019. Hennessy, John J. Return to Bull Run: The Battle and Campaign of Second Manassas. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1999. Hess, Earl J. Banners to the Breeze: the Kentucky Campaign, Corinth, and Stones River. Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 2010. Hess, Earl J. Braxton Bragg: The Most Hated Man of the Confederacy. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2016. Hoslett, Schuyler Dean. "The Richmond Daily Press on British Intervention in the Civil War: A Brief Summary." The William and Mary Quarterly 20, no. 1 (1940): 79-83. Jacobson Eric A. and Richard A. Rupp, For Cause and for Country: A Study of the Affair at Spring Hill and the Battle of Franklin, Eric A. Jacobson, 2013. Jomini, Antoine Henri. The Art of War: A New Edition, with Appendices and Maps. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1971. Jordan, Brian Matthew. Unholy Sabbath: The Battle of South Mountain in History and Memory September 14, 1862, New York: Savas Beatie, 2012. Longacre, Edward G. To Gettysburg and Beyond: The Twelfth New Jersey Volunteer Infantry, II Corps, Army of the Potomac, 1862-1865, Hightstown: Longstreet House, 1988. 60 McClellan, H. B. The Campaigns of Stuart's Cavalry. Edison, NJ: Blue and Grey Press, 1993. McPherson, James. Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. Miller, Donald L. Vicksburg: Grants Campaign That Broke the Confederacy. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2020. Muehlbauer, Matthew S. and David J. Ulbrich, Ways of War: American Military History from the Colonial Era to the Twenty-First Century. New York: Routledge, 2018. Murfin, James V., and James I. Robertson. The Gleam of Bayonets: The Battle of Antietam and Robert E. Lees Maryland Campaign, September 1862. Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana State University Press, 2004. Noe, Kenneth W. Perryville: This Grand Havoc of Battle. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2011. Pohanka, Brian C. Vortex of Hell: History of the 5th New York Volunteer Infantry. Lynchburg, VA: Schroeder Publications, 2012. Pooley, Andrew. "Shoo-ing the Geese: Lincoln and the Army of the Potomac, 1862-1863." Australasian Journal of American Studies 21, no.2 (2002): 86-100. Rhea, Gordon C. The Battle of the Wilderness May 5-6, 1864. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994. Royster, Charles. The Destructive War: William Tecumseh Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and the Americans. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1991. Sanders, Stuart W. Maney's Confederate Brigade at the Battle of Perryville, Charleston: The History Press, 2014. Sears, Stephen W. Chancellorsville. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1996. Sears, Stephen W. Landscape Turned Red. New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1994. Sears, Stephen W. To the Gates of Richmond: The Peninsula Campaign. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992. Tucker, Phillip Thomas. Burnside's Bridge: The Climatic Struggle of the 2nd and 20th Georgia at Antietam Creek, Mechanicsburg: Stackpole Books, 2000. Volpe, Vernon L. "Dispute Every Inch of Ground": Major General Lew Wallace Commands Cincinnati, September 1862." Indiana Magazine of History 85, no. 2 (1989): 61 Von Clausewitz, Carl. On War. Translated by Colonel J.J. Graham. New York, NY: Barnes & Noble, 2004. Weigley, Russell Frank. A Great Civil War: A Military and Political History, 1861-1865. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2004. Woodworth, Steven E. Nothing but Victory the Army of the Tennessee, 1861-1865. New York: Vintage, 2005. Primary Sources: Allan, William. The Army of Northern Virginia in 1862, Reprint: Middletown: DE, 2020. Alexander, Edward Porter. Fighting for the Confederacy: The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, United States: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000. Battles and Leaders of the Civil War Volumes 1-4, edited by Robert Underwood Johnson, and Clarence Clough Buel. New York: The Century Company, 1885. Donaldson, Francis Adams. Inside the Army of the Potomac: The Civil War Experience of Captain Francis Adams Donaldson. Edited by J. Gregory Acken. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1998. Fleming, Francis P. A Memoir of Captain C. Seton Fleming: of the Second Florida Infantry, C.S.A., Reprint 1985: Jacksonville: Times-Union Publishing House, 1884. Marshall, Charles. Lees Aide-De-Camp: Being the Papers of Colonel Charles Marshall Sometime Aide-De-Camp, Military Secretary, and Assistant Adjutant General on the Staff of Robert E. Lee, 1862-1865. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, and Frederick Maurice. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. Newman, Simon P. "A Democrat in Lincoln's Army: The Civil War Letters of Henry P. Hubbell." The Princeton University Library Chronicle 50, no. 2 (1989): 155-68. Rhodes, Elisha Hunt. All for the Union: A History of the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry in the War of the Great Rebellion. Edited by Robert Hunt Rhodes. Lincoln, RI: A. Mowbray, 1985. Small, Abner Ralph. The Sixteenth Maine Regiment in the War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865. London: Forgotten Books, 2015. Survivors' Association 118th (Corn Exchange) Regt., P.V., History of the Corn Exchange Regiment 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers,62. 62 United States War Department. The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 19. Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. Tourgée Albion W. The Story of a Thousand: Being a History of the Service of the 105th Ohio Volunteer Infantry in the War for the Union, from August 21, 1862, to June 6, 1865. Edited by Peter C. Luebke. Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 2011.Watkins, Samuel R.Company Aytch or A Side Show of the Big Show: A Memoir of the Civil War. Edited by Ruth Hill Fulton McAllister. Nashville, TN: Turner, 2011

Issue 60.3 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Explorations Religious Life Heritages Faithful ~Witness MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 Review for Re, ligious,helps people respond and he faithful to God's universal call to holiness by ~naking available t_o them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: g~r,v.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 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. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this ~ssue 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 t.he Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann F~ppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling AdrianGaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittherg SC MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 contents explorations 230 "Women Religious, Women Deacons? Phyllis Zagano explores why a woman, secular or religious, would seek ordination as a deacon and what questions this poses f6r the corporate life of a religious institute. 245 Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR explores whether there are limits to the professional confidentiality to be kept by ministers and religious superiors and the need for appropriate norms and sanctions. 254 The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns Linda Herndon OSB introduces some of the s~cial and ethical issues in the computer world, raising some questions, and proposing some practical responses, to stimulate further discussion. 262 269 religious life Authenticity and Contact with Youth Robert P. Maloney CM calls for an asceticism of authenticity that engages and challenges young people in their passion for Christ. Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Kathy Dunne RC looks at the vow of obedience as it is born of love, forms us as lovers, and bears the fruit of love. Review for Religious 277 286 heritages ¯ Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage William C. Zehringer traces the complex pilgrimage story of the medieval mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg. The Poverello's Legacy Bonaventure Stefun OFMCap gives many Franciscan exemplars of poverty as lived through the centuries, all united by Francis's key notion of attachment to Jesus. 295 308 faithful witness Here I Am You Called Me? Marie Beha OSC delves into the meaning of presence, considering especially how we might respond more fully to God and to others. Leap Over the Wall: Why Did I Not? Mary Anne Huddleston IHM offers her personal witness to the commitment value of consecrated life. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: Requirements for Temporary Profession 320 Book Reviews May-June 2001 prisms To opposing tendencies vie within us from the very beginning of life. Human beings are described as always struggling to stay within the comfort life of the womb and yet pushing to find a con-tinuing newness of life outside the womb. We rejoice in the known, the familiar, what has always been, the traditional. We can be enlivened also by the unknown, what is new and untried, the innovative. A healthy passage between these two human tendencies is caught up in the activity called exploration. Our growth as chil-dren came through exploration; we grow as adults only if we continue regularly to experience the exploratory passage, a passage that joins the past to the future. When John Paul II made his appeal for a new evan-gelization, it was an exploratory call. It was not imme-diately evident to all of us Catholics how far this call extended. We are beginning to realize that a new evan-gelization takes in not just ways of proclaiming the gospel that are effective for our time but also ways of celebrating that proclamation. The latest revisioning of the sacramentary and lectionary is a part of this continuing renewal of our efforts in celebrating the Eucharist as the central mystery of our faith. We con-tinue to explore the passage between the liturgical rites as we have known them and a new formulation of these rites that may more effectively help today's people understand their meaning in relation to contemporary patterns of thought and expectation. A liturgical spirituality rightly has pride of place. But so-called "popular" devotions are important too. In the Roman Catholic Latin rite, expression found in liturgical prayer usually remains formal, with feelings restricted and subjective emotions set aside--whatever the vernacular translation. The more personal and emo- Review for Reli#ous tive piety that was characteristic of Catholic devotional life in the 19th and 20th centuries--expressed in popular language and images--necessarily had to recede in importance after Vatican Council II. The explorations central to our faith expression in baptism, Eucharist, and reconciliation focused all of our worship-ing energy. Marian devotions, Sacred Heart devotions, Eucharistic holy hours, and Stations of the Cross suffered a time of eclipse. Granted that the central place of the Eucharistic celebration and the other sacraments has been properly positioned for us Catholics, we are now enabled to express our persistent hunger and need to nourish our Catholic life also in nonliturgical or, perhaps more positively, more personal and popular ways. As an integral part of our actively entering into our new evangelization, we need to explore devotions that do not seem to be relics of the past, but rather are "new" prayerful ways of celebrating our faith that express the yearnings of our hearts today. What form will these explorations take? We cannot say since devotional life is so much shaped by the social and cultural milieu in which we live. Devotions need contemporary imaging, vocal expressions, and musical or quasi-musical rhythms that appeal to today's people. For example, does the May procession and crown-ing of Mary as queen--a memory many Catholics treasure-- emphasize rather the distancing of Mary from our daily experience rather than her closeness? What may have been "devotional" at a particular time may not be a fitting expression and imaging today. Does a 40-hour Eucharistic devotion fit the rhythm of our social milieu or would a 7 p.m.zto-12 midnight or a 24-hour, all-night vigil speak better? We need to explore how these "old" devotions can be truly a part of our new evangelization; our exploration is an effort to stretch personal and group memories into personal and group hopes and expressions. We may look to the renewal of some of our older devotions such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart (identified of old with the month of June) or we may seek to honor and find our own life-inspiration by devotions expressed for one of our newly canon-ized saints who combines charity with a j3rophetic thirst for justice. Regardless, we are responding to the call for a new evangelization. Exploration is necessary for a faith that is alive and well. No, bet-ter said, exploration is necessary for us believers who want to grow in our maturity in Christ. David L. Fleming SJ May-~une 2001 explorations PHYLLIS ZAGANO Women Religious, Women Deacons? In recent years, discussion about Catholic women's ordi-nation has centered on the priesthood, and the diaconate " has been seen primarily as a step toward priesthood. The official opposition to the ordination of women as priests is well and widely known. But the official position on the ordination of women to the diaconate is that it is "under study." Conflict about the impossibility of women becoming pries(s has obscured the possibility of their becoming deacons even though, after the revival of the per.manent diaconate in the West, the concept of permanent women deacons found significant support.~ Today wtrldwide requests by individuals and groups to have'women ordained to serve the people of God strengthen the notion that the church could restore the female diaconate.2 Such possi-bility, if not probability, provides the opportunity for apostolic institutes and individual religious t6 question whether ordination would be appropriate for them cor-porately, or individually, or both. Phyllis Zagano is founding cochair of the Roman Catholic Studies Group of.the American Academy of Religion and author most recently of.Holy Saturday: An ,qrgument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconafe in tbe Catholic Church (Crossroad). She can be reached c/o Crossroad Publishing Company; 481 Eighth Avenue, #1550; New York, N.Y. 10011; and at pzagano@rcn.com. Review for Religious Why would a woman, secular or religious, wish to be ordained? There is significant resistance among women to becoming involved in a system widely viewed as patriarchal, especially in what is arguably a subservient role. Some say there is no need for ordi-nation, since everything a deacon does can be done with special permission by a lay person. Some focus on other issues. Others say the diaconate is not enough. The answers that affirm a woman's request for diaconal ordi-nation are as individual as each person's vocation to live a life of prayer and service. The unfolding of a single lifelong quest for God has many different layers, and vocations often grow in unex-pected directions. The deacon's vocation is to a life as "minister of the word, of the liturgy, and of charity.''3 Numbers of women's institutes find one or another of these calls, perhaps all, in their founding documents. In fact, women religious are always involved in works of charity, as they can be most broadly described, and their service is similar if not identical to that of deacons. Hence, why should women religious not be formally present and repre-sented in the liturgy? It is women religious who most clearly and most publicly enflesh the gospel. Why should they not proclaim it at Mass and explain, it in a homily? Realistically speaking, women religious are increasingly involved in diaconal work and works, and the charism of orders could only strengthen their commitments and their service. The church itself, both informally and formally, has called forth women to expressly diaconal work and works, that is, work and works that could be more fully served by women deacons. As Doris Gottemoeller RSM pointed out a few years ago, women religious are increasingly parochialized~ to the point that hundreds are parish administrators and are also increasingly involved in professional institutional chaplaincy. Further, official Vatican documents repeat-edly call for inclusion of women in official roles in the church.4 As more women are more involved (even t~ull-time) in diaconal ministries, the need to ordain them becomes clearer, in order to better serve the people of God. For example, there are obvious drawbacks when a woman religious working as a pastoral associate or chaplain does not have the ordinary authority to celebrate bap-tisms solemnly, or witness marriages, or preach, or fully lead litur-gical prayer, all of which ordained deacons do when they have standard faculties.5 If women religious are already serving in clerical roles, why not May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? add diaconal ordination to their religious charisms? Perhaps obvi-ously the answer is that the nature of lay religious life is different from the nature of clerical religigus life. For an apostolic insti-tute to ordain members, or to incorporate new members already ordained, would imply a change in its nature. Since the church in the West might at any time return to its tradition of a permanent female diaconate, these considerations are real. Even if only hypo-thetically for now, women religious might individually and cor-porately consider the possibilities and consequences of ordination. Six questions asked by the ordaining prelate in the liturgy of ordination combine to form the perfect discernment tool with regard to religious life and the diaconate. The considerations given below do not and could not cover the combinations and permu-tations in every individual case. But they can open the door to additional individual or group discernment on this important pos-sibility. Can a woman religious answer yes to these six questions? More importantly, should she? 1. Are you willing to be ordained for the church's ministry by the laying on of hands and the gift of the Holy Spirit? The woman who might be ordained would be ordained to ministry--of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. A woman reli-gious, therefore, would have the nature of her public Commitment permanently changed. The ordination to ministry would not nec-essarily replace her celibate commitment to a life of prayer and service within her apostolic religious institute, but it would change it. Here she is asked to be available not only for the works of char-ity for which deacons are known, but for "the church's mi.nistry"-- the church's pastoral ministry--of baptizing, marrying, preaching, and burying the dead. This question asks if the deacon candidate will accept the pro-fessional obligations of ministry. The church's pastoral ministry already includes many apostolic women religious; they are pas-toral associates, performing almost every work an associate pastor might. In ~iddition, women religious run the parish soup kitchen and family center, oversee catechetics and the RCIA program. The gradual shift during the last century by institutes of apostolic reli-gious from teaching or nursing in their own institutions to other historically usual works of the deacon, often within the diocesan structure, underscores the whole church's calling women to wider ministries. Women, and especially women religious, are indeed doing the work of ordained deacons. But they are not ordained. As Review for Religious I have argued elsewhere, it is not desirable for the church to con-fuse vows with ordination,6 and so I would argue here that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the strengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. For the sake of discussion, we can assume that the majority of women religious who would seek diaconal ordination would also choose to remain members of their own religious institutes. Their vocational discernment would need to separate the charism of celibacy in consecrated life from the charism of ordained diaconal life, which does not require celibacy, and from the charism of celibate ordained life. While the vocation to celibate life in community is not identical to the vocation to ordained life, the two vocations are not mutually exclusive. That is, consecrated celibacy and ecclesial ministry are not mutually exclusiye, but each requires separate consideration and support. As Sandra Schneiders has recently pointed out, a "coherent theological framework within which prayer, sacramental life, and ministry make sense in themselves and in relation to each other is cru-cial to the relationship with Jesus Christ that alone justifies com-mitment in consecrated, celibacy that is at the heart of religious life.''7 By contrast, professional ministerial commitment is open to all, celibate or married, "~ho find themselves called to identify with the ministry of Christ: The charism of celibacy can be seen as analogous but not identical to the deacon's call to be minister of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. Again, the call to diaconal ministry does not nec-essarily include celibacy. While the charism of consecrated celibacy might be more broadly experienced by the church if the majority of ordained women religious remained in their institutes, as such this charism should not be confused with the separate and distinct call to diaconal orders. The call to the diaconate is specifically and primarily "f6r the church's ministry," not for an apostolic min-istry arising from celibate commitment within a religious .insti- I would argue that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the s~rengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? tute, even though the two calls may coexist in one person and in one institute. The operative points in this question are whether and how the woman religious would participate in the church's ministry while remaining a member of her institute. Those are matters of discernment to be taken up by her,.her superior, and--if she is the first of her institute to ask to be ordained--by the chapter of her institute. 2. Are you resolved to discharge the office of deacon with humility and love in order to assist the bishop and the priests and to serve the people of Christ? There is an ancient document in which a bishop sets forth the qualities necessary for women to be ordained deacons. His major concern is that they be able to get along with the priests.9 Church history, then and now, is replete with examples of ten-sions between priests and deacons. Humility is not humiliation, but many contemporary deacons suffer the latter in their relations with priests, who in many cases just do not know what to do with them and are often threatened by their presence. These insecuri-ties will not be cured by adding ordained women to the mix, but they might be overcome through hard work and loving consider-ation on both sides. There is no question that priests need assis-tance in the pastoral care of souls, and many have learned how to effectively and professionally accept the assistance both of women, secular and religious, and of deacons; the new challenge would be to accept the assistance of women deacons. But the diaconate is not the priesthood, and an objection to the church's potential returning of women to the ranks of ordained deacons (without creating women priests) is that the women dea-cons would still be serving in subordinate positions to men. In many cases, of course, this is true. Yet significant numbers of men serve in the same subordinate positions to other men. Also, many deacons serve in leadership positions in rural dioceses and mis-sion territories. The many women serving in similar situations would be able.to expand their ministries if they were ordained. One source of tension between priests and deacons might dis-appear if the majority of women ordained were to remain as mem-bers of their religious institutes. Currendy most permanent deacons are married. Very few of the unmarried deacons are religious, pointing to a clear distinction between the vocations even though they are combined in the lives of some individuals. There are Review for Religious 25,345 deacons in 129 countries around the world, of whom 514, or two percent, are religious,l° In contrast, there are 404,208 priests in the world, of whom 140,687, or thirty-five percent, are reli-gious, l' These statistics seem to indicate that the distinction between celibate secular and religious life among the ordained is clear, but the vocations are not mutually exclusive. Whether thirty-three percent (the percentage of religious among today's deacons and priests) of the women ordained to the diaconate would become or remain members of religious insti-tutes is, of course, unknown. It is not likely that women candidates for the dia-conate would come mostly from women religious. Rather, many older married women and widows might seek to ratify and intensify through diaconal ordina-tion their commitments to their current volunteer or professional service of the people of God as catechists, lectors, Eucharistic ministers,.and chaplains or pastoral associates. Similarly, young Catholic women now in master-of-divin-ity programs in Protestant and Catholic .seminaries might seek diaconal ordination. Current statistics on lay catechists and other church workers suggest that seventy per-cent of women deacons would be married or single seculars and thi'rty percentof women deacons would be members of religious institutes. The challenge to all the women who envision possible ordi-nation to the diaconate is to recognize with h.umility and love that, practically speaking, they would be assisting the priests, but that their reason for being ordained is to serve the people of God. 3. Are you resolved to hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition? A significant number of the women presently engaged in min-isterial studies are in programs at denominational or interde-nominational Protestant seminaries. There are many reasons for this. Such seminaries are generally in cities, often near or even attached to major" universities, and therefore accessible. These seminaries are often well endowed, and they have substantial schol- It is not likely that women candidates for the diaconate would come mostly from women religious. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? arship programs available to women. And master-of-divinity pro-grams at American Catholic seminaries, and specifically at dioce-san seminaries, are not generally available to women. VChile many Catholic seminaries have a second-track "institute" that allows those who are not candidates for priesthood to study with the same faculty, the training offered is not identical and formation possibilities are often minimal. The extraordinary success of the programmatic exceptions to these general statements proves the thirst of many for professional training and ministry formation by and for Catholics. But, in fact, many Catholic women have studied and continue to study at Protestant seminaries; they are or soon will be ministering in dia-conal roles throughout the country. Not all are fully convinced of all church teachings, and their Protestant training has not pro-vided support for such acceptance. It remains to be seen whether they could be resolved to hold with a clear conscience "the mys-tery of the faith., and the church's tradition." The controversial issues that secular women students and min-isters presently consider, sometimes outside the boundaries of ordinary church teaching, might not be so prevalent among reli-gious, or at least among women religious who might be ordained to the diaconate. Even so, there are current ways of discussing certain topics, principally homosexuality, abortion, contraception, and priestly ordination for women, that could render women can-didate~ ineligible for diaconal ordination. Further, there are mis-conceptions and misperceptions about certain church dogmas, from Eucharist to original sin, that would similarly end an indi-vidual candidacy on its merits rather than on the question of gen-der. If these variant positions are indelibly held, for whatever reason, then the woman in question might still be able to minis-ter as a lay catechist--as many currently do--without diaconal ordination. In fact, some might considerdiaconal ordination a hindrance to ministry rather than an enhancement. There is a trend toward this way of thinking among some women in the church. The issue is not necess~arily bound up with any of the neuralgic questions listed above; it is, rather, managing to live a ministerial life without entering the hierarchy or, bluntly, the "male" system. The individual woman not in diaconal orders is in no way bound to the bishop and need not fear his pro-nouncements except insofar as she is employed by him or by one of his parishes or agencies. Even so, many parishes and agencies Review for Religious retain employees whose full consent with all church teaching is neither required nor requested, except perhaps officially. Any effort by an individual bishop to formally require such consent is viewed as draconian at best, and so short-staffed bishops in good economic times can tend to let well enough alone, and not enter too deeply into parish and agency employee matters. The woman, secular or religious, who would seek diaconal orders would have to answer some difficult questions in her own heart and mind about Magisterial teaching, not the least of which would be the theological anthropology, history, sacramental the-ology, and ecclesiology that would allow her to be ordained a deacon while refusing her priestly orders. Hence there is every possibility that individual women can-didates for ordination might have problems when asked if they "hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and [will] proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition." 4. Are you resolved to maintain and deepen a spirit of prayer appropriate to your way of life and, in keeping with what is required of you, to celebrate faithfully the liturgy of the hours for the church and for the whole world? This is an interesting consideration for apostolic women reli-gious. The celebration of the liturgy of the hours generally required of all clerics includes the office of readings, morning prayer, one daytime prayer, evening prayer, and night prayer. Though this fourth question includes some interesting phrases, "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you," one can .assume that up to an hour of each day is expected to be devoted to the liturgy of the hours, in addition to the time given to the liturgy of the Eucharist and any private meditation, scripture study, and spiritual reading. This is a significant commitment of time. Contemplative and monastic orders celebrate the full liturgy either publicly (spending considerably more than an hour) or both privately and publicly, but many apostolic women religious are no longer accustomed to praying even a portion of the liturgy of the hours, even privately. Along with their living more in nontradi-tional settings, formal prayer in choir has diminished. These changes in institutional religious life at first created a growth medium for different types of communal prayer, often developed by individuals 6r by individual communities. Continued changes May-ffune 2001 Zagano ¯ Wonten Religious, Wotnen Deacons? in communal life, however, have often led to the dropping even of these individualized prayer services from daily to perhaps monthly gatherings, usually with members of 'an intentional prayer group rather than with the "same roof' community. Each permutat!on moves apostolic religious farther from the tradition of praying the liturgy of the hours "for the church and for the whole world," both publicly and privately. A woman religious who would accept the obligations of the liturgy of the hours might find herself limited by time and space from participating in the life-giving communal prayer that nour-ished her desire to seek ordination in the first place. It wouid be as difficult to choose one or the other as it would be to choose both. Where the development of differing types of communal prayer for and among women religious has in many cases created opportunities for growth, it has also intensified the male-female divide, where most of the men (as clerics) and most of th~ women (as apostolic religious) have habits of prayer that are distinct from each other. (In North America, as is true worldwide, there are about twice as many apostolic women religious as priests, secular or religious.12) One would think, therefore, that the obligation to pray the liturgy of the hours might present a challenge to women. But, while all clerics are obliged to celebrate the liturgy of the hours, diocesan directors of diaconate programs state that few deacons do. This is the import of the phrases "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you." Typical married working deacons are sincerely encouraged to pray at least thd "hinges" of the day: morning and evening prayer, and night prayer too. Many, if not most, cannot pray the office of readings. Some cannot attend daily Mass. Some do not engage daily in extended personal prayer or scripture reading. While this information is anecdotal at best, it seems little would be actually added to the schedule of a woman religious, whose personal and communal practices probably already exceed those of the typical deacon. So this question could clearly be answered in the affirmative by the. woman religious who sought ordination to the diaconate. 5. Are you resolved to shape your way of life always according to the example of Christ, whose bo.dy and blood you will give to the people? The question is deceptively simple for women religious, whose lives are a constant endeavor to conform their whole' beings to Review for Religious Christ. That they have been engaged in such a struggle for their entire adult lives creates in some cases a distance between them and most secular candidates for the permanent diaconate or the priest-hood. While the emphasis in religious formation is on formation, and in seminary training on training, deacon candidates do receive a certain amount of formation. But religious formation-- focusing as it does, or at least has done, on prayer, life in community, and participation in institutional ministries--creates a qualitative dif-ference that is sometimes strikingly obvious. Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service, just as in the case of the ordained service of men religious. A specific attitude of prayer, and selfless ded-ication to mission, are sometimes difficult to obtain later in life, especially by married candidates for orders who have the complica-tions of their secular lives to deal with: spouses, children, grandchil-dren, mortgages, careers, and political life. Of course, the differences can be seen both positively and nega-tively. Since the secular laity con-stitute ninety-nine percent of the church, one might argue that, rather than from among women religious, deacons ought be taken from among mature lay people. One might theorize that some of today's criticisms of celibate sec-ular (male) priests would be leveled at celibate secular (female) deacons. Criticisms of religious priests, which could be equally leveled at religious deacons, often revolve around the apparent and sometimes real financial and personal security of priests and religious. Secular lay persons often complain of a sort of "macu-lar degeneration" in the worldview of religious, ~ blindness to cer-tain exigencies of secular life, a chasm of nonunderstanding. While religious, as countercultural witnesses to the gospel, must be inde-pendent of political exigencies, they must recognize and constandy guard against such blindness. The very fact that women religious are personally and financially free to give prophetic witness to unpopular causes runs the risk of overpowering the poor, whom they most wish to serve. Criticism comes easily, and, since no one Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service. ~lay-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? knows precisely what it means to be a woman deacon, these shoals and narrows must be viewed as opportunities. The delicate nature of ministry is enclosed in this question: Can the candidate for the diaconate shape a "way of life always according to the example of Christ"? It would be a radical chal-lenge for a woman religious to continue to live her religious pro-fession completely and freely while adding the responsibility of living out the charism of orders. Would she better continue to serve as a lay religious in commitment to the gospel, or would she better combine that commitment with the charism of ordained service? Beyond, would she better incorporate in her religious life and ministry the charism of ordained diaconal service, for which there is little precedent? In fact, the spiritual!ty of the diaconate is not well developed. For the deacon, what does it Mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ? What does it mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ for the woman who would be a deacon, and who would be considered in rank with other mostly married male deacons? These are questions that will.really only be answered by the first few women deacons. Practically speaking, it may only be women religious who are available to make the rad-ically prophetic choice to be ordained and serve as deacons in what are mostly uncharted waters. 6. Do you promise respect and obedience to me and my successors? Ordained women religious would remain bound to their supe-riors; ordained secular women would become bound to their dioce-san bishop. When asked of secular candidates, this question would bind a woman to her bishop for all matters: assignments, faculties, man-ner of dress, and so forth, and through him to the universal law of the church. The ordination of secular women to the diaconate would create a class of women whose ministry would be specifically at the disposal of the diocesan bishop. However, when a religious is ordained to the diaconate, this last question refers only to the religious superior and is generally rephrased to reflect the obedience of vowed religious. Only the religious superior gives permission to a member to be ordained; only the religious superior decides what work the religious cleric will take up. No bishop may unilaterally assign a religious to a work, and the local ordinary has authority and jurisdiction only Review for Religqous over what is done in his name, for example, the celebration of liturgies and sacraments (baptisms, marriages, and so forth) and actual work within the diocesan structure. Practically speaking, there may be no advantage to orders for the woman religious outside the diocesan ~tructure, because any-thing she might do that requires clerical status (with the possible exception of preaching homilies at Eucharistic liturgies) would be done in the name of the bishop and with his permission. So the determination here would be whether her religious superior would find ordination necessary for the individual religious's assigned work. That said, there are women reli-gious in the diocesan structure, and the needs of the people of God whom they serve as pastoral associates, tri-bunal judges, chancellors, and chap-lains would be better addressed by a more permanent.authorization, rather than by temporary or ad hoc lay juriso diction.13 The deeper question regarding the ordination of wtmen religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Institutes of consecrated life are either diocesan or pontifical. Neither is exempt from obedience to ordinaries in matters pertaining to their episcopal authority, but superiors and chapters of institutes retain their power over their members, even if some or all of their members are clerics (canon 596). Canon Law provides for only two types of religious institutes: clerical and lay (canon 588). While, stricdy speaking, clerical insti-tutes must be headed by clerics, men's institutes that include lay brothers have obtained rescripts, or special permissions, to include brothers in their governments. These rescripts indicated that a clerical member of the institute be designated to carry out acts of jurisdiction requiring orders, and it is not clear the need would arise if the only clerical members were deacons. Since the Second Vatican Council, lay institutes have been able to allow members to be ordained without changing the nature of the institutes from lay to clerical.'4 After the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, Pope John Paul II established a special com-mission to study jurisdiction questions within mixed (clerical-and- The deeper question regarding the ordination of women religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? lay) institutes, but the provision for lay institutes to remain lay while allowing some of their members to be ordained already exists. So there is no need to assume that the woman religious deacon would automatically cause her institute to give up its essen-tially lay status by allowing her ordination.'s The considerations implied by this final question about respect for and obedience to the ordaining prelate include whether insti-tutes might admit women who were previously ordained. Canon law provides for these exigencies in the case of men previously ordained who wish to enter religious orders, and there is no reason to think, theoretically at least, that ordained secular women could not become members of apostolic institutes of women religious. In discerning her vocation to orders, however, a woman religious would have to discern whether she would choose ordi-nation over membership, should her institute in chapter decline to include ordained members or should her superior decline to give her permission to be ordained. This presents a radical challenge of both vocation and obedience, and underscores the authority of superiors and chapters. These painful possibilities of growth are facts of life. Some women religious might be required to choose between ordination and their religious institutes, but not necessarily between ordi-nation and religious life. Women religious who chose orders over membership might well form new religious institutes, either wholly clerical or clerical-and-lay, creating a new expression of religious life. The larger consideration for women religious corporately is their insertion in the lay state. While canon law says that by its very nature religious life is neither clerical nor lay, women religious can rightly claim "outsider" status to the hierarchical system, even though their public pronouncements and political involvements are identically restricted. It is both significant and interesting that most women's institutes are more clearly led by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious than by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. This is not new: monastics have always sought to be independent of local ordinaries. Whether ordained women religious would shift the balance of an institute remains t6 be seen, but their ordination would clearly depend, among other things, upon the needs of their institute and of the church at large. In this matter the specific charism incorporated in lay religious insti-tutes would need to be guarded, and an institute's decision against Review for Religious their members' becoming ordained would probably depend chiefly upon such a safeguard. Women religious, especially in the United States, are poised in a particular moment of freedom to raise their voices in defense of the poor and the marginalized. Though they comprise an aging population--the median age is approximately sixty-nine--women religious might, in prophetic witness to the gospel, decide that as lay religious they have nothing left to lose and clerical status might change that.~6 But, then again, it might not. The church needs the service of women and of all who would seriously take up the challenge of the gospel. One might say, "Would that all God's people were prophets!" Let us acknowledge that some women religious might better serve as clerics, and others not. Either choice is prophetic. Notes ~ The 1971 report of a committee of the Catholic Theological Society of America, "The Office of Deacon as a Lifetime State," recommended ordaining women deacons and was printed in American Ecclesiastical Review (March 1971), Crux (19 March 1971), Worship (April 1971), and Catholic Mind (May 1971). See also Clergy Review 56 (1971): 891-893. Additional contemporary discussion on the topic can be found in Agnes Cunningham SSCM, "Women and the Diaconate," American Ecclesiastical Review 165 (1971): 158-166; Peter HiJnermann, "Note: Conclusions Regarding the Female Diaconate," Theological Studies 36 (1975): 325- 333; A.M. Tortras, "Women Priests or Women Deacons?" Theology Digest 29, no. 3 (Fall 1981), translation of "~Mujeres Presbftero o Mujeres Di~cono? Apuntes para una Ordenaci6n de la Mujer," Estudios Eclesifisticos 55, no. 214 (1980): 355-368. ' I have presented an argument from theological anthropology, sacra-mental theology, history, ecclesiology, and law in Phyllis Zagano, Holy Saturday: An Argument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconate in the Catholic Church (Crossroad/Herder, 2000). 3 Roman Ritual, Ordination of Deacons. 4 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "The Priesthood: Implications in Consecrated Life for Women," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC (New York: Paulist Press, 1997), pp. 127-138. s The Archdiocese of Anchorage, Alaska, first received a renewable rescript to allow lay persons to solemnly baptize and to witness mar-riages in 1990. A few women religious who are administrators of rural parishes and two other lay person.s have been so authorized on a case-by-case basis. 6 Zagano, Holy Saturday, pp. 142-145. 7 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women-Religious, Women Deacons? Religious Life in a New Ecdesial and Cultural Context (New York: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 149. 8 Schneiders rightly points out that the specific charism of celibacy for religious is distinct from the unmarried state of the secular cleric. 9 Apostolic Canons of the Church, canon 21. See Josephine Mayer, Monumenta de viduis diaconissis virginibusque tractantia (Bonn: P. Hanstein, 1938), which includes a significant collection of early documents about women deacons. 10 "The Permanent Diaconate Today," A Research Report by the Bis}~ops' Committee on the Diaconate of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops and by the Center for Applied Research on the Apostolate (June 2000), p. 2. " 2000 Catholic Almanac (Huntington: Our Sunday Visitor, 2000), p. 345, citing Statistical Yearbook of the Church, 1997. 12 There are 819,279 sisters and 404,208 priests. Statistics do not dif-ferentiate between women religious who are "sisters" in apostolic insti-tutes and those who were formerly called "nuns" in cloistered orders. 2000 Catholic Almanac, p. 345. 13 A committee of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, drawing on the LCWR "Benchmarks" study, is analyzing lay jurisdiction. See Jeanean D. Merkel, ed., Creating a Home: Benchmarks for Church Leadership Roles for Women (Silver Spring, Md.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1996). 14 Canon Law Society of America, The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate (Washington, D.C.: Canon Law Society of America, 1995), pp. 47-48, citing Vatican Council II, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §10. See also Paul Vl, Sacrum diaconatus ordinem, §32, which provides for religious institutes to have some permanent deacons among their members. ~s Territorial monasteries of women present a special case because their prioresses and abbesses have historically had quasi-episcopal author-ity. For the sake of the argument here, we consider only apostolic insti-tutes of women. t6 As of 30 December 1999, the median age of women religious in the United States was 68.49, up from 67.87 in the previous year, according to a study commissioned by the National Religious Retirement Office, Washington, D.C. Review for Religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? In the Catholic tradition the superiors or animators of reli- .~. gious congregations and communities are expected to respect confidentiality, especially with regard to delicate personal, infor-mation regarding members, to which they have relatively easy access. In church discipline, howdver, there is no official sanction or limit attached to this conventional norm. On the one hand, if a superior violates such confidentiality and thus damages the good name of the confiding member, there are no clear prescriptions in the church's universal law about how the superior is to be dealt with. On the other hand, it is not officially established how a supe-rior ought to act when a member violates the confidentiality and unjustly damages the good name of the superior. Is it only the superior who.is bound by confidentiality? Or, when a member vio-lates confidentiality and damages:the superior's good name (or anyone else's), is the superior still bound by confidentiality? In this essay I attempt to answer these questions, using tradi-tional Catholic moral principles. First I illustrate the point at stake with a real incident well known among religious in Sri Lanka. Then I briefly analyze this kind of confidentiality in terms of its close associate, the professional secret. I examine why conflden- Vimal Tirimanna CSSR is provincial of his congregations's Sri Lankan province and president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Sri Lanka. His address is: 80, Amfritiya Road; Kandy; Sri Lanka. May-.]une 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tiality is essential in certain professions and ministries. Finally I examine whether such professional secrecy always binds the pro-fessional, the minister, the religious superior. A Real Case In 1998 two temporarily professed seminarians (one for four years, one for three) belonging to a clerical religious congrega-tion wrote to their major superior for his approval of their going out to do secular work for a couple of years and thereby testing their vocations. Since the formators and the superiors were already having some serious doubts about these two seminarians' suit-ability for consecrated life, the major superior, with his council's consent, readily approved the request. In the same year another seminarian (temporarily professed for two years) applied for dis-pensation within a week of renewing his vows, saying he Wanted to help his family financially by getting a.secular job. After much hesitation and dialogue, the major superior together with his coun-cil granted the dispensation. At the beginning of the year 2000, all three of these seminar-ians-- with the help of a former, major superior of the same con-gregation (who had been living outside his community illegitimately ever since he left office) and a disgruntled priest member of the same congregation (who had been illegitimately ~bsent for almost two years)--applied to join a diocese in Australia. All three were accepted for the diocese without any consultation of their major superior. The major superior wrote to the Congregation for Catholic Education in Rome, inquiring whether such circumventing of him by the bishop was licit. The Roman congregation asked the bishop for an explanation, and the bishop brought this to the notice of the three seminarians. In the mean-time the disgruntled priest member, living in the same diocese, got hold of the three seminarians and together they wrote a letter to Rome maligning the good name of the present major superior, their intention being to belittle his credibility in the eyes of the Roman dicastery and thus influence the latter's decision. The major superior's predecessor also wrote a letter, to the bishop in Australia, holding the present major superior responsible for the "ruin" of the congregation in Sri Lanka, especially for the dwindling number of members, and charging that it was the same superior's ruth-lessness that drove the three seminarians away from the congre- Review for Religious gation. He sent copies of the letter to several bishops and major superiors in Sri Lanka, obviously with the intention of eroding fur-ther the credibility of the major superior. Note here that the major superior, together with his council, had already initiated a canon-ical process against the disgruntled priest who was illegitimately absent in Australia and against the ex-major superior, also illegiti-mately absent from his religious community. Could this be their, way of settling scores with the major superior? On his part, the Australian bishop sent a copy of this let-ter of the ex-major superior to the above-mentioned Roman dicastery to justify his action of not consulting the major supe-rior before he accepted the three semi-narians to his diocese. After weighing all the matters at stake, the Congregation for Catholic Education instructed the Australian bishop, to consult the Sri Lankan major superior, saying that, acc.ording to the accepted official prac-tice, he ought to have consulted him before taking those three seminarians into his diocese. Apparently the Roman congrega-tion's stipulation to consult the major superior at least at that late stage was the only way of settling the issue in a spirit of Christian charity. But what about the damage this entire episode caused to the major superior? His good name was unjustly tarnished, and he had no way of defending himself, which was surely a legitimate right of his. As the major superior, he could not simply divulge certain vital information regarding the three seminarians and two priests-- which would have given the other side of the story and defended him. He was bound by confidentiality. Ironically, confidentiality, which normally serves to protect the good name of the persons involved, has in this case served to silence the major superior and prevent him from defending his own good name. In the light of this real-life situation, one may ask: In religious life, should con-fidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except supe-riors? Should superiors be the victims of confidentiality? Are there circumstances when the superiors would not be bound to confi-dentiality? In religious life, should confidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except superiors ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality What Is Confidentiality? The term confi'dentiality normally has to do with keeping secrets. Something becomes confidential when a private matter is imparted in secret with the trust that it will not be revealed to anyone else.l According to the moral philosopher Sissela Bok, confidentiality refers to the I~oundaries surrounding shared secrets and to the process, of guarding these boundaries. While confi-dentiality protects much that is not in fact secret, personal secrets lie at its core.2 In confidentiality, then, what is at stake is the fidelity, keeping faith with those who have confided their secrets on condition that they not be revealed) Understood in this sense, confidentiality covers a wide range of ordinary day-to-day human dealings, in which two parties or more are bound, at least by tacit agreement, not to reveal what has been confided. Some promi-nent examples have to do with what is called professional secrecy. In his classic work written more than fifty years ago, Robert Regan defined it as follows: The term professional secrecy denotes a specific moral duty inherent in certain offices or functions of a confidential nature exercised in society. It connotes in its simplest form a relationship between one person constituted in some sort of need and another person expert and skilled in caring for such needs and with official or quasi-official authorization to do so. Professional secrecy may be defined as a special moral obligation, binding in both commutative and legal justice, incumbent upon the members of certain confidential pro-fessions, of maintaining a discreet silence with reference to the confidential communications received by them in the course of duty.4 The professional secret, then, springs from the contractual nature of the relationship between the professional and the client. Doctors, lawyers, and priests are traditionally expected to main-tain confidentiality; they are expected not to reveal to third parties the confidential information they receive in their professional capacity from their clients. The well-known Hippocratic oath of doctors and the confessional seal of Catholic priests indicate that such confidentiality has had a long history with regard to some professions. It would be a mistake, however, to believe that pro~ fessional secrecy is expected only from those professions. Many others members of society--such as counselors, government min-isters, bankers, and accountants--are expected to honor this obli-gation of secrecy, though they may not be bound by any official Review for Religious oath or law. Religious superiors would fall into this latter category, and so, in the rest of this essay, one may see religious superiors as "professionals" and members of religious congregations as "clients." On the one hand, the duty of confidentiality enables the pro-fessionals to gain more information in order to offer help to their clients, and, on the other hand, it enables the clients to open them-selves more freely to the professionals in order to receive the help they need. Patients often share with their physicians information so private that they would not consider sharing it even with their closest friends and relatives. Such information is obviously essen-tial for correct diagnosis and appropriate therapy. Confidentiality, professional secrecy, enables patients to reveal such information to physicians. Thus, professional secrecy, while strengthening the professionals' claim to their professional status, is first and fore-most for their clients' benefit.5 Take, for example, a battered wife who has shot her husband in self-defense.6 She might deny that she has shot him at all because, not knowing that killing in self-defense is lawful, she falsely believes herself guilty of murder. In order to give her a fair trial, it is extremely important for her lawyer to get all the relevant information that led to the .shooting so that he can build a case of self-defense in her favor. But, to reveal such information, the client normally needs at least tacit assurance of confidentiality from the lawyer. It is exactly this tacit assurance of confidentiality that professional secrecy normally gives to clients seeking professional assistance. Note here that under normal circumstances, if what has been confided is revealed, the one who confided will again be victimized. The whole purpose of confidentiality is to protect such victims. What we are dealing with in this essay, however, is the peculiar case of confidentiality making a victim of the professional when the one who confided the private information takes undue advantage of the silence that confidentiality demands of the professional. In the relationship we are considering in this essay, namely, that between superiors and members, the "victims" (or clients, mem-bers, receivers of authorized "professional" leadership) become the assailants, using loose talk, letter writing, and other weapons of calumny or slander to attack the professionals. Although reli-gious superiors may have sufficient information at their disposal to defend themselves, they are bound by the obligation of confiden-tiality and thus become victims--as in the real-life illustration we sketched above. May-ffune 2001 L-249-:--- --- 2-5.0A Tirimanna ." Confidentiality May the Confidentiality Assured by the Professional Secrecy Ever Be Violated? From the discussion we have had so far, it should be clear that the obligation to keep professional secrets is mainly justifiable on the grouhds that it assures clients a clear guarantee that the infor-mation confided in professional secrecy would never be revealed and that such a guarantee evokes a sense of trust and credibility in the clients so that they feel free to share information that would help them in seeking professional assistance. Leroy Wakers holds that the main moral justifications for professional confidentiality fall into just two main categories: The major moral justifications for confidentiality fall into two broad categories: consequentialist and nonconsequen-tialist . Consequendalists generally justify the social prac-tice of preserving confidentiality in certain contexts by. arguing that the efficient functioning of the physician-patient or lawyer-client relationship would be impeded without it. Nonconsequentialists (or deontologists) usually justify con-fid~ ndality by relating it either to the duty of promise-keep-ing, if an implied or explicit promise has been made, or to the duty to respect the autonomy of persons, who in this case would otherwise lose control over important information about themselves.7 Having thus very briefly examined the moral justifications of the obligation to keep the professional secrets, we now move on to whether there can ever be circumstances in which such an obli-gation ceases. In other words, are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret? Should a physician tell an HW-positive patient's spouse or lover about the illness so that he or she can avoid risky sexual behavior? Regan draws attention to a principle, which he attributes to ¯ theologians, that may be useful in questions of this kind: "The professional person is obliged to keep the client's secre~ as long as the client retains the right to his secret.''8 In using this guiding principle, the crucial question one has to raise whenever a doubt arises is: Has the client 'the right to keep this matter secret? If the client retains that right, then the professional person must keep the secret. However, if the client for one reason or another has for-feited his or her right to secrecy, then the professional person is not bound to secrecy "and normally must take advantage of the free-dom and reveal the secr,et.''9 According to Regan, the causes that will permit or necessitate the revelation of another's secret, includ- Review for Religious ing professional secrets, are generally reducible to three categories: the consent of the client, publication of the fact or knowledge of it from another source, and the necessity of preventing harm from befalling either the community or individuals2° In this essay, what interests us is the last category: What kinds of harm to the com-munity or individuals is it necessary to try to prevent? Regan lists four main ones: .the necessity of preventing harm from befalling the community; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling clients themselves; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling an innocent third party; and the neces-sity of preventing harm from befalling oneself (the professional person). Of these four cases, what is rel-evant directly to us in this essay is the fourth case, namely, preventing harm from befalling oneself---in our case, the religious superior himself or herself. Sissela Bok seems to agree with Regan's first thre~ cases listed above. For her, harm to clients themselves, harm to other specific individuals, and harm to unknown persons or groups of persons in society are the three main limits to the obligation of keeping professional secrecy.11 She says: The premises supporting confidentiality are strong, but they cannot support practices of secrecy--whether by individual clients, institutions, or professionals themselves--that under-mine and contradict the very respec.t for persons and for human bonds that confidentiality was meant to protect.12 It is clear that keeping a professional secret is obligatory almost always. This obligation, however, has limits. In other words, while there is a strict obligation to guard the confidentiality of clients, there are circumstances in which professional secrets may be revealed. Surely one such circumstance is the case .where the pro-fessionals (religious superiors) are unjustly victimized by their clients (members of their religious congregations). Within church life there are many areas in which confiden-tiality is called for. However, except in the case of the confessional seal, church discipline does not seem to have indicated the impor- Are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tance of confidentiality by enunciating specific norms with clear-cut sanctions. In the case of the pontifical secret, for example, when people are consulted in connection with choosing a bishop, in the case of counselingi and in this essay's case about religious superiors, it is not sufficient merely to declare the Feed for con-fidentiality. Today it has become important to enunciate what such confidentiality means and why it is necessary, what its norms are, and what its sanctions and limits are. Or else, as we saw in this essay, some parties (in our case, the religious superiors) can unjustly become victims of this very much needed confidentiality. That the religious superiors are morally bound to respect confidential-ity with regard the members of their congregations is beyond dis-pute. The question I have highlighted is this: Do religious superiors have to maintain professional confidentiality absolutely, or are there circumstances when they have the moral "duty not to adhere to such confidentiality, particularly when it damages their good name? To me it seems there are occasions when they are not bound and that such occasions need to be recognized officially by the church in the form of clearly stipulated norms with appropri-ate. sanctions and limits attached to them. Such norms would surely enhance the common good of a given religious congregation whereas their continued absence is likely not only to cripple or paralyze religious superiors or animators, but also to negatively affect the work and welfare of the congregation as a whole. Notes ~ See Shaun McCarty ST, "Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 56, no. 4 (July-August 1997): 370. 2 Sissela Bok, Secrets: On the Ethics of Concealment and Revelation (New York: Vintage Books, 1989), p. 119. 3 Bok, Secrets, p. 156. 4 Robert E. Regan OSA, Professional Secrecy in the Light of Moral Principles: With an Application to Several Important Professions (Washington, D.C.: Augustinian Press, 1943), p. 47. s See Bok, Secrets, pp. 116, 122. 6 This example is taken from Alan Donagan, "Confidentiality in the Adversary System," in Ethical Issues in Professional Life, ed. Joan C. Callahan (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 253. 7 Leroy Waiters, '.'Confidentiality," in A New Dictionary of Christian Ethics, ed. James E Childress and John Macquarrie (London: SMC Press), 1986), p. 112. 8 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 9~. Review for Religious 9' Regan, Professional Secrecy, pp. 97-98. 10 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 101. 1~ See Bok, Secrecy, pp. 124-131. ~2 Bok, Secrecy, p. 135. See also Karl H. Peshke, Christian Ethics: Moral Theology in the Light of Vatican H, rev. ed., Vol. 2 (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1992), pp. 379-380. Acceptance I know you well, my sins. Like an outworn glove creased and molded to my hand I know you. Fiber-woven we have grown together through the years, and I have come to know your intertwining even in the warp and woof of each shuttled day until you and I are indefinable. I know you wall, my friends, ¯ though not always was it so; and even now I do not wish too much accommodation. But life together holds some gratitude (albeit given grudgingly). Without you being who you are I would not be who I am. Marie LeClerc Laux SSND May-.~une 2001 LINDA HERNDON The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns ComunmitpiUest etorsd ahya.v Ce obmecpoumteer sa amrea iunssetady t oin w mriotes tl erettleigrsio, utos kceoemp-track of community finances, to hold databases of information about community members and benefactors, to order library mate-rials, and to do some community business. The World Wide Web and email correspondence provide many helpful connections. Many religious have been involved in discussions about which type of computers to buy, what word-processing software to use, whether community members should all have the same type of computer and software, and other similar issues. Beyond these computer applications and issues, there are other computer matters that matter too, and our religious communities may be less alert to them. I suggest that, to begin with, we should be' talking seriously about some social and ethical issues in the computer world, such as equity of access, gender issues, privacy concerns, and the ways computer use can affect our relationships with others. On these issues I will make some remarks, raise some questions, and propose some possible practical responses, in the hope that religious communities will start similar discussions on these and other questions and find answers pertinent to their own situation. Although computers become less expensive with each passing year, they are not cheap. At present, in the first world, computers Linda Herndon OSB, of Mount St. Scholastica in Atchison, Kansas, writes from 409 N. Eau Claire Avenue, #I 10; Madison, Wisconsin 53705. Review for Religious are not necessities in the same way that telephones and cars are, but those of us who use computers regularly would find our work and our communication more difficult without them. Having com- ' puters available in our communities sets us apart from the poor. A recent study by the Fleet Boston Financial Foundation reports that in five northeastern cities fewer than half of the respondents with incomes under $40,000 a year have computers in their homes, and only 32 percent are connected to the Internet.t In 1999 a front-page article in USA Today said, "The Internet revolution is largely bypassing the poor, minorities, and those who live in rural communities and inner cities.''2 The article went on to say that Internet access was becoming both an economic and a civil-rights issue. More and more studies and articles report this. As regards the elderly, the article .said that only "15 percent of peo-ple 55 and over are on line." Although this number has surely increased by now, there is still reason for concern about older people's lack of computer knowledge and access, for with time more and more information is available only on line and not in traditional print formats. Lack of equal access to computers and the Internet, often referred to as the "Digital Divide," poses difficult questions with no simple answers, Are we in religious communities even aware that this situation exists and is a problem? How can we justify set-ting ourselves apart from significant portions of society by our possession and use of computer technology? Do we allow our employees Use of community computers? If we do, do we provide the training they need to use this often intimidating technology? Do we provide adequate computing facilities, including Internet access, for the schools and institutions that we sponsor? There are things we can do to alleviate this access problem. We can donate our older, but usable, comp~lters to community-action organizations that concern themselves with people who do not ordinarily have access to this technology. We can encourage businesses to do likewise. The Washington Post explored such possibilities in a 21 December 2000 article, "Who wants your old computer?" 3 Another way our rel!gious communities can assist organiza-tions that are working to overcome this problem of computer inac-cessibility is by sharing with them our skills in grant writing. We can become more informed about the inequity of access to both computers and the Internet, and we can stir others to address this May-June 2001 Herndon ¯ The Computer'sEdge major social and educational concern. Each .community needs to look at its charism, community resources, and ministries to decide how to address the "Digital Divide." Along with such physical access to computers and the Internet, is our community's Website accessible to all?4 Although court cases have determined that Websites do not need to meet the guide-lines set forth in the Americans with Disabilities Act,s it seems that, in ~he interest of hospitality, we will want our community Websit~ to be accessible to all who try to visit.6 Is our.Website accessible to the blind or to those who are limited to a text-only browser? Websites with the latest "bells and whistles," such as Javascript, multiple frames, sound, and even animation, may make a site inaccessible to those who are running older browsers, are visually impaired, or are accessing the site over a slow modem. As communities of women and men religious, we need to explore the type of image we wish to portray to those who visit us in cyberspace. These decisions will need to be conveyed to those who design and maintain our community Websites. Such deci-sions, if they include not having the latest innovations, may not be understood by our Website creator and may provide occasion for ongoing dialogue with and education of the Web-page designer, community decision makers, and the community as a whole. A study conducted by the American Association of University Women released in October 1998 showed that "technology is now the new 'boys' club' in our nation's public schools.''7 Their 2000 report, "Tech-Savvy: Educating Girls in the New Computer Age," found similar results.8 The current computer climate does not tend to attract girls. Girls dislike the violence present in many computer games and are looking for "high-skill, not high-kill." The entry position of girls into computi.ng is often the 2001 equiv-alent of typing and word processing. These observations, coupled with the steady decline 6f the number of women going into com-puter science and related areas for the past fifteen years, are cause for great concern. The potential contribution that women have to offer in the area of technology will be lost as long as these trends continue. The "gender gap" in technology use raises several questions for us to consider, especially those of us who are members of com-munities of women religious. Do we encourage members to con-sider technology as an important and significant area of study? Do we encourage the girls and women with whom we have con- Review for Religious tact to study computer science and other areas of technology? Do we offer women any training programs in computer skills? Do we sponsor for girls special classes or workshops in technology? These are a few ways that we can help society benefit from the gifts and skills of women in the area of technology. Is it possible for those of us with extra buildings and superfluous space to use some space for computer learning labs specially designed for girls and women? Do we help and support those who are look-ing for foundation, funds for projects that empower girls and women in the use and study of technology? In an attempt to reverse these trends, Anita Borg recently created the Institute for Women and Technology9 as a way to "increase the impact of women on technologyand to increase the positive impact of technology on the world's women.''1° Another group, Women in Technology International, seeks to empower women through technology.~1 If even a small fraction of our religious commu-nities would help support these or similar ini-tiatives where we are--elementary schools, secondary schools, universities, wherever--what a difference we could make for young girls and women. We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games .to explore other, less-violent options. What a great gift this would be to today's youth and to future generations! Lack of privacy is becoming a major concern in our society. Databases containing social-security numbers, driver's license data, health information, banking and credit information, residence and real-estate information, political-party affiliation, and more are available to all kinds of individuals, agencies, and businesses what-ever their purpose. As making purchases on' the Internet by credit card becomes common practice, the need for secure channels grows. Not all transmission of sensitive and personal information is secure; and this poses significant danger to privacy. And there is the question of the privacy of email. Email is not protected by the laws that protect the privacy of mail delivered by the United States Postal Service. Some companies and busi-nesses regularly, and legally, screen the email of their employees. Email is not secure and can be viewed at any of the computers through which it passes' on the way to its destination. At every We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games to explore other, less-violent options. Herndon ¯ The Computer's Edge. "stop" along its path, a copy of the email is.downloaded before it is sent on its way. Since backuPs of these intermediate computers are made regularly, copies of our email are stored for some days, weeks, or even months. Most people are not even aware that copies of their email exist at various unknovcn computer locations. Unauthorized access by others to an individual's email is not likely to occur, but the possibilities do exist. There are many complex questions in the area of privacy. Are we aware of the problem of the lack of privacy that massive databases and the Internet present? Are we aware of what we can do to increase our own and others' personal privacy? Are we advo-cates for email privacy, .especially in the workplace? Do we educate ourselves and our community members about privacy and security concerns in the use of the Internet? Often new users of the Internet, especially older people, are not aware of the need for precaution. We can encourage our com-munity members not to give out unnecessary information about themselves, whether on the Internet, on questionnaires, or over the telephone. The more we can keep the various pieces of informa-tion about ourselves (such as name, address, phone number, social-security number) private, the harder it is for those using multiple databases to put together ~11 the pieces for a "picture" of us. Social-security numbers are probably the single best source of information about people.2 For convenience, many agencies and institutions use s0cial-security numbers for identification num-bers. Unless required by law (as in some financial matters), no one can require that your social-security number be used for your identification number. In Kansas, where I reside, people getting a driver's license may be asked for their social-security number for use on the driver's license, but they can request another number and it will be given. I suggest that, as women and men religious, we speak out against using social-security numbers for identifica-tion. Often people's phone number, date of birth, and so forth are routinely requested on warranty applications and the like. This information is usually not necessary and need not be given out to "strangers" for a database somewhere. After educating ourselves and our community members about these privacy matters, we will be better able to educate others as well. Does our use of the computer and the Internet affect the way we relate to others within and outside our religious community? A recent study found that "the nation's obsession with the Internet Review for Religious is causing many Americans to spend less time with friends and family" and that, the more time people spend on the Internet, the less time they will spend with real human beings.13 If members of religious communities are typical of the people studied, what ai-e the implications of flaese findings for us? There is no doubt that the Internet and email can be used to keep the membership informed and in touch with leadership and its decisions and also with others in the community. But do Internet browsing~ chat rooms, and email take members away from community time and from relating with others with whom they live? Is it safer to relate to another community member at a distance, even someone we have never met face to face, than to relate to our sisters or brothers close by? A related concern is addiction to computers. Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. Do these things take religious away from their min-istry and their relating with others in normal ways? If so, there is a problem that needs to be dealt with. Seeking pornographic sites would, of course, be a problem in itself. There may be no way to legislate computer use, but religious communities can take some steps to prevent or alleviate various problems. If communal living is a priority, perhaps members should not ha~e "their own" computers. Of course, computers are pro-vided in offices, and also for ministries as needed or desirable, but these probably should not be in private rooms. Communities can have a "general access" computer or computers. Simply having them out in the open could help towards moderate use and a gen-eral sense of community. No doubt computers are here to stay. I have suggested look-ing at a number of social and ethical issues concerning computer use that'go beyond what computers to buy and which software programs are best. I believe that we women and men religious have something significant to offer in the area of computing tech-nology. It seems natural for us to become a voice regarding the social and ethical issues that computers and the Internet raise24 It will take time, much discussion, and a serious search to find answers for ourselves and our religious communities. If we com-mit ourselves to go beyond the obvious, we can bring about a Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. May-June 2001 Herndon * Tbe Computer's Edge more humane and heal.thy world of computing for ourselves, our religious communities, and the wider world that our lives touch. Since these issues are multifaceted and I have just begun to scratch the surface of them, I have created a Website with links to online resources at: http://www.mountosb.org/social-issues.html. This Website contains links to issues that I have not addressed in this article. Among them are those related to health concerns (including repetitive-stress syndrome) and to environmental con-cerns (called "green computing"). These resources provide fur-ther educational information and can help you and your community develop your own way of handling various issues. This Web page will be updated with new information and links as they become known. I invite you to contribute to making this page a useful resource for all communities of women and men religious as they continue to face or raise issues of social and ethical concern in and around the world of computers. Notes ~ The report is summarized in "News, Resources, and Trends: An Online Newsletter from Syllabus Press," a listserv email of 17 January 2001. 2 D. Lieberman, "Internet gap widening. Study: Revolution bypass-ing poor, minorities," USA Today (9-I 1 July 1999), p. 1. 3 Available at: http://washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A37762 -2000Dec21 .html 4 "Towards Equal Web Access for All," by Jim Isaak (14 January 2001): http://www.computer.org/itpro/Nov_Dec.htm s "Does the ADA Apply to the Web?" by Michael Mason (25 September 2000): http://www.wtonline.com/vol 15_nol 3/federal/1815 - 1 .html 6 For complete guidelines see the Website for the Web Accessibility Initiative: http://www.w3.org/WAI 7j. Kornblum (14 October 1998), "Study: Tech gender gap widening," CNET News.Corn, available at: http://www.news.com/News/Item/0,4,27550,O0 .html?st.ne.ni.lh 8 "Why Girls Don't Compute," by Kendra Mayfield, Wired News (29 December 2000): http://www.wirEd.com/news/culture/0,1284, 35654,00.html 9 For more information see the Women in Technology home page at: http://www.iwt.org ~0 A. Borg (March 1999). "Expanding the Pipeline: Models for Innovation Bring Women to the Table." Computing Research News, p. 2. ~ The home page for Women in Technology International is: http://www.witi.com/index-c.shtml Review for Religious ¯ ,2 This site; "Some Freqtiently Asked Questions on SSNs," maintained by Computer Scientists for Social Responsibility, is an excellent source of more information: http://www.cpsr.org/cpsr/privacy/ssn/ssn.faq.html ,3 "Study indicates Internet use changes social patterns," by John Markoff (16 February 2000): http://wwwlkcstar.com/item/pages/home.pat,local /37743 d 15.216,.html 14 One order's attempt to deal with these questions is the report of the Benedictine Internet Commission, a group of Benedictine women and men from around the United States. Their final report, issued on 15 January 1998, is available at: http://www.osb.org/bic/report.html Only to This Don't try to look as though you had no problems. Who doesn't ? Don't try to act as though you had it all together. Who does ? Don't think that you cannot be defeated. You can be crushed. Only to this must you witness. That in your problems God is there. That in falling apart you are held together. That in being crushed you are already being raised up again. As the crushed grape yields fine wine, and the crushed olive yields rich oil, so does your body yield, and does its yield give life. Paul N. Duckro May-June 2001 ROBERT P. MALONEY Authenticity and Contact with Youth religious life I love this little verse from Isaiah:"Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear" (50:4-5). God is always try-ing to communicate with us. The Scriptures' powerful words and life's dramatic events seek contnually to rouse us from our distractedness, but often, as Isaiah laments, "hearing we do not hear." The whole New Testament, very mindful of Isaiah's words, is a trumpet call to conversion. The good news begins with a herald's cry in the desert: "Change your way of life. Prepare the way of the Lord." And when John the Baptist presents Jesus as the central figure on the New Testament stage, Jesus' message is simple and clear: "This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Reform your lives and believe in the good news!" (Mk 1:15). Religioiis, first in their baptism and later in their vocational option, commit themselves to the conversion process of which the gospels speak. But this call to be a new creation is continual. It comes at every stage in our development. It says: Change your way of life now. As Karl Rahner once wrote, "none of us can enter the king- Robert P. Maloney CM, superior gene~,al of the Congre-gation of the Mission, writes again from Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious dom of God as we are." To narrow down this broad topic drasti-cally, I describe in this article one way of constant conversion, that proposed by Vincent de Paul. I analyze it briefly in terms derived from Be/nard Lonergan and then draw a few practical conclusions. Hunger for Truth as Constant Conversion Vincent de Paul wrote to his friend Franqois du Coudray on 6 November 1634: "Simplicity is the virtue I love most" (SV I, 284).1 Almost twenty years later he said to the Daughters of Charity, "I call it my gospel" (SV Ix, 606). Just a year before he died, he told the members of the Congregation of the Mission that everyone loves those who are authentic, whose words match what is in their hearts and whose actions match their words (SV XII, 171). Vincent proposed this "way" to the many groups he founded. It is clearly the virtue he loved most. Today we give simplicity many names: genuineness, sincerity, transparency, integrity, authenticity, hunger or thirst or passion for the truth. I suggest that simplicity is a path of continual con-version. This conversion manifests itself in: ¯ listening for the truth, searching for it humbly as a wayfarer rather than thinking to possess it as an owner; ° speaking the truth (a difficult disci-pline, especially when one's own convenience is at stake or when the truth is embarrassing); ¯ witnessing to the truth, or the personal authenticity whereby one's life matches one's words; ¯ practicing the truth through works of justice and charity; ¯ striving for sin-gle- minded truth, or purity of ihtention; ° living truthfully as a servant of the poor, having modest possessions and sharing what one has; ° expressing the truth clearly, using attractive, transpar-ent language, especially in teaching or preaching. The Asceticism of Authenticity Simplicity or authenticity is impossible without asceticism. The path of simplicity requires a long-sustained exercis~ of atten-tiveness, understanding, reasonableness, and responsibility. Authenticity, in other words, rests on a positive response to what Bernard Lonergan calls "four transcendental precepts": (I) be attentive, (2) seek to understand, (3) be reasonable, (4) be respon-sible. Attentive people observe precisely what is going on. Understanding people search out the meaning of what they see May-June 2001 Malone2/ ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth Drifting is the contemporary form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot." and hear. Reasonable people formulate possible changes for the better. And responsible people weigh in the balance their short-and long-term advantages and disadvantages, and then choose. On the path that lies between inauthenticity and authentic-ity, there are two great dangers. The first danger to authenticity is bias. All of us have individual biases. They are self-deceptions that we create to protect ourselves or make us feel ¯ more secure. Others often see them in us much more quickly than we do: prejudices, labeling of others as liberals or conservatives, comfortable but unexamined choices, unchangeable patterns of behavior. One of the commonest individual biases I know in com-munity life is intolerance of differing pastoral approaches. Group bias is more subtle. We do not eas-ily identify it, because we share it with those around us. But it is very dangerous. It gives rise to unjust laws, persecutions, wars, abuse of others because of their race, sex, ethnic ori-gin, or religion. In clerical circles there still are strong group prejudices against women. These are especially striking in many European countries, in Africa, and in Asia, but they are found almost everywhere. Common bias is the most difficult of all to discern. It exists not just in individuals and particular groups; just about everyone suf-fers from it. It comes from looking at life in ways that no one reflects about and almost no one perceives as quite unacceptable. For centuries most people, Chris6ans included, regarded slavery as licit. Most of us live and die with common biases, without ever recognizing them. Prophetic voices attempt from time to time to shock us out of them. I am sorry that I cannot point out today's common biases, because, being afflicted with thgm, I am blind to them myself. But I am sure that someday people will shake their heads about us and our blithe assumptions, and ask, "How could they have thought that?" Whht are my biases? The second great danger is drifting. People who have entered the vowed life seldom deliberately choose to be inauthentic. In the contemporary world the great danger is that they might not deliberately choose anything at all. Drifting is the contemporary Review for Religious form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot" (Rv 3:15). Drifters find themselves .incapable of moving resolutely toward authenticity. They skip across surfaces, never listening attentively, not searching out life's meaning, unalert for the right path or unwilling to choose it firmly. Do I drift? Levels of Conversion The quest for authenticity and the overcoming of our biases involves conversion on three levels. 1. Intellectual conversion. Staying aliveintellectually is crucial. I am not referring here to abstract, theoretical, high-flying intel-lectual voyages. No, I mean that we nourish our minds; that we read and reflect critically; that, when we ponder the word of God, we apply the four transcendental principles. Be attentive: hear what it is saying. Search out its meaning: understand it in the light of good commentators. Be reasonable: formulate what it may be asking of us. Be responsible: decide and act on the word. The focus of intellectual conversion is the true. 2. Moral conversion. The key to moral conversion is a change in the criterion for our choices, from personal satisfaction to val-ues. It is crucial in life that we decide what our key values are-- something drifters never do--and that we make them the basis of our judgments. The focus of moral conversion is the good. 3. Religious conversion. In religious conversion we are grasped by an ultimate concern. We surrender ourselves to God. Genuine religious conversion is pure grace. It is,not that we grasp God; God grasps us. The focus of i-eligious conversion is the holy. In each of these stages, we make choices and tfltimately our choices make us. We become what we choose. When we choose the true, we become true. When we choose the good, we become good. When we choose to allow the holy to possess us, we become holy. Am I in the process of being intellectually, morally, and reli-giously converted? Toward Being a New Creation Sixty-four percent of the world's population is under twenty-five years of age. These young people are the hope of the future. They are the future. Authenticity is immensely attractive to them. 2Ylay-June 2001 ¯ " Maloney ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth They yearn for the truth, hungering for it and rejecting what they consider its bogus forms. Let me suggest some specific ways in Which religious as indi-viduals and as communities can become more authentic. I am convinced that these will be of immense help in our efforts to reach out to the young. These are my dreams for all of us: ¯ My dream: that we become families that pray mightily and beautifully. I start with an aspe.ct of religious conversion. Do people say of our communities, "They really know how to pray"? People surely know many religious communities for their works. When posing this question to the Vincentian family, I put it this way: "The name Vincent de Paul is synonymous with works of practical charity. But do people also see us as a group that is deeply committed to prayer? Do the young people who come among us feel attracted by experiencing how we pray? Vincent himself was an extraordinary pray-er. His contemporaries readily recognized him as a contem-plative in action. He placed great emphasis on mentai prayer, on attuning ourselves to the rhythm of the church's liturgical life, and on celebrating it beautifully." My hope is that religious can support one another in medi-tating daily and fruitfully and that their common liturgical prayer will be "something beautiful for God" and attractive to the young. Do young people feel at home praying with us? Does our prayer ring true to them? ¯ My dream: that we create formation programs for the young. I hope that we can be masters and guides in the spiritual jour-ney. It is most important that we ourselves be rooted authenti-cally and experientially in the mystery of God's love if we wish to help young people share deeply in that same mystery. The mis-sion of the church is, after all, to announce this mystery joyfully. Formation is crucial for helping young people know and feel the good news that God is alive, that he lives within us, that he wbrks among us, and that he has a special love for the poor. Good formation demands hard work, creativity, the preparation of attrac-tive materials, and the dissemination of these materials far and wide to thousands and millions of young people who hunger for the truth. In the schools, parishes, and social centers where many reli-gious serve, have we created effective formation programs for Re~iew for Religqous young people? Have we developed a pedagogy of the experience of God? Can we communicate to the young our passion for truth and accompany them in their longing to be true? ¯ My dream: that we form youth groups and offer young people the opportunity to join in the service of the poor. ¯ Is there any sector of society that Pope John Paul II has focused on more clearly than youth? Today everyone talks about the new millennium. Young people are the third millennium. It belongs to them. If the Church is to be fully alive in this millennium, it will be because it is energized by young people who believe deeply. The young are the future evangelizers of the world and servants of the poor. Most religious active today will scarcely cross the threshold of the third millennium. If statistics hold true, I will not survive its sec-ond decade. But today's young people will be alive and full of energy long after that. And so I suggest that there is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach. out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. We have a wonderful gift to offer them. We must bring it to them joyfully and generously. The presence of two million young peo-ple at World Youth Day in Rome last August was striking. Are we actively engaged in form-ing youth groups? Is the truth of our religious charism so important to us that we are eager to share it with them? ¯ My dream: that we offer the young the opportunity to serve in other countries. We live in the global community. Today events everywhere in the world affect us quickly. If the yen is weak, the New York stock market dives. If there is violent trouble in Central America, the number of undocumented people in Los Angeles increases. I urge religious to help young people to see the .plight of the poor throughout the world. Almost four centuries ago, when it was alto-gether common for young and old to die within five miles of their birthplace, Vincent de Paul established lay groups and two inter-national communities of priests, brothers, and sisters that spread quickly from France to Poland, Italy, Alge.ria, Madagascar, Ireland, Scotland, the Hebrides, and the Orkneys. There is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. May-June 2001 Maloney * Authenticity and Contact with Youth Do we offer young people the opportunity for commitments of two, three, four, five years in foreign missions? Do we encour-age them to be true to their inner desires in palpable ways, to be free to extend themselves, to take risks, to make temporary com-mitments and even permanent ones? Does the truth of our mis-sionary vocation so burn in our hearts that it carries over to others, brightening, w.arming, building a fire in them as well? In the mid 19th century, Henry David Thoreau went off into the woods and lived fo~: two yea~s more or less as a hermit a~ Walden Pond. It was a time of conversion for him, an intense period in which he sought meaning in his life. One day last sum-mer I visited Walden Pond, walked around its perimeter, and took a swim. In the evening I picked up Thoreau's famous book and read the words that he wrote when he returned to society after two years of searching: I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a suc-cess unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass aia invisible boundary; . . . and he will live with the liberty of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. How can we help young people dream dreams of the king-dom of God and build the foundations that will make those dreams come true? How can we communicate to greater numbers Of them a passion for the truth, a passion for the person of Jesus, a pas-sion for justice, a passion for the poor? Passion in its root sense includes suffering--can we help young people to be willing even to suffer for the truth they believe in? Note 1 SV refers to the fourteen-volume French edition of St. Vincent de Paul's works, edited by Pierre Coste (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925). Review for Religious KATHY DUNNE Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Ibt was a breezy, hot summer day in 1958. I was sitting on the ack steps of our suburban Long Island home with my friend Linda. We were both about six or seven years old. My morn had just made cupcakes, but told us we could not have any until after ¯ dinner that evening. Linda and I were discussing the merits of "snitching" a cupcake when my mom was not looking. I held that it would be stealing because they did not belong to us. Since this would be a mortal sin in our° theological framework, I did not think this was such a good idea. I did not want to die that night and go to hell! Linda, more practical-minded, said she thought it would only be a sin of disobedience since my mom said we could not have one until later. That would only be a venial sin! Since my mom stayed in the kitchen, we did not have a chance to take the cupcake. As I reflect on that event, I see that our notion of obedience was rudimentary. We lacked maturity, of. course, and our moral framework was that of young children. After many years of growth in discipleship and in my religious vocation, I found myself with a deeper understanding of the vow of obedience. Obedience means more than acquiescing to external authority; it is a more mature, discerning stance that includes inner authority within the context of community, the church, and the world. Kathy Dunne RC is a spiritual director and works with her commu-nity's affiliates. She wrote "The Still Point" for our issue of January- February 1999. Her address is Cenacle Retreat House; P.O. Box 8115; Metairie, Louisiafia 70011. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue This article looks at obedience as an evangelical counsel, lived as vow andvirtue. It approaches obedience from three perspec-tives: the scriptural, especially as seen in Jesus' relationship with the One he called Abba; that of religious life today; and that of con-temporary spirituality, that is, living the Spirit of the Gospels in one's life. Obedience, which comes from the Latin audire, means to lis-ten or to hear. In The New Catholic Dictionary of Spirituality, obe-dience is defined as "receiv!ng and responding appropriately to a message--or Word--from God.''l Jesus Christ, in his fidelity to his Abba (his Father), is the model par excellence of this obedience. Jesus lived in a deep relationship with his Father, modeling for us what intimacy means. Jesus' life of deep prayer, listening, and response to his Abba lies at the heart of obedience. The Scriptures tell us that by his obedience Christ was able to "reconcile all things to himself." In a world fractured by sin and division, Jesus shows us how to be at one with God, with each other, and with the whole cosmos. We are called to obedience in the deepest recesses of our being. We are invited back to primal unity and original innocence. By reconciling all things and all people in Christ Jesus, God invites us back to what life was like before original sin. This original unity models love, inclusivity, respect, reverence, mutuality, and care of the ea~'th and all living things. It is nonabusive and "does not rejoice in the wrong but rejoices in the truth" (1 Co 13:6); there "is ntither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, for all are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Original Sin Original sin, the sin of fundamental disobedience, echoes Lucifer's "I will not serve." It prevents us from accepting and liv-ing the truth of who we are given to be. It blinds us from seeing with the eyes of Christ. Unable to see clearly, we live in a fog or mist of confusion, contradiction, and rationalization. We are often unaware of the needs of those around us. We justify our thoughts, attitudes, and behavior in the name of expediency. We participate, often without realizing it, in the escalating violence and destruc-tion that affect all persons and all creation. We do this by our presence and by our silence. This happens in personal and in struc-tural acts of sin. By our acts of commission and omission, we are Review for Religious involved both in petty acts of selfishness and in the much larger realms of evil, including prejudice, racism, and sexism. We are called, as Christians and particularly as religious, to stand against this fundamental disobedience. We are called to be in harmony and in relationship with all of creation, with one another, and with Christ in God. Obedience is not easy, nor is it an escape from discerning what God asks of us each day. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, "There is no cheap grace." Neither is there cheap obedience. Obedience does not give license to opt out of personal or communal responsibility. Rather, obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. For many of us that relationship is also mediated through the church and the profession of religious vows. But, primarily and before any type of mediated relationship, we are called to be disciples. Discipleship is the call to be learners, to stand before God with, in, and through Jesus Christ as persons who desire to do God's will and beg for the grace of actually doing it in all the circumstances of life. Obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. Seeking the Will of God There are various ways of seeing the will of God. Some see it to be preset or preplanned, a blueprint thatlone just has to dis-cover in order to be obedient. Others consider it as unfolding in the events of daily life. Some experience God's will as some com-bination of the two. Perhaps another way to see its essential nature is to look at Jesus and his relationship with the One he called Abba. John's Gospel in particular stresses this relationship: "I always do what pleases him"; "I have come not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me"; "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 6 and 14:10). Jesus' obedience hinges on this relationship with his Abba. It is not a driven or mechanical relationship. It is a matter of love and deep passion that God's dream for our world will come to fruition. This type of union flourished with Adam and Eve, as God walked in the garden with them in the cool of the evening. When Adam May-ffune 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue and Eve ate of the fruit of the tree of good and evil, their eyes were opened. They lost their primal innocence. The Evil One said they would become like gods. Instead, they lost their innocence and were removed from the gard.en (Gn 3:1-19). Jesus, in the words of the Easter Proclamation, "restores lost innocence." The innocence and candor of little children are often spoken of as a kind of na'ivet~. As we experience more of life, we lose that innocence and na~'vetd. Disillusion and disappointment contribute to this loss. As we grow in the spiritual life, studying and reflecting on experience, we may come to what Paul Ricoeur calls 'the second na~'vetd, a kind of innocence that is far from na~'ve. Jesus grew in "wisdom and age and grace"; he taught us by his living, his dying, and his rising what obedient living and loving are about. He models for us the innocence that can be restored in us by obe-dience, by being in relationship with God, from whom all things come and to whom all things return.2 Christ's obedience was part of his relationship of love with his Abba. Deep love of God includes deep interior freedom. Such freedom is not a license to follow our inclinations and impulses into unregulated attitudes and behaviors. Rather, such interior freedom seeks to discover what God is asking in each situation or event of our life. There is no plan that anticipates exactly what to do in any eventuality, but there are general guidelines. The teach-ing of the church, refined by centuries of gospel living and of seek-ing and finding what works best as circumstances change, provides a major guideline. The Scriptures provide another. Individual con-science, our culture, and the mores of our country and society also provide guidance. But none of these is enough by itself. The way God leads us within and sometimes beyond these guidelines must be discerned. Some people are ~alled to be prophets and to challenge the status quo. Some, called to be prophets of justice, challenge church " and society teachings on the roles of women, of minorities, of the poor and dispossessed of our world. Others are contemplatives and mystics, women and men who remind us that, without deep and sustained prayer born of a desire to respond to a loving.God, all our work is for nothing. All must listen to the "still small voice" (1 K 19:12) within in order to be obedient to the call which God gives each of us for building up the reign of God. Paul tells us that there is one Spirit but many gifts for the building up of the kingdom. Some are called to be teachers, some Review for Religious prophets, some administrators; some to speak in tongues and some to interpret the tongues (1 Co 12:4-10). Paul tells us that now we know in part and see in part, but then we shall see face to face. He tells us that all other gifts will disappear, that prophecies will be no more, but that faith, hope, and love remain and that the greatest of these is love (1 Co 13:8-13). Call to Love This call to love, to a growing union and familiarity with God and the things of God, is central to the vow and virtue of obedi-ence. Obedience does not mean going "against the grain" in a mechanical way. Rather, it is a delicate dance in which our choices--our ways of being, thinking, and doing--are gradually transformed. We are gentled, so to speak, discovering the strength that comes from God and not from self. Disciples move from exte-rior conformity to inner listening, listening for what Jesus, the Beloved, would have us do. The hours of prayer that we spend overflow into our life, and the events of our life also lead us to God. We become familiar with God's heart and desire God's mercy and justice for all people everywhere and always. Our heart expands to embrace all and thus grows in compassion. The vow can become virtue. Our growing interior freedom lets go of all that is not God, desiring only God and that which God desires. As disciples we let go of compulsions and addictions, sometimes with the help of support groups, ther-apy, spiritual direction, and study, but always with prayer. Over many years we let go of habits, even preferences for doing things a certain way. Fundamental desires are transformed. We now desire the truth and integrity of heart that come from the interior action of the Holy Spirit. We become obedient out of a growing desire to mirror God's trinitarian love in our life. How do we get to where God's nature becomes ours, where it is second nature for us to make decisions--and actually to live-- as God dreams for us? First, baptism gives us the basic operating system of the Christian life. Through years of praying and study-ing the Scriptures, we come to know Jesus Christ ever more deeply. The church's teaching in all areas, particularly justice and mercy, guides our learning and our praying. We grow in our willingness to be open to all of that teaching--and not just what is convenient or feels good. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue In addition, we learn as religious the Rule and constitutions of our particular institute. We move from the externals of the vow of obedience to an inner disposition. We begin to find our own way within the congregation and the church. Our particular talents and learned skills come to light and eventually to fruition. We ¯ learn to use these gifts generously and, when we can, to encourage others to grow in discipleship. Over time the vow gradually becomes virtue. No one can map this out for another in exact detail. What a guide can do is listen with us for the signs of how God is at work and suggest ways to cooperate more fully with God. As we let go of less-than-produc-tive ways of being and doing, we gradually find that, much as Jesus did, we grow in age, grace, and wisdom. Ingrained habits give way to the desires and habits of God. We come to desire love, the unity of all persons and all things in God. As disciples we find ourselves fulfilling our living and loving desires in the concrete actions of daily life~ We find that we must live the gospel radically if we are to be faithful. All that life asks must be integrated in an incarna-tional way with the demands and challenges of the gospel, or we live in vain. Living Obediently How do disciples live this challenge? We pray and we act. We act and we pray. There is really no other way. We do not live iso-lated on our own island. A survival-of-the-fittest mentality does not rule our life. Rather, we cooperate with each day's graces and meet each day's challenges. A living obedience to the demands made each day and a willingness to embrace all that life asks call us to greater fidelity. Just as Jesus' love and mission were not only for the Jewish people of 1 st-century Palestine,' the call to obedience is not limited to "my family, . my community," and "my country." As Jesus' mission was for all people and for all time, so obedience embraces all and thus becomes universal. We are called to be compa?sionate with all people who suf-fer, who are poor, excluded, and marginalized. This demands a range of vision impossible without profound grace. We are so con-ditioned to "get ours" or do things our own way that it takes the wide-angle lens of the gospel and of the church's social teaching, accompanied by much prayer and meditation on these documents, to move beyond our myopic viewpoint. We are called by obedience Review for Religious to embrace all and to include all, not just in an intellectual way but in our loving, our praying, and our acting. We have to think globally even as we act locally. The way we do this is unique to each of us and must be dis-cerned. But act we must, or our religion is in vain. But our activ-ity must not be a mere "clanging cymbal" (1 Co 13:1). We must be, like John the Baptist, "a voice crying in the wilderness" (Mt 3:3) or, like Paul, one who proclaims the gospel "in season and out of sea-son" (2 Tm 4:2). We will not be popular, and we may indeed be martyred--if not by stoning or crucifixion, at least by rejection and hurtful words. Nonetheless, we are called to be like Jesus Christ, who "was crucified for our sakes" (1 Co 15:3). If Jesus Christ suffered and died for what he believed and proclaimed, so shall we. We are like the one we Wofess to follow. Obedient love demands such life and response from us. We know that death is not the end of the story. Jesus was raised to new life. We too will rise, not only on the last day, but each time we die to ourselves and surrender ourselves to our good God. The Scriptures tell us that God will not be outdone in gen-erosity. A generous and obedient heart leads us deeper into God's own heart and calls us forth to minister and to love as Jesus did. As we continue .to die to ourselves each day, we are raised up. As we grow in the vow and virtue of obedience, we see our wdrld with God's eyes and with God's heart. But, because we are human beings and not God, we act accordingly. We make mis-takes. We learn, however, to forgive others and ourselves because God has first forgiven us. We forgive and are gentle because that is the very nature of love and the heart of obedience. Able to laugh at ourselves, we do not take ourselves too seriously. This is, after all, God's world and God's creation. The Potter asks only for our cooperation, that we let go of control. Like Jesus, we are in rela-tionship with our Abba/Amma, our Father/Mother God. We are in an interdependent relationship with God, sharing mutually the fruit of otir love and our labor:3 God is as dependent on us as we are on God in this relationship. As we grow in the ways of God, we become ever more fully ourselves. We rejoice because we are one with the God we love and with all whom God loves. Through the vow and the virtue, we are obedient in heart and spirit. We rejoice in the truth. We live simply and we live radically because we live with Christ, through him and for him who is before all else that is. We are his, and he May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtu~ is ours. We are in relationship and in love. We are obedient. Notes L Richard M. Fragomeni, "Obedience," The New Catholic Dktionary of Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 709. 2 See St: Boflaventure, "Contemplating the Divine Unity through Its Primary Name Which Is Being," in Bonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, The Tree of Life, The Life of St. Francis, trans. Ewert Cousins, Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 94-101. 3 See David Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," §§230-234. Suggested Readings Foley, John B., SJ. "Stepping into the River: Reflections on the Vows." Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 26, no. 4 (September 1994). Langan, John P., sJ, "The Good of Obedience in a Culture of Autonomy," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 32, no. 1 (January 2000). Rolheiser, Ronald, OMI. Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. Schneiders, Sandra, IHM. New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1986. --. Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. "Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities." Review for Religious 59, no. 5 (September-October 2000): 526-536. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Complete text of A Spirituality for ContemPorary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Muetler s J, Walter Burghardt S J, David Fleming s J, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino S J, Elizabeth Johnson CSJ, and John W. Padberg sJ ° ¯ An ARCHIVES section containing indices, abstracts, and summaries of our iournal articles from January-Februau 1995 to the current issue VISIT US AT: http://www.reviewforreligious.org Review for Religious WILLIAM C." ZEHRINGER Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage '~md where is this inaccessible light, or how can I approach the inaccessible light? Or who shall lead me and take me into it that I may see you in it?" So wrote St. Anselm in his Proslogion at the end of the 11th cen-tury. A lifelong searcher for that divine light was Mechthild of Magdeburg (ca. 1212-ca. 1282), one of the greatest women mystics of the Middle Ages. The ardu-ous and triumphantly successful spiritual pilgrimage of that remarkable woman is recorded in her enduring book, Das Fliessende Licht der Gottheit (The Flowing Light of the Godhead), the first mystical work to have been composed in the author's native language, and a book which "defies genre conventions.''~ So, it might be added, does her life in religion. Mechthild is unique among the female mystics of her time and place, both for the changes that took place in the form of her vocation throughout a long life and for the distances that she traveled before finding, at the last, her soul's rest. "My body," wrote Mechthild early in her Flowing Light, "is in great torment, my soul is in sublime bliss; for William C. Zehringer, a medievalist and free-lance author, received his doctorate from Temple University. His publi-cations include a college writing textbook; this article is adapted from a chapter of a book in progress. His address is 364 E. Second Street; Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania 17815. May-June 2001 heritages Zehringer * Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage she has both gazed upon and embraced her Lover in her arms."2 These words summarize her turbulent life, for she long endured both ill health and afflictions from her adversaries, while also expe-rienci. ng deep consolations within her soul. As Emilie zum Brunn and Georgette Epiney-Burgard say, "The return of the soul to its original being in G6d--that is what motivates her desire."3 The revelations and sublime insights of The Flowing Light, which she worked on until the end of her life, won her, in her later years, a devoted following among the wisest of her contempo-raries. These included Meister Eckhart and the h01y nuns ofthe convent of Helfta.4.What.was the source of her appeal to these far-seeing men and women? Perhaps one may attribute it, and the hardy endurance of her single mystical.work through centuries of studied neglect, to the potent force of her convictions and the power of her expression in her'native language. Mechthild's book is remarkable in the way the clarity of her vision emerges from the diverse forms of expression she employs, from prayer to exhortation. Carol Lee Flinders has said, "The over-all coherence of the work derives not so much from formal qualities as from a consistency in preoccupation of the kind that knits together a collection of lyric poetry.''5 This all-consuming preoc-cupation is best told in her own impassioned words: "Then she soars further to a blissful place," and, "when infinite God brings the unfathomable soul to the heights, she loses sight of the earth in her astonishment and is not aware of ever having been on earth" (41).6 These and other startling paradoxes which the saint finds in her soul as she approaches the Sacred Presence are a proof of her lifelong (and ultimately successful) attempt to spiritualize her deep and abiding suffering. But they are also her wayof explaining the experiences which she took pains to have recorded, for the edifi-cation of her fellow Christians. The movifig story of her spiritual pilgrimage is above all a lesson in the way all searchers for.the Source of light and love must chart their courses. As Pierre Teilhard de Chardin so memorably wrote, "Union ir~creases only through an increase in consciousness, that is to say, in vision. And that, doubtless, is why the history of the living world can be sum-marized as the elaboration of ever more perfect eyes within a cos-mos in which there is always something more to be seen.''7 These words apply well to Mechthild's life. And a stirring picture of the price of such vision may be found in "The Lament of the Loving Soul" (Flowing Light, Book 2, ~hap. 25): "Oh, you infinite glory Review for Religious in the power of your nobility! How painfully I long for you when you want to spare me" (92). If one searched The Flowing Light for momentous earthly events, one would bE disappointed, but, read as a narrative of Mechthild's interior journey, the book describes vividly her cease-less hunger for heaven's heights,s It was often the depths of the human spirit that this sen-sitive soul traversed. Mechthild knew darkness and periods of dryness. Albert Camus, that pellu-cid and unresting agnostic searcher, has declared: ~"There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.''9 But passages such as the one quoted above also bear witness to another cause of Mechthild's suf-fering: the unjust criticism that was hurled at her by clerical authori.ty when she denounced the vices that flourished in the church of her time. As Michael Novak wisely observed, "the experiences whence language about God springs--freedom, honesty, community, and courage--abut on pol-itics. They will not be contained.''1° In Mechthild's life they were not contained, any more than they were in the lives of Hildegard of Bingen, Birgitta of Sweden, or Catherine of Siena. Here is her heartfelt summary of her interior and exterior afflictions (Book 3, chap. 5, "How the Soul Laments that It Cannot Hear Mass or the Daily Offices"): "Ah,' dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upon these words in joy. For I constantly notice with anguish the stench of that dead mongrel, my body; and I, Lord, when I consider the matter, have no idea how things shall turn out for me in the end. What is more, just beholding you I lose all awareness of suffering" (112). The words that I have italicized are as characteristic of Mechthild's spiritual life as are the laments that precede them. How could they not be? For all true mystics believe that an essen-tial task of souls who ha(,e answered the call to holiness is to show a sorely burdened humankind how to avoid the paths that lead to One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. May-June 2001 Zebringer ¯ Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage despair.~1 And they most surely accomplish this by relating their own ascent past slippery edge,s,tz One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. There is more light than darkness to be found in The Flowing Light of the Godhead. Mechthild's active compassion and love for the suffering poor as a beguine in Magdeburg is al~other aspect of her spiritual voca-tion. She carried the interior joys of her heart to a world that needed them as surely as ours does. Father Odo Egres called her an angel of mercy who "gave love and consolation to those who in their misery looked for a ray of hope."'3 Her life, then, was not given ?ver completely to serene med-itation on the divine mysteries. The practice of prophetic speech that led to charges of heresy and hard missiles of condemnation was one to which she felt compelled by God's command. In Book 4, chapter 24, she calls her fellow pilgrims to carry out the duties of their state of life so that they find at the end that "God crowns three kinds of people with his fatherly hands: virgins, widows, and married people" (168). Not surwisingly, than, does Caroline Walker Bynum find that "Mechthild of Magdeburg sees herself as a teacher, counselor,'and mediator." 14 But there is another dimension to that part of her life when she lived as a mystic in the world. Mechthild is also a fine poet of the spiritual life and of mystical marriage with her Lord. Bea.uty and pictorial splendor are characteristics of her later work. Lucy Menzies, a 1953 editor of Mechthild's book, says, "Thehuman passion of the younger years gradually gives place to the mature spiritual poise of the late period, when like an eagle 'she soars up to gaze into the face of God.'''is That is a valid judgment, for the knowledge that she was advancing toward her lifelong goal, union with Divine Love and Truth, came steadily to the saint as she con-tinued to labor and pray. Perhaps that is why there is a joining, in her earlier visions, of what seem at first to be opposed ideas (as in the words quoted above: "Dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upoh these'words in joy"). These most likely represent, at one and the same time, Mechthild's unsettled response to the overpowering presence of her Savior, her consciousness of sin,.and her aching desire for bliss. Peter Dronke speaks perceptively of"Mechthild's anguished evo-cations of the 'fatal' quality of her love. For all its torments, she Review for Religious cannot help her longing--it is her destiny to sing of love through pain, like the nightingale." 16 And yet, in some of the later por-tions of The Flowing Light, there are harmonious images that sup-port an assured and serene conclusion. In Book 5, chapter 22, "The Seven Things of Judgment," Mechthild proclaims that "the greatest delight in doing comes from keeping one's integrity in all that one does" (196). A beautiful and unique feature of her book is the intense response of the Lord to her plaintive pleas for a surcease from suffering. Divine speech (as in Book 2, chapter 25) is expressed in ¯ cumulative phrases that pierce the heart: Your secret sighs shall reach me. Your heart's anguish can compel me. Your sweet pursuit shall so exhaust me That I shall yearn to cool myself In your limpid soul, To which I have b

Issue 9.2 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; MARGH° 15, 1950 Diocesan or PonHfical ? 'Joseph F. Galle. 'Virtue of Faith . John M~hews Oh'Controversy . ~. Gera[~Kelly Works:of God Manifest . .Dominic Hughes (;)uesHons and Answers Book Reviews Communications Report to Rome VOLUME IX NUMBER 2 Ri::VII::W FOR RI:::LI IOUS VOLUME IX MARCH, 1950 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL ?--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 57 THE VIRTUE OF FAITH IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE-- John Matthews, S.J . 69 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 72 ON CONTROVERSY~ (An Editorial)--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 73 SEARCHLIGHTING ~URSELVES . 77 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST--Dominic Hughes, O.P. . 78 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY . 91 COMMUNICATIONS . 95 SUMMER SESSION . 96 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Mother of the Savior and Our Interior Life; Ignatlan Methods of Prayer; Little Catechism of Prayer . ~ . 97 BOOK NOTICES . " . 100 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 101 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Abandoned Wife Entering Religion . 104 8. Extending Postulancy, Novitiate, etc . 105 9. Postulancy outside Novitiate . 106 I0. Dowry When Transferring to Contemplative Order . 106 11. Sick Religious and Daily Communion . 107 12. Genuflections in,Chapel . 108 REPORT TO ROME . 108 THOUGHTS ON ST. JOSEPH . 112 IN MEMORIAM (Alf'red F. Schneider, S.J.) . 1 12 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1950. Vol. IX, No. 2. 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 the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly. 8.J. Copyright, 1950, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrltln9 to us, please cons,,It notice on Inside back cover. Diocesan or Pont:ific l? ¯Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THE following pages constitute ~in effqrt to answer two practical canonical' questions: (1) should a diocesan congregation "Con-fine' itself to the diocese of origin? (2) should a' diocesa'n congregation become pontifical? These are very. important questions for many institutes. They are also questions to which angwers can. be given that are based solely on personal knowledge and espe'ciallT on personal preference. Such knowledge can be inadequate and the preference can be very subjective. Therefore, I l~ave tried to avoid mere.personal opinion and to base the answers primarily on the mind and 'v~ill of the Holy See and secondarily on the opinions that com-monly exist in the Church as found in approved authors. ~" I. DiSti~'~tion of Defi'nition between a Pontifical and a "" Diocesan Congregatiqn~ . . :,~., It is by no means unusual to encounter the mistaken opiniqfi.th, a~ a, diocesan religious institute is one that. is confined to a particul.ar. diocese and a pontifical institute one that has houses in seve.ral di0,- ceses. These false definitions are deafly excluded by canon 488, 3°: "'institute app~ou.ed bg the Hqlg See. (Religio iuris pontifical), ~every institute which has obtained from. the Apostolic S~e either ~p~r.o.-'.~ ba~ion'~o~'i.a.t, leas.t.the decree of commendation (decretur~,'l~udis)t;i Diocesan Institute, an institute erected by Ordinaries, which ~has ~not y~.t:.o."bthined this" decre~ ofcommendation.". Thu's the diStinCtiOn between a pontifical and a diocesan congregation has in itself nothing Whatever to do with territorial diffusion; it is based sblely on the p~es.ende or'absbnce of approval by the Holy See. We shall see tha~ a diocesan institute is also destined to spread to many dioceses, and d~ffu~ion~ to'. rrian~r diocese~ is only an ordinary, not ari absolfitel prerequisite for obtaifiing papal opproyal. In actual fact there are diocesan;. congregati6ns in the United 'States that haCce spread to several dioceses., It is equally true that some pontifical congregation~ in~thi~ c6dh~ry are confined to one diocese. ~All religious orders are pontifical institutes, since the approbation of 'an order is reserved to the Ho!y See. Ther?fore, institutes such as those of the Carmelite Nuns, Dominican Nuns, Poor Clares, Sacra-mentirie'Nuns, and Visithndines are pontifical. A religi0ds order is 57 JOSEPH F. GA'LLEN Review for Religious ¯ an institute whose particular law pr~scribes that at least some of the subjects at least should take solemn vows (can. 488, 2°). The hope of clarifying this o'ften misunderstood definitio'n is the justificat.for the tautology. It is not required that all of the members of the institute, but it is s~f~cient that only some of these, should either actually take solemn vows or be obliged to do so by the law of the institute. An institute can also be an order even if none of the mem-bers actually take solemn vows. It is sufficient that some should do so from the particular law of the institute.1 Solemn vows are not taken in mo~t of the monasteries of nuns in the United States, yet all of these institutes are orders since at least some of the members should take solemn vows in virtue of the particular law of the institute.2 A religious congregation is an institute in which all the members actually take simple vows, whether perpetual or temporary, and in which none of the members should take solemn vows in virtue of the law of the institute (canon 488, 2°). No religious institute can exist in the Church that has not been approved by legitimate ecclesi-astical authority. The foundation of a religious institute may certai.nly be approved by the Roman Pontiff, but in practice it is approved by the ordinary of the diocese of foundation. This approval of the local ordinary makes the congregation a diocesan institute. ~For example, article 37 of the Constitutions of the Ursuline Nuns of the Congre-gation of Paris, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. reads as follows: "By tight, these vows are solemn vows, as they were so approved by holy Church at the beginning: but, in fact, in this country, by disposition of the Holy See, they are only simple vows." Article 641 of the Constitutions of Dominican Nuns reads: "Those Nuns of our Order whose vows are, by constitution, solemn but who because of circumstances of time (cgn. 488, 70), by prescription of the Apostolic See, make only. simple VOWS . " -°In 1864 the Holy See declared the following monasteries of Visitation Nuns in the United States had solemn vows: Washington, (Georgetown), Baltimore (Roland Park), Mobile, St. Louis, and Kaskaskia. The last-mentioned later united with its daughter community in St. Louis. Mo. Since 1864 the monasteries that follow have received a rescript from the Holy See granting solemn vows. The year of the rescript is put in parentheses. Carmelite Nuns of the Ancient Observance: Allentown (1931): Discalced Carmelite Nuns: Philadelphia (1902, but solemn vows were first taken in 1925), Wheeling (1925), Bettendorf (1949), Louisville (1930), Morristown (1926), Loretto (1932), Rochester (1930), Mobile (1943), New Brunswick (1948): Dominican Nuns: Detroit (1929, Menlo Park (1929), West Springfield, Mass, (1928): Dominican Nuns of the Perpetual Rosary: Buffalo (1944), Camden (1947), Syracuse (1947): Poor Clare Nuns: Cleveland (1946); Franciscan Nuns of the Most Blessed Sacrament: Cleveland (1912), Canton (1925, but solemn vows were first taken in 1950): Nuns of Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament (Spanish speaking) : E1 Paso (1930) : Visita-tion Nuns: Elfindale, Springfield, Mo. (1888). Solemn vows are taken in the Oriental Order of St. Basil the Great. Four other monasteries have applied for solemn vows¯ 58 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR DONTIFICAL? After an initial period of growth the congregation usually peti-tidns the Holy See for papal approval. The attainment of papal approval makes the congregation a pontifical institute. It is sufficient that the Holy See approve either the institute or the constitutions. The present ordinary practice of the Holy See is to approve both. In answer to the first petition of the congregation for papal approval, the Holy See gives its first approval to the" institute by what is called a decree of praise or commendation. At the same time the Holy See gives a temporary and experimental approval to the.constitutions for a determined period of time, which now is usually seven years. At the end of this time the congregation sends another petition to Rome. The Holy See then gives a final approbation to the constitutions and, frequently at least, a definitive approbation to the institute.3 The practice of the Holy See can vary in many matters, and it has varied in the present case of the approval of religious congrega-tions. It is possible to find congregations that have long possessed papal approval and yet discern that the constitutions alone were approved by the Holy See. A doubt could and did arise as to the sufficiency of an approval of the constitutions alone, since the Code definition of a pontifical institute appears to be confined to a decree of~ praise or approbation of the institute. However, the presumption always is that a canon agrees with the pre-'Code law, and Leo XIII had originally defined pontifical institutes as those "in which in addi-tion the sentence of the Roman Pontiff has intervened, either by approval of their laws and statutes or also by the granting of praise or approbation.TM In this definition the approval of the constitu-tions is not only sufficient but apparently primary. All doubt was removed by a reply of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that the Sisters of Mercy, founded by Mother McAuley, were pontifical, whether it was a question of the independent communities or of the unions that had been established with the approval of the Holy See.5 3For the present practice of the Holy See, cf. P. Cosmas Sartori, O.F.M., duris-prudentiae Ecclesiasticae Elernenta (Romae: Pontif. Athenaeum Antonianum, 1946)~ p. 74. 4Leo XIII, Const. "'Conditae a Christo,'" 8 dec. 1900, Codicis luris Canonici Fontes III. p. 562. The same definition is repeated twice in the constitution. Cf., pp. 563, 564. nThis particular reply of Nov. 24, 1925, undoubtedly because of its general import, was published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, XVIII (1926), 14. It can be found in English in Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, pp. 269-270. Valuable commen-taries on the reply have been written by. Maroto, Cornrnentariurn Pro Religiosis, VII (1926), 83-92: and Vermeersch, Periodica, XV (1927), 52-53. To any-one unaware of this reply the distinctive constitutions of the independent com-munities can' cause difficulty as to their pontifical character. 59 .JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review foF Religious The constitutions alone of the Sisters of Mercy were approved by the Holy See in 1841. The same thing is apt to be true of any.congrer gation of religious women approved before 1850, because of the varying practice of the Holy See in approving religious congregations. Therefore, a congregation is made pontifical by any one or m6re of the following.four approvals: approval of the institute by either a decree of praise or of definitive approbation; approval of the con-stitutions either experimentally or finally. To all congregations that have received any one of these approvals are equally applied" the rights, laws, and obligations of pontifical institutes. II. Should a Diocesan Congregation Confine Itself to the Diocese of Origin? 1. The Code of Cation Lau;.--Canon 495, § 1 reads: "A dioce-san religious congregation cannot establish houses in another diocese without the consent of both Ordinaries, namely: the Ordinary of the place where the motherhouse is situated and the Ordinary of' the place where it is desired to make the new foundation, but the Ordi- .nary of the place of delSarture, shall not without a grave reason refuse his, consent." For the first house to be erected by a dlocesan.institt~te in anothe~ diocese, this canon requires the permission not only of the ordinary of~the new house but also of the ordinary of the mother-house. We can s.ee in this law of the Code an implicit affirmation of the closer guardianship, of the greater interest, supervision, and direc-tion that the ordinary of the diocese of origin is to exercise over a diocesan congregation in the early years of its existence. The same canon explicitly forbids the ordinary of the mother? house to refuse permission for the erection of a house in another diocese unless he has not merely a. reasonable or a just reason but a serious reason for the refusal. The .Code of Canon Law, therefore, implicitly states that it is the or~linary thing for a diocesan institute to spr,ead to other dioceses and that this diffusion can be prevented only by reason of a serious obstacle. It cannot be held that thi~ seri-ous obstacle is ordinarily tO be fouiad in diocesan institutes.' If this-were factually tr.ue, there would be little sense in the law of the Code that forbids the ordinary'of the motherhouse to refuse the permissi?n, and the law would rather read: "and the Ordinary of the mother~ house may grant this permission in extraordinary cases.',Y Therefore, the" law 'of the Code is that confinement to one" dioces~ sli'~.uld ble restricted to the early years of the existence-of.a, diocesan dongrega:- fi0n wl~en the institute is a.c.qujri, ng strength rand:.sta,,~:ilit.~.: .~T.h.!.s. 60 March, 1950" DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? period should not be excessively prolonged. Diffusion to other dioceses is a usual prerequisite for obtaining papal approval, but the Holy See stated before the Code of Canon Law that ten or fifteen years from the time of the foun'dation of the first house of theinsti-tute could suffice for the presentation of a petition for papal approval.6 2. Documents of the Holy See.--The Holy See both before and after the Code of Canon Law has issued norms that are to guide the local ordinaries in the erection of new institutes. One of the most important of these norms is that the ordinary, rather than found a n~w congregation, is to invite and admit into his diocese a congrega-tion already approved that has the purpose desired by the ordinary. In speaking of these congregations already approved the Holy See makes no distinction between pontifical and diocesan congregations.) Therefore, the Holy See again positively implies that diocesan insti-tutes are not to be confined to the diocese of origin. 3. Doctrine of authors.--Two authors, Fogliassos and Muzza-relli, 9 have recently made detailed studies into the juridical nature of diocesan congregations. Fogliasso states: "Certainly a diocesan con-gregation, even though it consists of only one house, unlike a mon-astery of nuns, is an organism that bg its verst nature tends to uni-versality . The purpose of the disposition of canon 495, § 1 is to prevent the local ordinary of the motherhouse from impeding the ordered diffusion of a new congregation. This diffusion together with spiritual fruits is required for the granting of a decree of praise. Furthermore, recourse can always be made to the Holy See against the arbitrary opposition of this ordinary. Therefore, the norm of canon 495, § I, while it immediately, furthers the fundamental liberty of a new congregation, which is the attainment of its own increase, paves the way for the congregation to reach the prescribed condition by which, through means of a decree of praise, it may take its place 6Normae Secundum Quas 8. Congr. Episcoporum et Regulariura Procedere Sofet in Approbandis Novis lnstitutis Votorurn Simpliciurn, 28 iun. 1901, n. 9. ~Leo XII][, Const. "'Conditae a Christo,'" § 1, III, C. I. C. Fontes, III, p. 563; Pius X, Motu Propr. "Dei providentis,'" 15 iul. 1906, C. I. C. Fontes, III, p. 675; S. C. de Prop. Fide, Instr., "'De Congregationibus Religiosis lndigenis Condendis,'° 19 mart. 1937, n. 1, AAS XXIX (1937), 276. SAemilius Fogliasso, S.D.B., lntroductio in Vigentem Disciplinara de luridicis Re-lationibus inter Religiones et Ordinarium Loci (Augustae Taur[norum: Schola T}'pographica Salesiana, 1948). 9Fridericus MuzzareIli, S.S.P., Tractatus Canonicus de Congregationibus luris Di-oecesani (Romae: apud Piam Societatem a S. Pau[o Aposto[o, 1943). 61 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious among pontifical institutes.''~° Muzzarelli expresses the same doctrine: "The nature of a diocesan congregation precisely as diocesan is universal only in potency and capacity . . . indeed the mind of "the Holy See with regard to these congregations is not that from their foundation they should be aSso-lutely confined within the boundaries of one diocese. They are rather considered as the first stage, the first phase of juridical et~olution. When this evolution is completed they become pontifical and uni-versal in fact and in law . Hence it generally happens that these congregations become multidiocesan in a short time and l~hus are uni-versal in fact . If the ordinary (of the motherhouse) should refuse his consent, recourse is always open to the Holy See.''11 Father Vidal, S.J., whose eminence as a canonist and years of service as a consultor of various Roman Congregations should qualify him to know the mind and prac.tice of the Holy See, affirms: ". the ordinary of the place of dephrture is forbidden to refuse his " consent except for a serious reason (canon 495, § 1) ; and recourse against an unreasonable refusal would always be open to the Sacred Congregation, which will usually lend a ready ear to such a recourse, unless there is question of an institute that is faring badly and is destined rather for extinction.''x~ The doctrine that a diocesan institute should at least ordinarily spread to other dioceses is held implicitly by many of the authors mentioned below, who teach that diocesan congregations should ¯ become pontifical, since diffusion to other dioceses is in the practice of the Holy See an ordinary prerequisite for obtaining papal approval. 4. Diffusion does not imply separation.--Diffusion to other dioceses is the second phase of the natural growth of a diocesan con-gregation to the juridical maturity of a pontifical congregation. Evidently diffusion does not impiy but excludes separation from the houses of the diocese of origin. Canon 495, § 1 is speaking of the spread of the same institute to other dioceses, not of the erection of. new institutes in other dioceses. The fear of separation, however, can exist. The diffusion of diocesan and even of pontifical congrega-tions to other dioceses of the United States in the last century very frequently was followed by a separation from the houses of the diocese of origin (and the same thing occurred in other countries). ~-0Fogliasso, op. cir., 160-161. The italics in this and subsequent citations are mine. XlMuzzarelli, op. cir., nn. 51, 123. xZWernz-Vidal, Ius Canonicum, III, "De Religiosis,'" n. 61. 62 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL Fortunately, many of these separated congregations have ultimately at least prospered in vocations and in the extent and excellence of their lives and work. These happy consequences have not always been verified. Some of these congregations are still small in number of subjects, and they toil in vain for increase in the rocky territories of few Catholics and few vocations. It would obviously .have been much better if they had remained.united to houses located in dioceses that are more fertile in vocations and also financially. Furthermore, such separations were not of their nature conducive to a progressive improvement in the spiritual and intellectual formation of subjects. These separations may not be effected now without the permission of the Holy See, since the separation would involve at least the erec-tion of a new institute and also the passing of professed religious from one institute to another, both of which require recourse to the Holy See (canons 492, § 1; 632). III. Should a Diocesan Congregation become Pontifical? 1. The Code of Canon Latv.--To Father Arcadio Larra-ona, C.M.F., the present undersecretary of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, we are especially indebted for evolving the answer from the Code of Canon Law. Father Larraona calls attention to the definition in the Code of a diocesan congregation, which is not described as one that has been approved by a local ordinary or as one that does not possess or has not obtained a decree of commendation but as one, "that has not yet (nondum) obtained this decree of com-mendation (canon 488, 3°).'' Thus the very definition of a dioce-san congregation in the Code of Canon Law manifests that it is only in an initial and transitory state and in the first phase of a juridical evolution that is to terminate in the attainment of pontifical approval,la Larraona could have derived the same conclusion from canon 492, § 2. The argument is clearer in the translation of Woywood- Smith, although it can also be d~duced from the Vatican translation. This canon reads: "A diocesan congregation retains that character though it has in the course of time spread to several dioceses, and it remains completely under the jurisdiction of the bishops, until it has obtained from the Holy See approval or, at least, the decree of praise." The Vatican translation of this last and pertinent clause is: "as long as it is without pontifical approval or the decree of commendation." The Code here again does not consider a diocesan congregation to be laLarraona, Cornmentarium Pro Religiosis, II (192 I), 284. 63 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious . in a definitive but only in an initial and temporary state. 2. The initiative of bishops.--The most°manifest testimony of the i.nspiration, encouragement, and support of bishops to diocesan congregations becoming pontifical is the vast number of congr.egations that ha~e been approved by the Holy See. This support of bishops wa~ evident at an early date in the era of pontifical approval of congregations of Sisters. The Provinci.al Council of Avignon, held in 1849, enacted the following norm for the bishops of the province: "That [Sisters] may conform their lives to that prescribed by the rule they have professed and observe their constitutions and praiseworthy customs, that the constitutions also may have a greater authority, the bishops are to take care as' soon as possible that these be approved by the Holy See,. if they have not already been approved.''14 The bishops of the Plenary Council of Latin America, celebrated in 1899, established a similar law: "Since in congregations that have spread into several dioceses and whose constitutions have not as yet been submitted to the examination, correction, and approbation of the Holy See, here and there things have been done in good faith that are contrary to the laws and mind of the Hoist See, we decree that, the prescriptions of law being observed, such congregations which, in the judgment of the bishops, increase and give good expectations to the Church shall submit their statutes to the judgment of and petition the approval of the Holy See.''1~ 3. The doctrine of authors. Especially in this important ques-tion authors are cited primarily to manifest the mind and the will of the Holy See and also to give the answer that is generally held in the Church. Greater attention should clearly be given to the canonists who are acknowledged specialists in the field of canon law for religious. LARRAONA: This author has been engaged since 1920 in writing an exhaustive explanation of the canons on religious in the Cormnentariurn Pro Religiosis. The greatest tribute to his authority is the frequency and respect with which he is generally cited by other authors. Writing of pontifical and diocesan congregations before the Code of Canon Law, he states that diocesan congregations were not considered "as something fixed and stable but as incomplete entities, tending by their nature to juridical perfection, which in the second 14Concilium Provinciae Avenionensis, Collectio Lacensi#, tom. IV, col. 351, n. 2. l~Acta et Decreta Con¢ilii Plenarii Americae Latinae (Roinae: Typis Vaticanis, 1902), n. 324. 64 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? category, that is, in pontifical congregations, alone appeared to be found.''10 This same doctrine, although not with the same urgency, he later applies to diocesan congregations after the Code of Canon Law.17 He likewise affirms: ".-. the constitution of a di6cesan congregation is not very conducive to the internal unity, strength and liberty of diffusion of the institute. The result is that diocesan con-gregations have scarcely begun to evolve and to be diffused when they are borne along almost by their own weight to become pontifical, which corresponds completely to the mind of the Holy See.''~s He styles the diocesan state of a congregation as the novitiate of the insti-tute and says of this novitiate: ". the Sacred Congregation has tended and now tends to surround this [diocesan state] with suffi-cient protection and to affirm it as transitory by representing this state to the eyes of both the bishops and the congregation as a period of probation, which should not be prolonged longer than is necessary to test the spirit and stability of the.congregation and for it to obtain some diffusion. When this test has been surpassed, it is undoubtedly the mind of the Hol~l See that a decree of commendation should be requested.''1° He continues: "Unless congregations become pontifical when they reach the above maturity, experience certainly proves that they can scarcely preserve their unity of spirit, of ministries, and of government. Consequently the.i.r internal force and solidity is almost necessarily exposed to positive dangers, or at least the congre-gation is uselessly hindered and its tendency for diffusion and expan-sion impeded.''u° In another work he reaffirms the same principle: "From the nature of the case a unity of government is scarcely pos-sible if the government itself is practically divided into as many parts as there are dioceses in which the institute has houses.''~ Other passages could be cited from this outstanding author to confirm the doctrine he states above that the diocesan state of a congregation is of its very nature transitory and the mind of the Holy See is that such congregations should seek papal approval after the initial period of probation and diffusion. 16Larraona, 17Larraona, lSLarraona, 10Larraona, 20Larraona, Commentariura Pro Religiosis, I (1920), 137. ibid., II (1921)', 284. ibid., II (1921), 284. ibid., V (1924), 146. ibid., V (1924), 146. ~aLarraona, Acta Congressus luridici Internationalis, IV, "'De Potestate Dorainativa Publica in lure Canon&o," p. 153, nota 17. JOSEPH F: GALLEN Reoieto [or Religious FOGLIASSO22 and. MUZZARELLIz~ accept and assert the doc-trine of Larraona, but the latter adds: ". especially when a con-gregation has spread to distant territories a practical necessity exists of asking for a decree of praise and approval of the con'stitutions from the Holy See, if one wishes to provide for the security, unity, and becoming expansion of the entire institute.''24 BASTIEN, who is a most eminent authority on the canon law for institutes of simple vows, states in the editions of his book pub-lished both before and after the Code of Canon Law: "The condi-tion of a diocesan congregation, as described in the preceding pages, is rather precarious; spread in different dioceses, they are dependent upon various bishops, without a sufficiently strong central authority. No wonder, then, that the. Holg See desires them to leave this initial stage, and exhorts them to present their constitutions [or its ap-proval."~ 5 BATTANDIER, who is of equal authority on institutes of simple vows, states in the same editions of his hook: "But the,dioce-san institute can naturally have the desire to attach itself more closely to the Apostolic See, which will give more authority to its govern-ment, more stability to its laws, and will permit it to be assured of the future.''~° Among the authors who have expressed their opinion less strongly are the following: CREUSEN-ELLIS: "When the new institute shall have devel-oped sufficiently and shall have shown by the test of time the value of its religious spirit and its unity, it may ask of the Holy See a posi-tive approbation.''27 "The Code does not provide for the erection of provinces in an institute which is purely diocesan. When it has arrived at this importance, it should ask for approbation from Rome, which will make its life and its government more autonomous.''2s 22Fogliasso, op. cir., 160-161. Z3Muzzarelli, op. cit., nn. 51, 102. ~4Muzzarelli, op. cir., n. 102. ~SDom Pierre Bastien, O.S.B., Directoire Canonique a l'usage des Congrdgations ~ Voeux Simples (lst edit., 1904, Abbaye de Maredsous), n. 22; (4th edit., 1933. Bruges: Ch. Beyaert), n. 70. The translation is that of D. I. Lanslots, O.S.B., Handbook of Canon Law (New York: Pustet, 1931), n. 19. Lanslot's d!gest is based on Bastien. ~OMgr. Albert Battandier, Guide Canonique Pour Les Constitutions des Instituts Voeux Simples (Paris: Librairie Victor Lecoffre), 4th edit., 1908, n. 19; 6th edit., 1923, n. 20. :tTCreusen-Ellis, Religious Men and Women in the Code (Milwaukee: The .Bruce Publishing Company, 3rd English edition, 1940), n. 27. ~SCreusen-Ellis. ibid., n. 30. 66 March, 19 5 0 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? BOUSCAREN-ELLIS: "'It is the mind ot: the Church that after a diocesan congregation has developed its membership and spread to other dioceses, and has given satisfaction in its pursuit of good works, it may apply to the Holy See for pontifical approbation and thus become a po.ntifical institute.''2~ REGATILLO: "Diocesan congregations are not accustomed to be divided into provinces because when they are sufficiently diffused they become pontifical.''~° RAMSTEIN: "Since every religion of diocesan law normally entertains the hope of acquiring in time the status of a religion of papal approval . JOMBART: "A congregation spread into several dioceses and flourishing generally desires to become pontifical.''z2 "A multidioce-san and large congregation desires almost always to become pon-tifical, the better to safeguard its unity.''3~ Doctorate dissertations in canon law of the Catholic University of America have expressed similar opinions: ORTH: "The great difference that exists between episcopal and papal approbation is well known and, since the papal dxcels the epis-copal in extent, being wider and greater in effects and giving assur-ance of an unerring guidance, it is not in the least surprising that from the start, a new religious congregation will have this in view, to obtain a favorable decision'concerning itself from the Holy See. In its early stages a new community is still in an imperfect condition. Though entirely an autonomous society, yet it is subject to many restrictions on the part of the bishop. Besides formerly if it should chance to spread into other dioceses many things militated~ against unity which is a prime requisite in order that the institute preserve its original nature and purpose. In this respect nowadays it is welI pro-tected by the Code. The aim of the new society will be to have firmness and stability, to be enriched with all the privileges and favors of Mother Church, which aim will not be fully obtained unless it has received the seal of definite approbation from the Head of all christendom.''34 "The spread to other dioceses is considered ~t0Bouscaren-Ellis, Canon Law (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1946), p. 234. Z0Regatillo, lnstitutiones luris Canonici (Santander: Sal Terrae, 1946), I, n. 650. 81Ramstein, A Manual of Canon Law (Hoboken: Terminal Printing ~ Publishing Co., 1947), p. 299. a22ombart, Traitd de Droit Canonique (Paris: Letouzey et Ane, 1946) I, n. 810, 2. 33Jombarr, ibid. 8'~C. R. Orth, O.M.C., The Approbation of Religious Institutes (Washington: The Catholic University of America, 193.1), p. 131. 67 JOSEPH 1::. GALLEN the best reason for asking the approbation of the Holy See, because in that case there would be as many heads as there are bishops of the places where the community is established and this multiplied gov-ernment is not conducive to unity.''s5 FARRELL: "When a congregation has received pontifical appro-bation many phases of its subjection are withdrawn from the local Ordinaries in whose territory the congregation exists, and this juris-diction is supplanted by direct subjection to the Holy See. Thus, unfettered by the divergencies of the multiplicity of diocesan juris-dictions, the congregation achieves an extensive opportunity to exer-cise in a wider way the autonomy of moral personality, affording a unity of purpose through the various ramifications of its internal government to accomplish more effectively the work and purpose of its foundation.''s° IV. Conclusion The reader is now in a position to give his own answers to the questions of this article. These answers should be based primarily on the mind and will of the Holy See and on the common opinion in the Church. If the will of the Holy See is evident with regard to any action, arguments in favor of or contrary to that action are simply a matter of indifference. The intrinsic arguments for seeking papal approval emphasized by the authors cited above are: (1) the government and the constitu-tions of the institute receive a greater authority; (2-) the central and internal government becomes stronger; (3) the unity of govern-ment, spirit, and ministries of the institute is preserved;. (4) the in-stitute is endowed with a greater stability and is thus better able to preserve its original nature-and accomplish its original purpose: (5) the life and government of the institute become more autono-mous; (6) the institute has a greater liberty of diffusion and thus of increase. To these can be added (7) the more autonomous character of the institute naturally begets a greater internal initiative; (8) the immediate subjection to the Head of all Christendom and the wider diffusion of the institute are more apt to engender the universal view-point of the Holy See; (9) the constitutions approved by the Holy See and examined and corrected by specialists will very likely possess a greater excellence and utility. s~Orth, ibid., p. 145. SOB. F. Farrell, The Rights and Duties of the Local Ordinary Regarding Congrega-tions, o[ Women Religious o[ Pontifical Approval (Washington: The Catholic Uni-versity of America Press, 194~1), p. 56. 68 The Vir :ue of F:ait:h in :he Spiri :ual Life ~lohn Matthews, S.~I. BY ITS BAPTISMAL BIRTH man's soul receives divine life for the first time. It takes on a wholly, new and higher life. A second life comes into the soul and into its powers of mind and will. While sanctifying grace lifts the soul to a divine way of life, the virtues of faith, hope, and charity fill man's mind and will with the strength he needs to live his higher life. Thus grace thrbugh faith, hope, and charity makes us new men with new minds and wills. But what is faith? Life means power; faith is a God-given power of our grace-life. Life means lasting power; on this earth the holy person always possesses faith. This faith is a virtue, a power to take God at His word. By faith in action we believe God just because it is God who has spoken. In faith we bend our minds to the authority of God, of God's Son 3esus Christ and of God's Church. Man has a duty of bowing his whole self before God; through faith be subjects his mind to God. Thus faith is belief in God because He knows and tells the truth; those who enjoy such faith we call the faithful. In our Christian life this virtue is absolutely necessary. ~¢ usually comes through baptism and is lost only by mortal sins against faith such as heresy and apostasy. So the grown-up without faith lives in serious sin and has turned himself away from both God and heaven. "But without faith it is impossible to please God" (Heb. 11:6)--in the way God wants to be pleased, honored, adored, loved and obeyed, i.e., in the supernatural way of life. Again, we need faith because it enters into every deed of our grace-life. In all these works faith is at least implicit. Lastly, as souls born of God, we must have faith. For, as the child must be able to take his parents at their word, so we must be able to believe our heavenly Father: and we do this by faith~ "For you are a11 the children of God by faith" (Gal, 3:26). This important virtue of which we speak is a supernatural gift. It forms part of the equipment by which holy souls live and grow in the divine life. With this faith we know truths man could never know of himself. All the genius of Aristotle, Shakespeare, and 69 JOHN MATTHEWS Review [orReligious Edison could never figure them out; all the power of all men's minds could, never guess them. For by faith we know divine truths in a divine way. We see with certainty what God has told men through Christ and the, Church;; we take a .deeper look into God's teachings; we view everything with a sight and understanding far beyond the human. Through faith, furthermore, we possess the mind of Christ. "But we have the mind of Christ" (1 Cot. 2 : 16). This is the new mind we receive along with the new life of grace. No longer do we think and plan in a merely human{ way but we think as Christ did, we plan as Christ planned, we value what Christ valued. We think holy thoughts; we know the truths Christ knew and chose to tell us; we accept His judgments and values on everything, e.g., on the world, on race and color, on the human soul. With the new mind of faith the supernatural man looks on all things in their relation to God and to his own salvation. This is faith at work--a living active fruitful faith: The virtue of faith, while itself interior, produces acts of faith both interior and exterior. Indeed, the faith of God's children must be a working faith. Such is the message of St. James in his Epistle. "For even as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead" (James 2:26). Possessing the mind of Christ, we must use that mind to live our divine life. For faith is the rock-foundation of our morals, our devotions, and our liturgy. Hence our holy deeds must be rooted in and must spring from faith in action. The "man of God must live by faith, and this he does when he bows his mind to divine truth on God's authority and when he guides his actions by that truth. Faith guides our actions by entering into there. It underlies and penetrates all our virtuous acts. The Catholic can hope for heaven only after faith tells him heaven exists. The faithful obey Christ's Church because faith assures them it is the true. church. Penitents by approaching the confessional bear witness to their faith that God's priest has power to forgive sins. In his belief that bap-tism is necessary for salvation, the Catholic father bears his child to the font of eternal life. Confirmed in faith, God's children adore the Eucharistic Christ, receive Holy Communion, and offer the Holy Sacrifice. As another instance of how faith penetrates.our life of holiness, let us consider charity. This latter virtue shows .itself in many diverse acts (1 Cot. 13:~r-8). There is the love of God above all 70 March, 1950 VIRTUE OF FAITH else, which we must practice in order to continue living the divine life. There are the works ofmercy, compassion' for one's fellow men, perfect contrition, almsgiying, the love of our neighbor in Christ, th~ expending of self for God's sake and for others. The reason why holy souls do these charitable deeds is the love of God in Himself and of men in God. But this infinite lovableness of God they know through.faith, which teaches them that God deserves to receive our purest love. Thus faith enters into our works of charity by supplying a supernatural reason for doing them. So too in all the circumstances of life does faith play its divinely assigned part. The truths we believe have power to overcome our human fear, weakness, and distrust of seIf. How often Our Savior spoke these words: "thy faith hath made thee whole" (Matt. 9:29; 15:28; Luke 8:48; 17:19). In the face of temptation, sickness, evil habits, poverty, andpersecution our faith gives us grounds for confidence that we can overcome all hardships in a Christlike man-ner. "This is the victory which overcometh the world, our faith" (1 dohn 5:4). In. order to see further the force and value of Catholic belief in the soul, let us view two men-~one with and the other without faith. On the death of a relative the latter can give only human sympathy, cannot help the deceased, can only send flowers and'can-not comfort the bereaved very'greatly. The real Catholic through his faith speaks words of divine sympathy. He helps both his dead relative and bereaved kinsfolk--by his comforting words, by his prayers and Masses and virtuous deeds. The soul without faith grieves as those "who have no hope" (I Thess. 4:13); the faithful soul sees in death God's will, entertains the hope of eternal happi-ness for his dear deceased, and offers his pain at bereavement to help his relative into heaven. Again the work of faith appears when these same men yisit a Catholic church. To the faithless person the church is a structure--perhaps, a thing of beauty; to the faithful, it is a home, a holy place, the house of God. For the former the stained-glass windows may be works of art; for the Catholic they serve to recall the mysteries of his religion and to hold his mind in prayer. In the opinion of the man without faith the baptismal font, confes-sional, and altar rail are the ordinary furnishings of a church; the child of God esteems them as sources of divine life in his soul. To his mind the tabernacle is no mere happening but the abode of Christ in the Eucharist; the altar is no chance property but the place of daily sacrifice, the bne thing withoutt which no building can be a church: 71 JOHN MATTHEWS the sactuary lamp is not just an adornment but a sign to the faithful that Jesus is at home, waiting for their visit. In the Catholic church the person who has not faitl-J is a stranger and sight-seer, the man of faith is at home with Jesus in His Father's house. So vast is the difference between the person without faith and the man whose actions are wholly penetrated by tiis Catholic faith! Let us sum up now the work of faith in the divine life of our soul. The virtue of faith gives us a new mind, enlightened with the new truths of Our Lord's Testament. A grown-up receiving the virtue of faith, may seem the same after his conversion as before-- ¯ but he is not. He has new thoughts; he knows God's new com-mands; all events in his life take on a divine meaning for eternity: his belief gives a heavenly purpose to his actions: he will soon show by his outward deeds of virtue the inward change within his mind. "For with the heart we believe unto justice: but with the mouth confession is made unto salvation" (Rum. 10:10). Moreover, to live the life of grace we must 1ire a life of faith. This virtue must influence' a11 our actions. Hence our every deed must be an act "of faith, must bear witness that we choose~ to be amongst God's faithful, must be a profession of our belief. Our religion, which is our .faith, must underlie all the circumstances of our lives and give them a Catholic tone and value. That is the work ¯ of faith. Thus by living a life of faith we actively live our grace-life. "The just man liveth by faith" (Rum. 1:17). Indeed, our faith and our divine life grow step by step together. For every holy deed we do God gives us this reward: our grace-life grows fuller and at the same time our virtue of faith is so deepened and enriched that it becomes stronger against temptation, that we are more Christ-minded, that we can make greater acts of faith. In this manner faith plays its important part in the growth of our divine life. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN and JOHN MATTHEW8 are members of the faculty at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. DOMINIC HUGHES is a member of the Pontifical Faculty of Theology, Dominican House of Studies, Washington, D. C. 72 On Controversy WE HAVE RECEIVED certain c,r, iticisms for publishing "Thd Three Ages o~f the Interior Life, by G.'Augustine Ellard, S.3". (Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII, 297-317.) One criti-cism is that the "theological erudition" of Father Ellard's article "takes advantage of readers who lack the technical preparation neces- Sary to measure its true weight." (Cf. IX, 42~-43.) Another criti-cism, not sent for publication, is that Father Ellard's article contains controversial matter, and that a magazine like ours should keep clear of controversy. It seems advisable to explain our position. Father Ellard's article was a book review; and the work he reviewed (The Three Ages of the Interior Life, by Father R. Garri-gou- Lagrange, OIP.) is decidedly theological. It is difficult to see how a v~ork of this kind could be reviewed without using theological erudition. Moreover, The Three Ages is intended, as least partly, for just such people as our readers; hence it seems that the theological erudition used in reviewing the work would no more take advantage of readers than would the work itself. It might be added here that one of the precise purposes for founding this REVIEW was tO present sound theology without the technical accompaniments that are usu-ally found in a strictly theological journal. As for controversy, we have always tried assiduously to avoid controversial topics or at least to avoid taking sides in any theologi-cal debate. Less than a year ago, when we published "Mystical Life--Mystical Prayer," by M. Raymond, O.C.S.O., we were care-ful to prefix to the article an editorial note indicating that Father Raymond's view was only one of three legitimately defended opin-ions on the normal development of the spiritual life. We expressed no preference for any of the opinions. (Cf. VIII, 121,) No one objected to our calling attention to the controversial nature of Father Raymond's article. Why, therefore, should anyone object to Father Ellard's pointing out that certain basic questions in The Three Ages are subjects of legitimate controversy? It would be naive to imply that, in publishing Father Ellard's .article, we did not expect contrary reactions. Since the author of The Three Ages has many admirers, it was quite likely that some of 73 ON CONTROVERSY Review for Religious them would come to his defense. It is clear, then, that in publishing the book review, we had to run the risk of controversy. The only ways oi~ avoiding it would be to refuse to review the work, or to publish an insincere review, or to print a sincere review without allowing a rebuttal. None of these procedures was or is desirable. Hence, we have some controversy, and perhaps it may continue for a time. We trust that our readers will find it both interesting and profitable. In this issue we present an article by Father Dominic Hughes, O.P., in rebuttal to Father Ellard, together with a brief reply by Father Ellard and a communication defending his position. Other'expres-sions of opinion on either side will be accepted. However, lest this subject .matter consume disproportionate space in the REVIEW, it seems necessary to limit further contributions to communications. Conditions for acceptance of these communications will be found on page 96. Now a word about Father Hughes's article. In some aspects it differs from our usual editorial policy; yet it seemed better, under the circumstances, to waive insistence on policy. What he says, however, about doctrinal authority in the Church, especially the authority of Doctors of the Church in general and of St. Thomas Aquinas in particular, calls for special editorial comment. For the most part this comment will simply agree with him and emphasize the truth of what he says; in one point it will at least qualify one of his views if not express a complete difference of opinion. Father Hughes rightly observes that the highest doctrinal author-ity in this world is the teaching Church. And this truth needs emphasizing in our times, even in the case of many devout laymen. This teaching Church is composed of the Pope himself, and of the bishops of the world united with tbe Pope, whether in a general council or ~in their respective dioceses. Theologians graphically and reverently style the~e successors to the Apostles theVioum Magisterium (the living teaching body) or simply the Ecclesia Docens (the teaching Church). It is a wonderful thing, this living teaching Church; it pos-sesses not only the great truths of revelation with which Christ and the Holy Spirit endowed the Apostles but also all the wisdom of the succeeding centuries which has been used in the exploration and explanation of the original endowment (the Deposit of Faith,. as it is. called), The Doctors and other theologians have authority only in so far as they express either the doctrine of this living .Church or 74 March, 1950 ON CONTROVERSY speculations which are in conformity with that doctrine. The revelation confided to the Church is a limitless treasure; and our knowledge of the doctrine and its implications is subject to con-stant growth. In this process 9f growth through the centuries there have always been questions that were not clear, that needed further exploration and illumination. Consequently, there have been and are divergent opinions, with abIe scholars defending contrasting views, without remonstrance and even with encouragement from the Church. The interesting question thus arises: how is the theologian of today to align himself in such controversies? Thd first duty of the true theologian is to judge the reasons of the respective sides in the light of already established principles and doctrines. Finding the reasons lacking sufficient cogency to win his preference, he might then inspect the authorities holding the different views. Suppose that in a debated question such as I have just outlined, a Doctor of the Church would be the principal defendant of one opinion. Should he, by the very fact that-he is a Doctor, win the theologian's intellectual preference? I get the impression from Father Hughes's article that he would answer this question in the affirma-tive. If this impression is correct, there is room here for a difference of opinion. The title of Doctor of the Church includes an official declaration of eminence in theological learning, but not necessarily pre-eminence over all uncanonized scholars. The eminence of some of these uncanonized theologians is attested by the constant use of their works in theological schools and even by the great, confidence placed in them by the Church while they were still living. Father Hughes suggests that in the canonized Doctor there is the added con-sideration of supernatural wisdom. But this wisdom is not limited to the canonized; it accompanies grace and virtue, not canonization. And history attests that many of the uncanonized scholars were men of lofty virtue. For example, speaking for Benedict-XV, Cardinal Gasparri styled Scotus a "most holy man,"; and speaking for himself Leo XIII referred to eminent Jesuit scholars (none of whom .were then Doctors of the Church) as men of "extraordinary virtue." So much for the authority of Doctors of the Church in general. As for St. Thomas Aquinas in particular, it is unquestionable that the Church's esteem for him is unique. Canon 1366, § 2, directs that professors of philosophy and theology should treat these subjects after the method, doctrine, and principles of the Angelic Doctor, and ¯ should hold these as sacred. An examination of the many documents 75 ON CONTROVERSY Review for Reliflious referred to in the sources of this' canon shows that it is but a capsule formulation of the insistent injunctions and directives of Leo XIII, Plus X, and Benedict XV. These Popes considered him not merely as an individual but also as the representative of all the great Scho-lastics of his time because in his works the best of their teaching is most perfectly embodied. Six years after the promulgation of the Code of Canon Law, Plus XI reaffirmed the praise and injunctions of his predecessors in an encyclical letter (Studiorum Ducem, June 29, 1923) which is rightly called a papal commentary on canon 1366, § 2. Finally; just a few months after he became Supreme Pontiff, Plus XII, in an address to clerical students in Rome, .recalled and approved all these directives (June 24, 1939). Obviously, therefore, the Church wants professors and students of philosophy and theology to follow St. Thomas. Ye~ it is not to be a slavish following which, in the words of Benedict XV, "would clip the wings of genius with consequent injury to the deeper study of theology," (Spoken in an audience granted to the Jesuit General and his Assistants, Feb. 17, 19.15.) 'This is not the place to try to indicate precisely the legitimate limitations to the following of St. Thomas; but it may be well to show, through the words of the Popes themselves, that the~e are some limits. Speaking of the "wisdom of Aquinas," Leo XIII insisted that he did not wish to propose to our age for imitation "anything which does not duly agree with the proved findings of a later age;" or any-thing "which does not hax~e its measure of probability." (Cf. the encyclical Aeterni Patrfs, in Fontes Codicis, III, p. 149.) Benedict XV declared in a letter to the Jesuit General (Mar. 19, 1917) that the Roman Pontiffs "have invariably held that St. Thomas must be regarded as the guide and master in the study of theology and phi-losophy,, although everyone retains full freedom to argue for either side of those questions which can be and are wont to be disputed." Pius XI, having enjoined the strict observance of canon 1366, § 2, added: "But let no one require of others more than is required of all by the Church herself who is the teacher and mother of all; for in those matters in which there is division of opinion among the best authors in Catholic schools, no one is forbidden to follow that opinion which seems to him to be nearer to the truth." (AAS, XV, 324.) Finally, in the address previously referred to, Pius XII said: "At the same time we make Our own the warnings of these same Predecessors, whereby they sought to protect genuine progress in sci- 76 ON CONTROVERSY ence and lawful liberty of research. We thoroughly approve and recommend that the ancient wisdom be brought into accord, if need be, with the new discoveries of scholarship; that there be free discus-sion of points on which reputable students of the Angelic Doctor commonly argue; that fresh resources be drawn from history for the better understanding of the text of St.Thomas." (AAS, XXX; 246-47.) Some people, hazily cognizant of historical disagreements on certain profound questions, seem to think that Dominicans and Jesuits are always on opposite sides of a theological debate and that Jesuits are not followers of St. Thomas. The impression is false. And it may be informative to add here that St. Ignatius enjoined the study of the "Scholastic doctrine of St. Thomas," and that this rather general prescription of our constitutions was made very definite by our Fifth General Congregation (1594), which legislated that Jesuits must consider St. Thomas as their own special doctor. The words of Leo XIII are witness to the fidelity of Jesuits in carrying out this command. Speaking of eminent Jesuit theologians, the Pope said that "being as they were, men of extraordinary virtue and talent, and applying themselves assiduously to the works of the Angelic Doctor, with certain arguments they expounded his tenets in a manner full and excellent,, they adorned his doctrine with the rich trappings of erudition, they made many keen and practical deduc-tions therefrom for the refutation of new errors, adding besides what-ever declarations or more exact decrees had since that time been made by the Church in this same field. The fruits of their industry no one in truth can spurn without loss to himself." (Apostolic Letter Gravissirne Nos to the Jesuit General, 1892.) --GERALD KELLY, S.J. SEARCHLIGHTING OURSELVES Many shrewd observations for retreats and tridua are found in Searchlighting Ourselues, the Retreat Notes of Father Timothy Brosnahan, S.J., edited by Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J. The book contains notes on the various meditations of The Spir-itual Exercises, several conferences on basic points of the spiritual life, and a number of special meditations, notably a series on the Beatitudes, for use during tridua. Jesuit Seminary and Mission Bureau, 51 East 83rd St., New York 28, N.Y. 77 Works of Made/v anit:es!: Dominic Hughes, O.P. CHARITY and solicitude for souls moved .Father Ellard (RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1949) to lay several stric-tures upon Father Garrigou-Lagrange's Three A~es of the Interior Life. That same charity now prompts a staying hand. Petulance or truculence cannot rise to defend either side in chari-table controversy. Neither party can reprove the sincere expression of an opinion any more than either can approve indefiniteness in doc-trine or ineptness in expression. Rather both must call upon charity's constant companion, wisdom, whose "abode is in the full assembly of the saints" (Ecclesiasticus 24: 16). However unqualified writers or readers may be in matters secu-larly or sacredly scientific, their judgment from wisdom will partake of that calm and certitude of those aware that "If anyone desires to do His will, he will know of the teaching whether it is from God" (,John 7:17). Even in these controversies about subsidiary doc-trines and their suitable expression something of the clarity and security of a truly wise appraisal is attainable, "for the spiritual man judges all" (I Corinthians 2 : 15). The judgment of the spiritual man is based on neither caprice nor allegiance, but solely upon wisdom. "It pertains to wisdom," --St. Thomas, the Common Doctor, expressed the common doc-trine--" to consider the highest causes through which it may judge of other things with the greatest certitude and according to which it should order other things" (Summa Tbeolo~qica, II-Ilae. q.45, a.1). Wisdom, then, has one main product and two by-products. The primary product of any habit of wisdom is a "consideration of the highest causes." In the different orders of reality and knowl-edge, various highest causes attract the attention of divers kinds of wise men. In any case, however, the object of wisdom's considera-tion is the ultimate, in words as in works. In works the absolute ultimate in no way ordered to anything further, and the measure of all, are the works of God made manifest in the works of Christ. Relatively ultimate, first and last in a particular line, and the measure of that group, are the works, for example, of a founder of a religious society, so that St. Ignatius would be the measure of the accomplish-ments as Jesuits of his followers, even of the glorious achievements 78 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST of St. Francis Xavier and St. Robert Bellarmine. In words, the absolute and unassailable ultimate is the voice of the Church and Sacred Scripture. Relative ultimates, too, are found in various writings: .those of St. Thomas for the whole of theology, those of St. Alphonsus Liguori for practice in moral problems, and those of St. 3ohn of the Cross inmatters mystical. Upon the basis of this "consideration of highest causes" wisdom has as one of its by-pr0ducts a judgment of things other than the highest cause itself "with the greatest certitude." The maximum of security in judgment is not invariable, but will change according as the highest cause is either absolutely or only relatively ultimate. In matters in which the Voice of God has not yet been heard---or may never be--the certitude attainable cannot be as unqualified as when the Church has spoken. Yet various other causes may be given a limited but appreciable certitude as they more or less cogently elimi-nate any worthy fear of contradiction. Moreover, some considera-tions within the scope of wisdom's judgment, metaphysics for example, need admit of no exceptions. Moral judgments, of which the mystical is a phase, however, can attain a certitude about human actions only "as they most often happen." "For it is the mark of the educated man to look for certitude in each class of things just so far as the nature of the subject admits" (Aristotle, I Ethics, c. 3). In this spirit, St. Augustine, who was well aware that no case was finished until Rome had spoken, expressed a wise certitude: "I do not wish my reader to be bound down to me, so I do not wish my corrector to be bound down to himself. Let not the former love me more than the Catholic faith, let not the latter love himself more than the Catholic verity . Do not be willing to amend my writings by thine own opinion or disputation, but from the divine text or by unanswerable reasons." (On the Trinity, Bk. III, Preface.) The mere possibility of an unwarranted contradiction because his every word was not inspired or even uncontested--was not enough to unsettle the mind of St. Augustine, even about what he himself had written. Certainly others reading his words so often approved by the Church can reach the "greatest certitude." Like-wise, concerning a wide variety of matters, even without a decision of the Church or a consensus of theologians, certitude can be had upon the basis of either the arguments proposed or auth6rities cited. The citing of authorities is not a matter of number but of weight. The weight of one Doctor of the Church can overbalance toward 79 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or Religious certitude any dispute, despite the contradictions of a multitude of theological scribes. Weighing such authority is the second by-product of wisdom. From a catalog of opinions or an enumeration of members of various schools a deep appreciation of human limita-tions may be derived, but scarcely a wise judgment. Wisdom, in addition to considering the highest causes and judging other things with the greatest certitude, orders other things .acgording to the highest cause, either in any particular grouping or according to the absolute ultimate itself. It does not gather a crowd but establishes a hierarchy. Not how many authors may be found who differ from one another, but how they are arranged relative to the primary master of the subject, e.g., ~lohn of the Cross~such is the judgment of wisdom. This wise ordering of authors, moreover, avoids two extremes. Spiritual atavism is inclined to bow so low and so often before the ancestral authority of a father, either of the Church or even of a particular spiritual family, that little opportunity is afforded for examining or explaining doctrinal implications or making practical applications. The other extreme to be shunned, more a tendency than a tenet, is a mollified "modernism." Those affected by it are disposed to judge the latest as the best, the more contemporary as the, more commendable. The foundation for avoiding both extremes, too much of the past, too much of the.present, and of formulating a truly wise judgment is an ordering, not according to.personal prefer-ences but according to principles. The principles of wise judgment are not personal but the peren-nial preferences and special approbation of the Church. When the Popes have praised and so often used particular authorities, e.g., St. Augustine or St. Thomas, as the highest, though not the exclusive causes for engendering certitude in the judgments of the faithful, there is little fear of worthy contradiction in following their example. In that case, other theological or spiritual writers, as they more or less approach and approximate the doctrines of these highest causes of the greatest possible certitude will take their place in the estimate and esteem of wisdom. The impressiveneses of such considerations as numbers, either of authors or copies of their works sold, avail-ability in English, or other such shavings of certitude is, for wisdom, negligible compared to the arguments or authority of but a single Doctor of the Church. These teachers of the "mind of Christ" offer principles at once profound and practical. The highest in heaven always seem the most down-to-earth. None realized more than they how each soul 80 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST must budget its talents, using a few well-coined principles through- Out its spiritual life to make both ends meet---in God. Prodigality in principles and in words, they were sure, would contribute to neither practicality nor profundity. With but little, and all of that Christ's, they sought and saw the deep things of God and the deep things of each soul on its way towards Him. The profundity and practicality of other spiritual writers can be wisely appraised only as it more or less approaches what is found in the Doctors both in their wisdom by infusion and their Wisdom by 'industry. Together in a single act these fountainheads of truth converged to give the saintly doctors their certitude. In others--so often what is united in superiors is divided in inferiors--an actual judgment is the result of either one or tlSe other, either of wisdom by infusion or of wisdom by industry. Wisdom by infusion, the science of the saints, as a Gift of the Holy Ghost judgeswith certainty and orderliness, not through metaphysical discourse, but by a loving accord with its object--"by tasting and seeing that the Lord is sweet." Wisdom by industry, the science of theology, on the other hand, secure though it is in the principles of faith, suffers the labors and infirmities of all human effort. Yet,. at times, wisdom by infusion must appeal to wisdom by industry to corroborate its expressions and to co-ordinate its findings; the mystics and spiritual writers must submit divine truth to the scribes in theology for a test in human terms. Wisdom's test, in human terms, concerning the charitable contro-versy over the divergent views of Father Garrigou-La~range and Father Ellard involves two major considerations: doctrine and method. The points of doctrinal divergence most worthy of mention con-cern the Gifts of the Holy Ghost: contemplation: its place and kinds; and the unity of the interior life. The methodological differences arise either positively from the stress or emphasis of one doctrine more than another, or negatively through the omission of detail by some considered as integral to any spiritual treatise. WISDOM IN WORDS: DOCTRINE The points controverted concerning the Gifts of the Holy Ghost are their necessity, nature, function, and number. " Concerning each of these points separately, and cumulatively, too, Father Ellard brings forth his hobgoblin--uncertainty. Upo'n how little might be said with certainty there can be found only the sole small voice of scholarly research, Father DeBlic, who 81 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or R'eligious minimizes w.hat even Father De Guibert, S.J., thought .an irredu-cible denominator. Many Dominican theologians, are cited as recog-nizing a.controversy upon the matter, but the conclusions of each do not seem worthy of mention by Father Ellard. If thi~. process were pushed to its principle, it would imply that as soon as a point is questioned it immediately becomes questionable, and as soon as doubted, doubtful. Such can. scarcely be a moving principle to wis-dom which has ordered authorities according .to the highest among them and thus attained the "greatest certitude." To corroborate the general judgment of wisdom, however, each subordinate point which has come under scrutiny may well be examined. The necessity of the Gifts, as explained by St. Thomas, seems to have suffered the least from the minimizing tendencies of later and lesser theologians. None of the mystics, moreover, have found them a luxury. They are vital to the life of divine grace; "the just man," Leo XIII testified in his Encyclical Dioinum illud munus (May 9, 1897), "has need of these seven gifts." Because of the overwhelming testimony in tradition to the intimate association of the state of grace and presence of the Gifts, even the doughtiest opponent of Thomistic doctrine on the Gifts must treat the denial of this point as negligible. The nature of the Gifts, however, is quite another matter. "They make us docile to the Holy Ghost," according to a formula suffi-ciently broad to embrace all'variants, but not to preclude precisions. While all would agree that docility to the Holy Ghost is of the essence of the Gifts, as Father Ellard triumphantly pointed out to drive in the wedge of uncertainty, "not all" would ,concur with St. Thomas in finding them distinct habits in the soul. The words of Sacred Scripture itself give warrant for St. Thomas's doctrine, inasmuch as they imply a unique divine influx. This,doctrine of St. Thomas cannot lightly be set aside. His reason cannot be dis-proved, his authority no one can gainsay. Although obviously not of Faith, his doctrine has an approbation by the Church incompar-ably above any i~f those proposed by Father Ellard as competitors for our certain allegiance. Ordinary permission to teach or publish thisis only a faint resemblance to the abundant approval given to Doctors of the Church. In them, because of their sanctity and the special scrutiny of their works, the Church recognizes unique wit-nesses and guardians of her patrimony, the doctrine of Christ. Over and above the acclamations usually given to a Doctor, St. Thomas has received frequent and unique marks of esteem from the Church. Pope Pius V referred to him as "the most certain rule of Christian 82 March, 1950 X~rORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST doctrine," and Pope Clement VIII was sure that he could be "fol-lowed without any danger of error." These" and many other state-ments by successive Popes are not private hyperbole but public declarations, normative if not mandatory in Faith. Against this weight of certitude from St. Thomas, Father Ellard proposes (p. 305) a theologian described, in a citation from clerical students, as the."Subtle Doctor." Of the su.btlet~r of'Scotus there is no doubt; but of the tebm "Doctor" as applied to him there is con-siderable reason for hesitance. No more of a' Doctor of the Church than so many others who have taught in her schools throughout the centuries, Scotus has neithe~ the approval of his sanctity nor of his doctrine that is required of a Doctor. His opinion is, therefore, of an entirely other brder in certitude from that of St. Thomas. It is on a plane "with that of Suarez, who could not concur with St. Thomas in the matter of grace but could affirm against Scotus that he appreciated the importance of distinguishing between the virtues and the Gifts. The allegiance, moreover, of St. Francis de Sales to the doctrine of Scotus cannot be alleged'with certitude. The Gifts are, in the words cited by Father Ellard' (p. 306), "the virtues, properties and qualities of charity." (Cf. The Looe or: God, XI, 15.) "Speaking precisely," as St. Francis assured us he was doing, all these entities are distinct from the essence, although perhaps inseparable from it. In like manner, although the Gifts and charity are always together, they do not merge into one habit, otherwise the same might be said of St. Francis de Sales' doctrine of the relation of charity and the other infused virtues. Charity would not then be the "gift of gifts" (XI, 19), but the one gift, n6t the essence or bond of perfection, but the whole of the spiritual organism. There is nothing suffi-ciently explicit in the words of St. Francis de Sales to indicate an approval of the Scotistic opinion or the disapproval of the doctrine of St. Thomas. Even if a rivalry were established between these two Doctors of the Church, inasmuch as the matter is one of theological principles, the preponderance of authority would easily go to St. Thomas. To St. Thomas, then, and not to Father Garrigou-Lagrange, wisdom looks for its "highest cause" according to which it might order other opinions and thus attain the "greatest certitude" possible concerning the nature" of the Gifts. Obviously, Pohle-Preuss, Forget; Van der Meersch, and legions of other writers who subscribe to what is least as what is safest, are far from disturbing the certitude of 'a 83 DOMINIC HUGHES Reoiew for Religious soul in which wisdom dwells. The judgment of wisdom appre-ciates the authority and approves the arguments, the sublimity and certainty, of the doctrine on the Gifts proposed without equivoca-tion by St. Thomas. Allegedly based upon St. Thomas and employing his authority is the more recent confection of two different modes of the Gifts in life. The gesture with which Father Ellard includes Cardinal Billot among Thomists is so expansive that it would embrace all who, for one point or another, approximate the teaching of the Angelic Doc-tor, whose method, doctrine, and principles are to be held by all teachers as sacred according to the mandate of the Church (Code of Canon Law, canon 1366, § 2). Moreover, the contemporary pro-ponent of the theory qf two modes of the Gifts in this life, one ordi-nary, the other extraordinary, was immediately and unhesitatingly denounced as having mistaken and misquoted St. Thomas by Fathers R. Dalbiez (l~tudes Carm$litaines, April 1933, pp. 250ff.) and P. P~rinelle (Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques, No~ember 1932, p. 692), as well as by Father Garrigou-Lagrange (La Vie spirituelle, November 1932, suppl, pp. [ 77 ] if). Such total misinterpretation of St. Thomas cannot be a "form of modern Thomistic theory on the Gifts," as Father Ellard would have it (p. 310), but rather a warning against making St. Thomas a wit-ness to any elaboration prejudicial to his principles. Certain, partly because it is "seamless," Thomistic doctrine preserves its purity and integrity by faithful adherence to the "method, doctrine, and prin-ciples" in the text of St.' Thomas, particularly in the question of the nature of the Gifts. The number of the Gifts is likewise clearly and authoritatively determined in the text of St. Thomas. As always, he is in full accord with the texts of Sacred Scripture which the Church and the best exegetes c~ansider most reliable, as well as the sense of the Church in the hymn Veni, Sancte Spiritus, and the Catechism of the Coun-cil of Trent. St. Augustine is of the same mind (cf. On Christian Doctrine, II, 7), and St. Francis de Sales refers to the "seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost" (The Love of God, XI, 19) in a text otherwise considered probative by Father Ellard (p. 306). To introduce and perhaps induce a doubt in the traditional enumerhtion as taxative or "limitative," Father Ellard cites (p. 309) an author who would amplify the number as by "an infinite variety of shades." This plethora, seven is a "plenitude," the same author affirms is the intention of the sacred authors, "as we know." How we are to know, 84 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST however, is not indicated. Either a private revelation or some extremely adroit exegesis would be necessary to belie the authority of Doctors of the Church, who, so close to the primary author of Sacred Scripture--the Holy Ghost--have considered the Gifts as numeri-cally determined. Determination by the Doctors on one point may leave still another undetermined with exactly the same cogency and certitude. St. Thomas himself, having given, on the authority of another, a general schema of the functions of the various gifts, found it neces-sary to reconsider one of its aspects. "Who will assure us that the . last is perfect?" Father EIIard quotes (p. 309) a scholar who has studied the point. Who, on the other hand, will be temerarious enough to.insist that the last is imperfect or.less perfec~ than any other proposed? A distinction and argument which, after long thought, had clarity and cogency for St. Thomas has the added note of authority for those who wisely appraise both the change and the conclusion. In making his schema, St. Thomas realized he was establishing an appropriate parallel, an educative device, an argu-. ment of convenience. Neither he nor St. Augustine--nor Father Garrigou-Lagrange--attributes the same probative force to a schema as to a syllogism. Indeed, The Three Ages evidences an admirable conformity to the doctrine of St. Thomas, and his classical commen-tator, John of St. Thomas, in the substance and schema for the functioning of the various Gifts. The final point concerning what Father Ellard chooses rather ungraciously to call "the present-day Thomistic hypothesis" of the Gifts is their association with the doctrine that some graces are intrinsically efficacious. A larger issue is involved here than the .mat-ter of the Gifts and it should not be treated by innuendo. If at this juncture "many people pause," as Father Ellard expects (p. 310), because the common pre-Reformation doctrine on the efficacy of grace and the nature of the Gifts are "indissolubly bound" in doctrinal integrity, will it be to neglect an assured and consistent teaching for one that is hopelessly entangled in affirmations, denials, and com-promises? Those who demur at the doctrine of grace as expounded by St. Thomas cannot fail to deny his teaching on the Gifts. Only a compromise could enable Suarez to affirm the doctrine of St. Thomas on the nature of the Gifts and deny his doctrine on grace. Such compromises are always uncertain, as the doctrinally internecine con-flict among Molinists and Congruists amply testifies. Somewhat as a summary of his consideration of the .Gifts, 85 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or Religious Father. Ellard implies (p. 311) that because leading Thomists are aware of controversies they themselves are subject to uncertainty. Nothing could be further from the truth, unless that Catholics by their cognizance of heresy diminish their faith. Moreover, because the teaching of The Three Ages is based upon what "the great majority of theologians hold with St.Thomas," a wise judgment would con-cede Father Ellard but poor pleasure in having ferreted out an admission that "'not all [italics his] theologians agree on this par-ticular fundamental point." Upon such minimal evidence and defensive techniques only an artificial uncertainty and imprudent reservation or suspension of judgment can be built. Father Ellard-emphasizes complexity ;ind confusion, Father Garrigou-Lagfange the "certitude of the great directive principles that illuminate all spirituality (cf. p. 311)." In the matter of the Gifts, their neces-sity, nature, number, and fufiction, .not St. Thomas' and Father Garrigou-Lagrange's unassailable doctrine, but Father Ellard's unre-solved doubts lead to "'disillusionment and discouragement" which all are so solicitous to avoid. Another complex question in need of "great directive principles" is that of contemplation. Concerning the exposition of contempla-tion in The Three Ages, Father Ellard seems to find two points of difficulty: the presence of acquired contemplation; the place of the infused. With regard to acquired contemplation, Father Ellard finds reason for criticism in the fact that Father Garrigou-.Lagrange gives it "hardly any place" in his s'ynthesis of the entire interior life,, while the Carmelite Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen devoted "half his work, St. dohn of the Cross" to justifying its place in Carmelite theology. The same Carmelite, however, gives as his wise and orderly conclusion (pp. 199-200) that "the central thesis of the Thomistic spiritual synthesis is supported by the doctrine of actlx;e contemplation." Even if Father Ellard, in the Three Ages, would replace "hardly" with "half" to suit his preferences, the wise ordering of part to whole in both Carmelite and Dominican is obvious. Moreover, "St. Theresa never speaks of any other than infused contemplation.,"~ Father Gabriel states categorically (p. 111), while he and others can find only equivalents of the term in St. John of the Cross. Both the problem of terminology and the point of doc-trine concerning the "beginning of contemplation" (Dark Night, I, 9) and the "acquired prayer of recollection" receive ample and appropriate treatment in the chapter on "Contemplative Prayer" in The Three Ages. More would.make a part into a polemic. 86 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST If others disagree with Father Garrigou-Lagrange in this matter it should not be surprising. The harmony he has indicated between St. Thomas and St. John of the Cross is well-founded in the best Carmelite and Dominican authorities. If a dissident attitude arises from the outside and even seeps within, the foundations, of accord in the Theresian and Thomistic teachings are not tragically undermined. Without mentioning either the Common or the Mystical Doctor, Father Ellard has assembled a variety of authorities (p. 303) to indicate a confusion on the place of infused contemplation. The teachings of Msgr. Saudreau, Tanquerey, Crisogono, and Naval-- all but the last two differing from one another--are arrayed against that of The Three Ages. No mention is made, however, of which of all in the field more closely conforms to the doctrine of the Doctor of Contemplation, St. John of the Cross. Tanquerey, Crisogono, and Naval are not even close. Msgr. Saudreau confines contempla-tion to the unitive way. With "a great difference indeed" (p. 303) Father Garrigou-Lagrange conforms exactly to the doctrine of St. John by placing infused contemplation in both the unitive way and--to use St. John's own words--"the way of proficients, which is also called the illuminative way, or the way of infused contempla-tion" (Dark Night, I, 14). This explicit testimony of the "highest cause" in matters of contemplation and Father Garrigou-Lagrange's strict conformity to it, leaves but one judgment ~or wisdom-- "greatest certitude" for the doctrine on the place of infused con-templa. tion in The Three Ages. Moreover, when it is a question of the relationship between the Gifts and contemplation, Father Ellard's strictures are utterly con-fused. His use as an argument from omission of inappropriate texts from St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus "who would have advocated for all a form of mental prayer that is full of inspirations from the Holy Spirit" is pitiably feeble. Fantastic, nothing less, is his assertion that "although in their process nothing has been said about infused contemplation," persons have been canonized, and hence "we can safely conclude" from no mention, let alone non-manifestation, to the non-existence of interior intellectual movements of the Holy Ghost in their souls. Father Garrigou-Lagrange clearly indicates (I, 81) saints and situations in which the activity of the intellectual Gifts are "diffuse." In them the practical Gifts of coun-sel, fortitude, or fear are more apparent, yet all the gifts will be "highly developed" and wisdom will [egulate all. Since the highest of mystical experiences is within the scope of a moral consideration, 87 DOMINIC HUGHES Ret~ieto for Religious judgments must be wisely formed" of them "as they most often hap-pen." Exceptions corroborate, not corrupt, certitude in morals, "for the man educated to expect them." Neither the fact that "various exceptions" are admitted to the doctrine of the predominance of infused contemplation, nor its "being so closely associated with a questionable theory of the gifts (p. 312)" is ground for asserting that the Theresian-Thomistic position in the Three Ages "suffers" a loss of certitude. Only those who are con-stantly looking for some "phenomenon in consciousness" which is "humanly noticeable" (p. 31'~) complain of dangers of disillusion-ment because the truth of mystical experience did not fit into their preconceived patterns. From the doctrines on the Gifts and contemplation flows the final point of difficulty: the normality of infused contemplation or the unity of the interior life. To Father Ellard's wonderment, The Three Ages "embodies no great new discovery nor corrects any old error" (p. 311). His observation is remarkably exact. The discovery is old, the error is new. Until the seventeenth century no one lost sight of the unity of the interior life and no arbitrary and artificial cleavage between ascetical and mystical theology was introduced. With the publica-tion of Scaramelli's Ascetical Directory an.d Mystical Director~l, how-ever the division and its tragic consequences were popularized. Since things ascetical were conceived as ordinary and the mystical, i.e., infused contemplation, as extraordinary, humility became the motive for the humdrum, and many souls apt for contemplation were forced to excruciating torments on the treadmill of discursive meditation. This new error bade fair to destroy an old discovery. To Father Garrigou-Lagtange is due sincere tribute as one of the vanguard leading souls to an appreciation of the traditional teaching on the unity of the interior life, its contemplative graces and gifts. Those only need fear disillusionment or discouragement in his leadership whose limited ideals or faint heart stultify their wisdom. WISDOM AT WORK: METHOD Wisdom governs not only the principles of the interior life but their presentation. In The Three Ages, Father EIlatd finds its doc-trinal stress and seeming omissions particularly distressing. Father Garrigou-Lagrange's stress upon the Gifts of the Holy Ghost is indeed a strain for Father Ellard. For him, "The whole vast construction presented in these two large volumes stands or fails with the special doctrine on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit which 88 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST forms as it were the supporting framework for it" (p. 305). Yet Father Ellard himself declared (p. 297) that "degrees of virtues, the functions of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, various purifications, arid the grades of prayer are assigned to each of the three ages." Perhaps the mere presence of the Gifts gives them too much prominence for Father Ellard. On~ of his authorities (p. 313), and a confrere, Father Poulain, apparently not a theologian, however proficient a psychologist, in his extensive work, The Graces of Interior Prayer, somehow manages to avoid any treatment of the Gifts. To anyone acquainted with their importance in traditional spiritual writers, the exposition of The Three Ages will seem the mere summary it was intended to be (I, 66). On the other hand, the omissi~)ns Father Ellard finds so lamen-table are more nominal than real. If the part;.cular examination deals with the predominant fault, a chapter on that subject should satisfy Father Ellard's justification of it as "one of the major tech-nique. s in modern Catholic asceticism." When "for the general examination no precise method is suggested," it need not be a strange omission.Once the "Sins to be Avoided" are mentioned, as Father Garrigou-Lagrange does in a chapter by that name (I, 299), the remainder is left to the individual conscience', even in the Spiritual Exercises, since of its five acts in this matter two are a preface, two an epilogue of prayers. Again in the case of mental prayer, concrete details appeal to Father Ellard as the source of certitude. As a mat-ter of fact, the opposite is true. The more particularized is the treat-ment, the more it is subject to doubt. The devious details of these devices for praying, whose security for some is largely in their famili-arity, are better consciously omitted by anyone who writes with the "certitude of the great directive principles of all spirituality" (cf. p. 311). The method of The Three Ages, moreover, cannot rather "stress theory than practice" (p. 302) if its principal excellence is "its inspiratio:lal value," and if "a reader feels his heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled" (p. 301). It can scarcely be labeled as more given to "metaphysics than psychology" (p. 302) when the author keeps reminding his readers of the grand dogmas of Christianity, their "infinite elevation," their implications for our "affective and practical lives" (p. 301). WORDS AT WORK FOR THE WISE For the wise, who are so either by industry in theology or by 89 DOMINIC HUGHES infusion .with God's love, a word of conclusion is sufficient. A wise word may not have rhetorical flair, but it cannot be faltering or fal-lacious. As an expression of the judgment of the "highest causes" with the "greatest certitude" and other things in an orderly manner, it is not an assembly of facts, but an appraisal of values. The relative values of both content and method between what Father Garrigou-Lagrange and Father Ellard offer for its appraisal leave wisdom no doubt whatever. In points of doctrine Father Ellard seems to be without the solid foundation of a man whos~ theological industry has made him wise. Despite his erudition-- sometimes amid the most trivial sources-~-his analysis lacks pro-fundity. Its practicality, too, since it fails in its calculated effect, is open to question. In the face" of an artificially imposed order, Father Ellard's thoughts ramble and lose themselves in details. When his conclusions are declarative, they waver over a "whatever" (p. 314) or a "whether or not" (p. 316), and when they are an interrogative they are most uncertain. His precision in labelling the doctrines of others he suddenly loses when he lets "Catholic" and "Church" slip into sentences containing ideas he favors (p. 302). All of this gives his article the appearance of a somewhat gauche polemic rather than of a sincere and solicitous appraisal. On the other hand, the mag-nificent proportions of The Three Ages are not often met with in contemporary spiritual writing. Because it presents so well the "great dogmas of Christianity" as well as "their implications for our affective and practical lives," each reader feels his "heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled for these great truths" (p. 301). Wisdom's final word concerning the providential purpose of this and other discordant notes in the harmony of the teachings in the Church on the interior life is after the Model of Wisdom Him-self. When the Apostles saw the man born blind, they balanced-- unknowingl~, perhaps--one rabbinical opinion against another: "this man or his parents?" They were forced to suspend judgment, because seeing only alternatives and not an order to a Highest Cause, they remained uncertain. When they appealed to Christ, He gave them an answer many rabbis would not have considered scientific or satisfying "in terms of human experience."" Yet it was sublime and secure. Wisdom Himself replied to the Apostles, and reassures all in the present instance: supernatural security and salvation are accom-plished through suffering and the triumph of wisdom--"because the works of God were to be made manifest . " (John 9:3). 90 March, 1950 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY In his inspiring introductory remarks on wisdom Father Hughes proposes a restricted, relative, and special sense of "certain." " If'we accept that, th~n really there hardly seems to be any necessity of my saying more. He' has virtually conceded the great cardinal point of my whole criticism, namely, that Father Garrigou-Lagrange's doc-trine on the gifts and the corresponding thesis on infused ~ontempla-tion insofar.as this depends on that doctrine, are not, in the plain and ordinary sense of the term, certain. Certaint~ , in this sense, espe-cially when predicated of a doctrine that is theological and specu-lative, is opposed not only to probability, bfit even to greater prob-ablity. Similarly, if the langu.age of The Three Ages is to be under-stood as expressing doctrine t~at is certain only in a limited and relative sense, I. was deceived, and my labor was in vain. Perhaps also some other readers will be misled too. It seems sufficient, therefore, to notice 'very briefly only what in Father Hughes's reply is most relevant to my four principal criti-cisms, and not to say more about certain matters in which he' has mistaken my meaning. Nor shall I advert further to several expres-. sions suggestive of what I would disclaim. Those four contentions were: "'The Three Ages is theoretical rather 'than practical; it is one-sided and narrow; an essential part of it, namely, its doctrine of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, is uncertain; and its main thesis is not after all really so significant" (p. 302). I shall follow the order in which Father Hughes deals with them. First, the gifts. As a simple and practical way of ending this ¯ particular argument, I will give to Father Hughes, if he wishes, a list of all the leading theologians of the twentieth century with their works and the appropriate references to what they teach on the giftsl Then he can see at once in black and white whether Catholic theo-logians agree in proposing as certain, in the usual sense, any such elaborate theory of them as that in The Three Ages. These theo-logians will embody, in varying degrees and ways of course, the present mind of the Church; they will be quite conversant with the altogether unique authority of St. Thomas, and they will be aware also of whatever else is pertinent. In [hem, considered adequately and properly, not merely arithmetically, will be found accumulated Catholic theological wisdom in its most mature and authoritative form. When the theologians, who are the most competent to judge in a question of this kind, are as greatly divided and as uncertain as 91 FATHER ELLARD'8 REPLY Review for Religious they actually are, on what evidence could particular persons come to certain knowledge in the matter? Possibly they can; but indeed it seems most unlikely. When the authorities disagree or "are not posi-tive, it would seem wise for individual persons to suspend judgment. If, as Father Hughes seems to agree, the two Thomistic doctrines on the efficacy of grace and the nature of the gifts stand or fall together, then most emphatically are theologians divided. As for the Doctors' of the. Church, the Augustinians claimed St. Augustine for their view on grace; and both Dominicans and Jesuits appealed to St. Augustine and St. Thomas. "Among the more modern Doctors, St. Alphonsus de' Liguori is cited for a modified version of the Augustinian theory; and St. Robert Bellarmine for the Jesuits. According to Von Pastor, St. Francis de Sales declared, in a memo-randum written for Pope Paul V, "that on the whole he shared the view of the Jesuits; and he added that he had made an exhaustive study of the subject, and that he saw considerable difficulties in either opinion, He did not think the time had come for deciding a question on which so many able scholars were unable to agree." (History oF the Popes, XXV, 240.) These facts concerning the controversy on grace are given, not with any intention of arguing such a matter in these pages, but simply to show that, if Father Garrigou-Lagrange's teaching on the gifts is logically involved in this highly disputed sub-ject, surely it cannot be called certain. Father Hughes writes: "Many Dominican theologians are cited as recognizing a controversy upon the matter [of the gifts], but the conclusions of each do not seem worthyof mention by Father Ellard" (p. 82). In the writings referred to I have not noticed any con-clusions contradictory either to the statements quoted from them or to the proposition in substantiation of which the citations were made. If Father Hughes should point out any such conclusion, I shall be glad to acknowledge it. Of course the same five theologians can be quoted in favor of the Thomistic theory of the gifts, and two of them for the certainty of it, for example, Gardeil in th~ Dictionnaire de Theolo~Tie, IV-2, 1776, 1777, and Garrigou-Lagrange himself, in PerFection Chretienne et Contemplation, II, [88-91]; neverthe-less, they witness the fact of disagreement among theologians and admit that others do not share their own view. Secondly, I said of The Three Aoes that it is one-sided and nar-row. Father Hughes replies that it is in accord, if not with lesser lights, at least with St. John of the Cross, the great and ultimate 92 March, 1950 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY (relative) norm in this matter. But the same agreement is claimed by other authors also, among them tw6 Carmelite spokesmen. In other words, there is more than one interpretation of St. John among orthodox Catholics. ."But Father Garrigou-Lagrange has the right one." Perhaps he has; but we might be better, convinced if he would give us a chance to judge for ourselves. Could he not at least give us fair notice of dissenting opinions?. A fresh sample of div.ergenc~ is furnished by Father Gabriel of St. Mar.y Magdalen in his new book, St. Teresa o~: desus. Although he writes, "'For all that, it can be shown in fact that this teaching of the Teresian school is not irreconcilable with the modern Thomist synthesis of the spiritual life" (p. 44), yet repeatedly throughout - the book he contradicts Father Garrigou-Lagrange on the necessity of infused contemplation. The first point in my criticism reads: "'Tile Three Ages is theo-retical rather than practical." Of all, this was the least important, especially as instruction and inspiration are also in their own way most practical. Father Hughes objects: "The method of The Three Ages cannot rather 'stress theory than practice' if its principal excel-lence is 'its inspirational value,' and if 'a reader feels his heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled.' " Why not? In this respect the work resembles treatises on dogmatic theology which are preoccu-pied with doctrine rather than practice and which can at least be bigh.~y inspiring. Again my critic writes: The book "can scarcely be labeled as more given to 'metaphysics than psychology' when the author keeps reminding his readers of the grand" dogmas of Christianity, their 'infinite elevation,' their implications for our 'affective and practical lives.' " The answer is. simple. When a book contains dogmatic, metaphysical, and psychological elements, why cannot it accentuate them in just that order? As a matter of fact, The Three Ages does. I cannot imagine how Father Hughes can say: "In the case of mental prayer, concrete details appeal to Father Ellard as the source of certitude." My final contention was that the main thesis of The Three A~Tes, namely, that infused contemplation comes within the normal devel-opment of the interior life, is not after all very significant. It would be pregnant with meaning and significance if according to the mind of its author it were intended to im'ply that mystical contemplation in the full and obvious sense as described by St. Teresa in The 93 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY Review/or Religious Interior Castle is normally to be expected. St. Teresa's terminology is used and one anticipates sbmething very wonderful. But then one finds out that only "what is essential" is promised us, and that seems much less indeed. Such language is surely apt to deceive the less wary. On this point, the climax of everything, Father Hughes has sur-prisingly little. I was careful not to deny the thesis of the nor-mality of mystical contemplation, or the unity of the interior life, or even to call them in question, except insofar as the thesis is pre-sented as a corollary from the theory of the gifts. Of course I am not suggesting that the tiniest bit of infused con-templation is not a most precious grace. It is, by all means. Rather, the question is whether the mysticism which Father Garrigou- Lagra~nge holds out in prospect for us is the same as the substantive sublime graces depicted in St. Teresa's Mansions and in St. 3ohn's Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame. It seems highly fitting that I should add a word on two personal references that some readers will resent. I used a quotation in which Scotus was called '~the Subtle Doctor." There appears to be no reason for the depreciatory language which my critic uses. Scotus was one of the most influential of all Scholastic philosophers and theologians; for centuries innumerable times he has been referred to as "the Subtle Doctor" in more or less the same way that St. Thomas is termed "the Angelic Doctor." There was no suggestion at all that he is a Doctor of the Church; yet he is great enough to have been the theologian to whom above all others under the providence of God the Church owes the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Likewise it seems inexplicable that Poulain, the author of The Graces of Interior Prayer, A Treatise on Mystical Theology, should be referred to with these words: "apparently not a theologian, how-ever proficient a psychologist" (p. 89). True, Poulain was not a dogmatic theologian, and his design in writing on mystical the-ology was different from that of Father Garrigou-Lagrange, but his work is in certain respects, especially for an account of the facts of mysticism and for practical help in direction, of first-class worth and thus far unsurpassed. To conclude: if I am right in taking Father Hughes to mean that the doctrine of the gifts is to be considered certain only in a relative and limited sense, and not with the obvious and proper force of that term, then on the'chief point we are in agreement. If not, I would 94 March, 19 5 0 COMMUNICATIONS say to readers who have followed this criticism 'and countercriticism, especially if they have actually read The Three Ages, andpr.eferably against the background of Saints Teresa and 3ohn of the Cross: "I speak to men of reflection; judge for yourselves of what I say" (I Cor. 10:lS).--G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. ommun{caldons Reverend Fathers: A few years ago in an issue of Emmanuel the reviewer of one of the books of Father Garrigou-Lagrange expressed his doubt of the truth of the characteristic doctrines of that eminent theologian, at the same time stating his hope that a more thorough criticism would be made in a lengthier review. That same doubt and hope have been felt by many who read Christian Perfection and Contemplation and The Three Ages of the Interior Life. In those works the views of the author on some points of dogmatic and of mystical theology were stated in such a way that the reader if not versed in these matters would conclude that these particular views are not seriously disputed by competent Catholic theologians. But they are disputed, and to bring out this fact, as Father Ellard has done in his review of The Three Ages of the Interior Life in your November, 1949, issue, is to render a real service to the reader of these valuable spiritual books. The truth that some of Father (3arrigou-Lagrange's theories are disputed, and are not part of Cath-olic doctrine nor the unanimous opinions of theologians will not hurt anyone. Veritas vos liberabit. In emphasizing the disputed character of .these opinions of the gifted.writer, it is not intended in any way, I am sure, to imply that he has deliberately misled his readers. But Father Garrigou-Lagrange has led the majo.r portion of his life in the midst of skilled theo-logians. He naturally and unconsciously keeps them in mind as he writes. Yet what he writes is being read by many who are n~;t versed in even the fundamentals of theology and who consequently may easily be misle.d by his statement, of his positions. For the general public a clearer statement of what is general Catholic doctrine and what. is not, is certainly desirable. May I add a personal note? After some experience in directing 95 SUMMER SESSIONS ReVietO [or Religi,,os souls who have undoubtedly received the gift of infused contempla-tion, I find it difficult.to believe that Father Garrigou-Lagrange has any real concept, of infused contemplation at all. Everything he writes leads me to believe that he is really thinking and speaking of that prayer which is variously called "acquired contemplation," "the prayer of ~implicity," etc. There is an essential distinction between this simplification of discursive prayer and infused contemplation; and that distinction, I believe, cannot be understood merely from ¯ reading the works of mystical writers or theologians. I thoroughly agree with the Benedictine' who said 'that "the conception that St. John of the Cross had of mysticism and contemplation entirely escaped" the gifted author of Tile Three Ages. No harm can come from giving testimony to the inexactitude of Father Garrigou-Lagrange's distinction between Catholic doctrine and the theories of certain theologians; nor to the incorrectness of his understanding of the fundamental nature of infused contempla-tion.-- A SECULAR PRIEST. [EDITORS' NOTE: Further communications concerning Father Ellard's appraisal.of The Three Ages will be acgepted. These communications should be kept as brief as the subject-matter permits. If at all possible, they should be neatly typed, double-spaced, with generous margin. The sender should sign his name; and the name will be printed unless the content is of a personal nature.] SUMMER SESSION The Plus X School of Liturgical Music, founded by the late Mother Georgia Stevens, will conduct its Thirty-Fourth Summer Session: June 29-Augtist 10. Registration is open to men and women, whether as students matriculated for the B.A. or B.Mus., degrees, or as non-matriculated students; resident and non-resident. Courses will be offered in Gregorian Chant, Gregorian Accompaniment, Con-ducting, Polyphony, Liturgical Singing, Vocal Production, History of Music, Keyboard Harmony,. Music Education, Counterpoint, .etc. Members of the Staff have been long trained in the traditions of Solesmes and have national and international pedagogical experience and recognition. Private lessons in organ, piano, and singing may be procured. Membership is held by the School in the National Association of Schools of Music and it enjoys the official approval of the most eminent music organizations. According to a long-established custom there will be lectures by prominent musicologists and the usual s, eries of weekly concerts. Students will be given the opportunity of~active particip.ation in the Liturgy by the congrega- 96 March, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS tional singing of Holy Mass, Vespers, Compline, and Benediction. The Very Reverend Monsignor Frederic Teller, D.D., Ph.D.,C.G.M. will teach some courses. The Ve.ry Reverend Monsignor Martin B. Hellriegel, of the Church of the Holy Cross, St. Louis, Mo., and the Reverend 3ohn 3. Dougherty, S.T.L.,S.S.D. of the Immaculate Con-ception Seminary, D~rlington, N. 3, will give daily lectures on the Liturgy throughout the Session. For further information write to: Mother Aileen Cohalan, Director, Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart, New York 27, New York. Book Reviews THE MOTHER OF THE SAVIOR AND OUR INTERIOR LIFE. By Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Pp. 338. B. Herder Book C;o., St. Lou~s, M~ssourL $4.00. The theological and d~votional literature about the Blessed Virgin is so extensive that .a new synthesis by a capable author is highly welcome: Father Garrigou-Eagrange published such a syn-thesis in 1941 (reprinted in 1948). The present translation from thd French makes his book available for the la.rge number of readers who have come to value his works in English versions. The book is divided into two parts. The first part, on "The Divine Maternity and the Plenitude of Grace," is doctrinal. It aims at imparting knowledge about Our Lady and her unique position, in subordination to her divine Son, at the very summit of creation and the supernatural order. The pre-eminence of the divine mater-nity, which dominates all Mariology as the source and end of all Mary's great gifts, is very clearly brought out. Here and there a line of reasoning is pursued that is not very convincing: but strictly theo-logical procedures are hardly to be expected in a work that is more devotional in spirit than scientific. The second part, on "Mary, Mother of all Men: Her Universal Mediation and our Interior Life," demonstrates Mary's activity in the plan of redemption and the important causality she exercises in our salvation and sanctification. In view of the character of the volume, the author has wisely refrained from entering into the contemporary debate among theo-logians on the precise meaning and function of Mary as co-redemp- 97 BOOK R~VlEWS Review [or Religious trix, contenting himself with general expressions that should prove acceptable to all parties in the controversy. The main source for the theological presentation is Merkelbach's well-known Mariologia. But the Fathers, the great Scholastics and their later successors, spiritual writers, orators, and Popes are called upon to yield up their treasures. Many gems have been contributed by Saints Ambrose, Sophronius, Andrew of Crete, Ephrem, and Peter Damien. Saints Bernard, Albert the Great, Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Alphonsus, Grignon de Montfort, and Francis de Sales have all offered their riches. Suarez, Terrien, Dublanchy, le Bachelet, and Hugon have generously thrown open their books. And these great names represent but a sampling of the numerous sources consulted and utilized. The encyclicals of Popes Leo XIII, Pius X, Benedict XV, and Plus XI manifest the mind of the Church on recent Mariological doctrine. The Polish Dominican, Justin of Mi~chow, provides the inspiration for one of the finest chapters in the book, "Special Aspects of Mary's Queenship." The article on the Rosary sheds fresh light on that welt-loved devotion, and sug-gests a way of practicing it that will be profitable to all Catholics. The translator has done his part admirably. Comparison with the French edition shows how faithful Father Kelly has been to the orig!nal. If we did not know that the English edition is a transla-tion, we could hardly guess that fact from reading the book. And that is the supreme criterion of the translator's success. CYRIL VOLLERT, S.J. IGNATIAN METHODS OF PRAYER. By Alexandre Brou, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. xl ~ 203. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1949. $3.00. The aim of this book is very clearly stated by the author when he tells us that he set out to discover "what exactly did St. Ignatius want to say, and what did he say" on the subject of prayer. The word "discover" is used purposely, for the many commentators on St. Ignatius have not always clarified his thought nor passed it on unadulterated to their readers. Father Brou observes: "Now it some-times happens that with'the best intentions in the World his thought has been misunderstood. Authors . . . have viewed the teachings of the Saint through a mist of commentary, and a commentator never fails to add something to his text" (p. vii). Father Brou gdes back to sdurces, the text of the Spiritual Exer-cises, and he interprets them in the light of Stl Ignatius' personal March, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS letters, supplementing his findings with. the writings of intimate con-temporaries of the Saint--St. Francis Xavier, Blessed Peter Faber, Father Nadal--to mention but three. The work is divided into four main divisions. In the first St. Ignatius' teaching on prayer and the interior life, the ,relation of prayer to the apostolate, seeking God in all things, the presence of God, and finally mystical prayer are treated. The second and third parts are devoted to the preparations for prayer and the so-called methods of prayer respectively, while the fourth part treats the coun-sels for the time during and after prayer, and tl~e rules for the dis-cernment of spirits. Two features of the teachin'g of.St. Ignatius as presented in this book are noteworthy. First is the continuity ot: practically every portion of the Ignatian teaching with a tradition of Catholic spirit-uality which he both inherited and developed into the forms found in the Exercises. The other is what we might call the compatibility of high prayer with the active life of the apostolate. Great mystic ¯ that he was, SI~. Ignatius was eminently a man of the active aposto-late, what we would call nowadays a man of affairs. He conceived the man of affairs as a man of prayer, and a life of prayer as not at all incompatible with a full daily schedule. "To St. Francis Borgia he asserts that it is more perfect to be able to find God everywhere and in all things than to have need of an oratory and long prayers to enter into union with Him" (p. 39). The book combines the excellent qualities of thoroughness and brevity. It can be r~ad and reread with profit.--T. L. McNAIR, S.J. LITTLE CATECHISM OF PRAYER. By Father Gabr;el of St. Mary Mag-dalen, O.C.D. Transla÷ed by ÷he Discalced Carmelite Nuns. Pp. 44. Monastery of Discalced Carmelites, Concord, New Hampshire, 1949. $.2S (paper). People in general who cultivate mental prayer and v.ery particu-larly all those who would like to practice it in the spirit and after the manner of the Carmelites, traditional leaders in matters of the contemplative life, will welcome this Little Catechism. In six chap-ters and eighty-nine questions it introduces one to "prayer in the contemplative life," "the methbd of mental prayer," "preparation and reading," "meditation and colloquy," "difficulties in prayer," and "the presence of God." There is nothing theoretical or learned or meticulously precise about it. Evidently it is meant, as its title suggests, to be a simple and practical primer. On the other hand 99 BOOK NOTICES Review for Religious there "are thoughts in it which would be helpful and inspiring, I should say, to almost anyone, even tb contemplatives far advanced in the ways of prayer and sanctity. For instance, from the very first page one might learn this distinction between the Christian life and the contemplative life: the good Christian "lives /:or God," whereas the contemplative soul "lives not only for God, but also with God." Likewise it is emphasized at the very beginning in a quotation from St. Teresa that to reach the higher degrees of prayer one must per-force add the practice of mortification, "because prayer and comfort do not go together."--G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.,J. BOOK NOTICES BLESSED MARIA GORETTI: Martyr for Purity, by 3ohn Cart, C.SS.R., is an admirable life of the twentieth-century martyr whom the Holy Father intends to canonize in the course of the present holy year. Blessed Maria sets an ideal before modern youth who live in an atmosphere so perilous to purity. (Dublin: Clonmore ~ Reynolds, Ltd., 1949. Pp. 70. 3/6.) Father Louis I. Fanfani, O.P., an outstanding modern canonist, has published a third edition of DE IURE RELIGIOSORUM. While keeping all the good qualities of previous editions, the book has been brought up to date and considerably increased in volume. A separate chapter is devoted to the newly established Secular Institutes. Four important documents are added by way of appendices: I. The new Norrnae of 1921; II. Letter of the Sacred Congregation of. Religious of 1931 on the formation and training of religi6us for sacred orders; III. Instruction on the enclosure of nuns with solemn vows issued in 1924; and, IV. The Statutes for Extert~ Sisters of monasteries of nuns, approved by Pope Pius XI in 1929 an'd published by the Sacred Congregation of Religious two years later. These documents are given in the original Latin text. (Rovigo, Italy: .Istituto Padano di Arti Grafiche, 1949. Pp. xxxi + 810. L. 2000.) OUR ETERNAL VOCATION, written anonymously by a Carmelite nun in England, is intended for all, priests, religious, or laity, who are interested in attaining higher sanctity. Of its three main sections, the first treats of sanctity in gener.al, its meaning, its instruments, its fruits (pp. 9-135). The second is concerned with religious voca-tion in particular (pp. 135-177). The last tells about the sanctity and mission of St. Therese of Lisieux (pp. 177-207). The doctrine seems to be solid throughout and Jr'is presented palatably by a crisp style tinged With feeling and garnished with 100 March, 195 0 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS striking illustrations. The book contains some shrewd psychology on the value of sincerity in attaining holiness, on methods of over-coming mental depression, on the natural requisites for a religious vocation. As might be expected, the author emphasizes the "Iittle way" of St. Therese, but she does not derogate from other methods of acquiring sanctity. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1949. Pp. 207, $2.25.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [These notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory examination of the books listed. Some of the books will be reviewed or will be given longer notices later. The list is complete up to Feb. 10.] CARMELITE THIRD'ORDER PRESS, 6427 Woodlawn Avenue, Chi-. cago 37. Take This Scapulart. By Carmelite Fathers and Tertiaries. Pp. 270. $2.50. Unfolds the story of Our Lady's Scapular. FRANCISCAN HERALD PRESS, 1434 W. 51st Street, Chicago. Tertiar~ Office of the Parers. Pp. 103. $.50 (30% discount for orders of 25 or more). A vest-pocket booklet of aids in reciting the office prepared especially for members of the Third Order of St. Francis. Also contains the Seraphic Office, the Office of the Pas-sion, and the Franciscan Tertiary Office with reflections. M. H. GILL ~ SON, Ltd., 50 Upper O'Connell Street, Dublin. Fair as the Moon. By Father M. Oliver, O.Cist.R. Pp. xi -b 235. 12s. 6d. A portrait of Mary, the Mother of God and "Purest of Creatures." Catherine McAule~I: The First Sister of Mercy. Pp. x ÷ 434. 15/-. "This book, the fruit of considerable research, is based largely on hitherto unpublished document's, and throws fresh light on Cath-erine McAuley's life and work." [5. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis 2, Missouri. Ps~/cbiatq/and Asceticism. By Felix D. Duffey, C.S.C. Pp. 132. $2.00. True Stories for First Communicants. Pp. 80. $1.25. First Communion Davis. Pp. 96. $1.25. Both by a Sister of Notre Dame. True stories which should help children in preparing for their first Communion and after. The books were first printed in 1919 and 1920 respectively. The Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Two volumes. By Maurice 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS for Religiou* Meschler, S.J. Pp. xxii q-- 545 arid viii -b 551. $12.00 (set). Translated by Sister Mary Margaret, O.S.B. This is the fifth edi-tion of the author's well-known meditations on the life of Christ. LEMOYNE COLLEGE PRESS, LeMoyne Heights, Syracuse 3, New York. Inigo de Logola. By Pedro Leturia, S.J. Pp. xiii + 209. $4.50. The story of the early life of St. Ignatius up to and including his conversion. LIBRERIA FRANCESCO FERRARI, Via dei Cestari, 2, Kome, Italy. Manuale Tbeorico-Practicurn Tbeologiae Moralis ad Mentern D. Thomae. By Father Louis J. Fanfani, O.P. Pp. xix + 648. This is the first of a set of three volumes. It treats of man's last end, human acts, laws, conscience, the virtues, sins, and censures. It is planned to complete the set within the course of the year. LITURGICAL PRESS, St. John's Abbey, Collegeville, Minnesota. Life. and Miracles of St. Benedict. By Pope St. Gregory the Great. Translated by Odo J. Zimmermann, O.S.B., and Benedict R.Avery, O.S.B. Pp. xv q- 87. $2.00 (cloth); $.90 (paper). A translation of Book Two of the Dialogues of St. GregorY. MCLAUGHLIN ~ REILLY, 45 Franklin Street, Boston 10. When the People Sang. By Marie Pierik. Pp. 32. $.50 (paper). "A simple treatise on the Gregorian Chant, its history and use." NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Treatise on Prager and Meditation. By St. Peter of Alcantara. Translated by Dominic Devas, O.F.M. Pp. xx ÷ 211. $2.50. Besides this classic treatise on prayer, the book contains an introdtic-tion and sketch of the saint's life and a complete English version of Pax Anirnae, a treatise formerly attributed to the saint. The Spiritual Life of the Priest. By M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.R. Pp. 161. $2.50. A reprint of a series of articles which first appeared in the pages of The Priest. The Holg Year of Jubilee. By Herbert Thurston, S.J. Pp. xxiv -[- 420. $4.25. An account of the history and ceremonial of the Roman jubilee. Contains many illustrations. First printed in 1900. The Wag of Divine Love. Pp. xxxvii q- 532. $4.25. A com-plete account of the revelations of the Sacred Heart as made to Sister Josefa Menendez, Coadjutrix Sister of the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. There is also a short biography of the Sister and an analytical index. 102 March, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Purgatorg and the Means to AvoidIt. By Martin Jugie, A.A. Pp. 203. $3.25. A doctrinal and devotional treatment of a subject that is of interest to all. The book is translated from the seventh French edition by Malachy Gerard Carroll. The Life and Revelations of Saint Gertrude: Virgin and Abbess, of the Order of St. Benedict. Pp. xlv + 570. $4.00. A reprinting of an old favorite which first appeared some eighty years ago. Prager for All Times. By Pierre Charles, S.J. Translated by Maud Monahan. Foreword by C. C. Martindale, S.J. Pp. 328. $3,50. A book on prayer designed "to mak~ smooth the ways of the spirit and to unfold the eternal message of the nearness of God." Little Catechism of the Act of Oblation of St. Th~r~se of the Child Jesus. By the Carmelites of Lisieux. Translated by Rev. Mi-chael Collins, A.M. Pp. 22. $.25. PROVINCE OF ST. JOSEPH OF THE CAPUCHIN ORDER, 1740 Mt. EI-liott Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. Meditations: Volume I: Advent to Ash Wednesday. By Bernar-dine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap. Translated from the German by Berch- "mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. 537. $3.50 (paper). ST. CATHARINE JUNIOR COLLEGE LIBRARY, St. Catharine, Ken-tucky. The Catholic Booklist 1950. Edited by Sister SteIla Marls, O.P., for the Catholic Library Association. Pp. 74. $.65 (paper). "An annotated bibliography, for the most part Catholic in authorship or subject matter, chosen as a guide to the recreational and instructional reading of Catholics." UNIVERSITY OF NOTRE DAME PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Christfan Vfrtues. By Charles E. Sheedy, C.S.C. Pp. xi q- 361. $3.00. A book on moral theology for college students and lay readers. God and the World of Man. By Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. Pp. viii -}- 318. $3.00. A theological text for the layman. Treat-ises on faith, God, the Trinity, creation, the elevation and fall of .man, the end of the world and man. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York 7. --Must It be Communism? By Augustine J. Osgniach, O.S.B. Pp. x -]- 486. A philosophical inquiry into the major issues of today. The last three chapters are by Jerome L. Toner, O.S.B. 103 .uestdons and Answers We have an application from a woman who has obtained a permanent separation from her husband and now wishes to try out the religious llfe. Creusen, ReBgious Men and H/omen ~n the Code, p. 135, states: "A wife abandoned by her husband., does not need his consent to enter, rell-gion. One may see in R.C.R., 1939, under what conditions her entry into religion may be obtained." Please tell us what R.C.R. stands for, and, if convenient, give us a summary of the conditions referred to. R.C.R. refers to a review for religious published in Belgium by Father Creusen and his associates under the title Reoue des Commun-autos Religieuses (53 rue Royale, Brussels, Belgium). Here is a sum-mary of what Father Creusen wrote in the answer referred to. (1) The aspirant must not have been in any way the gravely culpable cause of the separation. (2) There must be moral certitude that she cannot be forced legally to abandon the religious life in order to resume married life. A civil divorce is the best guarantee. (For this the bishop's permission should be obtained.) (3) If the appli-cant has children, their care and support will have to be guar~inteed. (4) The superior of an institute or monastery who is willing to accept her on trial must be convinced that she has an extraordinary vocation and that there are particular reasons to anticipate her perse-verance. If all these conditions are fulfilled, the person in question may appeal to the Holy See for the necessary dispensation. She should do so personally. To this personal appeal a letter of recommenda-tion from her bishop should be added. This recommendation should be given at least regarding the good character of the person, even though the bishop does not wish to support her application for the dispensation. Finally, a letter from the religious superior who is willing to accept the candidate, stating that she believes the applicant to have an extraordinary vocation and that the community is willing to receive her on trial, will complete the official documents required. A baptismal certificate of the applicant and a copy of the decree of civil divorce ~hould be sent along with the other documents. Father Creusen concludes his answer with the following para-graph: "It must be added that the Holy See shows itself very prudent and very reserved in granting this dispensation. The utmost good will in the beginning is far, it seems, from guaranteeing perseverance 104 QuEs-r~o~s ~no ANswrRs in vocations of this kind. It is useless to encourage the application without exceptional reasons." Canon law cjrants to superiors the rlgttf #o extend: (I) the posfulancy, but not beyond six months (canon 539, § 2); (2) the time of the novif~ofe, but not beyond six months {canon 571, § 2); (3~ the period of temporary vows, but

Issue 55.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1996. ; fo r reli ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER3 Revtew fo~r .Reli~tous tS a ~orum fo~r Shared reflection on the~ liVed :experie~ice @ all Who find that :the~.churCb's~ rico bemtaffes ~o~ ,sptntuaht~ "sul~OOrt the~r pdrsonal: ~a~d: apostoli~ :~e~a~cles ~tn the~jou~al are ;meant ~to~ ~e t~foNat~ve~ :~radt~dal~.~o~ in~p~at~nal, wH~en~om a th~lO~ic~l or so~nmt or:somenmes mnontcat oo~nt ot vtew,~ , : Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthlv 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 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP St. Bernadette Convent ¯ 76 Universit3, Blvd. East ¯ Silver Spring, MD 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for 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. 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 TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chris~ar~ ]~er~tages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME 55 ¯ NUMBER 3 230 The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives John A. Gallagher develops some implications of the ecclesiology underlying the mission, governance, and partnership found in Catholic healthcare services. 249 264 Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets Fire for Mission George Aschenbrenner SJ develops a spirituality of abandonment as central to the stability and identity of a religious congregation in respect to its mission, community, authority, and obedience. Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN explores obedience as affective bonding and the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and ecclesially. Review for Religious 283 297 Acknowledging the Gift of Gay Priestly Celibacy William McDonough presents a case for the timeliness of acknowledging the homosexual orientation of gay celibate priests as a gift to the church. HIV Testing of Seminary and Religious-Order Candidates James F. Keenan SJ reviews reasons for and against HIV testing for priesthood and religious-life candidates and suggests some ethical standards that need to be observed. 315 A Call for a Bespoke Revival of a Hijacked Tradition Bertrand Webster FMS suggests a number of ways to update our use of the rosary for both individual and communal devotion. ,~ 228 Prisms 320 Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Historical Background 326 Book Reviews May-3~ene 1996 prisms Nostalgia becomes a fitti'ng characteristic of the poet Homer's Odysseus--in the midst of all his travels and adventures he is driven by an aching desire to return to his island home and his wife, Penelope. A contemporary dictionary builds upon the original Greek root of nostalgia, expanding its meaning from a home-sickness to the wistful and sometimes abnormal yearning for a return to some fondly remembered season of life or an unrepeatable dream. It seems to be natural for many of us to harbor a certain nostalgia for the past--either what we have experienced or, perhaps, what we have only read or heard about. Movies or television docudramas are often quite suc-cessful in evoking an appreciation of a past with a sim-pler lifestyle or less complicated human relationships. Even reading the Gospels can sometimes lead us to express the wish that we "could have lived at the time of Jesus." The nostalgia to have been among the crowd listening to Jesus speaking out the beatitudes or among the thousands fed by Jesus' miracle of the loaves and fishes receives a rude awakening when we realize that, likely enough, we would have been among those who walked away and went about their ordinary duties of life. In our daily examen of consciousness, we find that we ignore and walk away even now from the many Christs who enter our day. The church of the 13th and 14th centuries--the peak-ing of scholastic theological developments--was in fer-ment from the press of many ideas. The controversies which resulted were often worked through over long peri-ods in a debate form called quaestiones disputatae (disputed questions). The question was a technique to explore the Review for Religious writings of authorities in conflict and the process of conflicting argumentation. Today we sometimes get glimpses of this method in writings found in the medical and health-science fields. Although we may unconsciously idealize the civility of these olden theological discussions, perhaps without too much nostalgia we can appreciate an inquiring drive toward new understanding that is often missing from church life today. Maybe, with computer knowledge banks and television soundbite news, we all have become impatient with debate and discussion; we want only answers and truths and none of the messiness of living with our own responsible choice among some merely provisional under-standings available to us. God's revelation finds its fulfillment in Christ; yet even if revealed truth is complete, it remains for Christian faith to grasp its full significance over the course of centuries. Since the truth of the church's witness is still human truth, we need to ask ourselves the question: Should we not expect disputes and controversies in our theological developments and pastoral practices just as there are in other human disciplines? Consecrated life in the life of the church is not disputed, but how it fits within church structure, what new forms it takes along-side older ones, how to work out the relationship of religious superiors and bishops, and what roles consecrated life plays within the local church are some of the ongoing questions addressed in Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation under date of 25 March 1996. The letter is the pope's reflections on the October 1994 Synod of Bishops on the consecrated life and its mission in the church and in the world. The pope's letter brings a closure to the synod and at the same time opens out its workings into the future. As one. who exhorts, the pope sees the questions around conse-crated life as reason to commit ourselves with fresh enthusiasm. He sees that the church stands in need of the spiritual and apos-tolic contribution of a renewed and revitalized consecrated life. As a resource for continuing this discussion about consecrated life, a new book, The Church and Consecrated Life, is being pub-lished by Review for Religious. The book includes a review of the official church documents on consecrated life since, Vatican a number of exploratory articles, and the pope's apostolic exhor-tation. The book is available from our St. Louis office; the cost is $20 which includes postage and handling. David L. Fleming SJ May-J, ote 1996 JOHN A. GALLAGHER The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives "Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services" has been published now for about a year.' Sponsors (religious institutes, commonly), board mem-bers, and managers of Catholic healthcare organizations have had the time to reflect upon this new promulgation of directives. What new elements do they find? What will they need to assimilate into their decision-making pro-cesses and their Catholic healthcare operations in order to respond appropriately to this teaching of the American bishops? Interestingly, what is most innovative in this set of directives and most clearly different from the 1971 set is not new or more nuanced ethical teaching. Most of the individual directives are unchanged or only minimally changed. Afterations in specific ethical directives are attributable to statements from the Roman curia (for example, the responsum on uterine isolation) and to changes in the healthcare delivery system in the United States (see Part 6, Forming New Partnerships with Health Care Organizations and Providers). Perhaps the most provoca-tive ethical change can be found in Directive 57, which asserts that "excessive expense [to] the family or the com-munity" can render a life-prolonging intervention an "extraordinary" means and thus a morally optional one. The addition of "community" to the classic definition of John A. Gallagher is director for corporate ethics for the Holy Crbss Health System. His address is 3606 East Jefferson Boulevard; South Bend, Indiana 46115. Review for Religious what constitutes an extraordinary means of prolonging life will probably become controversial in a healthcare system increas-ingly dominated by managed care. What is more distinctly new in the 1994 "Directives" is the ecclesiology that can be perceived as a consistent undercurrent throughout the document. Ecclesiology is the theological disci-pline that attempts to understand what the church is, how it is related to the wider world, and how persons within the church (clergy, religious, laity) are related to one another and the church as a whole; "Directives" is not a treatise on the church. But it is concerned to identify the mission of Catholic healthcare within the mission of the church as a whole, to outline a governance structure for Catholic healthcare vis-~l-vis the local ordinary, and to set limits to cooperative arrangements between Catholic health organizations and healthcare providers daat are not Catholic. This underlying ecclesiology constitutes the truly innovative aspect of "Directives." This inchoate episcopal teaching merits serious the-ological consideration by the sponsors and leaders of Catholic healthcare. TheMission of Catholic Healthcare and the Church's Mission How convenient it would be to begin with a definition of church. But mysteries are not readily captured in crisp definitions. Theologians have contented themselves with speaking of the marks or characteristics of the church (one, holy, catholic, apos-tolic). The fathers of Vatican Council II frequently employed analogies from Scripture to provide clarification concerning the nature of the church. The closest they came to a definition was to assert, in Lumen gentium, that the church is the visible sacrament of the saving unity offered to people through the redemptive work of Christ (LG §9). In his masterful Models of the Church, Avery Dulles SJ pro-posed five models, analogies which enable some further under-standing of the mystery of the church? These models are derived from ecclesiologies developed by various theologians to portray what they believed to be the essential characteristic of the church. The models describe the church as institution, mystical commu-nion, sacrament, herald, and servant. Dulles's argument is that, though the church is no one of these models, its identity can be May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives partially clarified through reflection upon each of them. In a sub-sequent edition Dulles added a sixth model, the church as a com-munity of disciples, to emphasize the inherent cohesiveness and unity among the models and indeed of the church itself. The mission of the church pertains to its activities as a "fel-lowship of life, charity, and truth" founded by Christ to be his "instrument for the redemption of all" (LG §9; see also Ad gentes §5). Note that the mission of the church is simply another man-ner of speaking about what the church is; "mission" is a clarifi-cation, not the addition of some further information. The church is its mission. To assert that the church is "visible sacrament" is to clarify both what the church is and what it does. So with each of Dulles's models: they portray not only what the church is, but also what it does. The church is an institution, and many of its activities result from the fact that it has social, legal, and hierar-chical structures. The church is a mystical communion which unites those who are within it and identifies its relationship with other religious groups. The church as sacrament is the visible symbol of the redemptive work of Christ; its activities are symbols having their effect in the world today. The church as herald pro-claims Jesus' redeeming gospel. The church as servant extends its witness into the secular world. The mission of Catholic healthcare is but one manifestation of the mission of the church as a whole; it partakes in that visible sacrament of redemption, in that mystery which is the church's very being. The mission of the church is manifested also in Catholic parochial life, in education, and in various charitable enterprises. The healing mission of Jesus, "Directives" asserts, touches all of Catholic healthcare: The mystery of Christ casts light on every facet of Catholic healthcare: to see Christian love as the animating princi-ple of healthcare; to see healing and compassion as a con-tinuation of Christ's mission; to see suffering as a participation in the redemptive power of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection; and to see death, transformed by the resurrection, as an opportunity for a final act of com-munion with Christ. ("Directives" booklet, p. 6) Thus, Catholic healthcare is a particular specification of the mission of the church itself. As the documefits of Vatican II say with regard to missionary endeavors, so also with regard to Catholic healthcare, "the differences to be found in this activity Review for Religious of the church do not result from the inner nature of her mission itself, but are due rather to the circumstances in which this mis-sion is exercised" (AG §6). "Directives" (p. 1) indicates that a major reason why a revision was needed was developments within the church: changes in reli-gious orders and congregations, the increased involvement of lay men and women, a heightened awareness of the church's social role in the world, and developments in moral theology. Another major reason was the reconfiguration of the American healthcare system. The acute-care hospital and the long-term- care facility, the two places where most Catholic healthcare has been provided, are being incorporated nowadays into integrated delivery systems. Catholic healthcare organi-zations are b.ecoming owners or partners of these systems or are providing services within them and thus are assuming some fundamen-tally new obligations. Accordingly it became necessary to reflect anew on Catholic health-care's mission. But why explicitly? With Catholic health-care now consisting of myriad structures and organizations by which an array of healthcare services is provided to individual persons and communities, what the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry" (p. 2). The healthcare ministry has always been manifested in the activities of physicians and nurses, orderlies and aides; women and men dedicated to care of the poor, the dying, the homeless. This ministry was in part animated by people's desire to mirror the healing mission of Jesus. In the United States, Catholic healthcare ministry has, along with the witness of these many individuals, also been closely identified with the healthcare institutions that many religious congregations have sponsored and governed. Now, however, as "Directives" notes, lay people are increasingly emerg-ing as the leaders of this ministry. "Directives," which is "con-cerned primarily with institutionally based Catholic healthcare services" (p, 2), is intended to provide a theological basis for con-temporary Catholic healthcare ministry because this ministry must increas.ingly receive its theological impetus from the apos-tolic endeavors of lay people rather than from the church- What the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolog~ of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives approved constitutions and the apostolic vision of sponsoring congregations. This point is crucial for understanding the ecclesiology of "Directives." Catholic healthcare in the United States has almost exclusively been the ministry of religious women. As the number of religious available for the ministry continues to decline, lay women and men, i~acluding indeed a significant number of non- Catholics, have become leaders of the Catholic healthcare min-istry. From the perspective of the mission of the church and the perspective of lay Catholics, this is a major development. Laypersons are now leaders of an institutional Catholic ministry, roles traditionally reserved to clerics and religious. Lay people are no longer at the periphery; no longer just collaborators, they are increasingly the major participants. The laity has always had a role in fulfilling the mission of the church. The apostolate of the laity has generally been construed as bringing the mission of the church into the secular world. Lumen gentium defines the lay apostolate as "a participation in the saving mission of the church itself" and describes the role of the laity as making "the church present and operative in those places and circumstances where only through them can she become the salt of the earth" (§33). The lay apostolate, however, has generally been embodied in the activities of individual Catholic men and women. In their lives of service as doctors, lawyers, judges, and teachers, they concomitantly witnessed to the saving mystery of Christ. They sometimes joined associations of Catholic lawyers or doctors and sometimes taught or practiced in a Catholic college or hospital, but for the most part their apos-tolate was conducted outside an institution officially associated with the mission of the church. If Catholic lay-persons chose to carry out their apostolate in a Catholic school or hospital, it was the priests or religious who were the sponsors and administra-tors. It was the presence of priests and religious that both canon-ically and de facto gave the institution its Catholic identity and its link to themission of the church. ~ Such an understanding of institutions as vehicles for the mis-sion of the church has become codified in canon law. The law strives to assure that the property and financial resources of such institutions will be used e~xclusively for the mission of the church (canon 1254, §2). When a bishop confers Catholic identity on an educational or healthcare institution, he expects that certain obli- Review for Religious gations of faith and administration will be embodied in the life of that organization.3 A Catholic institution ought to carry out its ministry in a manner that reflects the church's understanding of the gospel and the tradition. "Ethical and Religious Directives" is the episcopal effort to delineate at least some aspects of the church's current understanding of the gospel as it relates to the healthcare ministry. What is most innovative about "Directives" is that it acknowl-edges and endorses the leadership role of the laity in these insti-nations. In the past, as lay people participated in the ministry of priests and sisters, they were sometimes encouraged to model their lives on those of religious, to become mem-bers of third orders, in order to enter more fully into the ministry. But now laypersons qua laypersons are becoming the major par-ticipants in this ministry. In line with what Yves Congar OP wrote shortly after World War II, lay people in the American church have now begun to take part "in the hierar-chical apostolate, that is, in that sacred activ-ity., which defines the church's proper task and mission.''4 Thus "Ethical and Religious Directives" announces a significantly new manner in which the ministry of Catholic healthcare will be conducted in the 21 st century. This sort of development is occurring also in other institutional ministries of the church in the United States. The laity are increasingly being recruited into leadership positions on all levels of Catholic education, In a recent address Father Philip Murnion, director of the National Pastoral Life Center, said that "the fuimre of parish ministry, of educatior~, of pastoral care 'and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity."s The laity are fill-ing the vacuum created by the declining numbers of priests and religious active in the church's institutional life~ Therefore, as Ladislas Orsy SJ has recently suggested, the opinions and rec-ommendations of layperson~ will need to be'more fully integrated into institutional decision making within the church.6 If lay people are to constitute the staff and leadership of Catholic healthcare in the 21st century, how is that ministry to be "The future of parish ministry, of education, of pastoral care and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives theologically articulated? At the presenttime, mission statements and core values derived from the constitutions and way of life of the sponsoring congregations have provided the sense of purpose and direction that animates the ministry. But, as sponsorship becomes more tenuous and at some point no longer exists, what will replace it? At that point American Catholic healthcare will be drawn back to its ecclesial roots, to what is common to the founding congregations and to the lay apostolate and to the ministry of healthcare: the mission of the church. How the participants in Catholic healthcarewill articulate the relation between the mis-sion of the church and the ministry of healthcare in 2025 or 2050 lies far beyond the worries of current leaders of Catholic health-care. But it is the duty of those who live in a period of transition like ours to begin to make the theological transitions. Dulles's models, I believe, provide us with theological categories with which to begin such a reflection.7 The church as institution, sacrament, and mystical commu-nion will'always be central to its healthcare ministry because those words describe what the church is, as does the word mission. As an institutional ministry, Catholic healthcare must maintain its link to the church as institution. Catholic healthcare will always be sacramental; it will continue to serve as a symbol of the healing and caring ministry of Christ. The anointing of the sick, the sacra-ment of reconciliation, and especially the Eucharist will continue to be essential in Catholic healthcare's holistic healing ministry. Further, as an institutional ministry staffed by persons of many faiths and providing services to a culturally and religiously diverse population, the Catholic healthcare ministry will continue to be a sign of the church as mystical communion. In, a time of transition such as the present, however, and as "Directives" makes clear, there are dangers in the current envi-ronment which jeopardize this relationship. The three models we have just discussed will not be adequate to describe the Catholic healthcare of the 21st century. As laypersons increas-ingly become the bearers of the ministry of Catholic healthcare, it is the herald and servant models of the church that will best correspond to Catholic healthcare's activities. The servant model construes the church's activities in a sec-ular- dialogic model, "secular, because the church takes the world as a properly theological locus, and seeks to discern the signs of Review for Religiotts the times; dialogic, because it seeks to operate on the frontier between the contemporary world and the Christian tradition.''8 Patient care, relations with collaborators and other providers, and the governance and management of multibillion-dollar corpora-tions will increasingly draw the healthcare ministry into a world with which it can never be truly at ease and which it cannot con-trol; but it is the world in which the healthcare ministry will make present the saving mystery of Christ. Will Catholic healthcare as servant be able to have signifi-cant influence on the business and medical spheres which will shape its institutional presence in the world? The values of med-ical science and of business and the manner in which they affect the lives of individual persons and communities will be the socio-cultural matrix which the church as servant will seek to influence. The servant model directs the ministry of laypersons where it has traditionally been done, the secular world. But the lay people enter this world no longer as individuals, but with the collective power, influence, and responsibility associated with the leader-ship of an institutional ministry. The church as herald is, in a sense, the counterpart of the church as servant, The latter seeks to engage the secular world, to bring about at least a partial recognition of the human signifi-cance of gospel values. The church as herald, on the o.ther hand, does not seek the transformation of society, but contents itself with witnessing to the Word of God. The church is gathered by the Word of God which it has received as "an official message with the commission to pass it on.''9 The church as herald com-plements the church as servant by recalling to Catholic healthcare that fidelity to God's Word is the test of its collaboration in a secular world. The Governance Structure of Catholic Healthcare The 1971 version of "Ethical and Religious Directives" makes no specific reference to the role of the local bishop in regard to the affairs of Catholic healthcare organizations. The 1994 edi-tion, on the other hand, assigns a major role to the local bishop in the governance of healthcare organizations within the diocese. The healthcare ministry in a local diocese is an activity in which the diocesan bishop exercises responsibilities that are rooted in his office as pastor, teacher, and priest. As the center of Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolo~mtof tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives unity in the diocese and coordinator of ministries in the local church, the diocesan bishop fosters the mission of Catholic healthcare in a way that promotes collaboration among healthcare leaders, providers, medical profession-als, theologians, and other specialists. As pastor the dioce-san bishop is in a unique position to encourage the faithful to greater responsibility in the healing ministry of the church. As teacher the diocesan bishop ensures the moral and religious identity of the healthcare ministry in what-ever setting it is carried out in the diocese. As priest the diocesan bishop oversees the sacramental care of the sick. ("Directives," p. 4) Individual directives define the role of the local bishop in the founding of new Catholic healthcare facilities (no. 8), in the administration of the sacraments to non-Catholics (no. 20), and in the appointment of Catholic and non-Catholic chaplains (nos. 21, 22), especially the director of pastoral care (no. 21). Directive 37 proposes that there be some form of liaison between ethics committees and the local bishop. Part 6 deeply involves the :bishop in decisions of Catholic healthcare institutions concerning entrance into new partnerships and alliances. The local bishop is to be consulted (no. 67), and in some instances appropriate autho-rization or a nihil obstat is to be obtained from him. "Directives" of 1994 articulates a set of mutual responsibilities between the local bishop and the leadership of the healthcare ministries within the diocese. The issues posed by these aspects of "Directives" define how the governance of the bishop is to be exercised. These are fundamentally issues of ecclesiology, not of ethics or morality. Their purpose is to clarify the relationship of the local bishop to the ministries of Catholic healthcare in his diocese. The point is to specify the mutual responsibilities of bishops and the boards and senior management of Catholic healthcare orga-nizations. The more subtle and more important purpose is to maintain the link between the local church and its healthcare ministry. It will be important for Catholic healthcare and the bishops to consider whether this is the appropriate relationship. The ecclesiology of this section of "Directives" is based upon the canonical principle that a .bishop is subject to no higher author-ity in his diocese other than the pope (canon 381). But Catholic healthcare organizations and their member institutions crisscross diocesan lines. Indeed the healthcare ministry is partially set within individual dioceses, but its service and witness are spread Review for Religious to the American healthcare system as a whole. Although canoni-cally there is no such thing as the American Catholic church, it is within the publicly recognized reality of such an organization that the Catholic healthcare ministry exists. That the local bishop is the sole person with the authority to confer Catholic identity upon a new healthcare facility is certainly nothing new, nor is it riew that the bishop should have. a role in the appointment of Catholic chaplains and oversee the administration of the sacraments. Both of these activities pertain to the institutional and sacramental aspects of the church, which are at the heart of a bishop's ministry. What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to. ethics commit-tees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. Ethics committees exist in virtually every Catholic hospital in the United States. They provide three functions. First, they offer edu-cational programs for physicians, nurses, and staff. Second, although they do not make patient-care decisions, they do provide consul-tation to patieni:s, families, nurses, and physi-cians concerning ethical issues that can arise in the course of patient care. Third, they collabo-rate with the officers and board of a hospital in writing policies on such issue~ as "do not resuscitate" orders, informed consent, and physician-assisted suicide. Through such policies Catholic hos-pitals have expressed their compliance with "Ethical and Religious Directives." Many Catholic hospitals possess written policies on abortion, sterilization, contraception, and euthanasia. Physicians, nurses, and other medical personnel practicing within the hospi-tal are expected to conform their treatment plans to the policies of the hospital. The work of the ethics committee is one of the places where Catholic healthcare as h~rald is particularly active. These com-mittees grapple with the concrete details of medical practice within an acute-care setting. The committees require the skills and knowledge base of physicians, nurses, ethicists, and hospital administrators. They apply ~he principles of Catholic healthcare to concrete patient-care decision~. They do so in an environment in which professional medical standards, patient preferences, the What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to ethics committees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. May-J*lne 1996 Gallagber ¯ " Ecclesioloy~y._of tbe 1994 Healtbca~re_D__irec~'.v_e. ,s, desires of insurance companies and other payers, the dictates of civil law, and the teaching of the Catholic hierarchy may not be in agreement. As Catholic hospitals are progressively integrated into organized delivery systems, the work of the ethics commit-tees will need to migrate from the acute-care setting directly into the managed-care environment where the major policy and patient-care decisions will be made. In many instances the Catholic organization will be part of a larger whole; it will not have the same degree of control over policies and patient-care decisions that it has had in the past. If bishops or their representatives enter the deliberations of ethics committees with the same sense of purpose as other par-ticipants in the healthcare ministry, if they come as servants and as heralds, then they will be received as welcome collaborators. The work of ethics committees is very concrete; rarely is time devoted to the discussion of ethical theory or metaethics. Consensus is the mode of decision making on which these com-mittees thrive.I° Authoritarian interventions in the work of ethics committees simply will not work. They will drive away the col-laborators essential for the successful operation of a contemporary ethics committee. How the bishop chooses to interact with the ethics committees associated with healthcare ministries in his dio-cese will determine the contribution these interventions will make to the ministry of Catholic healthcare. A recent article by Kevin Wildes SJ deals with the role that the 1994 "Directives" ascribes to the local bishop. He concludes by saying that the ecclesiology of "Directives" marks a shift toward a top-down model in ecclesiology. The Catholic tradition, Wildes argues, has generally maintained an uneasy tension between those in authority (the pope, the bishops) and those considered to be authorities (theologians). Wildes's concern is that "Directives" gives the impression of being "an effort of those in authority to restrict the space and liberty of those who are an authority.''a~ Wildes's premonition must be taken seriously. The list of those who are authorities in the area of healthcare must include physi-cians, nurses, healthcare administrators, and an array of other professionals whose expertise is essential to the management of American healthcare organizations. Successful relationships among these professionals are based upon collaboration, trust, and a mutual sharing of values. Any form of authoritarianism which denies or rejects the integrity and professionalism of one's col- Review for Religious leagues will destroy the healthcare ministry, which can exist only in a world that does not completely share its values. The legitimate concerns of local bishops for the future of the healthcare ministry in their dioceses is obvious. In some places the institutions of Catholic healthcare are the most visible signs of the church in a diocese. Ethics committees within Catholic health-care organizations address issues that go to the heart of the mis-sion of Catholic healthcare, to the implementation of its fundamental purpose. "Directives" does not propose that the bishop or his representative be directly involved in the work of the committee. Rather, it says that there should be "appropriate stan-dards for medical ethical consultation within a particular diocese that will respecLthe diocesan bishop's pastoral responsibility as well as assist members of ethics committees to be familiar with Catholic medical ethics" (no. 3 7). The purpose of the directive can be most suitably fulfilled by the bishop's creation of a diocesan committee to inform and advise the bishop in the exercise of his stewardship of the healthcare ministry. Such diocesan committees, many of which are already in the process of formation, must be staffed by healthcare profes-sionals and theologians knowledgeable about the realities of the contemporary American healthcare delivery system. Where dio-ceses are small and lack appropriate resources or where diocesan boundaries overlap the service areas of Catholic healthcare min-istries, such committees could be established within regional or state episcopal conferences. In either case, such a committee offers the bishop the means of informing himself on the issues con-fronting the healthcare ministry before becoming directly involved. The Creation of New Partnerships Until relatively recently, Catholic healthcare organizations, like their counterparts in the overall American healthcare deliv-eW system, functioned as independent, autonomous institutions. If there were several Catholic hospitals or long-term-care facili-ties within a diocese, they existed in isolation from one another. There were few reasons for them to function conjointly. The reform of the healthcare delivery system within the United States has greatly altered this basic characteristic of the Catholic health-care ministry. Collaboration, partnerships, and alliances have replaced the earlier autonomy of American healthcare. May-June 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesioloffy of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives The many reasons underlying this ~ajor reconfiguration of the healthcare delivery system reasons already well known to sponsors, board members, and managers of Catholic he~althcare are not ~irectly germane to the purposes of this essay. The con-sequences of this realignment, 'however, are among the fundamental reastn~ for the revision of "Directives," with its emphasis on ecclesiology. The"buzzword in American healthcare is integration. A health- ~are organization, hospital, or long-term-care facility, must be integrated horizontally and vertically. Horizontal integration implies a collaboration or alliance among an array of healthcare organizati6ns that can provide all the services necessary to sustain the wellness and treat the illnesses of a covered 15opulation. Such an integrated delivery network (IDN) or organized deli,cery sys-tem (ODS) will contain primary-care and specialist physicians; ambulatory-care centers, labs and centers for diagnostic medicine, pharmacies, long-term-care facilities, and acute-care hospitals. Vertical integration, refers to the manner in which th6 IDN or ODS is aligned with a system of payers and insurance compianies that furnish the financial support for the network of providers. The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical inte-gration. The question the mission and business question before every CathOlic healthcare organization over the past several years has been: With whom should it be a partner? Successful IDNs and ODSs have secured sources of revenue (payers, insurance companies)' and can offer an appropriate array of health services across a geographicalarea. Such IDNs and ODSs have set up rela-tionships with a large number of physicians, have made agree-ments with multiple providers Working together, and have entered into contracts with multiple suppliers of goods and services. These are large complex btisiness operations. Catholic healthcare orga-nizations seek either to become members of or to create such IDNs and ODSs as ways of resolving their business questions. But the presence of a Catholic healthtare organization within a viable IDN or ODS does not necegsarily ensure an appropria'te resolution to the mission quest!on. Can Catholic healthcare insti-tutions be pfir~ners with for-profit corporations? Can they be partners with institutions that provide abortions or other proce-dures that conflict with the "Ethical and Religious Directives"? Review for Religious Can the Catholic healthcare.minlstry retain its status as an instru-ment of the mission of the church in whatever sort of business,~ economic, or healthcare environment? Questions such as these are what induced the bishops to put Part 6 into "Directives" and to append their interpretation of formal and material cooperation. At the present time, Catholic healthcare organizations are developing and acting upon diverse answers to the mission question. Cardinal Bernardin is attempting to facilitate the development of an alliance among the Catholic hospitals of the Chicago archdiocese. Catholic Health Care West has created in California a statewide IDN/ODS that is composed largely of Catholic providers. In Indianapolis, St. Vincent's Hospital has created an alliance with Community Hospitals, a not-for-profit organization, in which other Catholic and non- Catholic organizations are in the process of seeking membership. Recently the Sisters of Charity of St. Augustine ~in Cleveland announced that their hospitals would be entering a partnership with Columbia/HCA, a for-profit hospital corporation. In each of these four very different IDNs/ODSs, the Catholic parties have contended that they are making a business ar}angement that is compatible with their healthcare ministry. "Directives" encourages the leaders of Catholic healthcare to consult with the local bishop and to seek his approval or nihil obstat in the creation of partnerships that will affect the organi-zati0n's mission (no. 68). This process of consultation and approval is a matter of central importance to the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations as well as to the members of the hierar-chy. Ho~ it is to be conducted and what its goals are will be key factors in the success of such a process. Several directives touch upon issues internal to the process of consultation and approval. Directive 59 stipulates that the prin-ciples governing cooperation should be used to limit the partic-ipation of a Catholic organization in an alliance which provides services "judged morally wrong by the church." Such services, referred to elsewhere in "Directives," include abortion (no. 45), euthanasia (no. 60), direct st~erilization (no. 53), contraception The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical integration. May-.]une 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesiolog~f tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives (no. 52), and artificial fertilization that separates the unitive and procreative components of the marital act (nos. 40, 41). Scandal, the appearance of cooperating in and accepting as permissible an objectively immoral act, rnust be avoided in the partnerships entered into by Catholic healthcare ministries (no. 45). Of course, avoidance of scandal would be agreed to unhesi-tatingly by all parties to this process of consultation and approval. Scandal is a sin against charity, against the very bond that unites persons within the church. No participant in the Catholic health-° care ministry would willingly let the organization's activities be a source of scandal. The more likely discussion would focus on what, in fact, constitutes scandal. The concepts of formal and material cooperation in the evil of others have generally been the gauges used by moral theologians to make such a determination. It is at least questionable, however, whether this mode of moral reasoning will be sufficient to resolve the issues that currently confront the ministry of Catholic healthcare. The concepts of formal and material cooperation were devel-oped by theologians to resolve the qu.estion of the culpability of one person's cooperation in another's morally evil act. The clas-sic example in recent medical ethics has been the Catholic nurse who cooperates with a physician in performing an abortion. If the nurse's cooperation was simply to care for the woman after the procedure in a postoperative (post-op) area, her cooperation was generally deemed remote and material. Her actions were after the fact (remote) and incidental to the act of an abortive-proce-dure; she was simply providing care that would be provided to any post-op patient (material). Indeed, under the principles gov-erning cooperation, a nurse could assist in the abortive proce-dure by handing instruments to the physician if she did not intend the evil of abortion, was performing a task that was itself not immoral (simply handling the surgical instruments), was under duress to cooperate in the procedure (fear of loss of job), had voiced her opposition to the.' procedure, and was not repeatedly placed in this situation.12 The principles governing cooperation were developed to assist confessors in their assessment of the moral culpability of penitents coerced in some fashion to coop-erate in the evil of another. Can it be applied to the activities of healthcare institutions? Fathers James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, the authors of the appendix to "Directives" that defines the principles gov- Rewiew for Religiot~s erning cooperation, contend that such is the case.13 However, this issue requires further reflection. Certainly the decision-making processes of corporations and institutions are much more complex than those of individuals. Decision making in modem corporations and institutions is spread all through them. Corporate boards endorse or reject proposals made by CEOs and their senior man-agers; CEOs and their management teams approve or modify rec-ommendations from directors and managers. In the healthcare setting, physicians have a strong influence on decisions about healthcare delivery. Corporate decision making is the result of an ongoing, multileveled, integrated discourse that eventually reaches a decision. Although corporations and institutions are moral agents, their agency ought not be confused with that of individual persons. It will be from within the corporate structures which consti-tute the decision-making processes of the Catholic healthcare ministry that the future profile of that ministry will be discerned. If the principles governing cooperation assist some organizations in responding to the question of the manner in which their health-care ministry can be legitimately configured in an IDN/ODS, then clearly they should employ them. Many Catholic organiza-tions, however, have begun to develop processes of corporate ~dis-cernment in order to ensure'that their activities in a reconfigured delivery system will continue to be an authentic ministry in sup-port of the mission of the church. Such decision-making processes are being developed for sev-eral reasons. "Directives" (pp. 6-7) has identified some key values for the Catholic healthcare ministry, "normative principles that inform the church's health ministry": human dignity, care of the poor, the common good, stewardship of resources, and the right to refuse services inconsistent with church teaching. The first four of these principles are clearly values that leaders of Catholic healthcare can share with potential collaborators. Although these values are central to the Catholic ethical tradition, they are also readily embraced by others. Catholic healthcare personnel strive to cooperate with other providers who share these basic values. An IDN/ODS becomes an instance of the very concrete manner in which such principles become embodied in a corporate structure composed of Catholic, and non-Catholics dedicated to providing healthcare services for a community. Indeed, agreement on these values does not necessarily resolve the issue of a Catholic orga- May-~une 1996 ; Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives nization's partnership with an organization that provides elective tubal ligations or even.abortions. But it does widen out the array of issues that are deemed relevant in determining whether~a par-ticular partnership or alliance will be acceptable to a local bishop. These fundamental values of the Catholic healthcare min-istry need to be woven into an array of complex business deci-sions. The very location of places of service will say much about an organization's commitment to care of the poor. The managed-care programs of Catholic organizations and their human-resource practices will portray their interpretation of human dignity. The various allocations of capitated dollars within a system are signs of the system's stewardship of resources. Finally, how an IDN/ODS plans for care of the poor in a nation that has growing numbers of people without health insurance and that faces pending reduc-tions in Medicare and Medicaid spending will be a witness to an important value. All of these decisions need to be made within corporate structures that will take the values central to all Catholic healthcare ministry and make them operative in a given institu-tional structure. Careful processes of discernment assist board members and the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations to identify the explicit rationale for individual decisions. Such processes pose questions: Why are we doing this? ls this decision in support of the ministry of Catholic healthcare? Will this deci-sion not only facilitate the success of this organization as a busi-ness operation, but also enhance its ministry? In their discussion and discernment about the purpose and practice of their ministry, Catholic healthcare organizations go well beyond the principles governing cooperation. Catholic healthcare has never defined itself in negative'terms. It was not created, nor has it continued into the present, in order not to do certain things. The foundresses of Catholic healthcare and their successors endeavored to operate virtuous institutions that would serve their communities. Current and ongoing reflection by a new generation of successors sets the same positive goals and strives to choose wisely the means to accomplish them. These ~eflective processes are educational; they require that individual board members,and managers, become familiar with the values that.shape the behavior and expectations of the orga-nization. Since values like human dignity and care of the poor are part of the discourse part of what the organization talks about and how it makes its decisions new members need to Review for Religious become sensitized to these values in order to function profes-sionally within it. A culturally diverse professiona! staff can be attracted to ~'participate in the activities of a virtuoias institution that strives to embody values in its services. Their involvement in such an institution need not jeopardize their own religious con-victions. The reflective processes of corporate discernment can con-tribute to the refounding of the healthcare ministry. At this point both bi~shops and leaders of Catholic healthcare are more certain about what the healthcare ministry was than what it is or will be. Latent in all who are concerned for the future of the healthcare ministry is a longing, perhaps even an expectataon, that some wily theologian will identify the essence of Catholic healthcare so that, knowing what that essence or nature is, they can produce it and make it available. But this is not likely to be the case. Catholic healtheare in the past was built upon the religious values and commitments of women who forged a ministry in isolated railroad towns in the West and in the urban poverty of 19th-century American cities. People who practice reflective disc~i'nment together will not discover the new essence of the healthcare min- )stry, but they will invite the leaders of this ministry into a period of dialectics in which the clash of facts and values, of business realities and religious visions, wil.l give rise to a new foundation of the Catholic healthcare ministry. Reflective discernment pro-cesses are heuristic: they strive to pose questions whose answers will render the world in which we live coherent and enlivening. But Catholic healthcare is not yet in such a world. In all like-lihood, it will be some time before the healthcare ministry is securely situated on a new foundation. When that time arrives, Catholic healthcare will be distinct from what it was for most of the 20th century. Yet, in a form that is not altogether clear at this time, it will be a ministry of service and witness, of diaconia and kerygma. At present, however, American Catholic healthcare remains a pilgrim ministry that tries to read the signs of the times and find its way into the future. Notes 1 "Ethical and Religious Directives for~Catholic Health Care Services" was approved by the National Council of Catholic Bishops at their November 1994 meeting. First published in Origins 24~ no. 27 (15 December 1994): 449-462, it was afterwards published as a booklet (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, February 1995). May-yTune 1996 Ga/lagber * Ecdesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives 2 Avery Dulles SJ, Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday, 1974). ~ Adam J. Maida, Church Property, Church Finances, and Church Related Corporations (St. Louis: Catholic Health Association, 1984), pp. 53-58. 4 Yves Congar Op, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Attwater (London: Bloomsbury Publishing Co., 1957), p, xxiv. s Philip Murnion, "The Next Steps for the Laity," Origins 25, no, 2 (1995): 30. 6 Ladislas Orsy SJ, "Structures for the Vision: An Interview with Ladislas Orsy sJ," America, 7 October 1995, p. 12. 7 See Bernard Lonergan SJ, Method in Theology (New York~ Herder and Herder, 1974), pp. 285-293. s Dulles, Models, p. 92. 9 Dulles, Models, p. 76. ~0 See K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, "A Critique of Principlism," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 15 (1990): 219-236; John Arras, "Getting Down to Cases: The Revival of Casuistry in Bioethics," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 16 (1991): 29-52. See also Jonathan D. Moreno, Deciding Togetber: Bioetbics and Moral Consensus (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995). ~ Kevin Wildes sJ, "A Memo for the Central Office: The 'Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services,'" Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal 5 (1995): 138. ,2 Orville N. Griese, Catholic Ide~nti?y in Health Care: Principles and Practice (Braintree: Pope John Centei', 1987), p. 401. ~3 James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, "The Principle of Cooperation," Health Progress, April 1995, p. 24. Annunciation Having left no hint Of handkerchief or halo, Gabriel was gone. There was no other word between them needed, For she and God would grow together so, No angel would intrude. Sally Witt csJ Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets on Fire for Mission In 'recent times mission, community, authority, and obe-dience have not always blended well in religious congre-gations. But, when a congregation carefully integrates these four elements, it possesses a healthy center of religious experience that makes possible a clarity of identity, a cohe-siveness of membership, and, most importantly, a fire for mission. This is the thesis of this article. The challenge .fa.c.ing us religious today is not simply a matter of deploy-ing members efficiendy or satisfying their ministerial pref-erences. Rather, the challenge includes a self-abandonment that renews the members' total reliance on a loving God while enlivening them and setting them on fire for mis-sion, their hearts fused together in one consecration. The issue fundamentally is religious and spiritual. Mission always has the overarching importance when-ever it is related to community, authority, .and obedience. Mission, as the very heart and meaning of any congrega-tion, ties the members into the great desires of God as revealed in Jesus. Surely more than being just a job, mis-sion draws its effectiveness from a spiritual theology, active and unitive within the hearts of all the members. At the same time, though mission has a priority over the other three elements, it can never replace any of them without George Aschenbrenner SJ is presently director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth at Church Road; Box 223; Wernersville, Ptnnsylvania 19565. symposium part 2 May-j~une 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens seriously weakening the congregation's overall effectiveness and corrupting the significance of the element apparently replaced. Obedience when separated from the other three becomes an unhealthy ascetical practice, something shortsightedly in and for itself. Mission when separated from community produces a scat-ter- shot diffused effect, and community without much relation to mission narcissistically turns in upon itself. No, there is no avoiding the interrelationship of these four elements. The very identity and stability of a congregation depend upon it. A clear central integration~of these four elemeflts is as neces-sary for active as for mona~stic congregations, despite the signif-icant differences between them. In religious life today this fourfold central unity may express itself differently in the two, but it r~emains important for both.~ Though not easily accomplished, this central unity .can take on a critical importance in active con-gregations. Because it is the nature of an active community that its members be sent out and dispersed in a variety of ministries, the accomplishment of unity and a sense of felt membership can be difficult. But when the centrifugal force of ministry is not bal-anced with the appropriate centripetal force of community, the pain of disunity and loneliness can destroy the congregation. In many cases the issue addressed here touches on nothing less than the very survival of the group. After renewing a basic .supposition about religious life, I will develop a spirituality of abandonment as central to ,apostolic mis-sion. This spirituality has four different personal objects and cen. trally affects the exercise of religious government for mission. Finally, four results emerge when an appropri.ate,integration of our foursome is ~achieved. Religious Life: Essentially Corporate Existence Orders and congregations each have their own version of the evangelical imperatives of chastity, poverty, and obedience, but all of them have a corporate faith, focused in a shared vision and mission, that distinguishes religious life from other life-forms in the church. In the midst of a great variety of changes within reli-gious life, an essential corporate existence continues to play a central identifying role. And t.hough the und~erstanding of reli-gious community has shifted a lot since Vatican Council II, only some clear shared corporate vision--believed and practiced by Review for Religious all--can prevent religious life from changing into a wholly dif-ferent form. This fundamental communitarian existence stands as one identifying continuity stretching back even to Pachomius in the 4th century. At a time of shifting meanings for religious community, care must be taken not to lose the reality. Especially in the active apos-tolic model, one of the revealing signs of a religious vocation con-tinues to be a genuine desire for a shared faith and life. This must include some form of the following actions done together: shar-ing faith, praying, living, and ministering. These shared actions are not arbitrarily left to the individual's choice or whim. They con-stitute membership. So one is excused only for directly ministe-rial reasons. These commitment mechanisms ritualize in some genuine fashion the corporate vision and faith. Without such reg-ularly siiared experiences, the sense of religious community becomes ethereal and chimerical. Therefore, in some carefully understood sense, religious life is life in community, and not just on one's own. For an active religious, not to have a genuine desire to be,together in praying, living, and ministering becomes a seri-ous countersign to membership and cannot simply be tolerated. This corporate shared life has within it a dynamic impulse to public, visible expression. The life-form of a secular institute runs on~a different dynamic: to be hidden and unrecognized within the secular society. And so, ordinarily the religious life-form will stand out more than that of a secular institute. This element of public visibility gives external expression to the essential corpo-rate nature of religious life. Of cot~rse, the evangelical impera-tives, especially celibate chastity, add their own focus~to this central corporate identity. My point here is simple and clear: reli-gious life is not something done on my own and alone. It is always a shared corporate vision and existence. Mission: A Profound Spirituality and Theology Mission is a great growing concern within religious life today, and well it should be. But this great concern can be misunder-stood. In these days of second, third, and even fourth careers, more and more religious find themselves wondering "What would I like to do now?" or "What should I try after ten years of teach-ing?" Though these and similar wonders can naturally entertain our minds, they can fixate us on too superficial a level. As men- May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens tioned above, mission is not finally a matter of personal preference and efficient deployment of members. Mission in religious life always catches fire in a profound the-ology and spirituality. Religious consecration gathers together and roots members in the mystery of Jesus' obedience to the great universal mission of God's love. A passionate desire for every-body to know how loved and cared for they are in the mystery of God is always burning in Jesus' heart. He is always on this mis-sion. It is his very identity. Jesus' consciousness is dominated by a sense of being sent. He never stands on his own. He never comes to do his own thing. Whatever he speaks and does and is, he receives from another. The Gospel of John makes this very clear in many passages. "I do nothing on my own authority but speak simply as my Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me now: the Father has never left me alone, for I always do what pleases him" (Jn 8:28-29). There is a clear limit to any process of self-actualization in Jesus. This clear limit does not speak of immature dependency, but rather points to a theology and spirituality of love always aflame in his heart. The receptivity involved in Jesus' experience of mission reveals the central love affair that burns at the core of his identity. Rather than passive submission to the marching orders of some distant authority, mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." At the heart of this love affair, a mysterious abandonment burns in an identity of perpetual ado-ration. It is an adoration that sets him afire every day for his mis-sion and finally for the fearful but well-loved completion of that mission: the great Passover of his life. He does not tell his dear Fathe~ what to do. Rather, their self-abandonment in mutual love forges such a union that Jesus, aglow in the Holy Spirit, is God's mission always burning among us. Jesus: Abandonment to His "Dear Father" In this abandonment Jesus' heart is always burning true. Sometimes he shows his love by carrying out ordinary routines, while at other times he performs deeds of high drama. All disci-ples of the great mission of God must do both kinds of things in their own lives, according to the specifics of their own personal religious experience. Review for Religious In the temple at the age of twelve, Jesus speaks a word of truth: "Didn't you know I must always be where my dear Father is?''2 This truth radiates identity for the young boy, as well as for his distraught mother and foster father. While not easily under-stood, such a word invites contemplative treasuring in their hearts. It not only cannot be contradicted, but it allur-ingly presages a mysterious future. Years later this word has become so clear in his heart as to call him away from his beloved home and mother. An urgency beckons him, an urgency to go to his cousin, the Baptizer, at the Jordan. There the fire flames forth in an enor-mously special way. A religious experience, always alive in his heart, flashes forth in a dramatic moment. A love beyond words and imagining; a Son so specially beloved and pleasing; a servant uniquely chosen for mission--in such a moment the abandonment of his life to his dear Father is so very obvious and very right. He knows that this fire in his heart has not been set by himself, but by a dear Father's loving Spirit. The original temple-word, now a clearly recognized relationship with a dear Father beloved beyond limit, becomes a guiding light all through his busy life in the midst of the people. Always he is one called and sent into the mission of every day. This special inner consciousness keeps the fire of loving aban-donment zealously aglow, ~in his heart. "I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!" (Lk 12:49). This inner fire burns finally into the completion of his bap-tism. "There is a baptism I must still receive, and how great is my distress till it is over!" (Lk 12:50). The growing paschal ful-fillment of that temple-word brings him into the great mission-ary climax of his life.-It is high drama. A mission of love plays itself out on the stage of his troubled heart, and the audience stretches into the fullness of time. In an olive grove his aware-ness that "everything is possible for you, dear Father" raises a puzzling possibility: "Take this cup away from me." But, beyond the fear and questioning of his mind, in the deepest adoring still-ness of his heart, that fire of self-abandonment faithfully burns and enlivens: "But let it be as you, not I, would have it!" This chosen servant, so much the delight of God, brings the whole mission of his life to unending fullness in the climactic Mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." 2~lay-37~ne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens challenge of Calvary. Though the drama and intensity of the moment is high pitch, the story is still the same: a servant aban-doning himself to the Beloved. The mission of love is now some-how complete. "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). "Dear Father, into your hands I give over my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Jesus, God's mission. in our midst, stripped to the simple clear essence of his identity, becomes a fire of forgiving love blazing into the fullness of time. Disciples: Sent for Missidn This enlivening fire for mission in Jesus is meant to deter-mine the missionary lives of all his disciples. A great desire for mission and evangelization sends disciples all over the world. This evangelization must always be fueled by an urgency of desire that more and more people taste the joy, freedom, and union of God's deeply personal love in Jesus, a reconciling love in which we all live and move and have our being. Disciples always bring an aston-ishing wealth of gifts, training, and experience to this mission of evangelization. This is marvelous. The cooperation and blend-ing of all these talents in any particular operation, however, is not always easy. At the heart of this sense of mission must always be the same profound identifying attitude of Jesus. An eager, ready abandon-ment in love stokes the heart's coals for the fire of mission. Such missionary eagerness comes from a burning desire to be sent, This fire for mission involves a profound attitude in faith that becomes visible in the results of an appropriate ministerial place-ment process. Daily discipleship in the great mission of Jesus always requires the stance of radical abandonment that identifies Jesus in his love affair with his dear Father. Various dangers today threaten the faith attitude and reli-gious experience needed if we are to share Jesus' burning sense of mission. In recent years many congregations have borrowed ter-minology from corporate management and social psychology to name roles played in the community's organization and struc-ture. 3 While there surely is some value in this, we must be care-ful~ of the significance of our language. Language often has an effect on us that is not immediately evident, It can .talk us into or out of certain attitudes, almost without our noticing. If we slip out of the profound faith perspective described in this article, a prophetic vision easily becomes ideological, and fire for mission Review for Religious becomes political competition. We must be careful that our words do not distract us from the realm of profound faith where the dynamics of life and love are often quite different from those of our secular society. An age still strongly individualistic, therapeutic, and security conscious keeps the focus on self and taking care of self. In ways insidiously subliminal or at least not obvious, this spirit can lead to an assertiveness that resists the abandonment that sets a person afire for mission. Especially when this therapeutic spirit seems very convincing, the dynamic of "sending oneself" can quench the red-hot coals of missionary abandonment. Such self-sending is easily justified in the heady winds of assertiveness and individ-ualism. Such self-sending often makes a person blind to any par-ticipation in the corporate vision; it blocks genuine community mediation and can even manipulate it. Such an attitude and prac-tice ~threatens our sharing in Jesus' sense of mission. The issue finally is always the same: The self-abandonment that enlivens and sets the heart on fire is itself being abandoned. An Abandonment to Whom? The abandonment described here must be an interpersonal experience of love. Though we may pledge allegiance to a flag, we can abandon ourselves only to some person who loves us. Then, when the beauty of the beloved is magnetic enough, the aban-donment becomes practically unavoidable. 'No mere cause, how-ever noble and (xciting, can affect us in this way, can move us as profound interpersonal love, engagement, and abandonment of self can. The abafidonment beyond self that participates in God's mis~- sion in Jesus always includes four loves or four ways of loving. First and foremost, we abandon ourselves into the loving hands of God. This falling 6ut of control can never be forced or strongly willed on our own. We can only be lured and seduced to it by the astonishing beauty of God's love in the fidelity of Jesus. For someone who does not feel the magnetism of that love, the aban-donment so central to this article not only will be almost unin-telligible, but will also be altogether impossible. The person may even repel any such suggestion. The continuing struggle in active apostolic congregations to integrate mission and consecration is relevant here. A certain consecration to, with, and in God is nec- May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. essary if mission endeavors--even fervently "prophetic" ones-- are to become more than just efficient social work. In other words, the proper integration of consecration and mission can take place only in the actual experience of abandoning ourselves to God's love so radiantly.inviting in Jesus. Second, fire for mission also involves an abandonment in com-passionate sensitivity to all sorts of needy people in our world. No impersonal cause, however rabidly espoused, will suffice. A specification and personalization of the great needs throughout our universe invites the missionary abandonment described in this article. For this aspect of the abandonment to have strong effect today, certain countercultural developments are needed. Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. This calls for gener-ous abandonment. The charism of each congre-gation must help its members to see needs in the world and then to set priorities. The charism must be alive in their hearts so that they actually address some specific needs of today, rather than simply embrace a vague universalism. A charism that is trying to do everything runs the danger finally of accomplishing nothing. Third, abandoning myself to the community of brothers or sisters who share the same religious consecration implies a belief that our corporate good is much more important than my own individual good. Community here must be, not some idealized reality, but the real people of the here and now. This aspect of abandonment for mission does not make light of my own good, but presumes the pervasive corporate identity whereby my own sense of self cannot be conceived apart from our shared life and mission together. The central energizin, g concern is we, not me. Once again, as mentioned earlier, corporate ministerial impact is what mission is about, not a scatter-shot effect of talented pro-fessional individuals. This corporate identity is not easily attained in an age of therapeutic individualism. It continues to be a major issue in religious formation today, and it must be resolved suffi-ciendy at the time of profession if candidates and communities are to have a future together. Fourth, the abandonment we are discussing will always some-how involve human mediators who specify, clarify, and incarnate Review for Religions God's loving authority in Jesus for mission. Whether these medi-ators are friends, a spiritual director, a leadership team, a provin-cial, the bishop, or the people with whom I live, mission can never be simply a matter of myself and God. The dialogue and dis-cernment stretch beyond individual limitations. Each member's discernment always assumes great importance, but is never the ultimate determining factor in the decision. In many situations human mediation is precisely the point of struggle and disagree-ment among us. Some of this struggle is an understandable reac-tion to excessively authoritarian practices of mediation in the past, but not all of it is so easily explained. Some of this reaction needs to be explored and challenged. Without settling for vague gen-eralities at this point, I want to describe some specific develop-ments in the riext section without, however, resorting to overly definitive, rigid uniformities. This brings us to the role of religious government in fostering a congregation's fire for mission. Role of Religious Government for Mission Models of religious government have gone through an enor-mous transformation since Vatican II. The diversity of develop-ment between men's and women's congregations has been striking. As we become sensitive to the enriching differences of the femi-nine and the masculine, this diversity of development is expected and is perhaps long overdue after many years in which women religious were forced into structures and models originally cre-ated for men. But some further questions surface at this point. Should the governmental models in congregations of women and men be so different? Along with some diversity that all seem happy to allow for, should there not be more similarity in the role of authority and the practice of obedience within men's and women's congregations? How do we recognize and maintain, both for women and men, a continuity of development with the past.in this area of religious authority and obedience? (Such continuity, though not easily recognized at certain junctures in the development, is always a sign of the guidance of the Holy.Spirit.) These questions are not easily answered, and I hope that together we will deal hon-esdy with them for some time. It is too easy a resolution simply to say: that is the masculine way and this is the feminine way. It is my hope that the diversity in thi.s area between the practice of men and women will be mutually challenging and enriching. May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of leadership will usuall not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a con regation, o A movement awayofrom hierarchical models has character-ized ma.ny congregational leadership arrangements since Vatican II. This movement was not so clearly called for in the cohncil's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; espe-cially in its treatment of obedience.4 Throughout all the docu-ments of the council, we can clearly find glimpses of a new "vision for the people of God that would legitimate in the Spirit-some of this movement away from a thoroughly hierarchical model. But, withgut' doubt, other waves of influence gathering force over the last thirty years have been churned up and driven along by secular winds. Strong'democratic and egalitarian presumptions have been hard at work deconstru4dng most models of ¯ authority and government. And, once tidal-wave proportions have been reached, it is hard to be concerned about nuance and degree of development and chan~e. The Ignatian model is an interesting.~xample. The original Ignatian concePtion of authority and obedience for mission was strongly hierarchical and centralized. It was this strong centralized model, of authority that made both internal cohesiveness and widespread external ministry possible. Some would view this Ignatian model as the beginning of active religious life in the ~'modern world,s Congregations of women and men claiming Ignatian 'influence and roots in their founding interpret this in quite different ways today, howe~,er much they have or have not thought through and discussed the matter. A triangular model of authority as flowing down from the pinnacle has given way to a model of much more mutual and shared responsibility. We are rediscovering the authority in each mature believing person. When well informed by the Holy Spirit and well in touch with God's people as a whole, each person is able to "author forth" as part-of God's mission of love among us. But is this individualized, egalitarian authority enough for the mis-sion of religious life in the future? If we simply let the recent decentralizing development have its way, will the. proper under-standing and practice of authority for mission just naturally emerge? I think not, Such a development implies too ethereal a Review Jbr Religious view of the Holy Spirit, as though not inviting the cooperative ohard work of human minds and hearts. Authority's triangle can-not simply be exchanged, in my opinion, for a circle composed of brothers and sisters of completely equal authority. A Model of Concentric Circles To properly integrate mission, community, authority, and obe, dience, I suggest another model for religious institutes: concen-tric circles. In the centermost circle is God revealed in Jesus with a very special authority. In the next circle are the founders and foundresses with their charismatic vision and that vision's con-tinuous development. In the next few circles would be individu-als or teams on the general or local levels who possess an authority for unity and mission beyond that of all the other members. This special authority is received both from God and from all the mem-bers through the group's ecclesially approved process of choice. This distinctive authority does not finally s~t these people off from the rest of the members. As a matter of fact, it will have effect only as contextualized within, the community of all the brothers and sisters. The people exercising such special authority are sisters and brothers to. us all. This is precisely why these cen-tral circles are placed concentrically within the largest circle, which contains all the members gathered as brothers or sisters in the one congregation. In the concentric model it is important to distinguish, but not separate, authority, leadership, and obedience.6 Authority is a canonical, juridical office of power rooted in God, not in the chancery or some Vatican office. This is a power about other per-sons for.ministry. Leadership, on the other hand, is a charism of influence and inspiration over other people. This latter cannot be legalized and institutionalized. Not everyone has this charism. Though the juridical office of authority and the personal charism of leadership can and should be distinguished, we must always work hard to keep the two in a proper balance of relationship. To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of lead-ership will usually not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a congregation. To confuse this distinction and the operative government-model in a congregation will always have its cor-rupting effect on the unity of the membership and on its shared fire for mission. That lines of authority be clear regarding who May-~nne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens exercises it and for what object is not a finicky concern for tidi-ness, but rather a strong desire for spreading fire effectively in the mission of God's love. If authority and leadership must stay in relationship, the same is true of authority and obedience. They form an essential mutual relationship. One cannot stand without the other. While author-ity invites the mature obedience of careful listening, so too must it be sensitive in careful listening to the membership's calling forth healthy mature exercise of authority. Each calls forth the other in a vitality and interrelationship always focused on greater unity.and fire for mission. The decentralizing trend in religious congregations since Vatican II has affected this interrelationship of authority, leader-ship, and obedience. It has thereby also affected the structure, appearance, and sense of belonging in many congregations: But, as we keep relating this decentralization to two other corporate values (membership and ministry) and not allow it simply to develop a life of its" own, a couple of important questions face us. How decentralized can a group become and still preserve a cohe-sive unity and an outreaching mission? How much unrefined plu-ralism can a group tolerate without losing its unity and identity? These questions not only nag at religious groups, but also affect secular organizations and are not susceptible to pat or easy answers. However, dealing with them is crucial because it keeps this decentralizing tendency in relationship with the foursome (mission, community, authority, and obedience) that provides (as this article argues) the central stability and identity of any religious congregation. One of the dangers today is that this decentralizing spirit may assume a solitary dominating influence. Religious authority, then, as exercised in the concentric gov-ernmental structure presented here, serves two major important purposes. In the first place, this authority fosters clarity and energy about the mission of God in Jesus for us here and now. Decisions are made, not simply according to individual preferences and seri- 6us individual discernments, but in light of a congregation's charis-matic identity as that has developed over years to a contemporary specification. Authority thus exercises a preserving role regarding the congregation's present specification of its identity in the mis-sion of God in Jesus. Rather than having a stifling effect, these mediators in the exercise of authority foster: fire for mission and are servants of the faithful continuity of the congregation's Review for Religious charism. Of course, they could never serve this special role with-out the energetic cooperation of us all. In the second place, this authority is especially related to the corporate unity of the group. Just as God's authority is never meant to be an oppressive ,burden, but serves toward the uplifting unity of the whole human family, so this religious authority is a unique service for love in the unity and mission of the congregation. Mediators of this authority, therefore, are special servants of the group's unity in love. Without careful, clear exercise of authority and obedience, a congrega-tion's experienced unity gets ragged and its fire for mission dims. Results of Healthy Integration The proper interrelationship of mission, community, author-ity, and obedience produces four healthy results. First, ministry is always seen as rooted in and flowing out of the Trinity. Neither empty theory nor impractic.al idealism, this profound spiritual theology must ground and animate all ministry in the church. Ministry is really God's work and not some project that we, are in sole charge of and that belongs completely to us. This vision of bedrock faith has very practical implications. The second result is one of these practical implications. This Trinitarian vision of ministry keeps in check the serious danger of finding our very identity in the ministry. To succumb to the dan-ger and identify ourselves in what we do is always to stunt the richness and profundity of our person. This is even more serious in terms of our identity in Christ. Whether consciously or uncon-sciously, letting our very identity--who we are in Christ~--be con-sumed by our hands-on daily work has serious repercussi6ns. Our view of self becomes superficial and overly pragmatic; we stub-bornly cling for dear life to our ministry. The religious experi-ence of taking genuine risks because of our reliance on God's promise in Jesus shrinks. Moreover, the physical decline of old age can bring deep frustration after many years of busy activity if we have allowed those years to teach us by osmosis this faulty maxim: The harder we work, the holier we become. As disciples called by Christ and, saved in Christ, our identity is given; it is revealed, not earned, not merited. "It is, remember, by grace and not by achievement that you are saved . It was nothing you could ordid achieve--it was God's gift of grace which saved you" (Ep 2:6, 8). May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Jesus' death on the cross is our hope, our salvation. He is our identity beyond all others. In this greatest act of love, we find an identity so deeply rooted in God that we can be surprised; sur-prised by a ministerial availability beyond limits we had mistak-enly imposed, surprised by a ministerial effectiveness beyond our careful planning, and surprised by an experience of aging that invites an. intimacy with Jesus beyond expectation. Once again the central point of this article stands clear: Jesus' abandonment on the cross attracts us and unites us in a similar abandonment that is the core of all ministry. As a third result, when mission, community, authority, and obedience are meshing in the proper way, an invigorated sense of membership pervades the congregation. Members do not feel competitively alienated from one another in seeking, finding, and carrying out employment. Members, rather, feel part of a reality much. bigger than themselves because their individual placement in ministry somehow really involves the entire community. Their daily ministry is part of the community's whole commitment to mission, extending far beyond individual preference into the enor-mous venture of God's mission of love in Jesus for the transfor-mation of the whole universe. As a fourth result, the proper implementation of the four-some described in this article enables a congregation to pool its resources, especially financial ones, and respond to some extremely critical contemporary needs even when the work is not recom-pensed by a living wage or any salary at all. A corporate commit-ment can overcome the limiting of ministries only to those that individual members find adequate to support themselves. In this way availability for minisu'y is stretched beyond the limits of indi-vidual preference, individual job search, and individual income. In conclusion, the church throughout the world,-and espe-cially in North America, faces the tremendous missionary chal-lenge of a civil society becoming more and more secularistic, more permeated with a practical atheism. In the face of such a challenge, fear would distract our gaze and corrupt our courage. All of the church's members must respond courageously. But we religious, from the vantage point of our celibate, simple lifestyle, should be able t6 gaze and~listen together in a specially sensitive and enlightened way, always eager fo~ a self-abandonment that will enliven, not dehumanize, us and will set us on fire for mission way beyond the individual likes and dislikes. The fire of this self- Review for Religious abandonment will constantly remind us, and everybody, that God is at the heart of it all and that God's love in Jesus is the real work being done and to be done. Notes l See George Aschenbrenner sJ, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668. 2 This is a tra~nslation of Luke 2:49 suggested by the Jesuit scripture scholar Father David Stanley in a retreat given in 1967. 3 See Ma~y Linscott SND, "The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions," Review for Religious 42, no. 2 (March-April 1983): 212-213. 4 Most commentators on the document notice an ambiguity within a variety of positions due to the conflicting views represented in the body 6f the council and in the commission responsible for Perfectae caritatis. See Commentary on the Documents of Vatican 11, vol. 2 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), pp. 301-370. s See David Knowles, From Pachqmius to Ignatius (Ox,ford: C_larendon, 1966), pp. 61-68. 6 See Mary Linscott SND, "Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government," Review for Religious 52, no. 2 (March-April 1993): 166- 193. Composition of Place With consistency, theocean disarms life's taut livery. Before the vasL I let it, like a magnet, draw away heavy-metaled worry that cages me unfree. In its place I embrac~e the gossamer interlace of sun and s,ky and foam, fit garment for a psalm by the side of the sea with ;the waves' response in holy antiphony. Anna Marie Mack SSJ May-if:tote 1996 JUDITH A. MERKLE Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience an Matthew's Gospel we visit a scene with which we are all miliar, the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. Jesus, upset over the death of John the Baptist, withdraws to a quiet place. The disciples and the crowds follow him. The sick come and he heals them, even though he is filled with a sense of loss. It becomes evident the people are without sufficient food. Through strengthening the faith of the disciples, Jesus not only heals the sick but even feeds those who journeyed with him to this out-of-the- way place. At the end of the meal, the apostles gather the fragments from the feast and then continue to journey with Jesus. We too have journeyed with Jesus to what some would call an out-of-the-way place. Over the last thirty years, we as religious have set out in search of Jesus. As Perfectae caritatis states, "the religious life is intended above all else to lead those who embrace it to an imitation of Christ and to union with God" (§2). We have found Christ in prayer, in the poor, in our classrooms and emer-gency wards, on planes to Africa, and in AIDS clinics in our urban areas. We have sought union with God in the reforms of Vatican II, in the retreat movement, marching with farm workers, or pro-viding support to the elderly. We find ourselves in a new place, still seeking to listen to his word. We too have our sick with us, and we have our concerns for them. We too wonder if we have brought enough food for the Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN is in the Religious Studies Department at Niagara University. She is the author of Committed by Choice (1992) and a forthcoming book on religious life, cultural crisis, and the vows. Her address is: P.O. Box 1869; Niagara University, New York 14109. Review for Religious journey. We seek food from Jesus for these next steps of renewal, while at the same time knowing that a world on the cusp of a mil-lennium seeks new food from us. We too, like the people on the hillside, are at the end of a divine banquet. Historically we have witnessed in 19th-centnry religious life a multiplication of the loaves and fishes. In its insti-tutions, its way of organizing religious living, its powerful con-tribution to the church, and its marvelous growth, we have seen something unparalleled in church history since the 13th century. , Today we are left with only the fragments of 19th-century religious life; the fragments of the institutions they founded, the fragments of the way of life they constructed to express religious life, the fragments of their spirituality and beliefs. We can no longer go back and re-create the world they once built, and nei-ther the quality and extent of the next divine banquet nor our part in it is clear to us. There is, however, a choice before us today. We can sit on the hillside and tell stories of a wondrous event, of a former way of living religious life, remembering with nostalgia that brief moment of grandeur when God so touched our lives. We can allow our companionship to cover up our hopelessness about the times ever again being right for such a visitation. Or we can hold the fragments in our hands and ask what revelation they may hold for 'us. Why did God leave us with these fragments? Why must the disciples gather them up? As people living on fragments, we must ask, too, what the people did the day after the banquet. How did they continue their journey of faith? We know they did continue it because today we can gather in Jesus' name and we remain a people who live in this mystery. Let us, then, hold these fragments in our hands and pon-der the pain and promise in them. We will be examining expressly the vow of obedience and how, in the context of our times, it takes on new meaning. We will first discuss how religious share in the cultural crisis in our society at large, and in this way we will speak to the pain these fragments hold. Second, we will focus on obedience as affective bonding and on the life process which this involves. Here we will take heed of the promise which religious living holds in our cul-ture as we face issues of morfil decline, fragmentation, and drift. I would like to explore with you the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and eccle~ially. May-3~ne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mindset in a thirty-year period ? The New Situation We sha~e with others in the Western world in a new situation. of our lives. A recent book makes it clear that the United States society currently lives from moral fragments and community frag-ments only. Ours is a time of moral breakdowns, moral hope-lessness, and drift. We have looked to both economic progress and government to provide a quality life for all, but we realize more and more in the 1990s that there is nothing more important to our lives together than the regeneration that moral community can provide,l ~ Hearing this analysis as religious, we know that the moral drift in the wider cul-ture has touched us also. Thirty years ago Perfectae caritatis launched us on a path of renewal with these words: "The more ardently religious unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives~ the more vigorous becomes, the life of the church and the more abundantly .her apostolate bears fruit" (§1). But what is the shape of this self-surrender in a culture living on frag- .ments, where cultural wisdom says to find some corner of the world where your needs are met and stay there, avoiding life's larger questions and the needs of one's neigh-bor? 2 What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mind-set in a thirty-year period? Before Vatican II, it could be argued, religious life shared many of the characteristics of premodern life. Community was based largely on a shared geography, kinship, ethnicity, and the particular territorial identity created by the institutions of 19th-century' religious life. The cloister provided a world apart, within a modern world. Vatican II brought the modern world into the cloister, and with it the emancipation, .freethinking, open future, and promise of progress that are chariacteristic of modernity.3 Religious entered into a world organized by mobility of money and work. The old institutions and the clear but at times static thinking they repre-sented gave way to the new. We welcomed this change. New Review for Religious beliefs gave moral and social coherence to our lives. Personal freedom, using one's gifts in ministry, freedom of conscience, per-sonal' development, renewed social commitment, and political reform came to the forefront Community and Identity In this rapidly changing situation, however, the type of local community which taught the virtues, values, obligations, and iden-tity of our congregations was harder to maintain. We sought to enlarge our concept of community with a greater sense of our province community and with various new forms of government at the congregational level. We argued over government, but found ourselves really arguing over community and how we belonged as we experienced growing pluralism among us. We knew that a common checkbook was not enough of a unifier in our growing diversity. But at times we imitated a culture which turned to the market and government as unifiers in the absence of weak-ening moral community.4 But we felt the incompleteness of it all. Community became largely intentional on a small scale, yet broadened to the world at the level of association and conscious-ness. In the mobility of life, community became too transitory for many and at times only an enclave of privacy,s The change brought good and bad, yet this transition has not been complete. As we discern the new times for our vow of obedience, we grabble today for a sense of identity, not just before others but among ourselves. We struggle with the identification of the lim-its of our way of life and with' questions about the appropriate moral ways of dealing with them. For moral discourse always implies boundaries and limits the stuff of community. In this we share in the moral drift of the wider culture where also there has been a weakening of centers of moral formation: family, church, community. Postmodern Challenge We have difficulty, too, with public conversations about our identity as religious because we find, unlike thirty years ago, that words such as church, sacrament, authority, and celibacy do not always have a common core of meaning among us. Years ago we argued about progressive and conservative viewpoints, but we shared a core of meaning. Today our cofiversations reveal vast differences of meaning among us. May-dTune 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments This flows from our being in a culture that lacks a broad interpretative metaphor to explain the order and meaning of the world. Beyond this lack, the uncertainty of any knowledge is widely held. The meaning of any idea is constandy in flux, and no one meaning or interpretation has any authority over another. Since people believe that one cannot know the truth, they think of "truth" as merely the momentary victor among ideas vying with one another for popular acceptance. Criticism of any and all ideas goes on and on. This is a brief description of what authors term postmodernism.6 It is also a description of where some reli-gious locate themselves. We also find a weakening in our skills for envisioning and pursuing the common good together. In a more static society, one cannot opt out of the common good, for one's own enter-tainable options are out of the question if they infringe those of another, and vice versa. In a mobile society, where community is an experience rather than a place, this face-to-face existence is weakened and along with it the ability of a group to reinforce behavior that moves beyond self-interest. We experience this in our difficulty in addressing the responsibilities and benefits of membership. ,4 Situation of Moral Hazard Charles Wilber, the economist, claims that our modern way of living separates us from one another and creates "imperfect knowledge" of one another. This in turn breaks down trust and can place us in a situation of "moral hazard." While Wilber's anal-ysis focuses on industry, I suggest that it provides a window on our experience as religious.7 A moral hazard occurs in situations where people are affected by one another's behavior. A situation is termed a moral hazard when a low trust level causes people to engage in self-defeating behaviors. An example is the distrust that can occur between an employer and employee. The employer fears that the employee is not doing her job. The employee fears that the employer will require too much work or will fire her if given the chance. In response the employee begins to withdraw and shirk her job. To remedy the situation, the employer supervises more to stop the expected laziness. If the employee could self-supervise, work would be more efficient and the company would profit. Instead, what results is a Review Jbr Religions situation where each, the employer and the employee, pursues his or her self-interest. Other individuals working in the situa-tion can observe troublesomeness growing, but no one individual can do anything about it. It becomes a climate, and a self-defeat-ing one. The result is that all individuals are worse off and the group is worse off than if they had been able to work together. Why is it so difficult in such a situation to cooperate?s Because exit is cheap and voice is expensive. Exit means to withdraw, to drop out of the conversation that would be needed to come up with a solution which serves each individual's interest and the group's interest as well. The ability to exit is facilitated by "room to move," the very meaning of a "mobile" society. Voice, on the other hand, involves the communication of one's concern to another and the willingness to work out a solution. The cost to individuals to do this often exceeds the benefits they might hope to receive. Hence, one of the two persons at odds exits. The situation of moral hazard has parallels in religious life 'today. The fragments of an earlier religious lifestyle that we live with include problematic questions about membership and the possibility of group action. We need group decision more than ever before because our problems cannot be solved by individu-als, yet our lifestyle is such that to take up the challenge of voice instead of exit is getting more and more "expensive" emotionally, spiritually, and personally. Obedience in These Times These are new times for obedience. Today the practice of obedience has to be linked to a common consciousness of one's interdependence with others, self-restraint based on a gospel life, and institutional reinforcement of those values that constrain self-interested behavior and build common meaning out of a plural-ity of experiences. Those in leadership know that government can regulate only what people allow to be regulated. Money and government are inadequate unifiers unless there is a moral com-munity based on these beliefs. Researchers today point to "affiliative decline" among reli-gious. They charge that religious lack a sense of purpose based on a belief in the meaning and viability of their way of life. This breeds a sense of disaffection or alienation. The researchers believe that congregations will decline if members have no stronger reason to remain than mere bonding.9 May-June 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments For these reasons the reclaiming of obedience today has to address issues of meaning and common commitment in a situation of pluralism. It has to further outline the path by which religious and their congregations bond the real people who are their mem-bers in the diverse situations in which they live, by shared com-mitment to and reinforcement of the values which give meaning to their lives and direction to their congregational ministry. Our language of obedience has to touch,the process by which we learn to participate--because we want to, as an affair of the heart~-in the life and mission of our congregation. We obey in the '90s:like religious before us, in imitation of Jesus, who obeyed his heavenly Father because he wanted to, out of love. He defined his whole life by this pursuit. Postmode~m means that the systems of the modern age are no longer workable. Progress, freedom of choice, and open bound-aries have not necessarily brought quality of life. We realize today that some of the systems we created in renewal are defective. We, like others in our culture, are searching for meaning, spirit, and moral direction and for new structures, policies, and organiza-tion to unify our communities. Questioning these new times of ours for obedience, there-fore, has consequences for congregational and ecclesial regener-ation as well. There is no obedience without mutuality. As we turn to obedience as affective bonding, the perspectives we gain will have ramifications for congregational response and ecclesial life. I will suggest a few of these ramifications. Obedience as Affective Bonding Obedience of the mind, or cognitive growth in one's knowl-edge of the church and the Christian mysteries, is easier to define than the path of affective bonding which the vow of obedience pri-marily involves.I° Cognitive growth can be measured by assimila-tion of important information. Formation programs, courses of study, and catechetical syllabi can put information about the church and Christian life and one's congregational spirit into a sequence of increasing complexity and hierarchy of importance. Such order-ing allows for proper intellectual formation of a religious. Affective bonding takes longer, is harder to measure, and is difficult to chart. The goal of affective learning is for persons to act as they do because it is in itself satisfying to them. Educational Review for Religious literature offers mbdels to help people reflect on the components of affective learning and bonding.To the degree that growth in obedience is a path of affective learning and bonding with God, with one's community, and with the mission of the church, :reflec-tion on such components or Stages of affective bonding can reveal important aspects of obedience today. The stages we discuss will be termed receiving, responding, valu-ing, prioritizing, and communal charac-ter/ characterization.11 Looking at them one at a time will make their meaning .and relevance clear. Receiving Obedience begins with receiving, becoming conscious of, a vocation and having a willingness to attend to people and events associated with it. All voca-tions begin with a connection: to a men-tor, to a person in a certain apostolate, to a chance advertisement, to a casual remark. Obedience begins here, long before a vow is taken. If there is any decision, it is to remain open to the sub-ject of a religious vocation. At this point there is usually no decision about the merit of the call itself. A per-son is invited to move in this stage from a consciousness of a vocation, to a willingness to receive, to a decision to give mat-ters concerning a vocation some careful attention despite com-peting choices or distractions. While receiving is a stage in obedience, it is also a recurring theme. All through religious life, there are new occasions to revisit this grace of obedience. A new member of cdmmunity is waiting to be received or a new program is being launched. New leader-ship, maybe not of one's own choosing, needs to be accepted. An intervention regarding health, retirement, or change in ministry needs to be examined. Can we even consider it? Can we receive this into our lives? Inability or refusal to "receive" one's congregational reality into one's life causes disaffection. Disaffection here is understood as an alienation from something which is important to our whole-ness or completion)2 When we make a vow of obedience, we say Our language of obedience has to touch the process by which we learn to participatem because we want to, as an affair of the heartm in the !ife and mission of our congregation. May-~une 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments we want our relationship with Jesus to happen within the con-text of this community in the church. Disaffection occurs because we are not in harmony with something which we have chosen as a life-giving relationship. Like the rich young man, we feel the sadness this creates. Congregational mail is not read, a change of ministry is never considered. Persons in authority are rejected before they act. We are living within a congregation, but not receivi ~ng it in our lives. Since obedience has ramifications for the bonding of the com-munity and its effectiveness in mission, disaffection at the. level of receiving can be contagious and can create a negative climate in a local community or a province. Congregational. Disaffection can also be caused by the inabil-ity of the congregation to receive the members. Whom do we receive today? Are we in a posture to receive new members? Do we receive our own present members, or do ageism, racism, and ideological battles cut us off from one another before we begin? Do we know how "they" think before they speak? Do we turn people off?. How do those of us in international orders receive members of cultures not our own? How do these things affect our bonding and our future? While we complain that members have "dropped out" of our congregations, how large is our own circle of inclusion? Ecclesial. In the 19th century the juridical mentality of the church regarding religious life was one of enclosure. To be a reli-gious meant to be "removed" from the world. The new congre-gations forming, however, were different from what canon law described. Hence, they required a new mentality to give them birth ecclesially. The church had to receive something with which it was not familiar. We find that new congregations of simple vows were formed over a period of a hundred years, while the main body of canon laws officially recognized as "religious" only the traditional, enclosed style of religious life.~3 A more radical dia-logue between religious life and the society produced, not the death of religious life, but a newness in its expression and form. The church had an important role in fostering this newness. What today needs to be received to allow this tradition to continue? Responding The next step in affective bonding is a response beyond mere attending to a call or invitation. In response a person does some- Review for Religious thing with, in, or,about the call, besides merely perceivin~ it~ Our first response to the call ofour vocation was to enter, to promise we would give our vocation a try. 0 Responding can begin passively as compliance and later .become voluntary. When persons begin religious life, they often do things they areasked even though the purpose of them may not seem evident at the time. Many would tell of judging early adjust-ments as "what is involved" and going along with what was asked. In order to take on the story of the community and its way of life, such a response is required. When response becomes volun-tary, an emotional response of pleasure or enjoyment occurs. .Responding to people, events, and matters of one's community is accompanied by a feeling of satisfaction. It is obvious that responding is an ongoing element in the obedience of the religious. What marks its distinctiveness is the passage from compliance to voluntary action. Compliance is a valuable obedient response .to many requests in religious life. However, it is only through voluntary action that affective bond-ing moves beyond the fragile link of compliance. The satisfac-tion that comes from voluntary'action is the free blending of the hearts and the wills, which is of the essence of obedience as affec-tive bonding. Compliance is only the handmaiden of voluntary action. Disaffection can occur at the level of responding when a per-son cannot move from compliance to voluntary action. Religious slip .if, fearing enforcement or fearing that lack of any response at all would invite emotional sanctions from. their peers, .they do only what they have to do. Disaffection sets in because in this state the religious are bereft of the normal emotional satisfaction that should come from voluntary participation in the life and mis-sion of their congregations. Congregational. The need to create meaningful avenues bf response' is key to growth in a congregation. Withdrawal breeds lack of emotional involvement, and lack of emotional involve-ment breeds withdrawal. Research claims that altruism in a group actually atrophies when it is not called forth.~4 The resources of love in a group are not fixed or limited; rather these moral resources respond positively to practice, to learning by doing, and negatively to nonpractice. This is not to recommend mak-ing~ exaggerated demands, but only to.re'commend that the group do some stretching. May-~tne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments ~'Ecclesial. The 19th century was'a ,tirfie of new needs. The tur-moil of the Industrial Revolution called ~eligious. from the clois-ter to active involvement in collective, works :of'social significance: education, social services, and healthcare:The church was called to expand its geographical reach and its ministerial presence in a society which claimed its irrelevance. The times were not unlike our own. -, 'Religious, however, ~,ere .partners with the church in meeting this crisis. Many 19th-century orders had superiors general and were not directly under the authority of a local bishop. This new jurisdictional authority in the church enabled the coordination of ministerial works which were transdiocesan and which in turn established the credibility of the church in sectors where it was not previously received,t5 Response of religious to the ,church and response of the mag-isterial church to religious have to continue this tradition for the sake of both the church and religious life, for neither ~prospers in a climate of alienation. The crisis of the 19th century stimulated the creation of a n~w authoritative identity in the church. What is needed today to. strengthen the relationship between religious and the magisterial church is 'for each to view the other novas a problem but as a partner. At this valuing stage in the process of obedience, members make it clear that membership in community is worth something to them. There is enough participation in the life and mission of orie's congregation and enough identification with its way of life so that other people readily identify the members as belonging to the group, _ A later stage of valuing consists of efforts to grow as members, Opportunities for renewal and deepening are sought out. Here there 'is an actual preference for religious life and its values. One is committed by choice. There is an investment of time and energy beyogd the minimum. Members manifest a growing conviction and loyalty regarding the values of religious life and a desire to convinceothers or at~least share their own faith experience. Here the satisfaction felt earlier as pleasure is transformed into an aroused need or drive to act and grow as members of the congregation within the ~hurch and society. There is a motivation to live the life to its fullest extent. Commitment is measured by Review for Religious the extending of such dedicated living over a period of time and by renewed desire to continue. The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of prefei'ence.One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. One willingly considers community priorities in selection of a mission. One willingly chooses to work through a difficult community situation. One faithfully stands by someone in illness in spite of its time-consuming nature. This is the dynamic of valuing. This growth enables the member not just to par~ ticipate passively in community life, but to function actively. A~ fundamental values are owned and appropriated deeply, they also can be translated into new forms and expressions~ Congregational. Conviction regarding the life and mission of the community breeds new endeavors and investment in the worth of meaningful traditions. Dispiritedness, however, grows in a con-gregational climate of doubt about the value of the group, its authenticity, and its future. There is no longer a desire to invite new members. There are no new initiatives. There is apathy and lack of commitment to act and grow as members. People have no energy for anything but super-ficial reminiscing and required presence. This is a great danger especially in a congregational culture which has relied on com-pliance and force as its bond of membership. No one individual can treat this doubt. A~ a situation of moral hazard, it requires group ac6on and leadership. Without oppor-tunitiesto move from compliance to voluntary action, religious are not likely to deepen .their valuing of their congregational life, for they know little of the emotional satisfaction that. comes from voluntary action. Many congregations today are discussing processes of "re-membering," of calling their members to reinvest in new ways that could help them overcome the apathy and fear which threat-ens them. When such a decision of valuing occurs, it leads to the more mature obedience of the next stages. Ecdesial. The effort of the Synod to study the value of religious life was for us religious a supportive moveas we seek or explore The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of preference. One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. May-ffTtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments our meaning and role now and into the new millennium. We reli-gious need the affirmation of the church, not just passively, but to help us participate in its life actively and creatively within its own re-creation. On our part, what values does our experience rec-ognize as essential in spite of the rapid change we'have under-gone? What support do we need so that w& can translate these values into new fo~ms~and expressions? What do we need and what do we not need from the church? If we religious do not want our relationship to the magisterial church to be based on compliance and ~force, then we too have to do our communal work in taking hold of our future. Prioritiz~ ing As one matures in religious life, membership has to be inte-grated with other values: career goals, family relationships, beliefs, coping, with personal crises, new knowledge and experiences and opportunitie~. Religious have to see how life in community and in the church relates to other dimensions of their life. ~ The first step in prioritizing is a willingness to think issues through. The next step is to bring together a complex of values, possibly disparate values, into some semblance of order and mean-ing. Since renewal has brought a plethora :of experiences into a community, it is critical that the group be' able to sit and talk about .these new yearnings. This ability to talk,will help keep the bonds of~community realistic and centered in the present. For instance, communities can ask how members experience com-' munity when they live apart from the group. Religious need to .relate multicultural experiences, new ways of prayer, educational o'pportunities, changes in the church, mis-sion experience, and women's issues with their membership in religious community. This may require familiarity with new areas of church teaching or involvement in groups within or outside . the community that gr.apple with how the gospel and new per-sonal experiences impinge on one another. For instance, religious who are working through various types of addictive behaviors can learn together the meaning of a twelve-step program in their lives as religious. While this is, an affective process, a sharing of the heart, it also involves cognitive growth, new information, and the ability to generalize and engage in abstract thinking. It requires accu-rate information. In many instances it requires good theology. Review for Religious How do women's issues, church membership, and fidelity to reli-gious commitment relate? How is one a feminist and a member of the church? How does one integrate his desire for political reform and his commitment to the priesthood, which usually means he cannot hold public office? How does one uphold one's valuing of community life and yet reach out in a ministry that makes com-munity contact difficult? Prioritizing is an act of obedience. The organization of values as one prioritizes may result in their synthesis into new ways of membership and deeper investment in the church and community. It is obvious that prioritizing is a principal task in fol-lowing a mature religious lifecourse. Those who take on the hard work of prioritizing achieve a high result, that is, an internally consistent integration of membership in their congregation and church with other aspects of their lives. Congregational. VChen we look at the religious of the 19th century, we can see they did this prioritizing. They integrated religious commitment with an entirely new cul-ture of the Industrial Revolution. They influenced the culture and created a new expression of religious life. They distinguished themselves from "regular" cloistered religious life by collective works of social significance: education, social services, and health-care. In the eyes of the church, it was the leaving of the world which constituted the religious state. However, these religious were immersed in the world. How were they religious? They rejected the upward mobility of liberal society by differentiating their activity from other forms of work in the society. They were active in the society yet were removed by social position. They were "placed" by obedience in the works of their congregation. Their works were not those of the new profitable capitalist cor-porations, although there is evidence of scattered experiments with founding "Christian factories" to give the poor employment and a sense of Christian community.~6 We religious'today are called to the task of integrating our charism with the new situation of our culture. We still struggle with how we have left the world yet are immersed in it as a place of revelation and service. This struggle to achieve a balanced understanding will overcome the feeling of powerlessness, isola-tion, and frustration in the face of a vast and complex future. Prioritizing is an act of obedience. May-Jvtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments Those who avoid prioritizing see the choice of religious as between embracing everyday secular life as they know it and going back to a pre-Vatican life based on a religious worldview that no longer communicates, This all-or-nothing viewpoint eliminates the possibility of synthesis between the real world of everyday life and the transcendent one which prioritizing calls forth. Ecclesial. For this prioritizing to occur, there has to be a cli-mate in the church in which one can safely explore new avenues of thought and living, engaging in critical reflection and respectful dissent until the value and relationship of new ideas to the mysteries of the Christian life is.evident. Today something is perceived as credible, not just because the church says it, but because it makes human sense. Religious need to be involved in helping the church make sense to the world and the world make sense to the church. Needed church reforms such as giving women more .decision-mak-ing power cannot be ignored by religious orders if they hope at the same time to promote the credibility of the church in first-world society; nor can economic, social, and political reforms be supported only halfheartedly in poverty situations in both the first and third worlds. These corporate stances of prioritizing mark the communal path of obedience within a congregation. Communal Character/Characterization At this stage of obedience, the values of membership in their congregation have a place in the individual members' lives. The values are organized into some kind of internally consistent sys-tem and have controlled the behavior of the individual members for enough time that they are now readily seen as persons who have adopted "living the life" of the congregation. It is impor-tant to note that such a stage of obedience does not come until members have had to prioritize, that is, integrate the new dis-coveries of their gei~eration with the gospel and the founding charism. There is no "cheap grace" in religious life, and one gen-eration cannot hand on to another a ready-made commitment. At this stage of characterization, issues surrounding mem-bership no longer arofise emotion or affect except when the indi-vidual is threatened or challenged. By now .the members are described and characterized as individual persons by their iden-tification with the congregation. It has been integrated into their entire philosophy of life or worldview. To an outsider, identification with the congregation is so clear Review for Religious that it makes individual members predictable and comprehensible. The values of the community are important determiners of the way the various members approach a problem, determining what they will see as important in it. In other words, the living charism becomes a principle of ongoing and daily discernment and opens the religious to the full call of the gospel. The values of the charism will limit the things that members will take into account in attempting to find a solution .to a prob-lem. They provide a focus and an identity. They will al

The Mercury December, 1909 HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard ALBANY, N. Y. Makers of CAPS AND GOWNS To Gettysburg College. Lafayette, Lehigh. Dickinson. State College, Univ. of Penn sylvania, Harvard, Yale, Princeton. Wellesley, Bryn Mawrand the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods of Degrees To The Class of '10. We have begun our college campaign for next Spring and Bummer. Over 25,000 employers look to Hapgoods for their men in sales, offices and technical positions in all departments. Most of these firms use college men. They arrange with us to cover the entire college world for them. We have a unique proposition o* immediate interest to any college man who will be open for a propo-sition. Let us tell you about it. Write to-day. !\\ITMOJVJMJ OttGJJVIZjlTlOJV UJf BltjiMJV ItUliKIillS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. THE) RIGHT TAILOR IN THE) WRONG LEGATION J. W. B^etim 2ND STORY iST NATIONAL BANK BUILDING After April ist will occupy room now occupied by Gettysburg National Bank WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. HUMMELSTOWN BROWN STONE COMPANY QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. Waltonville, Duphin Co., Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK Telegraph and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visiting quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES $2.00 PER DAY. £iver-y Qitacruecl. D. R Gqtftfo.ll, Proprietor. EXPENSES IN COLLEGE $250 cash or a 3'ear in College cau be earned by one young man or young lady in each county in the United States. Plan easy and does not interfere with other occupation. No money required. For particulars address M. H. PEMBERTON, Columbia, Missouri. IWYSSfi iMMENl[STORE Successors to the E. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. ^^M PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. «««»*«#««*«»«»«»»«»««a«4He^»#«»««««#«««««#ftftft«« i • «* • « « «««« «* » »« » »» «« » « « ««« » « »»♦ * » « *«« ***« « **« ««« ** «« * **«««« Seligrqciri ARE GETTYSBURG'S MOST RELIABLE THJLO^S *£ And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. <& Give Them Your Patronage ««« «« »• »«« « «« «««« * »«««« « «»» »*» »« ««»»««« »« ««*« »« « »««»*»««» » *«»«»«« *ft»«ft«»«tt*««#««aftfttf»ftft«»«»tt«ft«#«ft««*«««ftft«###« TATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. * innrFHS special I ^pasSS! ' i Is open for the fir I fe^ -- ^CsJJI munity who will * MUIS^SS^&I Piano or Organ. A Special Proposition rst person in an; com-deal with us for a WEAVER ORGANS AND PIANOS have no question mark to the quality. I I11I 1 I II 1 I MAIL THIS COUPON TO US. Send me special proposition for the purchase of a Piano. Name . Address WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, YORK, PA , U S A. ■j- "it ■I- "it *± nt 'M "it "it 't£it. w 'i- M/ tjt Wt * '•V 3t For Artistic Photographs Prices Always Right -GO TO— TjPTOjsr T|e Lutheran The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut HARRY JL SEFTON'S BARBER SHOP 35 Baltimore St. Barbers Supplies a Specialty. \lso choice line of Cigars. Pulliciitioii Society No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything' and everything' in the way of Books for Churches. Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up ami develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. THE IUI ERCURV The Literar7 Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1909 No. 7 CONTENTS. THE IMPORTANCE OP HEREDITY IN DECIDING A MAN'S OCCUPATION 2 WM. A. LOGAN, '10. THE FIRST CHRISTMAS.—Poem ' 5 NEWTON D. SWANK, '11. THE MUNICIPAL BATHING BEACH AT WASHING-TON G D. E. A. K. HER REASON 8 JI. IT. KRUMRINE, '11. ART. II.—TENNYSON'S CENTENARY, AUGUST 1809- 1909 12 REV. CHARLES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, A.M., B.D. THE HONOR SYSTEM SHOULD PREVAIL AT PENN-SYLVANIA COLLEGE 15 MARY M. BAUSCH, '11. THE AMERICAN BUSINESS MAN 17 HARVEY W. STRAYER, '10. NEITHER PESSIMISM NOR OPTIMISM 20 FLORENCE G. HEATHCOTE, '10. DOES SMOKING AND DRINKING INTERFERE WITH INTELLECTUAL PROGRESS ? 22 H. F. BAUGHMAN, '10. SPAIN'S CRIME 24 EARL S. RUDISILL, '12. THE POSSIBILITIES FOR IMPROVEMENTS IN GET-TYSBURG 26 HARVEY S. HOSIIOUR, '10. EDITORIALS 28 EXCHANGES 31 z. THE MERCURY. THE IMPORTANCE OF HEREDITY IN DECIDING A MAN'S OCCUPATION. WM. A. LOGAN, '10. jO consider the question of the importance of heredity in determining a man's occupation we must see what effect heredity has in general upon the life of a man, and since occupation is an outgrowth of imitation, we must determine the effect of heredity, in particular, upon imitation. But let us first see what heredity means in this connection. There are those who would tamper with the term "heredity" in its purity, corrupting it by making it cover its own natural ground and that-rightly belonging to "early environment." We prefer, and justifiably so, to look upon it in its own sphere and to exclude any contribution from this other factor. Hence, we define heredity as the name given to the transmission of gains or losses in organic development from parent to child. And upon this definition rests the solution of our question. Heredity, certainly, has importance, however limited, in de-termining a man's line of work—in fact it has importance as a determining factor in man's whole life. Taking our definition, we admit a transmission takes place in the generation of chil-dren, but note that it is a transmission of gains or losses in organic development, and hence, becomes a question of large or small capacity; for it is easy to understand that the parent who lias gained in organic development will transmit to the child an organism of superior development and therefore of greater ca-pacity. The reverse is also true of the parent who has lost in organic development. And now, although we admit this, at the same time we know from observation, that unless favorable con-ditions are brought to bear upon the life of that child of superior development, that superiority will be overcome, largely, by the lack of said conditions, and, by the time the person is ready for occupation the factor of superior development will be so subju-gated to the unfavorable conditions that it will be recognized as playing a very small part in determining the occupation which the person will take up. On the other hand, let the child of in-ferior organic development be surrounded by favorable condi- THE MERCURY. tions—what do we notice ? Simply this, that although it cannot exceed a certain limit of development, it can and will, by virtue of these favorable conditions, overcome its inferiority, and, again, we find it true that heredity plays a part, but a very small part, in determining the occupation the child will follow. This ex-plains the phenomenon of great, powerful men born of lowly and sometimes ignorant parents, yet by virtue of later environment they become the powers that they are. Now, that we may get the really vital factor which solves our question, we must consider the element, "conscious imitation." It is this, after all, which determines the occupation however true it is that it too, has its detriments. To be concise we shall quote Baldwin, who sets forth plainly the rise of conscious imi-tation, and heredity's part in this rise. He cites the fact of the late rise of conscious imitation: sixth or seventh month. This fact may be accounted for on the very evident ground of the distinction of congenital functions from the new accommo-dations of the individual child. The child's early months are taken up with its vegetative functions. The machinery of he-redity is working itself out in the new individual." And fur-ther: "In the main, therefore, there is instinctive tendency to functions of the imitative type, and to some direct organic imi-tations; but those clear conscious imitations which represent new accommodations and acquirement are not as such instinc-tive, but come later as individual acquirements." Here we see heredity limited to the determining of action in the early months of the individual's life, and giving way to that more potent fac-tor, conscious imitation which in turn is determined by environ-ment. But we have not said that heredity has no power in de-termining a man's occupation and it is for us to show now, how it limits environment. Tins has been indicated above, but not explained. Let us take the ease of transmission of losses. The parent is frail and weak and the child inherits a similar frame and weak-ness; then no amount of habit, custom or education will make that child capable to assume an occupation which requires a large, strong body. And so with the inheritance of weak organs of whatever name—a weak heart, brain, a diseased stomach, etc. —inheritance of any of these means that habit, custom or educa- THE MERCURY. tion, in a word, environment, can only succeed in making the individual fit for an occupation which will not involve any strains whatever upon the weak or diseased organs. On the side of the trasmission of gains environment docs not have this limiting influence, but, as was stated explicitly above, a favorable environment tends to produce further gains, while an unfavorable environment limits even the organism of su-perior development. To take a specific case, we know a man, born of strong, healthy, intellectual parents, whose life was somewhat in this order—school (where he ranked high) work, (first in a store then in a factory with his father, then at a trade); night school, college, seminary, and ministry. The observed facts show that the man was born with an organism of superior development which was favorably environed during his early years,—then a less favorable influence came to bear, and, (that he might have more money), he went to work. Here we see environment showing itself in two directions—from store down to factory, and from factory up to trade. But finally, en-vironment lets his organism work along favorable lines, giving him a continuous uplift through the stages from night school to college, to seminary, and to his occupation. To sum up briefly, then, we admit that a transmission of ca-pacity takes place in generation of children, but we contend that this capacity may be limited or increased according to the un-favorable or favorable environment of the individual. We say that heredity is replaced by conscious imitation, to a large de-gree and imitation is the performing of those things which we see being performed about us. And when it comes to the de-termination of an occupation wc, in choosing, imitate those whom we have found it pleasant to imitate in other matters, or we choose an occupation for which our habits, customs or educa-tion has made us adept. And all this leads to the truth: "Man is a creature of environment," however true it may be that lie himself determines largely, his environment. THE MERCURY. THE FIRST CHRISTMAS. NEWTON D. SWANK, '11. In snowy-white December's dreary days, There comes to mind that bright'ning tale of glory; Of how the angels chanted hymns of praise, And to the shepherds told the wondrous story. Good shepherds, keeping watch o'er flocks by night In that same country where the Christ was born, Were dazed as they beheld a glorious sight Ere they had caught a glimpse of waking morn. They, sore afraid, drew back with cries of fear From that great shining light sent by the Lord. Then God's own angel did to them appear; Above, in radiant brilliancy, he soared. The angel to the shepherds softly said: "Fear not, I bring you tidings of great joy, Which to all people shall be widely spread; For unto you the Christ, your king, is born! This new-born babe is Christ, the Lord of men; In manger lying wrapped in swaddling clothes, Him .you will find in David's Bethlehem"— Then suddenly a host of angels rose. They chanted soft in heavenly array, And then sang: "Glory be to God on high, And on earth peace, good-will toward men alway." The joyous shepherds were no longer shy. As these celestial angels went from them The shepherds spoke to one another thus: "Let us now even go to Bethlehem To see this Son that God hath sent to us." THE MEECUEY. They came with haste, and found sweet Mary mild, Good Joseph with the oxen standing by; Within the manger lay the Holy Child,— God's gift to man His Love doth verify. When they the babe had seen they spread abroad The saying, which was told to them about This child, the precious gift for man from God; And all who heard sent up a prayer devout. The shepherds, glorifying God, returned; With great rejoicing they left Bethlehem, Where they such wondrous things had seen and learned; But Mary kept these things and pondered them. THE MUNICIPAL BATHING BEACH AT WASHINGTON. D. E. A. K. |ASHIN"GT01ST, the city beautiful, home of great men and fair women, has like many other large cities come to realize that not only in the palaces of kings, but also in the homes of the poor, are brain and brawn, beauty and grace to be found, for although frequently styled, "the city of diplomats and politicians," she has within her confines many from the poorer classes to whom are denied many of the neces-sities, not to speak of the luxuries of life. The children of these poor, compelled to bear the sweltering heat of summer, suffered without any means of relief. Seaboard cities are fanned by cooling breezes and afford to the younger element all the bathing facilities the ocean allows. Country towns have woods and the inevitable swimming hole. Washington, although situated on the Potomac, is blessed with none of these natural bounties, for due to the depth of the water and the currents, the river has been shunned rather than sought. What was to be done in the face of such conditions? Action THE MERCURY. 7 followed swift on the heels of the realization of the necessity. The citizens of the district petitioned the commissioners and they readily granted to the committee appointed, the old Fish Commission pools and grounds and a money appropriation to make the necessary repairs and alterations. Thus one of the city's most beneficent charities had its beginning. It was but a beginning, and that only, for since this the labor expended has been almost herculean. Unused pools have been filled in, low ground has been graded, drainage has been put in, locker houses and office buildings have been provided and con-crete swimming pools built. Has it been worth while? For an answer I would ask you to go to the Bathing Beach grounds some afternoon about one o'clock. When one is a full half mile from the pools already the small boy with his bathing suit is in evidence. Although Wash-ington is a city of "magnificent distances," yet from the out-skirts they come, rich and poor, big and little, young and old, and all in a hurry. When they arrive at the grouds all willingly get in line to receive their free admission slips, for a record of the name, age and residence of all patrons is kept. At the small boys' hours the big fellow declares, "he's only a kid;" at the older boys' hours, the little one is a man grown, supports a family, "and has chewed tobacco for a year;" few such excuses however, are offered during the ladies' hours. If the troubled waters in the pools at Washington could work miraculous cures ,many would be the number healed, for from early morning to evening few are the minutes in which the pools are not "disturbed"—and not always by angels either. Splash! Splash! Splash ! All day long. One can see hundreds in the pools or waiting on the wharves. Here a senate page is having a game of tag with a "newsy" who for an hour has dropped his cry of "Sta'-Times- -Evenin' Pape," and is enjoying a dip; there "Tubby" Regan, winner of many races, paddles in his inevitable tub, joyfully ignorant of the fact that Johnny Shugrne is just ready to spill him from his slippery throne. There are shallow pools for waders, deep ones for swimmers,. "muddy" ones for the dusky patrons; all are accomodated, all are-happy, all are safe. Swimming instructors and life guards with 8 THE MERCURY. ceaseless vigil keep careful watch over the bathers, so accidents are few, fatalities none. And who is largely responsible for the instruction and con-tinuance of this factor which has proved to be an unspeakable blessing to many? Dr. Wm. B. Hudson, the present superin-tendent, "the swimmer's friend, looked Up to by the boys, re-spected by the men, asked for by the ladies; a "West Point man^ a University of Pennsylvania graduate who has entrusted to other hands his large profitable practice that he might for a mere pittance give his time and energy for the good of "the other man." All honor to such truly great men, who in a spirit of widest altruism forget self in their consideration for their fel-lows. ± ± HER REASON. M. H. KRUJIBIXE, '11. SJSPT this a grand night? Beyond description!" "It certainly is." "It is an ideal night to take a walk. Nothing would be quite as enjoyable to me as a walk. Will we take one?" Oh !— The t-t-ti—w-well! Let's take a walk." Such were the words exchanged between Jack Roberts, the big Sophomore class president and Miss Drew, the Freshman co-ed, respectively, as the former was leaving Miss Drew after having spent a most enjoyable evening in the company of the Fresh-man co-ed. It was at 11 o'clock and the walk came as a sur-prise to both. It was quite a novelty to these two representa-tives of hostile classes. True, Miss Drew had reflected on the time but the night was too grand to resist. Then, too, we must not forget that one was a class president and the other a class secretary and loyal Freshman co-ed. "Hustle on your wraps, Miss Drew, and we'll be out enjoying the glorious night," said Jack, his head in a whirl. The very fact that he had spent the evening with Miss Drew was enough THE MERCURY. to fluster him for a week and the walk in addition was enough to cause a brain-storm. He had eyed the Freshman co-ed with hungry eyes many a time as she appeared in chapel, on the campus, in dining hall or wherever she chanced to come within sight. Many a time had the rustle of her dress, the wave of her golden tresses or the sparkle of her beautiful, blue eyes caused his heart to take a sud-den leap and flutter beyond control. What this present occasion did we can only conjecture. Then, too, Mis Drew, the popidar and generally admired Freshman co-ed had not been entirely averse to the attentions paid her by the big Sophomore president. In fact, she had played several games of tennis with him, but never had Jack teen honored with her company as he was to-night. But the walk is not yet taken. "Oh! I am ready," was the quick reply, as Margaret, the co-ed, hastily donned her wraps. Soon they were off for a stroll in the country, under the open canopy of heaven, bestudded with countless stars. The silvery moon, too, was shedding its gor-geous light on the earth beneath. Thus they went forth to drink in the fresh air and beauties of the night. ISTor was their en-joyment of the walk unexpressed. "Isn't this evening perfectly charming. It is an ideal ni , I mean, it is an ideal evening. An evening such as poets love to describe. How grand it is and my enjoyment of it cannot be expressed." Such were the words of Margaret as they went along. "You have expressed my feelings exactly, Miss Drew," was the scant reply of Jack. He had other feelings to contend with. Feelings such as scarcely permitted him to open his mouth lest they give utterance,—to his sorrow—perhaps. He was perplexed and rather meditative. But he was well aware of all that hap-pened and was a very earnest audience to Margaret, reflecting carefully on all she said, which was much. Margaret apparently was enjoying the walk so much that she did not think of any-thing else. She was very talkative, as if for some specific pur-pose. As the walk was continued the perplexity of Jack did not cease, but rather increased. He was perturbed and it was only 10 THE MERCURY. a matter of time when it would become evident to his companion. '"Shall I say it ?—Will I tell her ?" mused the big class president. "How will she take it? No. I dare not, I must not, for when I mentioned Borneo and Juliet in connection with this night, she made a queer move and uttered an unexplainable sound. She objected to any such thought. Did she object? Perhaps she winced for another reason," mused Jack further. At this time the representatives of the two hostile classes were quite some distance from the college. It would take them about half an hour to get back and then they would have to walk briskly. Yet they kept on apparently unaware of the time and distance. All of a sudden an outrageous yell and din reached their ears. It was a din and it kept up for some time. Pres-ently Jack broke the silence caused by the din with the words, "What noise?" Margaret, innocent as a Freshman only can be, of course did not know. But all of a sudden, as if becoming suddenly aware of the time and distance from the college, she exclaimed rather excitedly, "Let's turn back. I fear the hour is growing late and we are some distance from the college—a good half hour's walk!" "Say a good hour's walk," said Jack as he turned to go back before he was aware of it. They journeyed back but the hideous noise and din marred their walk. How they did not know, but even Margaret was silent and Jack could not muse as before, with such an uproar going on. Furthermore he was afraid that he should be back at college, on the campus where the noise was made according to all indications. He was a class president and a Sophomore, too. What might not his class be doing. They were trained to "work" under him and without him they were as sheep without a shepherd. Perhaps the Freshmen are busy. He became alarmed the closer they came. His nerves were all a-tinkle. Just then they had come close enough to distinguish some words. "Sophomores! ""Sophomores!" "Freshmen!" "Freshmen!" "Freshmen!" burst upon their ears. "The Flagscrap!" burst forth Jack, as he made a sudden leap as if to run. THE MERCURY. 11 "Pardon me, Miss Drew, I—I forgot." "Merely class spirit," was the reply. The fact was only too well known to both now. The long looked for flag scrap had at last "come off." Then Jack did think. Here he was while the flag scrap was. going on, on the college campus. To him the walk ended in a tragedy, at least so he thought then. As they hastened back they wished their respective classes suc-cess as was only natural. Since the journey before them lasted about half an hour more, the former feelings of Jack came back. He had not said anything yet, but had come to the conclusion ihat Margaret was rather favorably inclined towards him. He gave that as her reason for taking a walk with him at such an hour. He could see no other reason. She surely must have had one and this to him seemed most plausible. Finally they reached their destination and in delicious pain Jack left the Freshman co-ed. He had not forgotten the class fight and so at the top of his speed he arrived on the college cam-pus. Yelling was at par now but it was all for the Freshmen for they had withstood the Sophomores for thirty-five minutes and their flag was still intact. Thus they had won the scrap since thirty minutes was the required time. The reason the Sophomores could not harm the Freshman flag-was because they lacked a leader—their president. No one knew where he was. That night Jack went to his room rather crestfallen. But then again he was happy for he had not forgotten the walk with one whom he idolized—yes that's what he really did. He still had hope, more strongly than ever, now, that he had left her and had time to reflect, that she had a good reason for taking the walk with him. "Yes, love was her reason" thought Jack. Next day one could see the Freshmen strutting about in high glee over the victory of the night before. After chapel, they all, at different times, and in small groups, congratulated Miss Drew, their secretary, on the noble part she had played in the flag scrap. Yes, the Freshman co-ed had a reason for taking a walk, at midnight, with the big, husky Sophomore president. 12 THE MERCURY. ART II.—TENNYSON CENTENARY AUGUST 1809-1909— Tennyson and In Memoriam. BY REV. CHARLES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, A.M., Ji.U. IEOM the selections of Tennyson's poems you will notice his work is beautiful for its melody, and harmony. You notice that he possesses a true love for nature and has a noble Christian character. This is manifested in his friendship for Iiallam. There has been very few classic friendships in the history of the world that have come down to us. We know the story of the true friendship, Damon, a Pythago-rean, bore for Pythias. Pythias had been condemned to death by Dionysius I, of Syracuse. Pythias asked to be set at liberty for a short time to settle up his affairs. Damon pledged his own life for that of his friend, who he knew would return. Pythias did return before the day appointed for his execution. Diony-sius was so deeply impressed that he released Damon from his pledge and gave Pythias his freedom. Again we know the true friendship David bore toward Jona-than. In the account given in I Samuel, 23:17-18, we see this friendship manifested. "And he said unto him: Fear not for the hand of Saul my father shall not find thee; and thou shalt be king over Israel, and I shall be next unto thee; and that also Saul my father knoweth. And they two made a covenant before the Lord: and David abode in the woods, and Jonathan went to his house." Thus Tennyson had a true deep friendship founded on love for Arthur Henry Hallam. He reveals his friendship and love in "In Memoriam." Arthur Henry Hallam, the son of the historian Henry Hal-lam, was born Feb. 1, 1811, in London. At an early age he traveled with his parents in Italy and Switzerland. As a youth he was very precocious. After attending a private school, he was sent to Eton. Here he remained until 1827. In October, 1828, he matriculated at Trinity College, Cam-bridge. Here he became acquainted with Tennyson. There THE MERCURY. 13 was formed a friendship which was to iast forever and which was destined to be immortalized in literature. Thus should all friendships be made, not to be broken at will, but to last forever. Friendships should not be made with the purpose of using those friends for selfish motives, but that true communion of soul and spirit might exist here on earth and in the realms of eternal life. Thus the best friendships are made in mature years when one. understands the congenialities of human nature. Furthermore, the true friendships formed in college days last on through life. You know Cicero speaks of friendship thus: "Virtus, virtus inquam C. Fanni et tu Q Muci et conciliat amicitias et eonser-rat. C. De Amit XXVIII, 53 page. Emerson also says: "My careful heart was free again, 0 friend, my bosom said. Through thee alone the sky is arched, Through thee the rose is red; All things through thee take nobler form, And look beyond the earth, The mill—round of our fate appears A sim path in thy worth." Young Hallam did not distinguish himself in Greek, Latin or Mathematics while at college. His work in literature and essay writing was brilliant. He was an orator of strong ability, for he obtained a prize on declamation in 1831. He was well versed in history. He graduated from Trinity in 1832 and in October 1832, he took up the study of law. In August of 1833, Arthur accompanied his father on a trip to the continent from which he was not to return alive. He died at Vienna, Sept. 15, 1833, from an attack of intermittent fever. His remains were brought to England and interred on the 3rd of January, 1834, in Clevedin Church, Somersetshire. Hallam as a young man in his earlier college days wrote many poems which were graceful, and pleasing. We quote this one: 14 THE MERCURY. '"Alfred, I would that you beheld me now, Sitting beneath a mossy wild wall. On a quaint bench which to that structure old Winds an accordant curve." He also wrote several essays of a philosophic character, which show careful thought and preparation. Thus Tennyson as a tribute of honor to his beloved friend wrote "In Memoriam" which was first published in 1850. It is probable when Tennyson first wrote this poem that it was not his intention to publish it. There is no regular order in the poem. Tennyson wrote as his soul passed through its various states, conditions, and feelings. At one time Tennyson lost his note book. We can imagine the deep distress of the poet until it was recovered. Hallam had made a deep impression on Tennyson's life and character. He was a congenial, winsome fellow. Hallam's death was a double shock to Tennyson. In the first place his friendship was clear and indissoluble. In the second place Hal-lam was betrothed to the poet's sister Emily at the time of his death. Thus Tennyson depicts his sorrow, varied feelings, love, etc., in the poem. Prof. Genung says the theme of the poem is: "That love is intrinsically immortal." He also divides the poem thus: Prologue. Introductory Stage I—XXVII. First Cycle—XXVIII—LXXVI1. Second Cycle—LXXVIII—CIII. Third Cycle—CIV—CXXXI. Epilogue. Clianibersburg, Pa. THE 3IEKCU1SY. IB THE HONOR SYSTEM SHOULD PREVAIL AT PENNSYL-VANIA COLLEGE. MARY M. BAUSCH, '11. iX.tlic discussion of this subject, first it must be shown what is meant by the honor system. By this we mean that men and women are put on their honor, that they are pledged to perform all duties with truth, with hon-esty, and with, fairness. They are pledged not to cheat. When a man is put on his honor he is given an opportunity to prove himself a responsible being. The honor system should prevail at Pennsylvania College for two reasons. First, because the morality of the student body would be improved. Second, because the reputation of the institution would be raised in the eyes of the public. The question may be ashed, Is there any honor in our student body? The only way to prove that this exists is to have the honor system introduced into the college government. When once a student is placed on his honor he comes to realization of his position. He is no longer a mere high school boy. He is a man and must be responsible. If he is not responsible he must be taught to be. And the only way to teach responsibility is by placing the student in a responsible position. This in itself is Fufficient reason why the honor system should prevail. Our honor is our most highly prized possession. Can we en-trust our honor to another? Can we place it in the care of pro-fessors, while under his instructions and receive it at will when we pass through the portals of the institution? The four years passed here are to the average student the most formative period of his life. This is the time for you to learn to depend on your-self, to be a leader even if you have not acquired ability suffici-ent to do so. The honor system will help to accomplish these things. It will arouse in the student the desire to do right. The objection is raised that the honor system does not make all honest. This is true. No system can make a man do his work honestly if he is determined to cheat. But a public feeling is aroused against cheating, this public feeling has greater influ-ence than anything else in governing man's actions. 1G THE HEKCUKY. For the honor system to succeed at Pennsylvania College it is necessary for the student to be willing to undergo the conditions which the honor system demands. He must be ready to inform against anyone who cheats. The student must be wholly impar-tial. He cannot allow private friendships and claims to inter-fere with the discharge of his duty. This is one of the greatest principles in the training of the future citizens for our country. A keen sense of honor is especially in demand in piiblic and pri-vate life. It is even more important than education. The educated man who lacks high moral character is more at a disad-vantage than the honest man who is uneducated. The honor system is a stimulus to better work in general. It does not cover examinations only, but it also covers assigned tasks and private work. Besides the greatest cheating does not occur in examinations. It occurs more in written work done out of the class-room where the authority of the instructor does not extend. For example the writing of themes and in mathemati-cal problems. It has been said, "To cheat is one thing, to cheat a teacher is another." This especially applies to private work over which the instructor has no immediate authority. The only way to root out this fault is through the honor system. For only through the students themselves can any reform in this di-rection take place. I have said that the honor system would raise the reputation of the college in the eyes of the public. The most important part of the college is its student body. The student in a large sense makes the college. If he is dishonest, he causes a shadow of dishonesty to be cast over the institution from which he is graduated. The value of his diploma is lowered when the pub-lic once learns that by cheating he is able to pass his examina-tions. The standard of the college is made manifest by the standard of integrity and ability of its students and alumni. If the honor system prevailed at Pennsylvania College, the faculty, or rather the individual professors would be relieved of a very unpleasant duty. The duty of a spy. The imputation that the professor is a policeman would be removed. This is a very strong reason why the honor system should be adopted here. There are many students who have good impulses but lack moral strength. We all recognize the power, a strong personality . u THE MERCURY. 17 has over a group of minds. The boy upon entering college is most easily influenced by the older memebrs of the institution. Xow, if a high sense of honor were fostered in the college, the morals of the Freshman would be strengthened by the example of high honor existing among i\pperelassmen. The student who sees a high standard of honor in a fellow-student may in time be brought to adopt it for himself. Again, there are students who object to giving help, both in examinations and in private work from a sense of honesty to their professors and from principle. Consequently they are open to much criticism. If the honor system were established, they would be supported by the student body as a whole and freed from the charge of selfishness and stinginess. Finally the honor system would be the means for rooting out the idler, the man who will not work, the man who depends on getting through on somebody else's goods. Many of our institutions have established the honor system in all departments and a number of them in several departments. Among those institutions where the honor system has proven suc-cessful are Princeton, Cornell, Lehigh, Virginia, Washington and Jefferson, Washington and Lee, North Carolina, Williams, and Amherst. The methods of teaching at our college are simi-lar to those of the above named institutions, and since in general the character of students is much the same, there is no reason why the honor system should not be as successful here as in those institutions. The only to test its efficiency is to try it. THE AMERICAN BUSINESS MAN. HARVEY W. STRAYER, '10. HE American business man is one who makes an honest effort to earn a livelihood. He is the marvel of the world. He is the culmination of American industrial development. He is the one great, single, vital force responsible for America's supremacy in commerce and industry. To him we must bow our thanks for an hundred comforts which were but yesterday luxuries. 18 THE MERCURY. Through the energy, perseverance, imagination and ingenuity of the business man, feats can be performed undreamed of by the most optimistic ancestor. He has bound our country together by bands of steel; he has harnessed Niagara and a thousand other water-falls and lighted our cities with that indefinable something —electricity. He has laid the Atlantic cable and made Great Britain our own neighbor. He has united New York with San Francisco and made the State of the Golden Gate our door-mat to the Orient. He has braved the dangers of the subterranean depths and digs up for our use the precious stones and metals, and pipes to the surface the no less precious fluids. These things the American business man has done and more. He is no longer subject to nature's laws but defying even the power of gravity, sails through the air whither-so-ever he will. The American business man is above all a man of ingenuity. He harnesses nature and guides her in her own work of produc-tion. In our western country, the arid plains of yesterday are the gardens of to-day. By great engineering feats, water streams are coaxed from original courses and by proper care are made to make the parched and burned desert to bloom and blossom as the rose. In a word our business men have made living a pleasure when a century ago it was a positive pain. But our description of the business man lacks perfection until we see him in his home. See him there and you have the secret of his success. For it is there he receives encouragement and inspiration from that fount of American helpfulness—the American woman. To speak, further of the business man in his relation to the home is needless for an American reader. You may think my eulogy overdone, for I am painting the business man at his best in the home and in the industries. But even this superb creature has defects, the greatest of which it the utilization of ever moment of time for family and self at the expense of the State. For our business men too often neglect to give even a moment to the nation—to the State—to the city. They are pigmies in politics and state-craft and invite upon themselves the opprobium of the more patriotic citizens. Under these conditions of indifference the unscrupulous poli-tician springs up even as the mushroom in the night, but alas! his tenacity for life is a thousand times that of the tender and THE MERCURY. 19 short-lived mushroom. dies and never resigns. "The unscrupulous politician seldom This was the truism expressed by Jef-ferson and this fact makes it a double task to root out the American grafter, once he has attained his power. But let us thank Providence, the seat of the grafter is not al-ways unshaken. There are always some honest business men aware of the public dishonesties; always somebody ready to lead the people in their crusades against public evils; always some men ready with public confidence behind them to clean the legis-lative halls of their reeking political filth. Such men as Berry of Pennsylvania, Folk of Missouri, and Heney of California, are simply repaid for their herculean tasks by the public confidence—a thing not measured in dollars and cents. Yes, we want our business men to be honest and our honest business men to be politicians. Not until our business men be-come politicians and place politics on the high plane where it deserves to be, can we hope for continued good government. If our public officials are not honest and our business men not politicians enough to understand the public questions of the day, we tremble for the perpetuity of our country. But there is a better spirit abroad in the land. Politics is being cleansed and officials are learning the lesson that public office is a public trust. Slowly but surely we are evolving the American business man who finds time for his community and his country. This busi-ness man then, supreme in the commercial world; loving in the-home; and watchful in the State will be the hope of the future. Trusting in him in the days to come, we expect our offices to be filled with men of unimpeached integrity and the destiny of our country to be made secure. 20 THE SIEECURY. NEITHER PESSIMISM NOR OPTIMISM. FLORENCE G. HEATHCOTE '10. |MOJS"G the philosophers who have flourished during past ages the most varied theories of the universe have pre-vailed. Some have radically propounded the theory of optimism while others advocated that of pessimism. Schopenhauer's is a philosophy of despair. His belief was that the world, in which we live, with its social conditions, is the worst that ever could exist. Thus unhappiness was the inevi-table and moral rule of the human life. Leibniz's idea of this life was diametrically opposed to that of Schopenhauer's; for him happiness greatly overbalanced the pain of this world and the present world-order is the best possible. But these same two ideas exist among every class of men. The Europeans, as a whole, are rather pessimistic. This is probably on account of their less progressive condition. The Americans, on the other hand, are considered to be very optimistic on ac-count of being in a condition of prosperity. Yet America has to-day many "Schopenhauer's" as well as "Leibnizs" and their theories are just as radical as those of either of these philoso-phers. For the truly pessimistic man of to-day unhappiness is the prime element of life and the quicker death comes, the better for him. His religious, social, and business activities appear to him as only things of misery and torture. It is very evident that there is very little progress in anything a man undertakes when he upholds such a theory. "Despair is death," is a true saying. The pessimist can do very little, if anything, for the uplift of the human race, and especially for the progress of his country, with such a sombre view of life. His gloomy theory paralyzes effort. His theory, however, is only a misrepresentation, which is due to the magnifying of the various misfortunes and sorrows of this life which he has experienced. He sees no honor or justice in anything and thus he deliberately rales God out of his thoughts entirely. In such a state of mind no one is able to appreciate nature or to help others to see the right. On the other hand a radical optimist is just as far from real- THE MEitcuny. 21 izing what this life really is as the pessimist with his dark view of the universe. The optimist has, indeed, heen one of the main factors in the steady development of our land, but he, too often, forgets what true happiness really means. Everything is life and sunshine to him; misfortunes are immediately overlooked without affecting his character in the least, and thus he is car-ried on by the whirl of success, forgetting all and only looking for his own selfish joy and pleasure. Yet he is helping to pro-mote a rapid growth, perhaps, in the industrial world, but with no other thought in view except his own selfish end. Thus he has no sympathy for those who are his inferiors financially or socially and in the end he must discover that his is not the truly great happiness after all. "A man's lot is not really happy when all his desires are always and fully realized, but when he obtains a proper share of joy and sorrow, success and failure, plenty and want, straggle and peace, work and rest, and obtains it at the right time." But the truth is that there must be a blending of the opti-mistic and the pessimistic ideas, if life would appear to us reah There should be sufficient recognition of evil, so as not to ignore its presence, and a due appreciation of the good, to serve as an inspiration to high endeavor. "Life is hope" and what benefit can there be derived if one is continually in despair. The dangers and misunderstandings are well balanced by the numer-ous gifts in nature and the joy of good health. Our nation can advance only if its citizens have a "common-sense" view of life. It is by pain and persecution that their characters can be strengthened to fight the battles of life. Some great scholar has said, "This earth is dear to mortal men, not merely in spite of its tears and crosses, but also on account of them." It has been just through those men, who have held the "com-mon- sense" view that our nation is what it is to-day. Their foremost thought has been that the first thing to be done is to care for one's fellow-men. Through this noble thought there have been innumerable improvements along all lines. To make life pleasant and enjoyable for man, the construction of rail-roads, telephone, and telegraph lines have been accomplished. Useful arts and sciences have been inculcated; free schools and 22 I'll E .MI'.IICIJIIY. colleges have been opened; public libraries and churches have been erected all over the country. Even criminals of to-day are put into healthy and clean prisons where they are compelled :to do some work or to learn a trade. One of the great fruits of man's helping his fellow-men is very evident in the provision of free sanitoriums for curing various diseases and the preven-tion of epidemics. In a land where there is so much liberty offered to all and whose laws are so just, every citizen should endeavor to do his best for its welfare and advancement. To sit idly by and look at its darkest side or its brightest side will never be fruitful of any good, but let us be encouraged by the good and do our best in abolishing evil so that "this government of the people, for the people, and by the people may never perish from the earth." DOES SMOKING AND DRINKING INTERFERE WITH IN-TELLECTUAL PROGRESS. II. F. BAUGIIMAN, '10. NE of the most familiar terms used in athletic circles is the term "training." By it is expressed careful selec-tion of diet, early bed hours, clean morals and above all a strict abstinence from alcoholic beverages and to-bacco. The trainers and players all recognize the evil effects of these dissipations upon the physical system, so when football and track seasons at college come around, the candidates for these teams sign a pledge to "keep training." Perhaps after these di-versions have passed out of season, the same men who have trained faithfully for weeks may "break training" and drink and carouse as though attempting to make up for time lost. At least most men at college indulge in the use of tobacco, and a few in the use of intoxicants. 3Tow it is suggested that if such indulgences are not good for the physical system, are they not also detrimental to intellectual progress? From the statements given above it wovild appear that the majority of students think they are not, but we must remember that men do not always do THE MEBCUEY. 23 what is of the most advantage to them. We will consider the effects of each separately upon the mind, taking smoking first as it is most prevalent. Medical science shows us that smoking, especially cigarette smoking, is most injurious to the brain tissues. The smoker in-hales the poisonous nicotine and it is taken to the lungs where the blood is carried for purification, instead of receiving cleans-ing, it is acted upon by this freighted with poisonous matter. This blood is carried to the brain, there to feed the tissues with poison. Of course not all the poison is carried by the blood, be-cause the blood corpuscles and other scavengers act upon it to purify it, but they are taxed excessively by this extra task and sooner or later these organs lose part of their power and permit more poison to be carried to the brain to build up unhealthy tis-sues, which of course cannot perform their functions to any great degree, thus hindering intellectual progress. Men of experience have recognized the injurious effects of the poison, and legislators in many States are working for legisla-tion which will keep this cause of mental and physical degenera-tion from the boys in school; they recognize the fact that sound, healthy minds cannot develop in bodies that are poisoned by the same substance which must be carried also to the brain. Ke-cently in the "Philadelphia Press" there was an account of the case of a school boy whose excessive practice of the cigarette habit cost him his liberty. The account states that his mind was dulled and the boy was becoming incorrigible. This shows the effect of smoking upon one child, and its effects must be simi-lar, though not always to so great a degree, upon every smoker. Certainly the habit hinders greatly intellectual progress. Drinking is much more injurious and its effects are more plainly seen than the effects of smoking. Alcohol has a deaden-ing effect upon a man's mental powers which is well manifested while he is under the influence of liquor. He regains his pow-ers to a certain degree soon after the stimulant loses its power, hut he cannot forever do this. Gradually the brain must weaken, because a man cannot abuse any organ repeatedly without its having an evil effect upon that organ. I have seen performed an experiment with alcohol on the brain of a pigeon. When the alcohol came in contact with the tissues 24 THE MEIiCtfUY. the whole mass stiffened and congealed and remained so for quite a while. This is what happens to a less degree in a man's brain when he becomes subject to drink. The blood always carries the poison to the brain and there is does its harmful work. The ha-bitual drinker so impairs his mental powers that at last he loses 1hem entirely and becomes insane; there are perhaps more cases of insanity due to drink than to all other caiises combined. Now the liquor must have the same effect on every brain in propor-tion to the amount used and the strength of that organ for re-sisting, so no one can indulge in alcoholic beverages without im-paring his mind, and he must of necessity hinder his own men-tal progress. Smoking and drinking interfere most effectively with intel-lectual progress, and the man who wishes to always have a clear brain and do rational thinking to a point of supermacy must ab-stain from these indulgences. SPAIN'S CRIME. EARL S. RUDISILIi, '12. IING ALFONSO of Spain, in ten minutes rendered fruitless his country's ten-year diplomatic struggle for a place among the world powers when he permitted the execution of Professor Francisco Ferrer. Investiga-tions have shown that Ferrer was entirely innocent of the charge laid at his door and even if this had not been proven, the con-demnation of such a scholar against the will of all Europe, could not but reflect on the intelligence of the Spanish Government and impair its influence with the other powers. Professor Ferrer was a man of courage and great principles, a firm believer in democracy and the founder of the "Modern Schools" in Spain. It was his manly courage that spoke forth when he uttered his last words, "Aim straight; long live the Modern Schools." His democratic spirit was the indirect cause of his execution, for it was on account of this spirit that he was suspected of partaking in the outbreaks in Cataloma and Barce- THE MERCURY. lona. As the founder of schools, lie rendered the same service to Spain which our Thaddeus Stevens rendered to Pennsylva-nia and in both instances was it done in spite of strong opposi-tion. During the last decade Spain has been regaining much of the importance and influence which she seemed to have lost. Since she has been without colonial possessions she has been conserv-ing her resources for domestic improvements and great things have been accomplished. Railroads have been built, agriculture has become more important, commerce has increased and Span-ish influence at court has been doubled. Her relations with ■neighboring nations have become closer. The marriage of the king to the English Victoria has drawn England and Spain closer than ever while France also has become more closely con-nected with her. All this has taken place since the war with the United States and that conflict was largely responsible for it. Even Alfonso himself, has declared that the war was a blessing in disguise. ISTow in the midst of prosperity and improvement Spain has blighted her progress by a self-inflicted wound, and greatly im-paired her increasing prestige among the powers. Instead of friendly greetings she has received from all the world condemna-tion, and King Alfonso, who signed the death Avarrant, by shift-ing the blame on to his prime minister, caused the resignation of the entire cabinet. The government was demoralized. However, the king has appointed a new cabinet with Senor Moret at its head and it will act with a conciliatory policy but it cannot bring back to life the martyr.ed Ferrer, nor can it re-store the moral order of things so soon as it was broken. It will be an uphill struggle and one not soon over, for such a gross de-fiance of moral law will not soon be forgotten. May the future of Spain profit by the past. 26 THE MERCURY. THE POSSIBILITIES FOR IMPROVEMENTS IN GETTYSBURG. HARVEY S. HOSHOUR, "10. E it located where it may, there is no town in America which has been so honored and so revered, as Gettys-burg. This little village among the hills is known the world over. To the foreigner it is the scene of one of the world's most decisive battles; to the American it marks the turning point of the struggle which meant national life to our country; to the Gettysburg man it means all this and more. Four years' sojourn at Gettysburg cannot but add with a peculiar emphasis to our appreciation of the last full measure of devo-tion of those who fought here. But for us there is more than even this. Surrounded by the battlefield at the outskirts of town there is a little college which to every Gettysburg student is one of the dearest places on earth. This is our Alma Mater. It is a small college but there are those who love it. There is a certain atmosphere pervading the place, which seems to have taken the best from the ordinary college town life and happily blended it with the historical halo which surrounds all fields of battle. So far as the town is concerned there seem to be but few chances for improvements. It is not that the place is perfect, but it seems to me that development has already been made along the proper lines and that any departure from them in prin-ciple, would be detrimental. For example, the plan has been to make Gettysburg a residential place and not an industrial com-munity. Development along these lines is the thing needed, not any change in them. It may seem old-fashioned to argue in this strain and the objection would be justified in many places, but for Gettysburg there is a difference. Gettysburg may live behind the times of the modern factory community, but we live, not merely subsist, as is done in many such localities. To me it seems that residential growth is to be encouraged, the old tradi-tions preserved, and factory development discouraged, if Get-tysburg is to be really improved as a town. THE JIEKCUKY. 27 As a college the conditions are somewhat different. There are many radical improvements needed which do not seem to me to be a detriment to the spirit in which the institution has been fostered. The new science hall, the Y. M. C. A. building, the new gymnasium, and the newly arranged curriculum are all needed improvements. A better arrangement of the dormitory life should be attempted. The experience of other colleges seem to justify the efficacy of allowing the various fraternities to pro-vide their own sleeping departments. If this is not done, a new dormitory should be erected in the near future. While improvements in the college curriculum are strongly urged, a departure from the old classical standards is far from being desired. Gettysburg is first of all a school of classical traditions, which are too dear to every alumnus and undergradu-ate, to be discarded. We urge the addition of new courses, but not the abandonment of the old ones. This may seem to be an argument in favor of the life which lives behind the times and to a certain extent it is. Our traditions are dear to us and they last with a tenacity which only such a place as Gettysburg could develop. Every college man lores his Alma Mater, if he is worthy of her name, but the Gettysburg man has something more than this. With four years of such life as we live here, one forms a fabric-work of dreams so to speak, which, if it break or be shattered, was only an influence for good, and which if it lasts through one's lifetime is bound to be an acting force in every man's life. T^ ERCURV Entered fit the I'ostoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1909 No. 7 Editor in-Chief SAMUEL FAUSOLD, 'IO. Exchange Editor G. E. BOWERSOX, 'io Business Manager PAUL S. MILLER, 'IO Ass't Bus. Managers C. M. ALLABACH, 'II S. T. BAKER, 'II Assistant Editor RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'IO Associate Editors E. J. BOWMAN, 'II C. M. DAVIS, 'II Advisory Board PROF. G. F. SANDERS, A. M. PROF. P. M. BIKXE, FH. D. PROF. C. J. GRIMM, Pit. D. Published each month, from October to June-inclusive, by the joint literary Societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be ac-companied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. OF tilings worth while, we often consider whether it is worth the time and money for women to re-ceive a college education. When we glance at the Greeks, we find it was the disgrace and finally the ruin of their civilization that their wives were uneducated. There vir-tue and ignorance, vice and culture were hand in hand, but America has always been distinguished for judgment and justice accorded THE MERCURY. 29 to the gentler sex. Although there is great antagonism as to the co-ed idea, yet we, being thrust into the environment of them and seeing their scholarship and influence, are convinced of their ability to successfully compete with their brothers in every field of study and research. The alumni of our colleges are seeing to it that their hoys are being educated and are urging them to work for greater college facilities. It is such spirit that has created such female institutions as Barnard, Wellesley, Smith and Vassar. Glancingatthe co-ed educational training at Cornell as to their effect on young men, we find that they have cultivated the best traits and most chivalric characteristics of manhood. Their am-bition and success have stimulated every department of college and university to a more earnest effort and higher ideal. Ignorance is no longer an excuse for keeping others ignorant, and to-day college education fits the female for the field which needs her labor, and the world is made richer for her skill and fidelity and better, too, for the independence, that we can do nothing better but quote the words of Pope: "Tis education forms the common mind, Just as the twig is bent, the tree inclined." THE TRUE To-day we hear much concerning the meeaninar PERSPEC- ° TIVE. of that modest word, "success." What constitutes success? It all depends upon the viewpoint, upon the perspec-tive. Hence at one glance, we obtain a realizing sense of the im-portance of perspective. No two persons have the same perspec-tive. The educational and hereditary traits are different for each of us. Hence our perspectives are affected differently. We all see tilings through glasses more or less colored by prejudice and bias. Although our perspectives are very different, they are not necessarily wrong. The farmer boy from Illinois will have an entirely different perspective from the son of a New York millionaire, and yet the two perspectives may be legitimate in every sense. But, that these young men should have the true perspectives of life, they must have a true sense of values. 30 THE MERCURY. It is the same with us all. We must spend a great part of out-lives in attaining the right perspective. The success of one's college career depends largely upon his sense of values. Shall the college student bend his energies in one direction or shall he aim at becoming the "all around man?" Shall he be a recluse, neglecting the social life entirely? Shall he be a social butter-fly, without intellectual ambitions? Shall he strike a happy medium between these extremes? The college student who thinks of nothing but football is a pitiable spectacle. That student is narrow—narrow in every sense, and yet the student who cannot enjoy a lively energetic football game is also to be pitied. The true perspective of life as the world sees it is to work hard, play hard, and at the same time to practice the simple life. This is the aim of the small college—to give one the right per-spective ; to give him lofty ideals, and to place in his hands the means of attaining them. Let us, therefore, second the college in her efforts: let us learn what is worth while and then go after it. GOOD The contention as to what constitutes good reading READING, is an old one. The idea that "No book is so bad but that there is some good in it," has few ardent supporters to-day. There may be something of value in every book but too often that thing of value is neutralized by the baneful. Tell me, good reader, how much of good there is in a novel such as that one en-titled, "A Woman's Temptation," by Bertha Clay. To see a col-lege man read such a book would be ludicrous, were it not that the waste of profitable time has a serious side to it. We admit that the so-called light reading may sometimes be justifiable as a temporary diversion, but let that light reading be from the more admirable writers. Why not read something from Washington Irving, Dickens, or even Jules Vernes in pref-erence to the silly, contemptible, sensational novels which flood our country. To possess a taste for really good literature is a mark of cul-ture, and true appreciation of the masters of our language is not ___^^__ THE MERCURY. 31 attained by the perusal of second-rate productions. No college man can afford to be lacking in intimacy with such men as Mil-ton, Shakespeare, Burns, Emerson and all the others who form that brilliant galaxy of pensmen that has given imperishable fame to the English language. j* EXCHANGES. IHE November exchanges are especially attractive, many being special Thanksgiving numbers, and containing essays and poems suitable to the great national holiday. We notice in reading the various papers that much of the material is contributed by alumni of the various schools. In some instances the entire literary section of the papers are given to alumni productions. What does this indicate ? In one respect it shows a healthy alumni spirit which is indeed com-mendable and in many respects desired. But on the other hand it displays a lack of literary interest on the part of the present generation of students or a disposition on the part of some edi-tors to sacrifice the best interests of their fellow-students in order to fill the magazine with articles having a higher degree of polish. After all the college paper is primarily the students' pa-per, and when it once loses the interest caused by the personal touch given by student articles, its time of service to the college community is ended. We must therefore conclude that when-ever possible literary departments should be filled with good, live articles by those in direct touch with the college life. The literary department of "The Western Maryland College Monthly" is again well filled with interesting articles, the ora-tion, "The Submerged Truth," deals in a broad and clear man-ner with the great problem of the poor in our industrial divi-sions. "The American Home" pictures in a pleasing style, and with patriotic light this greatest of American institutions. "How They Changed Their minds," and "The Eeturn of the Wan-derer" are hardly equal to the usual standard of short stories found in your magazine. We consider "The Haverfordian" as among the best exchanges we receive. Its literary tone and pleasing style are necessary 32 THE MERCURY. characteristics of a good college paper. The numerous short poems always found in its pages, shows that the love and appre-ciation of poetry still exists at Haverford. "The Albright Bulletin" contains some literary productions of high order. Its leading article, "Beacon Lights of American Poetry," is of high merit. Its author pays a glowing tribute to the world-honored Bryant. Yet we believe too much praise can-not be given a poet, who has painted pictures such as has Bryant, or who has moralized as he has in his immortal "Thanatopsis." The mild and gentle Longfellow is fairly dealt with. Oft times we are inclined to think slightingly of Longfellow because he lacks that profundity of thought found in Bryant, Lowell, and Emerson, but we must never forget that "his life and work stand as a true poem." In the article, "A Crisis in Great Britain," a powerful argument in favor of our protective system is pre-sented. A GLIMPSE OF MOONLIGHT. The moon comes up with sudden light, And each star fades to a distant spark, And from the valleys, the gloom of night, And from the hills the dark. The mountains slumber against the skies, And fade in the distance far away- Arid the wind weaves beaiitiful mysteries On the mist where the moonbeams play. And far away, in the moonlight fair, Runs the thread of a silver stream; And (lie white mists float on the soft night air, As tin angel floats through dream. —From the •'•'Southern Collegian." PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. I"N this Drama of Four Year's Course, Play your part without dad's horse ; This to do is up to you With just a little tact between each yearly act, In some domain take a stroll And sell ALUMINUM for next year's Me (roll). Every summer Uuudreds of students make BIG MONEY selliug Aluminum Cooking Uteusils. For particulars address LOUIS HETZEL, Gettysburg College, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE STEWART & STEEN CO., COLLEGE ENGRAVERS, 1024 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA. MAKERS OF INVITATIONS, PROGBAMS, MENUS, VISITING CARDS, DANCE CARDS, MONOGRAMS, CLASS AND FRATERNITY STATIONERY. P. S. MILLER, 'to, Representative, Who has a full line of samples. (%;< 1 HI The times an ! the Schools demand that the best things shall be done and in the best manner. gai ±l\ accomplishes everything- that can be required of a good writing- in-strument. Made to last for years oJ service and give its owner the satisfaction which comes with owning "the best." From a31 dealers. TSie Globe trademark is our guarantee citco. 1.76 St. J«i 1 St., Monlrenl 12 I . I.0.I.1.' CRU- da Hi PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FU^NTTl/fp Mattresses, Sed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. H. B. BENDER. 37 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. L, WEIGAND, DEALER IN FRESH AND CURED MEATS OF ALL KINDS-Boarding Clubs a Specialty. Soul's f^estaupcmt, Ice (sPeaEQ. aiyiC (^uicl^ ISIAI^CII, No. 7 Chambersburg Street. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE, College Emblems, Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 722 Chestnut St., Phildelphia. Specialti es: Masonic Marks, Society Badgs, College Buttons, Pi ns, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Atletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through E. J. Bowman. Charles S. Mumper, DEALS FURNITURE, DEALER IN PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS REPAIR WORK DONE PROMPTLY I will also BUY or EXCHANGE any SECOND-HAND FURNITURE No. 4 Charnbersburg street, Gettysburg, Pa. CULP'S RESTAURANT, First National Bank Bld'g. The place to eat the best Ice Cream. QUICK LUNCH and Oysters in season. D. J. Swartz, DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. —IS— J. I MUMPER Your Photographer, If not, why not? 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg. FLEMMING X BAIR'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrange-ments by telegram or letter. Lock Bock 257. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. WINDSOR HOTEL, Midway between Broad St. Station and Reading Terminal on Filbert St. American Plan $2.50 per day- European Plan $1.00 per day The only moderate prieed hotel of reputation and consequence in PHILADELPHIA. The Modern Steam Laundry . . OF YORK . . Offers the COLLEGE STUDENTS first-class work at Special L,ow Prices. E. C. STOUFPER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. The Baltimore Medical College Preliminary Fall Course begins September ist. Regular Winter Course begins September 20th. Liberal teaching facilities ; Modern college buildings ; Comfortable lecture hall and amphitheatres ; Large and complete equipped laboratories; Capacious hospital and dispensary; Lying-in department for teaching clinical obstetrics ; Large clinics. Send for catalogue. Address DAVID STREETT, M. D., Dean, N. E. Cor. Madison St., and Linden Ave., Baltimore, Md. COMPILER IMPRINT ON JOB WORI MEANS TASTY WORK CAREFULLY LONE. MENU CARDS WINDOW POSTERS LETTER HEADS ENVELOPES DANCE CARDS TICKETS Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in lJaper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper done in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Cettysbuig Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life.

Issue 47.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1988. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVtEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors May/June 1988 Volume 47 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Effective, Nondefensive Communication Between Clergy and Religious Women Robert J. Wicks, Psy.D. This article is adapted from an invited address presented at the 1986 Annual Vicars for Religious Eastern Regional Conference on November 7, 1986, at the St. Raphaela Retreat House, Haverford, Pennsylvania. Dr. Wicks, author of Availability. the Problem and the Gift, is Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Director of Program Development in the Loyola College Pastoral Counseling Department; 7135 Minstrel Way, Suite 101; Columbia, Maryland 21045. Good communication cannot solve every problem; to think so is naive. However, good communication can set the stage for metanoia (conver-sion). Therefore, in light of this all must be done to take advantage of the opportunity it offers-~even though, as one might expect, the cost of this conversion (in terms of openness, patience, and persistent assertive-ness) may be quite substantial. Considering this cost, from a psychological point of view there must be a real effort taken to remove all of the unnecessary interpersonal stress involved through the employment of good communication techniques; whereas, from a spiritual vantage point we must see the goal of effec-tive communication and relationship formation between male and female leaders of the Church as a positive challenge which inspires further steps toward openness rather than one that is threatening and discouraging, caus-ing avoidable anxiety. The movement toward Christian intimacy and interdependence must then be based on a hope that is very much tied to our faith; for with a strong faith--even when we are in the midst of an interaction that seems 321 399 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 to be pulling us apart or are in an apparently complete impasse--we will never lose sight of the key biblical injunction "Be not afraid." In the simple words of Paul to the Philippians: In the name of the encouragement you owe me in Christ, in the name of solace that love can give, of fellowship in spirit, compassion and pity, I beg you: make my joy complete by your unanimity, possessing the one love, united in spirit and ideals. Never act out of rivalry or conceit; rather, let all parties think humbly of others as superior to themselves, each of you looking to others' interests rather than his [her] own (Ph 2:1- 4). His call must be one that all men and women in Christ must heed. And clergy and religious women (the term "religious women" is used instead of "women religious" because it is more inclusive) need to lead the way in continuing to model this struggle for partnership in ministry. One of the realities that I believe many of us do not realize about com-munication between clergy and religious women in this age of occasional ministerial conflict between women and men is that communication is better now between these two groups than ever before in the modern Church. In the past the dissemination of information may have been easier and the discussions more comfortable, but if we are to look at commu-nication as a two-way communication where self-disclosure and the un-covering of agendas are involved, communication between clergy and re-ligious women is, in a real sense, a recent post-Vatican II phenomenon. Prior to this, in many instances because of structures and roles, the in-formation flowed primarily in one direction; this was not only unfair to all concerned but it also held back the Christian community because com-munication is a mainstay of interpersonal vitality. With these points as a backdrop then, we must enter into the topic of effective, nondefensive communication between clergy and religious women with a sense of reality and a deep attitude of hope. If we want, psychology can provide practical information to help, but we must also recognize that this is a spiritual movement; tht~s, in this light we have a responsibility to guide it but an equal mandate not to try to control it. To do so would only prove both frustrating and disastrous. In an effort to place sound psychology at the service of this move-ment, three questions will be addressed: I. How do people respond to communication?This question is im-portant because we often have the assumption that communication is nor- Effective, Nondefensive Communication / 323 mally received with welcome arms and are surprised when this does not happen. II. Who is receiving the message? This question is helpful to address because of the dramatic way a message can be affected, accepted, or re-jected when there is little reflection on whom we are addressing in terms of a number of variables. III. How is effective communication an element in an overall trans-formation of one's attitude and response to God? Good communication is only important if it serves to build up the Kingdom--the Kingdom within ourselves and the Kingdom among ourselves, that "Sacred Space" within which we make the spiritual journey. I. What Are Some of the Ways People May Respond to Communica-tion? Communication can be greeted in a number of ways including: with suspicion or paranoia, with unrealistic expectations, or with hope and chal-lenge. Understanding a bit about each of these types of responses is help-ful when preparing for or involved in communicating with others. Suspicion or Paranoia: Alan Paton once said that some persons "fear social change more than they fear God." Communication often leads to change, and in the institutional Church there sometimes is a sense of suspicion or even paranoia about where the current movements will lead. Nowhere is this more evident than with respect to the move-ment toward full partnership on the part of women. Quite honestly, al-though the suspicion and paranoia are not warranted if we have real trust in the Lord and are healthy psychologically, there is still a reality aspect to the whole issue which is senseless to bury or deny. Communication, real communication--which has at its heart the burning desire for inclu-siveness- is a Trojan horse in the institutional Church today. Inside the horse is true Christian equality--something that will, as it develops and grows, bring with it confusion and concern, just as Christ did in his times to his religious structure. So, although we really must not turn back and hide ourselves behind former types of organizational breakdowns (to do so, I think, would be a futile and sinful exercise in misplaced nostalgia for past structures), th.e question we must not hide through Christian de-nial or behind "chronic niceness" is whether, in envisioning unity, we are also prepared to face many systemic questions which may shake us as a body to the core? Unrealistic Expectations: Among the unrealistic expectations of com-munications we sometime~ hold on to are that good communications will almost always produce comfortable agreement, or somehow if it is done 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 correctly will always be pleasant. Agreement does not occur all of the time; this is natural. However, some people erroneously believe that if there is not agreement, it means the communications involved are not good. This is false because there could be a meeting of the minds but the minds may not agree. This is an important point to realize in the Church today. The Church takes time to change; those who have had time to see the institutional manifestations of the Church around the world and have reviewed Church history know that the structures often take time to catch up to the reality of the movement of the Spirit in the People of God. So, while communications and respect between clergy and religious women must be at the top of our agenda, to expect that this will lead to immediate change of certain laws, traditions, and systems is to court unnecessary frustration. Another unrealistic expectation is to expect that if communications are good the results will be pleasant. This is obviously also not true. To see injustice-~either in our own behavior or others--is certainly not a joy. As a matter of fact, good communication may bring us closer-- truth has a special power to do this--but we may not feel it because the issues that divide us may become clearer and we may feel more alien-ated because we are starting to honestly confront them. Using the terminology of Merton, in communications our "true selves" may well see each other and be attracted but at the same time our "false selves" will probably turn and run for their lives! For in-stance, let us take the case of a clergyman who is a firstborn male with an eastern European background. For him to have to face as a result of communication the possibility that he has been acculturated to see him-self as the "worthy one," someone to be waited on hand-and-foot, and that he must somehow in the Spirit of the servant Jesus move away from this learned style is not going to be easy. Likewise, for a religious woman to own the fact that she has been displacing some anger she rightly feels about injustice in the Church onto a particular priest who has not shown any evidence of sexism but has happened to be nearby when she was feeling her justified frustration is also not pleasant. Hope and Challenge: However, thankfully, communication can also be greeted in a positive way. It can be greeted with a sense of hope and challenge; and that is the attitude we must all seek to "put on" as we would seek to put on Christ. Yet this positive Christlike attitude does not deny that communication takes effort, is easily affected, and often gets distorted because of past experiences. Effective, Nondefensive Communication / 325 Gestures never substitute for actions; this all of us probably would admit to knowing. Yet one of the burdens of the human condition is that we often make a gesture when we think we are taking an action. This is especially so in communication. Real communication requires that agen-das be cleared. We must risk speaking our minds and our hearts, but often we shy away from this because we can lose face, uncover unpleas-ant anxieties, or lose our position in the relationship (even though this position is a matter of self-protection rather than of Christian friendship). The "bottom line" then is that, even with a sense of hope and challenge, good communication takes real effort. II. Who Is Receiving the Message? Age, socio-economic background, race/ethnic origin, intelligence, and any number of other determinants will affect how our message is re-ceived. This is especially important in terms of personality and sociali-zation as a result of gender. With respect to personality and communication, given the focus of this paper, the specific factors which we will treat here are domination and avoidance. Domination: Some people have a great fear of being dominated or influenced while others are themselves dominators. In both cases, the per-son will receive communications in line with these personality determi-nants. Sometimes very bad past ministerial experiences will cause this kind of issue to be at the forefront. An example of this is the person in ministry who has been--in the name of "Christian service"--pulled into doing all kinds of work and has filled all kinds of inappropriate roles. He or she may then respond to communication in what I call a "pseudojustice" mode. Trying to communicate with such persons about involvement can be like pulling teeth because of their fear that their own space will be intruded upon as it has been in the past. With them you may feel exasperated and feel like yelling: "I'm not trying to control you. All I'm trying to do is to find out how you would like to serve as part of the team." The hidden agenda such people have and their past feeling of being dominated and forced into too many unwanted, possi-bly unsuitable roles need to surface and be dealt with so communication and involvement can proceed. On the other hand, for persons receiving the message who are them-selves dominators, the problem will be somewhat different. In this case they show constant concern that if they agree or open up they might lose necessary control of the situation. In communicating with them, the situ-ation is also frustrating because if you are not careful you may begin to 326/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 feel that you are in fact gUilty of trying to wrestle control or get away with something. To such persons, nevertheless, you must express the idea clearly and question their hesitation so that they can get in touch with the domination problem they are experiencing. (Th.e more uncon-scious the problem is, howex;er, the more defensive the person will be because of a lack of awareness about it and a resistance to looking at it on his or her part.) Avoidance: Avoidance of involvement with another person may be due to a number of reasons. When we are speaking about communica-tions between clergy and religious women, though, one of the primary concerns could be the fear of heterosexual intimacy. As we learn from the psychological literature (for example, Daniel Levinson: The Seasons of a Man's Life), this may especially be a problem with males because of a confusion between genital relationships and nongenital heterosexual relationships. In Levinson's words: A man may have a wide social network in which he has amicable, "friendly" relationships with many men and perhaps a few women. In general, however, most men do not have an intimate male friend of the kind that they recall fondly from boyhood or y.outh. Many men have had casual dating relationships with women, and perhaps a few complex love-sex relationships, but most men have not had an intimate nonsexual friendship with a woman. We need to understand why friendship is so rare, and what consequences this deprivation has for adult life (p. 335). For the religious woman, the case may be a failure to have had enough heterosexual opportunities herself to feel at ease in the situation; another reason could be a negative history early in life or in ministry (for example, steps at healthy intimacy either rebuffed or responded to in a genital way thus producing confusion, anger, or possibly unwarranted guilt). Now that we have looked at the above two elements in understand-ing whom we are communicating with--since the "who" very much de-termines how a message will be received, let us briefly look at the dif-ferences communication takes on from the socialization a person receives because of gender. Gender, along with the socialization and human development that oc-cur in line with it, is a very crucial variable in how someone receives communication. Carol Gilligan (In A Different Voice: Visions in Matur-ity, Harvard University Press, 1982), Robert Kegan (The Evolving Self, Harvard University Press, 1982), and Jean Miller (Toward a New Psy-chology of Women, Beacon, 1976) b.ave shown that recent studies on Effective, Nondefensive Communication women's psychological development characterize them as more open to, and interested in, affiliation than men. However, of more import is that these findings, rather than being evidence of regressive dependence, are reflective of a high level of development that should be integrated with (male-oriented) differentiation at each level of maturity. Joann Wolski Conn, in her work Women's Spirituality (Paulist, 1986), points to this: ¯ . . o.ne should notice the similarities between the Christian goal of un-ion with God demonstrated by loving care for all persons, and the ideal of human maturity promoted in essays by Miller, Gilligan, and Kegan. Gilligan rejects autonomy as the only appropriate goal for human ma-turity in moral decisions and presents instead a goal which equally val-ues relationships . [Kegan] explicitly intends to present a model which listens as carefully to women's experience as it does to men's. As a result, his model demonstrates how the qualities which have come to characterize men and women stereotypically--autonomy and relation-ship-- are the focus of life span tasks at every stage of everyone's de-velopment . Miller explains that autonomy as the goal of maturity is a carry-over from men's experience and implies that one should be able to give up affiliations in order to become separate and self-directed. Women seek more than autonomy as was defined for men; in-deed, they seek a fuller ability to encompass relationships simultane-ously with the fullest development of themselves. Too often women are misinterpreted or penalized for affirming to men a basic truth: every-one's individual development proceeds through affiliation as well as dif-ferentiation. And this development involves conflict which is an inevi-table fact of life and is not necessarily harmful (60, 61). The above is particularly relevant for us here because it is the devel-opment of the female "gender" (as opposed to biological sex), with its emphasis on affiliation,versus the male "gender," which focuses on sepa-ration, that determines whether communication will be sought to build up the Kingdom via an emphasis on relationships or via an attempt to foster "God's will" by furthering a truth or cause at the possible ex-pense of excluding intimacy in the process. ¯ This is not said to disparage men. Jesus in his communication mod-eled both the male and the female gender (that is, he stood for the truth but saw charity and relationship as the greatest law). On the other hand, in an effort to attain equality, it is equally possible for some women to mistake "machismo" for the masculine gender and seek aggressive power in their communication rather than an assertive appropriate de-fense of the truth that will in turn bring us together as brothers and sis- ~i98 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 ters. Consequently, gender is an important issue when reflecting on the person with whom we are trying to communicate. III. Effective Communications as an Element of Overall Transforma-tion Changes in one's attitude and approach to life are areas in which thera-pists have had a long-standing interest. Because of this they are aware of the resistance to change that people have-~even when there is an ex-pressed conscious desire to progress. One way of dealing with such re-sistance, bad habits, or unwanted yet seemingly ingrained negative pat-terns is to address one or all of the following: behavior, cognition, af-fect, and imagery. (I am indebted in this section to my colleague Rich-ard Parsons for his model for therapeutic intervention based on the first three of the factors just listed.) This information is important with respect to what we have already discussed because unless communication is seen as an element of one's overall need to be transformed in approaching God, it will not be suffi-ciently integrated into one's life to have significant impact on one's daily outlook. For instance, when a depressed person comes in for treatment, the problem during the course of therapy can be dealt with in each of the ar-eas listed above; the following is a sample: Behavior: The person is helped to develop a strategy to get out of bed and move about since activity and depression do not coexist well to-gether. Cognition: The person is assisted in recognizing negative thinking, seeing the link between it and depression, and learning how to correct for this thinking as a way of dealing ultimately with a negative belief sys-tem. Affect (emotions): The person is encouraged to express negative emo-tion (anger) so it is not directed against the self in a destructive fashion. Imagery: The person is given exercises in positive imagery as a means of correcting the inordinate negative images that the person fre-quently has and erroneously believes. In this way, the person is able to enter upon a process of self-reeducation, in terms of which, rather than behaving, perceiving, feel-ing, and imaging negatively, he or she realistically and positively takes greater and greater hold. In our openness to grace (using the above model including behav-ior, cognition, affect, and imagery), similar moves must be taken with respect to.ensuring the presence and growth of effective, nondefensive Effective, Nondefensive Communication communication between clergy and religious women. As a way of en-suring this, in each of the four categories, a series of sample questions is offered. They are not so much a comprehensive list as a way of ap-proaching what we have covered in this paper on a broader scale. How they are addressed initially and every day will help determine how the clergy and religious women feel about and act upon their stated desire to open up clear lines of communication between them--regarding, that is, what they do, perceive, affectively experience, and envision. Since emotions are hard to impact directly (except with drug therapy or via ex-ercises in catharsis--that is, ventilating emotions when relating an event to a friend so that the emotions do not come out in an inordinate way in an encounter with someone else), the three we will focus on in terms of a listing of reflective questions are: behavior, cognition, and imagery. (Naturally, there will be some overlap between categories.) Behavior: 1. When someone treats me with disrespect/anger, do I inquire about it or do I withdraw and absorb the negativity or retaliate against the per-son? (Am I able to say: "You seem angry. Is it me that you are angry with or someone/thing else?") 2. Do I time sensitive interactions correctly, or do I bring up things at a time when the person will feel on the spot, rushed, or unable to re-spond? (The "attack-in-the-open" or "hit-on-the-run" techniques.) 3. Do I let other people's behavior (defensive, angry, rigid.) de-termine (excuse) a like negative response on my part? 4. When I have a confrontation, do I employ empathy and respect? 5. Do I group people (sexes, roles . . .) together, or do I take the trouble to appreciate each person individually? 6. Do I treat my partner in ministry like a child or parent or assume one of these roles myself in communication? 7. Do I demand that people agree or have a constantly pleasant de-meanor as a price of interacting with me? 8. When I communicate, am I trying to be myself, or am I trying to project an image so as to keep people controlled, at a distance, or in awe of me? 9. Do I hide behind the rules--be they correct or not--as a way of ending a conversation or cutting off a person's desire to brainstorm or be an adult with me? 10. Do I give in--in the name of "charity"--because I want to be liked? 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 11. Am I difficult to deal with and .overly exacting about a job de-scription- not merely to ensure justice is done, but as displaced revenge for past injustices, hurts, or inordinate demands? In other words, am I willing to be assertive enough to set limits for people when I am being asked to do things I should not do, and, on the other hand, am I gener-ous enough to go the extra mile when it is called for rather than hide be-hind a "union-type" contract which may destroy ministerial morale? (This question is material for an article in itself, given the undeclared psy-chological war that is often taking place between some manipulative, con-trolling, dominant ministers in the Church and the obsessive-compulsive persons who report to them.) 12. Do I use emotional words or parental actions (pedantic tones, sar-o casm . . .) as a way of controlling or attacking other persons? 13. Do I use indirect or passive aggressive/dependent behavior as a way of getting back at someone because I cannot or will not face my own anxiety about being directly assertive? 14. Do I catch myself when I am not taking someone seriously or am making a premature judgment about him or her? 15. Do I tie people up in specifics, rules, or implications rather than allowing them to share their hopes, ideals, and visions with me? 16. Do I look for defensiveness in the other person as a help to moni-tor how I am presenting my view? (Am I using evaluative rather than de-scriptive language, which then sets the other person up to respond nega-tively?) 17. Am I being specific and recent, rather than vague, general, or historical? That is, am I dragging in what I perceive to be the person's whole negative history with me? 18. Am I falling into the trap of employing a communication de-stroyer such as: ordering, directing, commanding, warning, admonish-ing, threatening, exhorting, moralizing, preaching, lecturing, giving so-lutions, .judging, criticizing, blaming, flattering, name-calling, shaming, withdrawing, humoring, or diverting? i9. Am I acting the way I am because of the person's "church cre-dentials" or because of who they are as persons . . . my brothers and sisters in Christ? 20. Am I giving other persons enough distance, or am I moving ahead in the communication and relationship because of my own needs, my own sense of where relationships should be after a given period of time? Effective, Nondefensive Communication 21. Am I able to not "take the whole stage" or "hide behind the curtain" but instead find an appropriate verbal place in the communica-tion? 22. Am I self-disclosing enough without inappropriately or too rap-idly overwhelming the other person with my personal life? 23. Do I use anger, pouting, tears, tantrums, or seduction to get my way? 24. Do I look for the other person's point in communication so it re-ally can become a two-way process of exchanging information? 25. Am I looking for those signs in myself which would help me see when in my interactions and thoughts I may be setting myself up for un-necessary failure? (Do I expect that the reality of the diocese or present partner in ministry will meet my ideals and, when it does not, see it as a total failure?) Cognition: I. Do I try to be as clear as possible in the way I express myself--in other words, do I try to look at all my motivations and agendas? 2. Do I catch myself when I feel either angry, anxious, or guilty so I can try to understand the source of it rather than merely blaming my-self or someone else? 3. Am I sensitive to the times I personalize things? For instance, do I quickly take the blame for some external negative event that I was not primarily responsible for and as a result feel unnecessarily angry/guilty? 4. Do I hold on to the biblical quotation "Be not afraid" at a real belief/trust level to the extent that I can move forward in communica-tion even during those times when I feel pain, rejection, threat, or panic? 5. In my communication of the expectations I have of people, am I presenting them in a way which puts them on the spot, or do I really try to call them to be all they can be without embarrassing them because they are where they are? 6. Do I predict failure or put the other person down in my mind even before the communication has had time to develop? 7. Do I pick up my feelings of annoyance or frustration and catch the underlying thought which is causing it and thus avoid lessening my motivation to continue the communication and work through the prob-lem? 8. Do I fearlessly try to separate my motivations and agendas so I can see what mature/immature elements are involved in my thinking when I prepare for an important discussion, confrontation, or meeting? 332 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 9. When I am at an intimate level with a person, am I checking all the thoughts going through my mind---even the negative or unrealistic ones--as a way of picking up my unfulfilled preconscious desires or needs so they do not interfere with the communication or lead me to act out some immature behavior that would be detrimental to the relation-ship? I0. Am I thinking that, if this person does not like me, it means am not likable in general? Or do I believe that when I am on a ministry team everyone must get along equally well? 1 i. Do I see disagreement as tantamount to disloyalty or start to be-lieve such an attitude if I am given that message by the person with whom I am communicating? 12. Am I willing and able to recall past supportive adult situations I have had with other partners in ministry so I do not generalize when I have a bad experience in the present? Imagery: 1. Am I imaging myself as an assertive sister/brother of Christ, or do I perceive a non-Christlike negative image of myself? 2. Am I truly imaging the opposite sex as being in the image of God? (Am I able to image her/him as being my superior even if I am now her/ his superior in the apostolate?) 3. Do I image myself as loved so I can behave as a healthy person rather than a "good/nice" person who retreats, placates, etc., because of a desperate need for acceptance? 4. Do I try to cut through all of the past culturally determined im-ages I have had of the Lord in order to reenvision the masculinity (as op-posed to the "machismo," power, superiority . . .) of Christ, and am I also able to see Jesus as mother? Or, do I really believe this area is silly and avoid it? 5. Do I take the "Abba" image of God as my guide and meditate on it as an assertive yet tender role model? Or do I still have a "superego-oriented," patriarchal image of God? These are just some of the questions that must be faced with respect to behavior, cognition, and imagery if communication is to change and become effective, if our attitude is to be truly transformed. Epilogue Abraham Heschel once said: [A person's] plight is not due to the fear of nonbeing, to the fear of death, but to the fear of living . The fear of living arises most corn- Effective, Nondefensive Communication monly out of the experiences of failure or insult, or having gone astray or having been rebuffed. It is rooted in the encounter with other human beings, in not knowing how to be with other beings, in the inability or refusal to communicate, but above all in the failure to live in complete involvement with what transcends bur living. I think that, in discussing effective, nondefensive communication be-tween clergy and religious women and in looking at our behavior, cog-nition, and imagery, we are being asked whether we will fear living or whether we will live in complete involvement. We are being asked whether we will follow "Holy Mother the institutional Church" in such a strict way that we are not open to "Holy Mother our God" to the ex-tent that we allow her to carry us where she will. The questions being asked here, then, are not easy ones. Neither are the answers so immediate and accessible. Psychology can help, and we should employ it wherever we can. But, in the last analysis, it is prayer and spirituality that will turn the tide. James Fenhagen said at one point in his book Invitation to Holiness (Harper & Row, 1985, p. 57): "People live cautiously because they pray cautiously." I think this is so, and I think St. Peter felt it when he was confronted at Rome's gate after being asked the question: "Quo vadis?" Accordingly, I wonder, in this whole issue of communications and rela-tionships between clergy and religious women (as might also possibly be the case with respect to the modern movement toward a lay-centered Church), whether it would be too dramatic for us to see that the whole Church is at the gate being questioned again by the Lord as to our cour-age, fortitude, and faith? I wonder. I wonder. Leading People into Prayer Paul Wachdorf Father Wachdorf, a priest of the Archdiocese of Chicago, is an associate dean of for-mation and a spiritual director at Mundelein Seminary. His address is: University of Saint Mary of the Lake; Mundelein, Illinois 60060. For the past six years I have served as a spiritual director for the theologi-ans at Mundelein Seminary, the graduate school of theology of the Arch-diocese of Chicago. An increasing number of our incoming students have never been in a seminary. Frequently their knowledge of the history and teachings of the Church and of the various prayer traditions of the Church is at a very basic level. Some come with no prayer life at all. For others, their experience of prayer is limited to saying prayers, occasionally read-ing from the Bible, or talking to God. One of the challenges I have faced as a director in working with these students is to lead them into a deeper experience of prayer. Out of my experience of the last six years, I would like to share some of the insights and practical wisdom that I have found helpful in work-ing with these students. Although I have worked primarily with semi-nary students, I believe that what I have to say can be helpful to anyone working with beginners in prayer: spiritual directors, RCIA facilitators, pastoral-care ministers, homilists, prayer-group leaders, and many oth-ers. It is very important to be aware of the special issues and concerns that beginners in prayer face as they seek to come before God. The Foundational Conviction The most important insight that I have come to is this: God leads peo-ple into prayer. Through God's own invitations, people come to prayer in their own good time and way. As a director I can invite people to a life of prayer. I can walk with them in their attempts to pray. I can help 334 Leading People into Prayer / 335 to facilitate their movement into prayer. But I cannot make them pray, and I cannot control the movement or the experience of God in their prayer. As a director I have had to face my own impatience and desire to have someone become a person of prayer overnight. I have come to see that there are many starts and stops; but, over time, people are given the gift of prayer. Prayer cannot be forced. It is a conversion experience. When people come to experience firsthand the power of God at work in their lives and prayer, then prayer becomes something that they want to do and not something I expect them to do or something they are obli-gated to do by the Church. Until this happens for them, I try as much as possible to affirm their fledgling efforts to pray and to be understand-ing and accepting of them in their failures, their discouragement, and their resistances as they attempt to pray. Beginning by Doing When I meet.with prospective spiritual directees, I tell them that one expectation I have of them is that they commit themselves to developing a regular prayer life. Furthermore, within the context of spiritual direc-tion, I want them to talk about what happens to them when they do pray. I also tell them that I am not going to dictate to them how, when, or how often they should pray, nor am I going to scold them in their failures or difficulties with prayer. I am not indifferent about their prayer life. Within the framework of God's gift and their freedom, I try to be an accountability factor. What is a value to me, I want to be a value for them. In addition, I tell them that their commitment to prayer insures that what we do within the con-text of spiritual direction becomes more than just guidance and counsel-ing. Some of those I direct have told me that my invitation to prayer has been an important stimulus in their attempts to develop their own prayer life. In Solidarity and With Support At Mundelein Seminary, the full-time members of the formation team commit themselves to an hour of personal prayer every morning in our house chapel. We invite the students to join us in our time of prayer, and many of them do. In this hour of quiet time with God, there is a soli-darity that develops among us. Many of our students have said that this daily commitment of the formation team to prayer has been an impor-tant witness and invitation to them in their own prayer life. 33t5 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Related to this, on occasion I have invited a student I am directing to join me for this time of quiet prayer. We have used a common prayer form or passage from Scripture as the basis of our prayer. Afterwards we spent some time talking about what we experienced in our prayer. Within the context of direction, I try to share on a limited basis, and when-ever I feel it is appropriate, some of the content of my own prayer life and what happens to me when I pray. These two things have helped some of my beginners in prayer to come to an experiential insight into what can happen when they open themselves up to God in prayer and to understand what prayer in gen-eral and what specific prayer forms can be like for them. The Spiritual Dialogue About Prayer When I first meet with new spiritual directees, I ask them to spend some time telling me their life history. Among other things, I ask them to tell me about their prayer life and their experiences and images of God. In particular, I ask them if they have ever had what they consider to be a religious experience or a powerful experience of God at work in their lives. What I have found is not only that many of those I direct have had such experiences but also that these experiences have played an impor-tant part in their own vocational discernment and their understanding of God. I have also found that people feel very shy or embarrassed about hav-ing had such an experience, have never told anyone about it before, and have a difficult time articulating just what the experience was like. As a director I find that it is very important for me to listen carefully to what they have to say, to reassure them that they are not weird or crazy, to invite them to explore further what they have experienced, and to give them permission to talk about such experiences as they might occur in the future. During the course of direction, I ask people to talk about their prayer life in terms of consistency, method, content, and inner feelings associ-ated with praying. Initially they find this difficult since they frequently lack the language to talk about what happens interiorly when they pray. Very often they have not developed the ability to sit quietly for any ex-tended period of time, to notice what they are feeling, and to distinguish the difference between distractions and movements of God. As we begin, I encourage people to talk about whatever they thought or felt or experienced in their prayer, whether they considered it to be significant or not. I find it important for me to move slowly and to be Leading People into Prayer patient with their attempts not only to pray but also to notice and talk about their experience of prayer. I also find that I need to be sensitive to their desire to please me, to do well in their prayer, or to have some-thing significant to say. I need to reassure them that whatever happens in their attempts to pray is fine with me and is pleasing to God. Related to these considerations is another question we examine early on: For whom is prayer intended? Is it primarily for my benefit, for what I get out of it? Or is it primarily for God? If prayer is just for my benefit and if nothing seems to be happening, I will feel it is a waste of time and will be tempted to give it up. On the other hand, if prayer is for God, it does not make any differ-ence if anything "productive" seems to be happening. Even if it feels like a waste of time to me, I am praying because I am giving my time to God in a way that says that my relationship with God is primary. The fact that I am consistently present to God in my prayer is initially far more important than what ! do or what happens when I pray. When peo-ple come to a different understanding of what prayer is and for whom it is intended, they relax and are more open as they approach prayer. Resistances, Difficulties, and Dryness Beginners in prayer are usually eager and enthusiastic as they begin to develop and deepen their prayer lives and to experiment with new prayer forms. They may experience in new and surprising ways the power of God at work in their prayer. As time passes, however, and they run into resistances, difficulties, and dryness in their prayer, they may become discouraged and disheart-ened with their prayer life. They may feel as if God has abandoned them. It is important to help them understand the dynamics of what is going on in their prayer. A list of some of the common difficulties that tend to make prayer difficult for beginners follows: a) Called to a Different Prayer Frequently the difficulties encountered by beginners in prayer are con-nected to being called by God to a different way of praying, to a deeper level of prayer. Although this is true for all pray-ers, it is especially true for beginners. My experience with beginners in prayer is that they soon discover that the ways of prayer taught them as children and carried with them into adolescence and young adulthood are no longer satisfying to them. It is important to let them explore their dissatisfactions and new yearn-ings and to help them see that perhaps God is calling them to a differ- Review for Religious, May-June 1988 ent, deeper way of praying. b) Wondering What to Do Exploring different ways of praying, however, often brings begin-ners to another difficulty: They do not know how to begin or what to do in their time of prayer. They are intimidated by silence and fear that noth-ing is going to happen or that they will be plagued by distractions. When they are unfocused as they come to prayer, when they have no sense of how to open themselves up to God so that God can enter into their lives, prayer will be extremely difficult for them. I find it is important to explore with beginners what prayer is, what attitudes to bring to prayer, how to interpret and deal with distractions, and what prayer techniques may suit them and open them up to God. If they know their Myers-Briggs type indicator, I offer to go over with them some of the research that has been done on prayer and tem-perament. One resource I would suggest is the book Prayer and Tem-perament by Chester Michael and Marie Norrisey (Charlottesville, Va. : The Open Door, 1984). The Myers-Briggs type indicator seems to be a limited but useful tool in helping people to understand how they ap-proach the world. This understanding can put them in touch with a fa-vored and a shadow side of prayer, an insight that can open them to a sense of God at work in their lives. c) Unworthiness Another difficulty beginners face is the feeling that they are not wor-thy to pray. More specifically, they feel unworthy to come before God, that they have nothing worthwhile to offer to God, and that .they are not worthy to receive anything from God in their time of prayer. These feel-ings are often connected with earlier lifestyles which now cause shame. Sometimes they are connected with images of God which portray God as a perfectionist or as a harsh, impersonal, unforgiving judge who pun-ishes wrongdoing. I find that it is important to let people freely explore their life histories, their images of God, and their own sense of unwor-thiness. d) Looking at All Facets of Life I encourage those I direct to get in touch with their feelings and to tell God in their prayer what they are feeling, thinking, and experienc-ing. This tends to bring into focus several related difficulties for begin-ners in prayer. Leading People into Prayer / 339 The first is their image of God as all-knowing. If God is all-knowing, why should they bother to express what God already knows? A second is that they are often not in touch with what they are feel-ing or with inner movements which might or might not be of God. They have never cultivated the reflective side of their lives. A third is that they are frequently suspicious of emotions, especially those they consider to be negative or sinful, such as anger, lust, or de-spair. They have a difficult time admitting to themselves that they have such emotions. And even when they do, how, for example, could they possibly express to God their angry feelings? Such feelings can be very threatening to them and can reinforce their sense of unworthiness before God. It is important to help beginners get in touch with their feelings and thoughts, to claim them in a non judgmental way, and to begin to express them to God in their prayer. As they do this, God is able to be with them as they are and as he wants to be with them. e) The Right Time and Place Difficulties in prayer can also be related to lifestyle and environment. A poor environment, such as the clutter of their rooms where there are many distractions, can make prayer difficult. I encourage beginners to explore various prayer environments to help them discover a place where they can be with God in peace. The time of day for prayer is important. "Morning" people or "night" people need to adjust prayer times according to their natural biological rhythms. I encourage people to find a time of day when they can give quality prayer time to God, a time of alertness and concentra-tion. The general rhythm of life affects prayer. A scattered life or a life out of balance will not help prayer. One needs a regular and rhythmic balance of work, play, and attending to relationships. I encourage peo-ple to examine their life patterns because a healthy life is related to healthy prayer. t') Consistent Commitment Inconsistency or not enough time given to prayer can make prayer difficult. The development of a healthy, loving, life-giving relationship between any two people requires that they spend sufficient, consistent, quality time together. Our relationship with God is no different. If God is to be present to us as God truly desires, we have to make time for this relationship to develop. It is important to explore with beginners the dis- ~140 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 cipline of consistent prayer. g) Wasting Time with God In the midst of the hectic pace of modern life, it is difficult to find time to pray. Often, for pragmatic, production-oriented Americans, prayer seems like a waste of time. People can always think of "better" ways to spend their time. The need that beginners have for productive prayer is one that needs to be carefully explored. I encourage them to see prayer as an opportunity to waste time gracefully with God. h) Dealing with Setbacks When people miss prayer for a day or two or three, they become dis-couraged. They may want to give up on prayer. My response is encour-agement. When they miss, they do not need to get upset or give up on prayer as a lost cause. I tell them to come back. Prayer is a decision that continually needs to be renewed. If they fall, they should simply get up and start over again. God, I believe, is not all that interested in how many times they have fallen. God is more interested in how many times they got back up and started over again. i) Desolation In his Rules for the Discernment of Spirits, Week I [322], St. Igna-tius suggests three important reasons why we suffer desolation or diffi-culty in prayer. David Fleming, S.J., in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978, pp. 210-211), "reads" the text of St. Ignatius as follows: I. It is our own fault because we have not lived our life of faith with any effort. We have become tepid and slothful and our very shallow-ness in the spiritual life has brought about the experience of desolation; 2. it is a trial period allowed by God. We find ourselves tested as to whether we love God or just love his gifts, whether we continue to fol-low his call in darkness and dryness as well as in light and consolation; 3. it is a time when God lets us experience our own poverty and need. We see more clearly that the free gift of consolation is not something we can control, buy, or make our own. These Ignatian guidelines are geared for beginning Christians. When explained properly, they can be helpful in giving beginning pray-ers some insight into what might be happening in their prayer. Leading People into Prayer / 341 Prayer in Direction I invite those I direct to take time, if they are comfortable in doing so, to join me in prayer at the beginning and/or at the end of our ses-sions together. My/our prayer might be spontaneous or more formal. As we begin, the prayer is a simple petition inviting God to be a part of our time together and asking for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. As we end, the prayer might be a moment of thanksgiving or praise to God for the ways in which the Spirit works in our lives and in the process of spiri-tual direction. It is important not to force this. Beginners in prayer are not usually very comfortable praying out loud or spontaneously. At the same time, such prayer does sensitize beginning pray-ers to the importance of con-tinually inviting God to enter into their lives and of noticing and acknowl-edging the ways in which God can and does act in their lives. Conclusion My experience is that leading people to prayer is an art and not a sci-ence. There is no one textbook approach that works for everyone. Prayer is something very personal and unique. It is a special relationship that develops over time between God and the pray-er. People come to prayer in their own good time and way. As a spiritual director, I cannot make prayer happen; but I can help to facilitate this loving relationship. In work-ing with beginners in prayer, I do not apply the suggestions I have of-fered in this article in any structured or systematic way; but I have found that there are certain common themes and experiences that it is good for me as a spiritual director to be aware of as I seek to lead people under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit into a life of prayer. Marian Year: A Prolonged, Ardent Pentecost Gene Barrette, M.S. Father Barrette last wrote for us in the November/December 1987 issue. The pre-sent article has been adapted from a letter of his to the La Salette Missionaries, of whom he is the superior general. His address: Missionari di N. S. de la Salette; Pi-z, zza Madonna della Salette, 3; 00152 Roma, Italy. I'leturning to Rome from Argentina on June 6, 1987, after nearly twenty-four hours of travel, I was only hazily aware of the events of that day. I noticed some members of my community in front of the TV joining the Holy Father as he prayed the rosary at St. Mary Major's Basilica. A Veri-table prayer chain around the world was formed as simultaneous trans-mission linked groups of the faithful praying in some of the major Marian shrines on five continents. Later in the evening a group from the house went to the Pentecost vigil celebrated in St. Peter's Square, a ceremony full of splendor and evocative images of fire and flowers. These were festivities marking the pope's official opening of the second Marian Year in the history of the Church. This special year, which will close on the feast of the Assumption, 1988, was launched with media fanfare, receiv-ing extensive TV and newspaper coverage here in Rome for a couple of days. And yet, I must humbly admit, in my own jet-lagged heart I felt little excitement or response. In fact, when the Marian Year was first announced, a little demon voice in me had muttered: "What is this man doing? Here the world is facing enormous problems: war, possible nuclear annihilation, the col-lapse of social structures, massive oppression and injustices, and moral confusion; and what does he hold out to the world? A Marian Year!" My 342 Marian Year / 343 initial reaction was not only less than enthusiastic, it was even slightly embarrassed. How shallow that reaction was! For what has Pope John Paul done? I believe he has done something very prophetic, prophetic in the same sense that La Salette is so pro-phetic. At La Salette Mary described a world suffering from famine, dis-ease, and turmoil. And yet what did she propose as a solution? Prayer, attendance at Mass, fasting--in a word, conversion. She proposed solu-tions that in the eyes of the world certainly could only appear "foolish." And so too, perhaps in the eyes of the world or, even worse, in our own worldly eyes, the pope's proclamation of a Marian Year as an important way to prepare for the Third Millennium may seem foolish. But it is the kind of foolishness that in the eyes of God is, in fact, wisdom. In proclaiming a Marian Year, the pope is saying to all of us: "Be-hold your mother!" Yes, this is a year that can help us behold and relate to this maternal reality which is life-giving and life-nurturing; and the life that Mary gives and nurtures is precisely the Christ-life so desper-ately needed in the famine of our days. Yes, behold our mother; behold the woman who is our privileged doorway to Christ, Christ who in fact is the only true answer to the fragmentations, oppressions, and forces of nonlife and darkness threatening our today and shadowing our tomorrow. Any word or act that leads us to this heart of our reality is prophetic. Bringing Mary Out Of Eclipse It is no e×aggeration to say that Marian devotion suffered a diminu-tion during the past twenty-five years or so. Some blame the Vatican Council, others hold theologians at fault. And yet no council has ever spoken so beautifully of Mary as does Lumen Gentium, nos. 52-69. Promi-nent theologians such as Karl Rahner, Schillebeeckx, and even the non- Catholic Max Thurian have written exquisitely on Mary. Bishops' con-ferences have issued pastoral letters on Mary, such as the American bish-ops' beautiful letter Behold Your Mother. The eclipse came as an over-reaction to excesses that at times existed in some Marian devotions; the eclipse also came because our attention was focused on other essential aspects of our Christian, ecclesial life. But Mary is so integral a part of the fabric of our faith that she can-not remain in eclipse. In fact, in Argentina Cardinal Primatesta, in a con-ference to the members of the Council of the Congregation, went on at great length to emphasize that it is Marian devotion that has preserved the Christian faith of the Latin American people over the centuries. This great gift cannot remain in eclipse. :344/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Through the Marian Year, Pope John Paul wants to put dramatically before our eyes and our hearts this life-giving reality that is Mary, Mother of Christ, Mother of the Church; your mother and mine. We are not dealing with pious images or metaphors nor with devotional projec-tions; we are dealing with a reality present to us. Do we recognize this presence? Is it vital for us? Permit me to use an analogy to help me get my point across. Walk outside and look up into the air. Do you hear music or voices and see images? Of course not. And yet that seemingly clear air is full of sounds and images. All you need is a radio or TV and click--you capture them. You hear the music and the voices, you see the pictures. All you need is the proper instrument, properly tuned and with a power source. It is the same thing with the presence of God, the Lord, the Spirit--and yes, of Mary. They are real presences. But unless we have our minds and hearts empowered by the Spirit, attuned in faith, then there is no way that we can be aware of these presences; no way that we can respond to them; no way that we can be touched and transformed by them. In a cer-tain sense the Marian Year is a "tuning time" for us; tuning in to the presence of Mary to her people. How sad it would be not to take advan-tage of this gift. This Spirit-inspired invitation of the Holy Father to give Mary her rightful place in our lives is not intended to lead us simply to a superfi-cial polishing-up of Marian devotion. It is actually a call to enter into the richness and the profound meaning of a Marian spirituality. As John Paul's recent encyclical Redemptoris Mater suggests, it is a question of seeing Mary not simply as part of our "doctrine of faith," but much more of Mary as part of our "life of faith." Mary is the prototype for our own stance before God and the world. Mary has led and continues to lead the way on our pilgrimage of faith. Recognizing that and actively drawing strength from that reality is one way of insuring that Mary will no longer live in a sort of eclipse. This is not the place for a treatise on the fundamentals of a Marian theology. I simply encourage you all to give Redemptoris Mater a prayer-ful, meditative reading. The encyclical, plus chapter VIII in Lumen Gen-tium, gives an excellent summary of Mariology. In these pages I simply want to point out some aspects of Mary that can touch our life of faith; points that may.be light and food for our own journey. Mary: Model for Our Pilgrimage of Faith A recurring phrase in the pope's encyclical is Mary's place in the "pilgrimage of faith" (6, 14, 25, and 26 especially). The whole image Marian Year / 345 of the pilgrimage of faith is a dynamic one capturing the movement, the evolution, the story of a people, of individuals. What is this "pilgrimage of faith" that the Church has lived out through space and time in her individual members? The pope says that its essential character is interior, a "question of a pilgrimage through faith, by the 'power of the Risen Lord,' a pilgrimage in the Holy Spirit" (RM 25). The essential element of this interior pilgrimage is the response that each person gives to the encounter with the Holy Spirit. The faith-response of yes-~offiat, a total "obedience of faith" to the Spirit invit-ing into God's plan-~creates a receptive space for the conception and birthing of Jesus. This pilgrimage of faith is of crucial importance not only because of what it accomplishes in the individual, but more because of what is accomplished through the individual: making Christ present in the world. And Mary, in a unique and special way, is present to and part of this ongoing pilgrimage. "Mary is present, as the one who is 'blessed be-cause she believed,' as the one who advanced on the pilgrimage of faith, sharing unlike any other creature in the mystery of Christ . Among all believers she is like a 'mirror' in which are reflected in the most pro-found and limpid way 'the mighty works of God' " (RM 25). Mary is the prototype and model for all faith-pilgrims. And what can we learn when we look at her response? We discover that "to believe means 'to abandon oneself' to the truth of the word of the living God ¯ . . accepting fully and with a ready heart everything that is decreed in the divine plan., a complete openness to the person of Christ, to his whole work, to his whole mission" (RM 14, 39). This total acceptance, this total giving oneself to God's plan, is evi-dent throughout Mary's life: in thefiat of the annunciation moment, in the journey to Bethlehem and the birth in such humble surroundings, in the flight to Egypt, in the "ponderings in her heart" during the early years, in the intercession at Cana, in the years of remaining in the back-ground during the preaching, teaching, and healing and on the fringe of the crowds adulating or condemning, at the foot of the cross, and then in the midst of the apostles for the empowering on Pentecost. Certainly it is not difficult to see in Mary the total gift of her person to serving the saving plan of the Father. Unique? Yes, Mary is. And yet we share in the same call, the same mission. As the American bishops stated in their pastoral letter: "Mary conceived in her heart with her whole being, before she conceived in her :346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 womb. First came Mary's faith, then her motherhood. Faith is the key . All who truly follow Christ become 'mothers' of Christ, for by their faith they bring Him to birth" (Behold Your Mother, 71). This radical response of faith, as Cardinal Ratzinger effectively stated in a homily at St. Mary Major's on June 10, 1987, shows that Mary is "above all the sign of the fecundity of faith in history." The fecundity of faith is that it brought forth Life itself, which is Jesus. Je-sus is God's supreme entrance into history. It is in Jesus that God once and for all puts history on the road of salvation, of liberation, of com-pletion. Jesus is the ever present Life that transforms history. What bet-ter way, therefore, to move towards the third millennium than to look at Mary, the supreme example and model of the power of faith to bring Jesus into the world? The Marian Year is an invitation to do this. Mary: A Maternal Presence Mary is model for our pilgrimage of faith, but she is more. She is an accompanying maternal presence--guiding, interceding, helping with the sensitivity that only a mother can have. And that is also a reality-- she is truly a mother to each of as. Mary as mother of the human race, again, is not just poetry. It is clearly stated and established at the foot of the cross. "Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother." Mary as model is a great gift of the Father to us; but even more, Mary as mother is the great gift of the Father and the Son to us. Again, in the words of Pope John Paul, "Mary's motherhood which becomes man's inheritance is a gift; a gift which Christ himself makes personally to every individual . Of the essence of motherhood is the fact that it concerns the person. Motherhood always establishes a unique and unrepeatable relationship between two people: between mother and child and between child and mother" (RM 45). Mary is not "out there" somewhere; she is intimately linked with you and me, whether we pay attention to that link or not. This relationship is part of our reality. Turning and relating to Mary as our mother is not an appeal to senti-mentalism. Rather it is turning to a source of life. Again Cardinal Ratz-inger had a beautiful and suggestive image in his homily: "If the Church in its everyday life does not want to be reduced merely to an arid institu-tion or to an activism that burns itself out, it must look to Mary. Life can grow and develop only under the warmth of a maternal heart." It is there under the warmth of the mother's heart that life first begins and grows in the womb; and it is in the light and warmth of the love of a mother's heart that life continues to grow and be strengthened and made whole years and years after leaving the womb. This immense maternal Marian Year / 347 love Mary has for us has a transforming power. Why do we hesitate or simply neglect to reach out for and seize this maternal love? It may be just the thing that many of us and our people need to turn our lives around and become spaces open to the Spirit and be Christ-bearers. The picture of Mary as our mother certainly is central in Mary's ap-parition at La Salette. She began with the words "Come near, my chil-dren . . . I have great news to tell you." In these very opening words there is already great news: the news that we are her children, and there-fore she is our mother. While Cardinal of Cracow, the Holy Father gave a very insightful observation on the motherhood of Mary during a homily he preached on the occasion of the seventy-fifth anniversary of the presence of the La Salette Missionaries in Poland. Speaking of Mary as mother of the hu-man family, mother of the Church, he said, "We know well that a mother who loves cries more than once . . . and if among the Church-approved private apparitions of Mary there was lacking this Mary in tears, our image of maternal love would somehow be incomplete. The mother who loves, sometimes weeps. Even more when a grave danger menaces her child . Her maternal tears are a special proof of love, necessary for humanity, necessary for our people today." How often do we ourselves draw near to those tears of love? How often do we lead our people to those tears of love? ¯ The tears that Mary's love produces are shed in response to our own pain, our own suffering, our own danger, our own brokenness, our own sinfulness. Towards the end of Redemptoris Mater (51-52), the Holy Fa-ther refers to the lines from one of the Marian hymns after compline: "Loving mother of the Redeemer, gate of heaven, star of the sea, assist your people who have fallen, yet strive to rise again." He speaks of the great advances of recent times in human history. And yet, throughout the marvels of our journey in time and space with all the transformations we have witnessed, there remains a fundamental transformation, and that is the ongoing transformation from falling to rising, from death to life. As the Holy Father points out, "the Church sees Mary maternally present and sharing in the many complicated problems which today beset the lives of individuals, families, and nations, and she sees her helping the Christian people in the constant struggle between good and evil, to en-sure that it does not fall or, if it has fallen, that it rises again." This should resonate in each of us if we are sensitive to our own pil-grimage of faith with its rhythms of falling and rising, with its experi-ence of our fragilities and infidelities, with our failings and beginnings 341~/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 anew. Such is our experience as individuals; such is our experience as a community, as a congregation, as a Church, as God's people. Mary's appeal at La Salette certainly relates to our need for conver-sion. (Is the same thing perhaps happening today at Medjugorje?) Yet why do we shy away from this gift offered to us? Why are we so often indifferent, blas6 about these obvious signs of maternal love rushing to us, children in danger, children in pain, children needing help? Is it that we feel that we are big boys now, grown up, ~tnd therefore no longer need-ing this consolation, this warmth, this encouragement, this drying of our own tears, and this loving embrace that helps us believe in our own good-ness and the Spirit's action sending us onwards in new beginnings again and again? The Marian Year can be the privileged occasion for us to re-discover this great gift if we have been neglecting it, or to deepen our love for it if we have not forgotten it. Mary: Continued Presence in Mission to Us Mary, model for us on the pilgrimage of faith; Mary, continued pres-ence as mother. Let us now look at Mary and her own mission, which continues today. As Redemptoris Mater (21) reminds us, Mary's own sense of mis-sion began to be felt at Cana. There we see Mary's solicitude, her com-ing to people in the wide variety of their wants and needs. This solici-tude has certainly been manifested during this last century and a half in her apparitions, especially at La Salette, where her caring wrung tears from her heart. Mary's mission has a twofold movement. She comes to the aid of human needs, but this means that she brings those needs within the ra-dius of Christ's salvific power, as she shows at Cana. At La Salette this is seen in the image we have of the two children, representing our bro-kenness and neediness, being drawn into the radiance that streamed from the crucifix, the ultimate symbol of Christ's saving love. "Thus there is a mediation: Mary places herself between her son and mankind in the reality of their wants, needs, and sufferings . Her mediation is in the nature of intercession: Mary intercedes for mankind" (RM 21), a truth echoing Mary's own words at La Salette, "How long a time have I suf-fered for you . " Lumen Gentium (62) described this same reality: "Taken up to heaven, she did not lay aside this saving role, but by her manifold acts of intercession continues to win for us gifts of eternal sal-vation." This mediation, this mission, this divine pastoral, we might say, continues in the history of the Church and the world. Marian Year / 349 Karl Rahner describes Mary's life as "the archetypal apostolic event . What the apostolate is can be read from her and what she did; she is a productive pattern for the apostolate, not a mere ideal instance of its abstract essence" ("Mary and the Apostolate," Mission and Grace, vol. 1, p. 181). He then outlines some of the characteristics ob-servable in Mary's apostolate. They can serve for reflection on our own apostolate during this Marian Year. In the apostolate of Mary: a) There is a consciousness of its being a mission given from above. (How vivid is this conviction for our own life and ministry?) b) She shows a capacity to wait for the right moment, to know that the mission is to be fulfilled in God's time and manner. (Does not much of our own discouragement at times come from relying too exclusively on our own power, our own schedule, our own programs?) c) There is self-withdrawal behind the person she serves; most of her life is hidden, it is Christ who is brought to the fore. d) There is loyal perseverance. Mary did not merely say yes once, in one great moment. She sustained that yes patiently, silently, con-stantly in the serene assurance of the true believer, in the mature sim-plicity of real greatness, throughout a whole lifetime. (How strongly do we strive for this in our age of easily abandoned commitments? How con-scious are we of deepening this yes every day?) e) There is the cross, a heart stabbed through with the sword of suf-fering together with her Son; there is even the noncomprehension of the decrees of God and of the actions of the Lord himself whom she served. It is an apostolate of hope against hope, of faith before victory is won, of a venture whose reward is not paid in advance, of a loyalty that gives all. (To what extent can we find this spirit of sacrifice, of trust, during our darkest and driest moments in our own lives?) These are foundations for a ~olid Marian spirituality inserted into the very fabric of our apostolic call and going way beyond simple devotion. Yes, Mary is there for us as model for our apostolate. But even more, she is there as a source of the help that we need. Not help with this or that small favor, but help for our deepest need--help in being effective Christ-bearers. Mary's Magnificat Finally, Mary serves as a powerful example and model of the capac-ity to recognize what God has done and is doing in our lives. Her Mag-nificat is precisely this: Mary's personal experience of God's action in herself and in her people. This consciousness compels her to break out 350 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 into simple and wholly inspired praise, boldly proclaiming the undimmed truth about God, who "has done great things" in her as well as in the whole universe (RM 37). Mary was truly attuned to what God was accomplishing. Could we not write our own Magnificat---on a personal level and on a community level? I recall how touched I was in Angola upon hearing of a mission community having its yearly meeting with its satellite communities. The celebration began with the recounting of their history: how the commu-nity had started, the first ones involved, the failure of the first commu-nity, the second effort, the people involved, the priests who served them. And this was not simply read, but was corrected and added to by the mem-bers themselves. They were recounting the Lord's deeds, the great things he had done for them. And in this regular exercise they were keeping this reality vividly before them. What a beautiful way to attune one's heart and mind to the reality to which we can so often become blinded! The Magnificat is also used extensively as a solid Marian light which makes us vividly aware of God's love of preference for the poor, the hum-ble, and how this is intimately connected with the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation--of redemption. Here again Mary has her place. She can serve as an inspiration in this aspect of the Christian mission be-cause, as stated in the Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation published in 1986, "Mary is totally dependent upon God and completely directed towards him, and at the side of her Son she is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe" (97). Mary helps us understand that the most radical source of true lib-eration of individuals and even structures is precisely this total surren-der or, as she reminds us at La Salette, this submission to God and his plan for us. Without a revolution of the heart, merely political and so-cial revolutions only lay the foundations for the.next revolution in an end-less chain of humanly oppressive and destructive revolts. Mary proclaims the great things that God does, but these are done for those "who fear him," those who not only are poor and lowly, but have surrendered to him. Mary calls, in a variety of ways, to this radical revolution, which is first and foremost conversion. There is much richness to. draw from here and in other truths about Mary, such as her role in the growing appreciation of the feminine as-pect of the divine presence and the Church. Mary truly offers a seem-ingly inexhaustible source of faith reflection. And again, the Marian Year is an invitation to do such reflection. Marian Year / 351 How Celebrate the Marian Year? Concretely, what are some of the things we can do to benefit from this year of grace? First of all, spend time with Mary. It is as plain and as simple as that. If we are not already doing so, we should make time for her in our day. Let us do like the apostle John and welcome Mary, take her into our own home. Let us bring her into everything that makes up our inner life; that is to say, let us take her into our human and Christian "I," as the pope beautifully expressed it (RM 45). This is the first step: profess our faith in Mary's great love and presence by simply spending time with her and opening our hearts, our lives, as wide as possible to her maternal love. Prayerfully read Redemptoris Mater and other texts on Mary. Again, do this to feed the heart more than the head. Avoid reading only the kinds of works that foster such a strong analytical, critical spirit that one ends up with slices and splices, theological abstractions about Mary, but not with a living presence. Read not to try to dispel the mystery that natu-rally accompanies any great truth of our faith, but read to encounter this mystery with ever greater love. Read and pray to move from professing to living a deep love for Mary, Mother of Christ and of the Church. If some of us have left the rosary aside, let us explore ways to begin to re-discover its possibilities for reflection, for rhythmic, simple centering on Jesus and Mary. If you have a good imagination, use it. St. Ignatius in his Spiritual Exercises does not neglect this tremendous power that we have. In re-cent. years we have easily dismissed using the imagination in prayer and meditation, often because of our climate of high intellectualization, often from a desire to quickly arrive at more advanced levels of prayer. My own suggestion is to try imaging as you spend time with Mary. The re-sults may surprise you. Visualize Mary with you in every situation of your life and of her life. Talk to her, let her talk to you. Let her hold what is still the child in you that may be trembling with fear, doubt, an-ger, confusion, fatigue. Hear her call you by name; hear her invite you to come near; hear her send you forth. Write your own Magnificat. Spend time tracing the great things God has done both in your own life and in the congregation. Recognize God's action in the flesh and blood of your own history: when and how he looked with favor on his lowly servant; when and how he smashed and scattered you in your pride, cast you down from any little thrones you had set up for yourself, or sent you away aware of how empty you re-ally were when you thought you were so rich; how and when he lifted 352 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 you up even as you experienced most forcefully your own lowliness. Put all that into concrete, vivid terms. And then give praise. Then write your own fiat. Look into the depths of your present and look out towards the possible future and with conviction spell out the fiat, the yes, even though you are not sure of the cost, the possible ex-iles, the shape or duration of the cross you may have to carry, to climb upon. "Yes--be it done to me according to your word." Yes, I let go of my plans, my conditions. I surrender, I submit. Fiat! Again, spell that out in the concrete terms of your own life. At the same time, offer a prayer to Mary asking for her assistance to live out thisfiat as fully and as deeply as possible. And let us not fail the people we serve. Invite them to Mary. Let us attract and lead them to what the pope calls the "specific geography of faith and Marian devotion., these special places of pilgrimage where the People of God seek to meet the Mother of God in order to find, within the radius of the maternal presence of her 'who believes,' a strengthening of their own faith" (RM 28). Our shrines, our programs of devotion, all these can be sources of grace through Mary for the con-tinuing pilgrimage of faith. Be creative in bringing Mary to people and people to Mary. I close with words from our Holy Father's prayer for the Marian Year: "Mary, you received Jesus with ready obedience and undivided heart. You allowed yourself to be led by the Holy Spirit's hidden and powerful action. Sustain us, O Virgin Mary, on our journey of faith." My own prayer for all of us echoes the pope's prayer at a Mass re-cently in Foggia: "May this Marian Year be for individual souls and for the entire community a prolonged, ardent Pentecost." Personal Responsibility in .Initial Formation Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie's most recent contribution to this journal is her "Quotations for Com-munity" in the January/February 1988 issue. She may be addressed at Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. For most formation directors, one thing is clear: One of our main con-cerns in the initial formation process is to encourage personal responsi-bility in the persons we direct. What is less clear is the answers to these questions: What exactly is personal responsibility? Why is it so impor-tant in initial formation? How can we encourage it in our directees? What are some signs that a person is, indeed, growing in personal responsibil-ity? And what are some of the obstacles to our encouraging of personal responsibility? This article attempts to explore some answers to these questions. It is based on a series of discussions that our initial-formation team had this past year. I am indebted to our candidate director, Sister Annete Adams, and our director of temporary professed, Sister Mary Catherine Caine, for their valuable input on this topic. Although we were primarily inter-ested in personal responsibility in initial formation, much of what is said here can also apply to the ongoing formation process as well. What is personal responsibility? It is perhaps easier to describe personal responsibility than it is to define it. We saw personal responsibility as a person's ability to make good decisions and to accept the consequences of his or her decisions. Such decisions are made freely; they are not made out of fear or guilt or coercion. The decisions or choices are basically good; that is, they are 353 354 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 based on Gospel ~alues and they are motivated by love. They take into consideration factors other than the person's own feelings and prefer-ences. And, finally, the decisions are open to the Spirit and open to change as life presents the individual with more knowledge, more expe-riences, and more insights. Why is personal responsibility so important? There are a number of reasons why personal responsibility is so im-portant in initial formation. One reason concerns one of the goals of the initial-formation process: the making of a life commitment. Such a com-mitment is valid only if it is made freely, with adequate knowledge and understanding, and if it proceeds from love. In other words, the very mak-ing of valid vows presupposes personal responsibility. But personal responsibility extends beyond the making of a commit-ment; it is essential for the living of such a commitment in a healthy and happy way. Once a person "graduates" from the "schoo| of initial for-mation," he or she is expected to assume responsibility for his or her own growth and development. It is crucial, then, that formation direc-tors see and encourage personal responsibility throughout the initial-formation process. A third reason why personal responsibility is so vital concerns the nature of religious life today. The many changes in the structures of re-ligious life since Vatican II call for far more personal responsibility than in the past. Changes in our understanding of the vows and community also put far greater emphasis on an individual's ability to make good de-cisions and choices. How can we encourage personal responsibility? If personal responsibility is so important in initial formation, what are some of the ways we can encourage it in the persons we direct? One way we can encourage it is to talk about it. We do this not once and for all, but over and over again, in a variety of ways, from different per-spectives as the person grows and matures in the initial-formation proc-ess. We should talk about personal responsibility in both a general way and a specific way. In a general way we discuss with them the nature and importance of personal responsibility. In a specific way we talk with them one on one about how responsible they are. This means we have to ask some probing questions such as these: When and where are you praying? How do you see yourself carrying out your duties such as study, housework, your involvement in community? What are your responsi-bilities in your current ministry and how are you handling them? What Personal Responsibility in Formation / 355 personal decisions or choices have you made recently? Do you see these decisions or choices as good? Why or why not? How are you getting along with the people you live with and work with? Do they see you as a responsible person or not? A second way to encourage personal responsibility is to allow the per-son in formation the freedom to make choices--both good choices and not-so-good choices. This means that as directors we allow an individ-ual to make mistakes. It has been my experience as novice director that some of the worst choices my novices made were some of the most bene-ficial for their growth. Thirdly, we encourage personal responsibility by affirming a person when we see him or her assuming personal responsibility. We can also encourage it by allowing our directees to live with and work side by side with professed members of the community who have achieved a healthy level of personal responsibility. Nothing teaches better than example. What are some signs of personal responsibility in a person? What are some tangible signs that a person in formation is assuming personal responsibility? For brevity's sake, I will merely list some of those signs as we saw them: The person: --gives evidence of self-knowledge and self-esteem --is basically happy and at ease with life --is able to learn from experience --is able to do things he or she does not like to do --gives evidence of being essentially self-directed ~isplays a consistency between stated beliefs and choices --is able to draw from a variety of sources when making serious deci-sions --gives evidence that he or she has thought through and prayed over the more serious decisions he or she has to make --is open to suggestions and direction --is able to deal with irresponsibility in others; this means he or she can accept it when necessary, but also is able to confront it when this would be the more appropriate option --is consistent in behavior no matter who is or is not present --gives evidence of a healthy interdependence with others --assumes initiative ---can deal with boredom or routine 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 --- can handle both failure and success What are some obstacles to encouraging personal responsibility? As formation directors, what are some of the obstacles we face in trying to encourage persona.I responsibility in the persons we direct? I think the main obstacles come from three different sources: our directees, the wider community, and ourselves. Sometimes the persons we have in initial formation make it difficult for us to encourage personal responsibility. Some individuals come to religious life desiring to hand over all personal responsibility in the name of holiness. They come to us with a tell-me-what-to-do-and-I-will-do-it attitude. In sharp contrast, others enter religious life equating personal responsibility with let-me-do-whatever-I-want-to-do. Both types make it difficult for formation directors to encourage a healthy personal respon-sibility. Other times one of our obstacles may be members of the wider com-munity. Some professed members may possess an obsolete understand-ing of initial formation which says, "Tell the novice what to do. If she does it, fine. If she doesn't, tell her to leave." When a formation direc-tor, in the name of freedom, allows a person in formation to make a poor choice, other members might cry out: "You're letting her get away with murder!" At times like these, formation directors must be convinced that there is much more to formation than having a directee make what ap-pear to be "the right choices all the time." But the greatest obstacle to encouraging personal responsibility usu-ally lies within ourselves as formation directors. We can fall into two "camps" depending on our personalities. If I, as a director, am a per-son who likes to be in control, then I might want to control my directees too much. This means I might not allow them the real freedom to make their own decisions and thus to grow through them. Perhaps I might con-trol their choices through force or even charm. Perhaps, in the name of saving them the pain of a poor choice, I might tell them what to do. Or maybe I control their decisions for fear of what the next director or the wider community will think of me. On the other hand, if I am fearful of my authority as a formation di-rector, I might adopt a laissez-faire style of direction. This means I might let anything and everything go. I might not challenge the persons in for-mation. I may be afraid to question the choices I see them making. Be-cause most communities have so few in initial formation, I might be tempted to "keep" everyone no matter how much irresponsibility I see. Personal Responsibility in Formation / 357 In conclusion, then, we have seen that growth in personal responsi-bility is an integral part of the initial-formation process. But more than that, it is an intrinsic component of lifelong happiness. Someone has said, "There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are differ-ent from the things we do." Through the encouragement of personal re-sponsibility, formation directors can help individuals achieve greater har-mony between belief and behavior. Your World is Your World, mythirst. Love, will all these as beautiful earthly treasures as the one stillbemine? You give me orshall I each day? lose forever will I see thesmell the changing of burning leaves, of the sky., noreveragain will I watch see the trees the birds fly ofmy autumn days beyond my horizon., change their dress? will I feel wherewill the touch all these be, of warm water Love. ? as it caresses oh! surely, my flesh, I'll have or its cold them all coolness in having You! as it slakes Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. Valparaiso Community 140 Valparaiso Avenue Menlo Park, California 94025 Refounding Through Values Barbara D. Ledig Ms. Ledig is president of Omega Associates, Inc., in Santa Clara, California. With others from Omega, she has for almost ten years helped religious orders and congre-gations to adjust, with value-based systemic discernment, to the significant changes of the post-Vatican II world. This paper explains the theory and practice of Omega's methods, methods that will be used in the August 1988 workshop for religious lead-ership personnel to be held at Santa Clara University and sponsored by that university and by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. She may be addressed at 410 Pinehurst Avenue; Los Gatos, CA 95030. What is happening in our institutions today? This question is being fre-quently asked by religious congregations, educational institutions, health-care facilities, and,~more recently, sectors of business and industry. It seems that the guidelines and structures that characterized these systems since their first formal beginnings have become increasingly unfocused. This is unsettling not only for those who administer and lead these institutions but for those affected by them. A major portion of society, therefore, is dealing with a shift that is little understood, a shift accom-panied by anxiety and indecision. Solutions that once worked have be-come obsolete and there are no models for new ones. Our religious institutions are experiencing this shift more profoundly than many others in that they have been around for a longer time. They are, therefore, further away from their beginnings, beginnings rooted an historical reality very different from the one in which we are currently living. Members of these institutions are finding that the ideas on which they were built and the type of management that enabled them to sur-vive and flourish are no longer working. The population of religious per-sonnel who drive these institutions is diminishing; as a result people who do not necessarily share the original values that gave birth to them are 358 Refounding Through Values / 359 the ones responsible for making decisions regarding the way they func-tion and how they will be carried into the future. An Historical Perspective The extreme change in the Western world resulting from the French and American Revolutions and the Industrial Revolution in England led to the birth of the great teaching and mission orders of the 1800s. These orders, especially those of women, generally came to operate on a basis of uniformity in dress, behavior, and prayer, with detailed rules and con-stitutions regulating daily life. It was through Vatican II in the 1960s that these issues were readdressed and the Church began to return to a more flexible, collegial orientation and urged religious congregations to re-study and return to their founding charism. Communal life in the convents, and seminaries, where often a hun-dred or more people shared living quarters, began to take the form of small communities for the purpose of increasing the quality of life through relationships in which personal growth could more readily be en-couraged and nurtured. The ultimate goal was increased unity in the Church for the purpose of common mission. The vision was a good one but did not anticipate sufficiently the wide range of skills needed to cope with a radically changed environment and more complex interpersonal relationships. The old hierarchical structures and lines of authority were removed or became unclear, and participative decision making was en-couraged. The effects of these changes increased dramatically over the years and are now being experienced in their extreme. The Dynamics of Transition The removal of clear lines of authority has created multiple handi-caps for those in leadership positions. When clear rules dictate what is right and wrong and when authority is vested in one person, as was the case before Vatican II, decisions can be made on objective criteria that are commonly understood and accepted. When these lines of authority become hazy, when the guidelines are unclear, decision making becomes a more complex issue. Personal and communal discernment, methods that have replaced the more authoritarian ones for decision making, re-spect the integrity of the individual on the one hand but require a more complex level of skills on the other. There has been a shift from a rigid structure to a more flexible one. During the last seven years our work with numerous national and inter-national congregations has, however, shown that this shift is incomplete. Most religious institutions are resting somewhere between a hierarchi- 360/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 cal, rule-oriented structure and a flexible, collegial one. The result is con-fusion, internal conflict, and tremendous stress on leadership. It is a time of difficult transition. Older sisters and priests who have given their lives to build these in-stitutions in order to provide relief to the suffering through their minis-tries feel unappreciated and confused about changing a way that was once so strongly validated. Younger sisters and priests are also experiencing confusion about the past as well as the uncertain futures into which their congregations are moving. The dynamics of such a transition are two-fold. There is a pull back to the old, secure model on the one hand and an equally strong pull to move quickly to a new model on the other. Mem-bers of a congregation caught in the first dynamic may become rigid, an-gry, and controlling while those in the second are prone to overly inde-pendent behaviors. In both cases there is a loss of meaning. These dy-namics are not necessarily related to the different age groups within the congregation but appear to be more dependent on the personalities of the individuals. Going back is not possible, nor desirable. What once worked was ap-propriate for the times. Society has changed, our institutions have changed, and people have changed. How do we bring clarity, unity, and efficiency into our institutions so that they can serve the function for which they were created and at the same time enable them to respect and dignify the growth and well-being of the individuals they serve? The hi-erarchical structures that once worked so well must change in form to meet the demands of this new age and become flexible structures that fa-cilitate caring for individual members and releasing the original energy of the charism of the congregation. The values that gave birth to the in-stitution must be renewed and preserved so they 'can flow through its mem-bers and be expressed in mission, but the way in which those values are expressed must change. The structures that have been removed must be replaced by value-oriented ones. In order to effect this change the insti-tution must first become clear about what values lie at the heart of its system. The core center of values, the faith center, must be identified and clarified. Once this is accomplished the clarified core values, imple-mented by historically congruent means, provide the new structures which enable appropriate adaptation to the future. The Nature of Values Values are not a new phenomenon in our society. Aristotle and Plato spoke of them in the light of ideals, or virtues. They were dealt with mainly in the abstract in terms of states of being to be strived for. Refounding Through Values / 36"1 St. Paul spoke of values in his letter to the Galatians: "Anyone can see the kind of behavior that belongs to the lower nature: fornication, im-purity, and indecency; idolatry and sorcery; quarrels, a contentious tem-per, envy, fits of rage, selfish ambitions, dissensions, party bouts, or-gies, and the like . But the harvest of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control" (Ga 5:19-23 NEB). In this case values were seen as signs that differentiated behaviors guided by the Spirit from those that were not. In more recent history we have the value-clarification movement of the 1960s and in the 1980s the high point of value consciousness in busi-ness and industrial settings brought forth largely by such books as In Search of Excellence by Peters and Waterman, Theory Z: How Ameri-can Business Can Meet the Japanese Challenge by Ouchi, and Corpo-rate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life by Deal and Ken-nedy. However, the reality is that it has been difficult to work with values because they tend to elude the possibility for practical application and measurement. The work of Omega Associates, Inc., of Santa Clara, Cali-fornia has been focused on value research for the past twenty years. Dur-ing this period of time we have worked on discovering ways to identify and measure values so that they can be used more creatively to enhance the quality of human life. The first step in this ongoing process was the identification of 125 value words in the written and spoken language. We found that these val-ues appear consistently throughout the life span of individuals and or-ganizations and appear to be stable and evident across all social strata, languages, and cultures. They constitute one segment of a values theory developed by Brian Hall, Benjamin Tonna, and more recently Barbara Ledig which is the basis for an understanding of how values on the indi-vidual and corporate level work. The values theory holds as a basic assumption that language influ-ences behavior, whether it is written language, spoken language, or the language of art and architecture. Some words and groups of words have a greater effect on behavior than others, and we call these words values. The value words we identified form the basis for computerized programs which analyze values in individuals, groups, institutions, and documents and serve as a framework through which we can look at all sections of a system through a common denominator. The basis of the framework is the 125 values. The principles which guide the understanding of how 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 the values work are found in the values theory. Values Theory and the Genesis Effect The basic concept underlying the values theory is taken from an an-cient idea that has only recently been confirmed by modern science. That is, each thought, feeling, and action is preceded by an internal image. That image is transformed into action through language, the language of values. Value words are conveyers of energy and form configurations that reflect the internal imaging process through human or organizational behavior. That is, they identify clusters of human experience and act as a bridge between the inner world of thoughts, feelings, sensations, and intuitions and the outer world of concrete reality. Values are understood in this context as behavioral priorities that an individual acts on. This proc-ess has been defined by Hall as the "genesis effect" in a book by the same name and is based on the biblical concept that it was through, the spoken word that God transformed an inner image of creation into real-ity. In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said, "Let there be !ight," and there was light. God saw how good the light was . Then God said: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cat-tle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground." God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them (Gn 1:1-4, 26-27 NAB). Values and Their Patterns To identify and clarify our values is a step in the right direction, but what do we do with them after that? Our research has shown us that it is not so much values in themselves that are important, but the way in which they combine with other values in one's life and the priority these combinations take at a given time. We have long been aware of some of the value combinations and the way they can be grouped into clusters and patterns. However, a significant point was reached in our work just six years ago due to new advances in computer technology. Brian Hall and associates of Omega in cooperation with students in the Graduate Di-vision of Counseling Psychology and Education at Santa Clara Univer-sity in Santa Clara, California, discovered new ways to measure and ap-ply values and new ways to break them into patterns and clusters so that they could be compared and contrasted more extensively. This gave us Refounding Through Values more comprehensive information regarding their meaning in the life of persons and institutions. Since that time we have validated our meth-odologies and applied them extensively in religious, educational, and health-care systems involving several international cultures and over 6,000 individuals. The information we obtain from the identification and comparison of value priorities and clusters is used to do a value analysis for the pur-pose of understanding the qualitative nature of the values and their rela-tionship to the meaning system of the individual or the institution. Once this is clear, rigid rule-oriented structures can be replaced by new life-giving ones based on the energy and purpose inherent in the individual or system rather than on external, objective criteria that may be histori-cally biased. Value Pattern I: Phases and Stages In this value pattern we see the 125 values placed along a progres-sive developmental scale divided into phases and stages. The range of the phases is from I to IV with those most basic to human life and devel-opment falling into Phase I. These values progressively become more com-plex as the human being grows and develops, with Phase IV reflecting values of maximum complexity requiring high levels of intellectual, spiri-tual, and emotional development and an environment that supports their expression. This developmental scale does not assume a positive or negative value but rather places emphasis on the integration of the values in the life journey of the individual or the institution in terms of the skill de-velopment needed in order to live them out behaviorally. It is the com-bination of the values and how they fall against the backdrop of the four phases in relationship to one another that determines the quality of life expression. Each of the four phases is divided into two stages, an A stage and a B stage. Values in the A stages are personal values, and values in the B stages are those lived out primarily through institutional interaction. These institutions include the family, place of work, church or syna-gogue, government structures, and religious congregation. Because a per-son's value choices are always limited and influenced by the institutions in which he or she lives and works, the degree to which this interaction can be measured and understood influences the degree to which the per-son can have clarity about the environment's effect on the quality of his or her life. The end result is heightened insight and the ability to make more focused choices. Likewise, an institution can become aware of the 3611 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 impact it is having on its members. Value Pattern II: Act, Choice, and Vision The value combinations in their phases and stages can also be pat-terned according to the priority they take in one's life in terms of pre-sent choices, past development, and emerging futures. Choice values are those that are the present focus of one's life in terms of time and energy expenditure. These choices are not always made freely but are condi-tioned by one's life circumstances. For example, a person may value his or her family a great deal, but if a crisis in the work place occurs he or she may have to work twelve hours a day until the crisis is resolved. In this case, the value of family would of necessity become secondary in terms of the time and energy available to be dedicated to it. Act values are those values that are foundational to human life. They are the basic values which enable survival and security in the world. When these values are threatened by a change in one's environment, such as a move to a new culture or the loss of a job, priority energy must be diverted from the areas of choice in order to deal with the change. Vision values are those values which energize us and pull us toward hopeful futures. They motivate us in the present by giving meaning our day-to-day experience and enabling us to see beyond ourselves and our present reality. In an institution, Act values serve as the foundation in terms of poli-cies, procedures, benefits, and so on. The Choice values are those which guide day-to-day direction and define the management structure. Vision values provide the purpose of the institution and affect the way in which Choice values are operationalized. Value Pattern III: Cycles A third value pattern emerges when the combinations of values in their personal and institutional dimensions form cycles of development. There are seven such cycles, and each has its own unique worldview. Information around the values in each of these cycles helps in the inter-pretation of an individual's or group's leadership and management style, ethical orientation, faith stance, management of time, and behavior pat-terns under stress. Of particular significance to professional religious per-sonnel are the different ways in which the vows can be understood at each of these cycles. The first cycle is called the Primal Cycle. At this cycle the individ-ual experiences the world as a hostile and alien place in which primary needs are those centered on security and survival. He or she emphasizes Refounding Through Values / 365 material possession because it is through material structures that survival is made possible. This is primarily the world of young children or aged adults who must depend on others to care for them and provide them with basic security. However, through the life journey most people will ex-perience values in this cycle from time to time, for we never lose our need for safety and security. The ethical stance of this cycle is one of self-interest which insures survival. A leader who operates primarily out of Cycle I values will have an autocratic and authoritarian style with his or her subordinates for the purpose of maintaining total control. Delegation comes with difficulty because it is perceived as a diminishment of personal power. God is ex-perienced as a savior who heals one's pain but who is distant and imper-sonal. The task at this cycle is to learn the skills needed to survive in an alien environment and to develop a creative and positive imagination that will facilitate healthy movement into other cycles. The second cycle is the Familial Cycle. As the world becomes less alien and new skills are learned, there is an emphasis placed on values related to belonging to a family, a particular group, or a respected insti-tution. It is important to learn skills that enable one to be accepted by and to contribute to the group. The ethical stance at this cycle is based on fairness and mutual re-spect. Laws and rules are expected to be followed so as to maintain an ordered environment. A leader operating out of this cycle will tend to be benevolent to those who work for him or her but will expect them to obey the rules. The attitude is best described as maternal or paternal in that followers are cared for but are not given any authority. This becomes problematic when the follower wants more autonomy and responsibility. At this cycle God is experienced as a parental master and teacher, through one's parents and through the ministerial figures in the church or synagogue. The primary task at this cycle is to learn skills through formal edu-cation and to begin to understand the world more broadly. Sound relig-ious education in the Faith and in Scripture are important. The third cycle is called the Institutional Cycle. It is here that the world begins to be experienced as less alien than before, and increased emphasis is placed on education as a means to achievement and success. There is often tension between the time spent with one's family and the time spent doing things necessary to enable the family to survive. 366/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Ethical choices are most likely to be based on what the law and re-spected institutions say is right. A leader operating with priority values in this cycle will have a bureaucratic style and will place high value on efficient and orderly management. Loyalty to the company will be ex-pected and rewarded and disloyalty considered a serious offense. The bu-reaucratic leader may delegate to others but only to those who are most skilled and who have proven their loyalty. God is experienced as master and teacher and is often represented through the ministers and priests of the church. The sacramental life and personal prayer are considered important, as are institutional religion and commitment to a local church or synagogue. The primary task at this cycle is to learn interpersonal and social skills and the skills of one's profession. It is also a time to begin under-standing the difference between one's own values and the values held by one's family. It is a time of preparation for conversion to special service related to God's call. The fourth cycle is the Intrapersonal Cycle. At this time the world begins to be experienced as less certain than before, and new questions arise regarding previously held beliefs and attitudes. A search for new personal meaning and values may be embarked upon and the teachings of formerly respected institutions looked upon more critically. Profes-sional successes may become less important as the individual strives to discover his or her unique skills and abilities. There is a pull between a strong need for independence and meeting the demands of the institu-tions of which one is a part. Issues around social justice may take on new interest and lead to increased involvement in political or social arenas. The ethical orientation at the Intrapersonal Cycle becomes confused as one pulls away from old ways of making decisions and strives to put into action values that are beginning to create a new, more individual-ized way of assessing reality. A leader with priority values at this cycle will struggle between meeting the needs of the institution and being sen-sitive to the more personal needs of his or her employees. It is a time of confusion and of search for the balance between these two, often op-posing, factors. Hence, it may also be a time of inaction because it is simply too difficult to make decisions. This is a transitional stage of lead-ership, sometimes referred to as laissez-faire, for things are very often left to happen as they will. It is critical for persons operating at this cy-cle to learn the skills that enable them to make decisive decisions which meet both institutional needs and the needs of the individuals in the in- Refounding Through Values stitution; otherwise there is the risk of returning to a more bureaucratic and controlling management or leadership style. God is now becoming internal and personal as a friend and lover in-stead of master and teacher. For many, this period is marked by conver-sion to a new commitment to the Faith. The development of skills in the imaginal area is needed in order to see the world more wholistically and creatively. Meditation and spiritual exercises as well as attention to one's physical health are important for growth into a world that is experienced as more complex. It is important to find a p~rticular life-sustaining value system that enables a new com-mitment to faith. The fifth cycle is the Communal/Collaborative Cycle. Individuals functioning at this cycle will experience the world as a place in which they feel they can participate by using their unique skills in a productive way, The search is now concentrated on discovering new ways to inte-grate individual abilities with the needs of society. Because of the high level of interaction at which the individual is now functioning, issues of time management become critical. Persons at this cycle begin to see the world more clearly, resulting, in an increased awareness of issues around justice and oppression. It becomes impera-tive that they have support structures such as a group of respected peers and trusted friends as well as people of the same professional status and ability with whom ideas and problems can be shared regularly. Ethical choices at this cycle are based on the personally meaningful set of values that have developed, and actions are guided by an inner con-science. Laws are respected but not considered infallible. A charismatic and democratic leadership style becomes possible, for the individual has a new sense of personal creative energy and a renewed vision of an in-stitution that can be efficient and can dignify its members as well. Be-cause leaders of this type are in high demand, issues of time manage-ment, stress, and personal health are more important than ever. God now is experienced as a personal friend and companion sharing in the new ex-pression of the gifts that are becoming a part of the individual's life ex-perience. The sixth cycle is the Mystical Cycle. When individuals are able to acquire the skills, maturity, life experience, and integrated personal de-velopment which characterize this cycle, they begin to experience the world as a revered gift they must be responsible for and with which they must creatively interact. 3611/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Ethical choices are based on an awareness of the rights of all human beings. Activities include doing those things necessary to diminish in-justices in institutions and organizations. A leader operating with the val-ues and skills of this cycle is called a Servant leader. Servant leadership is characterized by interdependence, mutual responsibility, collegiality, and creativity. Group decision making becomes a natural process, and authority is always used corporately. God is now lover, friend, and Lord of creation. Persons at this cycle experience humanity in a new, more complete way through God's eyes. Intimacy with others is a condition for intimacy with the divine and re-quires radical commitment to service and the contemplative side of one-self. This means balancing the personal experience of intimacy with con-templative solitude and obligations to work and service. Those persons who are able to achieve this high level of functioning must learn new skills, the most critical being the skills that will help them to balance their involvement in the development of just and humane in-stitutions with ample time for solitude and intimacy. It is this balance that will enable them to maintain the level of emotional, physical, men-tal, and spiritual integration necessary for being a powerful and yet posi-tive influence in the world. The seventh and last cycle is the Prophetic Cycle. The world here is viewed as a mystery for which "we" must care. "We" is used in this case as Prophetic leadership primarily expressed at a global level. It requires the collaboration of all institutions concerned with human dig-nity and justice. It is also expressed through being a member of a sup-portive community of peers who appreciate a global level of involve-ment. Global involvement assumes equal attention to local levels. Ethical choices at this cycle lead to involvement in activities de-signed to improve the balance between the world of material goods and the needs of each human being. Prophetic leadership is characterized by interdependence at an interinstitutional and global level and is concerned with global ethical issues centered in ecology, human rights, and tech-nological advancement. God is now experienced as the Lord of creation calling all people to cooperate in establishing a more just and ecologically balanced order in the world. A critical skill component of this high level of development is an awareness of the field of consciousness of all of the preceding cycles and the ability to interact with persons at each level. Spiritually, there is a new appreciation of God's Lordship over the whole creation and a reali- Refounding Through Values / 369 zation that all people are being called to cooperate with God in estab-lishing a more just and ecologically balanced order in the world. Value patterns I, II, and III are based on the perspective of the Hall value theory that holds that life is developmental. In this case time is ex-perienced as linear, moving from the past into the future. This is a help-ful way to view the values in their connection to skills as skills are learned step by step in the developmental process. In reality, however, our past and future can only be experienced in the present. Past devel-opment affects the quality of our lives in the present as do our envisioned futures. This brings us to value pattern IV, which sees life as wholistic, with past, present, and future forming the present reality. Value Pattern IV: Goals and Means Values The fourth value pattern is the combinations of Goals, which are long-term values, with Means, or short-term values. A large part of the analysis of values is concerned with this interactive, or dialectical, rela-tionship between Goals and Means. The significance of these combina-tions can be realized when one looks at the difference in the quality of the behavioral expression of different combinations of Goals and Means values. For example, when the value of Worship, a Goal value, is ex-pressed through the Means value of Institution, the behavioral conse-quence would be personal worship through institutionalized expressions such as attending Eucharist or praying the Liturgy of the Hours. When the same Goal value of Worship is expressed through the Means value of Expressiveness/Flexibility, the result may be worship through faith sharing, dance, or creative liturgy. Two people sharing the same Goal value may be at odds about how this Goal value is expressed. Likewise, persons in religious congregations, united by the same goals, may be di-vided in their opinions about the way in which these goals should be ex-pressed. Frequently, institutions have Goal values that are in keeping with the original vision on which they were founded, but have outdated Means values for reaching those goals. Understanding the Value Patterns: The Discernment Process The methodology for working with value information must be con-sistent with the nature of the values themselves. For that reason, unlike most methodologies that were designed to give reports based on factual findings, the methodology for collecting value information and analyz-ing value patterns is based on a process of discernment, a reflective proc-ess that raises questions rather than gives answers. There are several steps in the discernment process. 370 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 The first step is the collection of information. The information (I) must be high-quality information as well as statistical/financial informa-tion and (2) must be collected in a consistent manner. High-quality information is information that comes close to the pulse and heartbeat of all parts of the system. It is, in this case, value infor-mation. It is collected consistently by specialized instrumentation that uses an underlying algorithm based on the 125 values and the values the-ory. All of the information is processed by the use of the methodology of Convergence, Congruence, and Confirmation. ConVergence occurs when particular value patterns repeat themselves. The information is then checked for Congruency with what the person or persons in the institu-tion know to be true about themselves and for Confirmation in the lived reality. The Instrumentation is as follows. HT-Doc This abbreviation refers to the HalI-Tonna method of collecting in-formation from the formal documents of the institution. This may be the philosophy of the person or persons who founded the institution in which its purpose, mission, and charism are delineated as well as information contained in the rules, constitutions, or directives. By analyzing the val-ues in each paragraph of the documents, a values.profile can be obtained on the paragraphs, on each part, section, and chapter, and on the docu-ments as a whole. In addition, identified areas of interest throughout the documents--such as those dealing with leadership, charism, vows, and mission---can also be analyzed for their value content. These value pro-files are then reflected on and analyzed in terms of congruences and dis-crepancies and the significance they may have in light of internal con-sistency. The information derived from these profiles can be translated into practical applications. For example, by looking at the value patterns in the Act, Choice, and Vision areas, it is possible to see what the docu-ments are saying in terms of the Act area as related to policies and pro-cedures, the Choice area as related to management structures, and the Vision area as related to long-term goals. In a religious congregation the Vision values would define the expression of mission. The Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values The Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values is a 77-item forced-choice ques-tionnaire which raises questions relative to an individual's preferences and choices. The result of this questionnaire is a 15-to-25 page report which shows the individual's priority value choices on a developmental scale. A set of questions is raised for each cluster of value choices. The Refounding Through Values / 371 recipient of the report is then asked to respond to these questions by read-ing through them and identifying those that reflect issues of priority con-cern based on specified criteria. If desired, the Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values can be combined for specified groups of individuals in order to produce a composite profile. This is often helpful in looking at the com-bined values of a leadership team, local house, or general council for pur-poses of planning, education, or creating a corporate mission-and-philosophy statement within the boundaries of the value information ob-tained from the analysis of the documents. Another way to apply this in-formation is to look at the composite values of the entire institution and compare them with the envisioned values of the institution as expressed through its documents. The Hall-Ledig Interview Format (Interform) This is another method by which information can be collected on in-dividuals through a one-hour personal interview for the purpose of com-paring value information from the Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values with value information from the lived reality. Once the collection of information has been completed, the second step in the discernment process is reflecting on the information. The information which has been collected thr.ough one or more of the above instruments is then reflected on and analyzed. The value pat-terns which have emerged are compared with one another, convergences and discrepancies are noted, and discernment questions are raised from the composite information. It is, once again, through the process of Con-vergence, Congruence, and Confirmation that priority issues can be dis-cerned from the large amount of data collected. If more than one type of instrumentation has been used, the process repeats itself each time with questions being raised based on the internal relationship of the value clusters to one another, the relationship between different sets of value clusters, and the relationship between sets of value clusters gathered with each type of instrumentation. This brings us to the third step of the discernment process, which is acting on the information. The focal issues in the data that has been col-lected up to this point have now been identified. Each issue results in a series of discernment questions. As the questions are responded to, the plan for action begins to unfold based on the discrepancies in the infor-mation gathered with each type of instrumentation as well as discrepan-cies between the information from all of the instrumentation used. The information is then moved to action in the form of value-based policies, procedures and minimal-norm statements, leadership training, education 379/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 focus for initial and ongoing formation, and long-term strategic planning. Conclusions The Church today, like many of our institutions, is experiencing a significant crisis. On the positive side this can be seen as a call, a call to reevaluate the way in which it is moving into the future. History has introduced new concept

Issue 45.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1986. ; Vocation Ministry A Sociological View of Commitment Religious and Secular Institutes Imagination Within the Act of Faith Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1986 REvIEw FOR REI,IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at'Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW EOt~ REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, M O © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELtGIOOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1986 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of p~int~ issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major po~on of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY I0010. The Vowed Life in a Secularized World Desmond O'Donnell, O M.I. Father O'Donnell's earlier "Focused Freedom: To Someone in Formation"appeared in the issue of January/February, 1985. He is a General Councillor for his community and, though often on the road, may be addressed at its Generalate: Oblati di Maria; C.P. 9061; 00100 Roma Aurelia, Italy. ouring out a plethora of easy answers to complex questions does not bring us any closer to permanent solutions. Neither is it helpful to offer a new one-word solution for everything taking place in the Church at this time. And yet secularization might be a useful umbrella-word ~,to explain much, of what is taking place both, to the Church and to the vowed life today. If it is in fact found to be a satisfactory seminal term, it will also help us to focus rather than to diffuse our response. It can aid the process of discernment. Situating the Question The good news about our way of life is that a deep spiritual renewal is being experienced by many and that the importance of prayer is being rediscovered. There has been a notable updating in theology and real--if not always successful--attempts to build authentic faith-communities. There also is a growing freedom and practice of discernment about our apostolates and about our private lives as well. There is other news which does not' seem so obviously good, such as the large numbers who left us, the small numbers joining and the increasing median age. In some places, community life is moving towards becoming politely-shared space, enclosing many unspoken polarizations about deep realities among us. Authority has tended to go from heavy-handedness to 161 "i69/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 ¯ laissez-faire and so consensus about anything of serious communal signifi-cance is often hard to come by. Governments gradually move in to take over our institutions, either because we have chosen to let them or because they have helped themselves. The degree to which all this is related to secularization is disputable, but related it is, and I will try to show why this is so. Before we go into this, may I look at some more personal experiences of vowed people in most countries today--experiences which I think are related to secularization even more deeply than those mentioned above. Many of us have been through more or less severe vocational question-ing of some kind in recent years, because the rationale of our way Of life did not seem capable of answering the questions popping up all around us. Maybe it was triggered off by simply seeing one of our now-married novitiate companions do equally good apostolic work and do it well. It may also have been that we grew tired of mobility, or just vaguely short of motivation for the continual questioning of our chosen lifestyle. Many of us have found some new difficulties in prayer, as God seemed to withdraw and leaqe the world to evil pebple. Or maybe the emergence of so many small friendship-groups has left us out in the cold called "com-munity life." The variety of new prayer-forms and so many seminars, have a way of increasing our desire for some stability and wondering if it might not be found elsewhere, In response to'all of this, many felt the growing ambiguities and endless updating led them to personal selectivity in belief and practice. Others moved to the edge~of the storm by choosing some form of fundamentalism or an atheism' which expressed itself in mere social horizontalism while still remaining in the ~3ongregation. Some of us chose to becom~ left-wing unloving critics of the present and others moved to become right-wing uncritical lovers of the past, as the middle ground grew unpopular and became such a solitary exprience. These deeper and more personal phenomena~ are related to modernization and secularization too, as I will try to demonstrate. And so the response to these experiences, might first be to understand the meaning of modernization and the resultihg secularization-experience. Modernization The amount of knowledge in the world continues to increase because of constant research and it is rapidly diffused through very efficient communicatioh systems. Modernization is what happens when the knowledge is~ transferred into technology, which then has ~increasing and unforeseeable effects on economic growth, on social systems and on political decisidns. Inevitably the individual too is affected in his or her The Vowed Life in a Secularized World / 165 values, attitudes, beliefs and behavior. Most of us remember the discovery of plastic 'in the 40s, of the transistor in the 50s, of computers in the 60s, of microcomputers in .the 70s and now we observe technology move forward into genetic engineering in the 80s. All of these have affected people and systems in serious and often irreversibl~e ways. This march of modernization shows no signs of slowing down and often appears to have its own~self-propelled, autonomous momentum. It took one hundred twelve years for photography to go from discovery to commercial product, fifty-six for the telephone, thirty-five for the radio, fifteen for radar, twelve for television and only five for transistors to find their way from the laboratory into the market. Again, as each of these products comes on the market, it touches--and in the case of genetic engineering, tampers with human nature and human systems in often lastingly significant ways, It is with the human effects of modernity that we are concerned and these are sometime.s good, sometimes evil, and often ambiguous. Moder-nity can lead to human community and comfort,-.or to pollution and poverty for millions; it can facilitate or disrupt human values; it can enrich °a poor country or steal its unrenewable sources of energy; it can help in the diffusion of truth or of lies through the media and it can pass on productive information or child,pornography. In each of our .lives it can .make the superfluous become the convenient, ~the convenient become the necessary and the necessary become the indispensable, thus changing human nature itself. ~ Peter Berger's definition summarizes, all this: "Modernization is the transformation of the world, brought about by the technological innova-tions of the last few centuries having economic, social and political dimen-sions all immense in scope." With many otherwriters he goes on to outline the many very,personal effects resulting from the economic, social, political ones in his definition, Secularization is a very significant one of these. Secularization It is important to stress that we are not talking here about secularism which is a theory, an ideology denying the existence of God or at least his action and relevance in the world. Nor is secularization .to be equated with atheism when in fact it might be the very opposite experience for many who are desperately trying to hold on toGod who seems to be withdrawing from them. And certainly it would be simplistic to think that secularization is the same as materialism, Secularization is claimed to.be more a fact than a theory, a reality more than an ideology, a process taking place more than.a point of view. While it "i64/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 can lead to secularism, materialism, or atheism, it is in fact none of these. Some religious people find words like secularism, materialism and atheism convenient labels for what is happening in the Church or in_the vowed life today and it may be a description in some cases, but it is not addressing the deeper and more pervasive reality we call secularization. Secularization manifests itself when explanations of reality previously attributed to mythical or religious sources, are shown to have .rational ones, as when the~scientist takes over from the witch doctor, the. psychologist assumes some previously priestly functions or when a technological discovo ery,disintegrates a theological theory. A group of Animists in Java lost their gods a few years ago when a new seismographic station began to foretell and explain volcanic eruptions more accurately than the local holy man, The Diak people of Borneo lost their fear of and their belief in their forest gods when bulldozers razed the jungle. For some people, the study of a good theology of providence could have a similar effect. These people are experiencing secularization. In a similar way, many modern Christians first felt uncomfortable and then felt their faith questioned by a good church-history book, an accurate TV documentary, a skilled psychiatrist, two men on the moon, an old law proven pointless, a church authority found unworthy, a symbol disappear-ing or a culture collapsing~-all more or less the result of modernization. The resulting discomfort and questioning within the individual person, is close to the secularization-experience. It is an experience of no longer having one overall reference-point--a feeling of increasing disintegration. If you are experiencing that somehow God is withdrawing because religious explanations are increasingly less necessary, that the quantum of the secular is increasing at the expense of the sacred, that maybe~ God is now less necessary as a postulate for human living or that because of modern evidence your longheld experience of God is no longer a comfort-able one, you are probably undergoing the pressure of the secularization-experience. This is not a decisionnor even a desire to become an atheist; even if it could lead to it. Nor is it necessarily the result of "giving in" to materialism or to less-than-moral behavior, admitting, of course, that both of these can easily increase its momentum. If you are not undergoing the experience of secularization, then it is still important to uiaderstand it, because most of the peopl~ you are trying to evangelize, especially in the developed world, are probably experiencing it. It is from this fact that the present great missiological question arises--how announce the Good News of Jesus Christ to a secularized world? Moderni-zation and its result in secularization are now recognized as cultures, new cultures, ever-changing cultures and it is at this point that we recognize the The Vowed l_Jfe in a Secularized World / 165 break between faith and culture today. Thus for the modern person, secularization is a feelin~ of dissonance in .trying to hold together what is happening in the world and what the Bible seems to say about God's providence or what is often said in churches and what is taking place in real life around us. It results in discomfort with one's present experience of God. Any naive belief in the immediacy of God will be challenged .by secularization and modernity. Old fashioned god-words and some ecclesiastical jargon will appear increasingly irrelevant to sincere secularized persons everywhere. Secularization can be defined as the grad-ual disappearance of mythical and religious legitimations or explanations of society. Living with the ambiguities of the secularization-experience leads to a temptation to take refuge in fundamentalism which can be described as believing more and more in less and less in order to feel secure, or in agnosticism which is a lazy neither-nor ~land excusing one from the strug-gles, doubts and decisions which are part of any faith. Let us now try to analyze the challenge and opportunity which secularization offers the vowed life. The Vowed Life For the vowed life, secularization can be a deep call and a deep grace. Lumen Gentium calls us to enrich, challenge, encourage and stimulate the Church by our lives and our action (Par. 44). This is all the more reason why we must study, understand and give a gospel response to seculariza-tion, to a secularized world. Because secularization implies change at so many levels of human existence, we should recall that sociologists stress the vital importance of internal consistency for all groups in time of change. This internal consis-tency- our basic authenticity measured against what we claim to be--is now a matter of survival. Institutions which lack internal consistency are likdy to disappear in tim~s of rapid change, especially if their external image is also unclear. For these reasons, we who profess the vowed life must address the phenomenon and the grace of secularization. May I suggest that there are five areas where God might well be speaking to us in all this? ~ansmitting a New Integrating Presence of God Secularization, as we saw, forces us to find a new presence of God, a presence which permeates, integrates, energizes for action and which brings human and divine values into secular realities. Karl Rahner spoke of the vowed woman as having a profession which has no justification from the "166 / Review for :Religious, March-April, 1986 secular point of view even if she performs many useful secular tasks. What then might her iprofession and that of vowed men be? It is surely--as it always was--to give or rather to share with people their own experience of God. This is a demanding task; it demands that we each have such an experience first of all. We will have to pass on "so.mething which we have seen with our own eyes, that we have watched and touched with our own .hands" (1 Jn l:l'b) and it will be vital that "in Christ we speak as men of sincerity, as envoys of God and in God's presence" (2 Co 2:17), It seems to be a call to discover and lead in a new integrating mysticism as this quote from John Macquarie expresses: ¯ It is interesting to note that Bonhoeffer, though he advocated a 'worldly' Christia°nity, made it 'perfectly explicit that the kind of w0rldline~ss that he had in mind has nothing to do with the immersion in"material pursuits and enjoyments that we commonly associate with the "worldly' man. Bon-hoeffer makes a :statement that ought to be'pondered by those who invoke his support for a thoroughly secularized Christianity. He says: 'In Christ we are offered the possibility of partaking in the reality'of God and in the reality of the world, but not in the one without the other The reality of God discloses itself only by setting me entirely in the reality of the world, and when I encounter the reality of the world, it is always already sus-tained: accepted and reconciled in the reality of God.' There is a dialectic here that takes us beyond any naive world affirmation, just as it rules out any false religiosity. God,is met in the world, but the world is known in its reality only as Grd's world? Back in 1970, Karl Rahner wrote: Maybe we [he was addressing his own Society] ourselves have been super-f! cialized by the consumer society. Maybe we ourselves have not come to any original experience of God. Maybe we have not taken .the .trouble to let others participate in the mystical technique leading.to such an expe-rience. If all that is the case, we have of course, no alternative but to take refuge in a secular horizontalism which tries to interpret and live our own lives on the same level . The coming thing is the spiritual dimension, the experience of God, the taste of eternity no matte~ how valid our social involvement (with ~regard to which we have a terrible'lot to make up). The coming thing is sober peace, in face of all the absurdity of existence, the absurdity which no social involvement will spirit away. That rather bour-geois- chequered spirituality which was found--to outward appearances at least--in the orders before the first world war and which influenced reli-gious life too much~ may belong to the past and the young may say rightly that it is useless.from the start. But a new spirituality in religious life and in the Church will be assured of a real future. Whatever form this new spirituality will have, it must surely~be a very 7he Vowed life in a Secularized Worm personal "faith in the Son of God who loved me and who sacrificed himself for my sake" (Ga 2:20) and a very integrating one, enabling us to "bring everything together~ under Christ" (Ep 1:10). This--it seemsto me--is the most serious challenge which secularization puts to vowed communities today. Integration Through Reflection As we saw, one of the deepest effects of secularization is disintegration. There is no longer any one overarching human legitimation for the think-ing person today. We, even as vowed people, stand and struggle side by side with the modem person in loneliness, doubts, fears' and feelings of disinte-gration. We too are among the "new poor." The third world is closer to us than we think; it is inside our shirts especially if we have already chosen the still greater poverty of fundamentalism with iis moral, dogmatic and spirit-ual naivet6 and ~elitism. We are, however, expected to .stand with our fellow Christians in seren-ity and in a "peace which the world cannot give" (Jfi 14:27). We stand with them in a spirit of confidence too, as Jesus did with his disciples, when for him and for them everything seemed lost; "I have told you all this so that you may find peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but be brave; I have overcome the world" (Jn 16:23). Only a life of prayer can discover and sustain this peace, this joy in the midst of a secularizing experience. Jesus led a busy life and had constant calls on his service, but we find the source of his power in the actual physical withdrawal, to be with God: "His reputation continued to grow and large crowds would gather to hear him and to have their sickness cured but ~he would always go away to some place to be alone and pray" (Lk 15:16). The form of prayer for today would seem to be what Macquarie calls "prayer as thinking";5 it is a prayer.which reflects on what God is doing in the world more than on what he,has done in scriptural times, without of course neglecting this latter. It is a praye~: which keeps our spiritual faculties alive. All reality, especially fast-changing or disintegrated reality~ is opaque and this is especially true in the m6dern world when ambiguity is part of life everywhere. We need to sharpen our spiritual eyesight to see what Bonhoffer described as the "holy depths" of.things and events. It is not so much a prayer "giving us time to refuel, but a prayer'which gives us increased awareness for better and deeper involvement and which motivates us for the human task of offering the world salvation from '~'everything that oppresses the.human person especially sin and the .evil one" (EN n. 9). Lest we ourselves succumb to the burnout of compulsive activity or the dropout of ceaseless seminars this life of "prayer as thinking" 1611/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 seems essential. . A long time ago, Christopher Dawson observed: "Men today are divided between those who have kept their spiritual roots and lost their contact with the existing order of society, and those who have preserved their social contacts and lost their spiritual roots." Could this be a descrip-tion of vowed persons today? Relativization of All Reality ~ I read somewhere that the Talmud says we will be held accountable to God for all the legitimate pleasures we have not enjoyed. When all this is said and dqne, there still remains the fact that so many of life's legitimate-- or even essential--pleasures are denied millions today, in even our devel-oped world. There also stands the fact that "we have not here a lasting city" (Heb 1:3:14) ahd that we possess only the certaintY of Christian hope: "We have a sure hope and the promise of an inheritance that can never be spoilt or soiled and never fade away because it is being kept for you in the heavens" (1 P 3:4). One part of our mission is to keep.Christian hope clearly before people and thus relativize reality, both good and evil. Secularization or not, the human person has a tendency to appropriate goods, material and spiritual, to hold them closely and even to be possessed by them. Our lives if they are lived in the simplicity and detachment which we .profess, will relativize the enjoyment or deprivation of material things and remind others that t.hey are to be shared: "Warn those who are rich in this world's goods, that they are not to look down on other people and not to set their hopes on money which is untrustworthy but on God, who out of his riches, gives us all that we need for our happiness. Tell them that they are to do good and be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share"(l Tm 6:17,18). We can do this "telling" by our lifestyle, before we do it in words, the opportunity for which may never come our way. We also speak to the poor enabling them to relativize their desire for justice and to recall that while they struggle for their rights, there isan opportunity for growth in their poverty too. "Listen, my dear brothers, it was those who are poor accord, ing to the world that God chose to be rich in faith and to be heirs to the kingdom which he promised to those who love him" (Jm 2:5). Modernization has created so many who are enduring forced celibacy through broken marriages or infidelity and who are still avalanched by the media's sexual imperative. We can support these people even without speaking, because our lives experience the same yearnings and our minds are exposed to the same urgings and yet we struggle successfully on, with-out the assurance of genital involvement. But all this depends on our Vowed ~'fe in a Secularized World / 169 manifesting balanced and happy personalities, as people who have inte-grated their relationships and their sexuality in a healthy way. For secular-ized persons--many of whom suffer from confused psychosexuality--we can be supportive signs of survival and of fulfilled happiness through our lived celibacy. Individualism is a mark of the secularized person, coming very often as it does from hurt, insecurity and alienation. This can be so in our own communities too. The insecure person lives ambivalently between a desire to be accepted through cooperation and a fear of being dominated by submission. This is part of the disintegrating experience of modern life. If alienation is the pathology of our age, individualism is one of its clearest manifestations. By our vow of obedience lived out and seen not as "doing what one is told" but as discernment of what is best leadership in and through a caring community, we have much to say to the modern person about finding his or her own best expression of self in a confused world. It is even humanly true that "none of us is as wise as all of us." The secularized person, tempted to extreme individualism needs to rediscover this; for the good of ¯ families, local groups and for national and international survival, o Process.and Pilgrimage , It is clear that we vowed people will not be on the edge of the human experience of secularization and its consequential feeling of disintegration much longer. We share with men and women everywhere their search for stability and for lost certainties as the river of secularization tries to move all of us up, down and forward. To an extent, we found ourselves insulated from the human condition until recently, but no longer. Even if it were. not through necessity, we know that if we are to hold conversation with and to evangelize the world, we must pitch our tents within it; as God did. We must be prepared to pilgrimage our way once again and enter into the human process which we'should never have deserted. The fact that we accept this, will help so many others who find it difficult and who drop out into drugs or other forms of anomie and despair. Again, our vows lived authentically prepare us for the pilgrimage, ready us to keep moving, because we have publicly professed not to hold on, not to settle and not to be held. By our lived poverty, we refuse to be possessed by any material consideration and by our vows of chastity we also refuse to be possessed by ahy relationship. Obedience enables us to keep listening and looking at the map of moving events with eyes of faith and lbve. To quote Karl Rahner again from the same article: "The concrete future of Christianity, the Church and religious life remains largely hidden 17{I / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 from us . what historical and social form the Church and ecclesial Christianity will take in the future, remains largely hidden from us., we have to fight for victory without.a prognosis of victory" (p. 136). He was not° referring tothe effects of secularization at that time, but what he wrote is truer than ever now, and it puts us side by side and hopefully hand in hand with the modern man or woman as they endure the sec-ularization- experience. Interdependence and Involvement Our communities are not islands of isolated peace in a troubled uni-verse. No, they are sources from which we. emerge to makea more human and so a more godly world. Our vows enable us to do this; having freed us from, they also free usforLin a liberating way. ~',~ Our vow of poverty truly lived, makes us free for involvement. Because we have nothing to lose, we can carry the struggle for justice .further and when our lives are skilled in dispossession, we are not open to criticism from the rich~whose lives we question for the sake of the poor. Our good news for the poor has to be in some way perceived as bad news for the rich and they will readily point to any beam or bank account in our own lives if these are obvious. Only 'by relinquishing the power of possessions .can we demonstrate our competence to communicate freedom. Our vow of chastity makes us free to keep moving and to freely ask even our close friends: "Do you want to go away too?" (Jn 6:67). Again, we can take risks which married people with concern for their,families and for each other cannot be asked to take. Obedience, as we saw, offers us a freedom to live out a ,radar-like listening to God's word in the world around us. Truth comes only with listening :and discernment and these take. place best among a group of sharing people~ Obedience is .a public statement, that we bind ourselves to listen within and are missioned by a community through its leaders. This offers a model~for others to do the same in the Church. The quality of relationships and of concern for anyone at a distance suffers greatly in this time of disintegrative secularization, as each one looks to his or her own very personal success or survival. Nations do the same. This di-ama is, played out on a smaller scale every day in the average city too. Surely our communities have something important to say to people in this bleak situation. In our public interaction with one another° and for those who visit our communities,.the prayer ot~Jesus for his whole Church must tend towards .fulfillment: "_May they all be one, Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (.In 17:21). The Vowed Life in a Secularized Worm / 1.71 In' conclusion, I submit that we are approaching the ideal today, as we find the vowed life standing less at a point of comfortable distance from the world and more at a point of painful dialectic with it. At this point it must be ready to say a confirming yes or a challenging no--and do this by its life and activity--to all the results of secularization. To quote .the Anglican writer, Macquarie again: Here it must be said with regret that the trouble with some of our less responsible contemporary Christian secularizers is that they have taken up the ideal of holy worldliness, but seem to have promptly forgotten the adjective and reduced the ideal to a worldly concern tout court. They tell us that Christianity is a purely secular movement, their ideal of the good life seems scarcely distinguishable from the one that is so assiduously propagated by Madison Avenue, and the more extreme among them, in their horror at any supposed 'withdrawal' from the world, come near to advocating that the time has arrived to replace "poverty, chastity, and obedience with affluence, promiscuity, and autonomy as the highest goals for human life, or even as (he new evangelical counsels! The s!ogan for all this'is that w'e sho.uld 'say yes' to the world. But I do not think thata simple world affirmatioa will either help us to find God in the world or help the world to know his presence.6 - ~ Indeed, if we are to follow the words of Lumen Gentium, Chapter VI, par 44, the vowed life must say yes and no even to the Church itself. NOTES ~Facing Up to Moflernity, New York: Basic Books, 1977, 2John Macquarie, New Directions in Theology Today, Vol. III, p. 67, Philadelphia: 1981. 3"The Future of Religious Life" in Supplement to Doctrine and Life, Dublin: Domini-can l%_blications, May, 1972. 4The Greek' word anakephalasiosastai~is used in secular literature to express the con-ceptof many different ideas being subsumed under one theme. 5John Macquarie, Paths in Spirituality, Chapter 3, SCM Press, 1980, 6Op tit 2, p. 66. Vocation Ministry: Continuing the Invitation of Jesus Thomas E. Clark, ES.C. Brother Clark, Associate Vocation Director for the Chicago Province of the Christian Brothers, sees his work to be very much a ministry. This article is based on a presenta-tion he gave to the faculties of his congregation's schools in the Chicago area. He may be addressed at his .office: 200 De La Salle Drive; Romeoville, lllinois 60441. y ~vork 'as a full'time vocation minister for my community has often given me the opportunity to speak with young people, both individually and in groups, about the experience of being called by the Lord. My message to them is nearly identical to that of hundreds of other vocation ministers: each of us is called by God, each of us has a vocation, and it is up to each of us to discover what that vocation is. Onthe surface, the message seems clear, theologically sound, and understandable. However, what I have become aware of recently is th~at, in the two years I have been deliver-ing the message that each of us is called, the feeling with which I have been delivering that message has sometimes left something to be desired. Rather than offering a challenge to the young people with whbm I speak--a ch~allenge to discover a meaningful and significant way of living the Gospel ¯ in today's world--I've often felt that I am offering instead an apology for the choices I have made. It is as though the challenge of the Gospel might be just a little too naive for today's world, and to invite anyone to take it seriously may seem foolish and unrealistic. And even more foolish might be the invitation of young people to consider religious life and Church ministry as real options for themselves, ways of living out the Gospel challenge. I would certainly be out of touch with reality, I sometimes feel,-if I were to think that these people sitting in front of me--healthy, normal, 172 Vocation Ministry American young adults might consider religious life and Church ministry as serious-options for themselves. Thus when I speak with them, my invitation is sometimes clouded over with justifications ("I'm here today simply to make you aware of some choices I've made"), or sprinkled with "escape clauses" ("Any career you choose can be ministry"). The'underlying message, of course, is "I don't really expect you to consider any of these things for yourself." (In citing the above examples, of justification and "escape clauses," I do not mean to imply that there is no place in vocation ministry for "awareness education" or for a broad understanding of minis-try and community. On the contrary, these two approaches are essential to vocation ministry. They do not, however, constitute the whole of vocation ministry, and are sometimes used to avoid its more challenging aspect: that of invitation.) In speaking with a number of religious who are involved in vocation ministry, I have discovered that they, too, have much the same experience at times. Put simply, there are times when I do not believe there are any people who would be open to considering religious life as an option for themselves. Such an attitude is easily communicated to others, though it may not be directly stated,'and has the effect of turning away anyone who may consider religious life as a personal option. Further, a religious who holds such an attitude could never extend a confident and joyful invitation to an individual to consider religious life. It is my belief that such an attitude will keep religious not just from extending invitations to people to consider religious life, but on a deeper and more fundamental level, will keep us from fulfilling the responsibility we have to call people to build the kingdom of God. It is this invitation to the kingdom which is at the heart of vocation ministry, and which I wish to explore in more detail. In doing so, I shall consider several related topics: the model of invitation which Jesus gives us in the Gospels; vocation ministry as a means of living out that model; the philosophy of vocation ministry which has emerged in recent years; and finally, the challenge which we religious have been given in regard to vocation ministry. Jesus: Model of Invitation A simple perusal of the Gospels will show that Jesus had no hesitation about inviting peopl~ to follow him. His invitations are clear and concise. There is no misunderstanding what he means; the challenge is laid out on the table and nothing is hidden: Come after me and I will make you fishers of men (Mr 5:19). Follow me (Mr 9:9). Come and see (Jn 1:39). 1"/4/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 While such invitations may have been disarming or even~ unne ,rying to his listeners, it is difficult to imagine their being misunderstood. Jesus .has asked someone'to be his follower; it is as simple as that. ~ Neither does Jesus fail to make known to his followers his expe~ctations of them. In fact, his~requirements are so clear that~ sometimes they sound almost harsh. Whoever wishes to be my follower must deny his very self, thke Up his° '~ cross each day, and follow in my steps. Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will save it (Lk 9:23-24). ~.Let the dead bury their dead; come away and proclaim the kingdom of God (Lk 9:60). The requirements of following Jesus are great. He knows this, and does not hide this frown those whom he invites. At the same time, the invitation is issued with a certain excitement stemming from urgency of the call as well as its promise: Tliis is the tim~ of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Refo~-m ~our lives and believe in the Gospel! (Mk 1":5). Go a~d sell what you have and give to the poor; you will then have treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me (Mk 10:21). This last invitation of Jesus was issued in response to the question of the rich young man, "What must I do to share in everlasting life?" (Mk 10".17). An.d it is here that we find out why Jesus issues the invitation t[iat he does: He knows everlasting life, and wants to share that with us. Again and again, Jesus promises us the kingdom and all that goes with it: fullness of life (Jn 10:10); complete joy (Jn 17:13); knowledge of th~ true God (Jn 17:3); the freedom of the truth (Jn 8:32); his own peace (Jn 14:27); the hundredfold and ~verlasting life (Mk 10:30). Jesus knows the k.ingdom and the gifts of the kingdom, and wants that experience for those to whom he has been sent. Herein we find the motivation behind his in~vitation, his c~all to take up the cross, [o sell all our possessions, to follow him. It is becaus~ he knows it will lead to the kingdom and everlasting lye,, arid he wants nothing less for us. It is love which has produced the clear, concise and even harsh invitation we find in the Gospel. With what kind of response .did Jesus' invitation meet? The Gospels sl~ow us pictures of every kind of response imaginable: Peter and Andrew "abandoned their nets and became his followers," as did James and John (Mt 4:20-22); Matthew left his post as tax collec~tor (Mt 9:9). The rich young man went away sad because of his many possessions (Mk 10:22). In a particularl~ poignant episode ~ecorded in John's gospel, Jesus' teaching leads many of his disciples to protest and ultimately to break away from his company. On seeing this, Jesus asks the Twelve if they, too, will leave him. Vocation Ministry / 175 Peter responds, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words :of eternal life" (Jn 6:60 ff.). Thus, the responses to Jesus' invitations are many and varied, for Jesus always allowed the individual to respond freely. What is evident, however, is that Jesus never stopped inviting, no matter what kind of response he met with. For Jesus, the important thing is that everyone be invited to follow him and to proclaim the kingdom. Negative responses, while disheartening, must not keep one from continuing to:issue the call, for all people deserve the opportunity to respond to the call. It is a matter of no :smalLsignificance, I believe, that the final words of Jesus in John's gospel are: "Follow me" (Jn 21:22). Continuing the Invitation: Vocation Ministry What does this never-ending invitation mean for us religio.us? What does it tell us, not only about our own response to Jesus' call, but about the mess-age we takb to the ~vorld? We have noted that Jesus' invitation flows from his expe~rience. He knows the Father, and the life that the Father gives~ Be.cause he knows, he Can ~nvite clearly, concisely and with authority. As men and women who have made life choices for the kingdom, and who have shared, at least in part, in the life of the kingdom, we too can invite others to embrace th~ kingdom. As men and women who have clearly chosen community and. ministry in the Church, we can invite others to conside~ community and ministry in the Chhrch as optionsfor.themselves. As men and women who have experieficed joy and. peace and life in these choices, as well as hardship and even pain, we can invite with the same confidence of Jesus, for we, too, know the burden and the gifts of the kingdom. In fact, Oot only can we continue to issue the invitation of Jesus, but in a certain sense, we have a responsibility to issue that invitation. !n a world where nuclear holocaust seems imminent, where starvation is the daily experience of millions, where poverty, unemployment and illiteracy a.re the lifestyle of whole ~egments of the world population.---in such a world, we who have been given the knowledge of the kingdom have a responsibility to call others to build that kingdom. In a world where people, especially young people, are searching for meaning and significance in their lives, where many live in confusion caused by crises of every kind, where whole societies are caught in the race for economic and political superiority--in such a world, we who have been promised the everlasting life of the kingdom have a responsibility to share that gift with this world. It is not that we .are holier o.r wiser than the rest of the world. Rather, we have been given the gift ~of a vision of how things can be. It is not our vision; it is God's vision that we have been given. And because we have 176/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 been given the vision, we must also bear theresponsibility--sometimes the burdgnsome responsibility--of calling others to God's vision. As religious, we have publicly proclaimed with joy and faith our desire to be a part of the kingdom, and that desire has been accepted joyfully by God. Now we must set ourselves to the task of inviting others, with our lives, to the ultimate meaning and significance which God's vision, the vision of the Kingdom, holds for the world. In the course of this lived invitation, we, like Jesus, must invite others clearly, concisely and directly to join us in bringing about God's vision for the world. We have the responsibility to say to people: "Sell all you have, give to the poor, and come away to proclaim the kingdom of God!" We must invite those with whom we work and pray and live to "Come and see" what we have seen. Like Jesus, our invitation will have authority if its motivation is love and its roots are found in our lived experien.ce. Thus, if we have found the meaning and significance of the kingdom in our religious commitment, in our community life, and in our ministry, then we must invlte others to that same experience. If religious life has been the context of God's kingdom for us, then we must invite others to consider that same context for themselves. We cannot deny others the opportunity that is ours, the gift we have been given in religious life. I believe that not to make others aware of this gift, not to speak of God's vision for us, and most importantly, not to invite others to consider this gift for themselves would constitute such a denial. I believe that vocation ministry if you will, the ministry of invitation and discovery--can be a powerful means of carrying on the invitation of Jesus. A Philosophy of ¥ootion Ministry Vocation ministry has emerged in recent years as a valid and accepted ministry in the ~Church. This emergence is due in large part to a new u~nderstanding of vocation ministry, an understanding which has its foun-dation in the model of 'invitation which Jesus provides in the Gospel. Unfortunateiy, this approach to vocation ministry is not' understood by many religious, and consequently keeps them from supporting the voca-tion efforts of their communities, and even more importantly, from involv-ing themselves in these efforts. As we have seen, vocation ministry, when considered as a ministry of invitation, is modeled by Jesus. But such an understanding of vocation ministry is relatively new. There was ~ time in the not too distant past (and which still e~xists today in some circles) when vocation ministry was consi-dered to be "recruitment," and the person who did this work was known as the "recruiter." This designation was appropriate at the time, for the person Vocation Ministry / 177 who served as a recruiter for a religious community attempted to find and enlist people, especially young peol~le, who seemed suitable for her or his particular community. The religious recruiter was searching for people to carry onthe work--the good work---of her or. his congregation. The job of the religious recruiter was similar to that of recruiters for the military, for schools or for corporations: namely, to ensure the continuance of the group's interests. The beneficiary of this process was the group and in 'the case of the religious recruiter, the beneficiary was her or his community and the people the community served. The term "recruitment" and the philosophy ~vhich it designates does not fit what Jesus does in the Gospels when he invites people to follow him. I believe that as the work of "recruitment" becomes more and more pat-terned after the model of invitation which Jesus provides, we need to call it by another name. It is at this point that we can begin to speak of "vocation ministry." The difference in language is reflective of the difference in philos-ophy and practice. It is, in fact, the difference between "recruitment and ministry," and it is shown in a new role for the person who does this work. This role is no longer one of serving primarily the needs of the congrega-tion, but is one of serving the needs of the people with whom the vocation minister works directly, the people whom she or he assists in discovering how and where and with whom the Lord calls them to build the kingdom. The priorities of the vocation minister have changed, from a focus on ensuring that the life of her or his congregation continues by enlisting people into the order, to a focus on ensuring that people discover who it is that God calls them to be. The agenda from which the vocation minister works has changed, from being primarily the order's agenda, to being primarily God's agenda. To some, such differentiation rhay seem too subtle to be of any impor-tance; .it may even seem like hairsplitting or word games. I believe, how-ever, that it is not too subtle, nor is =it hairsplitting, nor is it word games. For when looked at from the perspective of the person attempting to discern God's call, and especially the young person faced with fife-choices to make, there is a world of difference between the recruiter who wants that person to be a sister or brother or priest, and the minister who wants to help that person discover where God calls him or her to build the kingdom, where life will hold the most meaning for him or her, with no preconceived notion of where that might be. I contend further that, when considered from God's perspective, there is an ~ven more profound difference between "recruitment" and "ministry." It is the difference between the recruiter who believes that the continuance of her or his congregation is in the recruiter's hands, and that it is up to the recruiter to supply the needs of the order; and 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 the minister.who trusts that God callg people to build his kingdom as sisters,, brothers, priests, married people and single people, and belieVes that her or his role is to act as Jesus did in inviting people to listen for God's .call and to act on it. Such a stand places the responsibility for supplying the needs of the order in God's hands, and~ recognizes the responsibility of the vocation minister and° the members of the congrega-tion to act as instruments-of his call by issuing the invitation to the kingdom. ~ Vocation ministry, and not recruitment, is the responsibility of every religious. It is a responsibility which stems not from fear for the future of religious life, but rather from the fact that each of us has been given a great and wonderful gift in religious life, a gift which must be shared with others. Our invitation to religious life is given in the context of the kingdom: because we have known the kingdom in our life and ministry with one another, we'invite others to that same experience. It is not recruitment for a particular order that vocation ministry is about; it is an invitation to nothing less than the kingdom of God that we,. as religious, must be about. The Challenge to Re!igious When vocation ministry is seen not as recruitment but as a ministry whose foundation is the model of invitation, which Jesus himself offers, an entirely new challenge is given to .religious. It is a challenge which brings about a n.ew set of questions: --Have I ~experien~ed the kingdom of"God? Where and with. whom was that experience~of the kingdom ? --Is the experience of living in religious community and doing Church ministry an experience of the kingdom for me? --Do I sense both the responsibility and the desire to share the king-dom with others by inviting them to build the kingdom? -~Am I willing to invite others to consider religious community and Church ministry as a way of building the kingdom, a way which has been life-giving and Satisfying for me? I believe that we religious can continue to invite others to join us i~n community and m~nistry. Some Of those whom we invite will join us; others will find another flay of building the. kingdom; still others~will go away sad. But vhatever the response, we can continue to invite, secure in the knowl-keidngged otmha~t,, tion wouhric rhe lwigei oinuvs i~teo mthmosiet mwehnotm, w we eh maveee tb. eOenu rg iinvveinta"ati osnh ai'sr.em iont it-he vated not by fear of the fu(ure, but rather by a sincere desire to share the gift we have been given, With joy ~and confidence we can coniinue to spe~k the invitation of Jesus: "Come away and proclaim the kingdom of God!" Gentle Exile: Reflections on Formation Mary Ellen Dougherty~ S.S.N.D. After a long stint in formation work for her community, Sister Dougherty has returned to the teaching of English. Sh.e may be addressed at The College of Notre Dame of Maryland; 4701 N. Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. Shortly.before I finished a long term in formation work, I told myself that eventually I would write an article that might be of use to others in that ministry. I waited. I needed distance. After a year or so, subjectivity settled into uncertainty. I did not know what I wanted to say. Now, more than four years later, I think 1 do. ~ Initially, I would have commented on the characteristics of candidates currently interested in religious life, the inevitable challenges in dealing with them, and the necessity of both structure and latitude in a formation program. I would have talked about the generosity of young people in ministry, their ambivalence about vows. Now, however, I would like to focus on formation, personnel. 1 address my remarks especially to those who are in the work, and to those who .are considering it as ministry. In more than.eight ye~ars in this ministry, I worked, directly, in various team arrangements, with eight different directors. As director of novices, I participated, with the novices, in intercommunity programs in which directors shared on a regular basis. I speak, then, out of my own experience, and out of some ongoing reflections with at least two dozen directors, men and women. And I speak, still, tentatively. These are my insights now. In many ways I was nbt an effective director. In some ways I was. I have learned from both. I do not think there is a standard profile for a successful director~ There are countless variations on virtues that could be 179 1110/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 considered. Certainly a consistent attitude and practice of prayer, along with a keen mind and a clean heart, are essential. Inner freedom issuing from a clear depth of uncluttered spirituality is central. It is not my intention, however, to explore these here. That, perhaps, is another article. I would like, instead, to address three fundamental areas which, in practice, prove t.o be crucial: experience, affectivity, and integrity. Experience Age, I think, is only a factor for the director insofar as it permits experience. What one has done is not necessarily what one has experienced. To receive experiences of poverty, failure, darkness, in the light of grace, balanced with experiences of fulfillment and productivity, requires time; one must have lived long enough and well enough to know the inevitability of the rhythm, to expect the seasons to change. In that sense, age is important. It is not just what one has experienced, but what one has not experienced that should be consid~reff. One who has been given the time to live as well as the time to die, and has learned to receive both with equanimity, has lived long enough. And one who has not, should not be expected to deal with her own discoveries easily in the context of formation work. Events may always surprise us; the curr~nt of life should not. Affectivity I am not professionally equipped in terms of academic background t6 talk about the psychology of affectivity, or stages of affective development. My observations are purely practical: when the affective or relational life of a director is undeveloped or undernourished, there are generall~ relational problems with those she is directing; these are Often lodged in some variation of dependency, usually mutual. The director, from my observa-tions, usually takes the relationship more seriously, in the long run, than the candidate; the director seems to have some expectations of permanence, whereas the candidate, especially if she is young, is more than likely to tr~insfer her emotions rather quickly. There often is, however, some degree of mutual destruction. It is essential, 'then, that formation directors have the capacity for, and the activity of, peer relationships, that over the years they demonstrate an ability to interact in friendship with inutuality and absence of unwarranted dependency. The demands of formation work are constant and draining, especially if the director is living ~vith her directees. Candidates, especially younger ones, often exhibit a love-hate response toward authority. Unless the director has a belief in her own lovableness, created by a deep personal sense of God, and the experience of significant peer relationships over the years, she can be quickly undone. So can those Gentle Exile / 1111 she directs. Oia the other hand, a director who has a variety of relationships, and who is secure in at least a few of them, is not likely to need her directees. She may, over the months or the years, develop some friendships among them, but these will be a matter of choice, not of necessity. Integrity, Given a person who has lived long enough and loved hard enough, we come to the point of integrity, which I use in a limited sense here. I speak only of that dimension of integrity which enables one to experience some independent clarity about the truth, and to be faithful to it in spite of opposition. It is not my intention to suggest moral judgments. Like many people in positions of authority, formation directors must be able, if necessary, to stand alone. They must be capable of making and living out graced decisions which may create great conflict. And they must be as capable of independent thinking as, they are of consultation. A director who is not comfortable thinking for herself, who relies too heavily on approval and too little, on her own graced instincts, is usually transparent to her directees; wittingly or unwittingly, they may use her. While the need for dialogue, for collaboration, for consensus cannot be overstated, neither can the need for slow, clear, independent decisions that begin in the deepest level of self, where, in the face of opposition, integrity, a matter of grace, becomes a manifestation of courage. When all is said and done, it is fidelity (or infidelity) to the graced self with whom one must live. There is nothing new under the sun. The ability to receive experience and to let it become wisdom; the calbacity to love and to be loved without ownership; the self-possession and the faith to risk a gentle (or not so gentle) exile--these are characteristic of any authority who claims Jesus as her source. If formation work is anything, it is daily. If anyone needs Jesus as her source, a formation director does. Working with the Young Adult with Temporary Vows Vito Aresto, EM. S._ Brother Aresto is Vice Provincial and .Director of Formation for,the Poughkeepsie (NY) Province of the Marist Brothers. Heohas been ,working with brothers under temporary profession for more than six years. He may be addressed at his Vice-Pro-vincial Office: 4200 W. l i5th Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Much has been written over the last several years about_the conditions and problems of the yoeng adult within formation programs of, religious life. Since many of the young people who come seeking this new lifestyle come after years 9f college or work experience, formation directors are finding that the traditionally tried and true methods, of formation~seem to contain significant gaps when dealing with this new kind of person. The problem becomes even more complicated when the young person is in t~emporary vows. In this paper I would like to delve into some of the significant areas that have emerged in my working with our temporary professed. For the most part they are young men who have achieved rather comfortable recogni-tion professionally. They have taken their first vows in their middle twen-ties and look forward to years of growth and service within religious life. Final profession comes somewhere around age thirty. Developmental psychology has examined this period of growth young adulthood with great earnestness. Clearly, it is being recggnized that as life develops it confronts, struggles, and tackles successive issues in life's fabric and resolves them only to move forward to confront still newer issues towards growth. Such progress is noted as maturation, growing in one's potential, developing into a full human person. ~Vorking with the Young Adult . When the issues of spirituality are overlayed upon this rich process, we begin to see something of the concept of conversion. Obviously, when one begins to probe conversion, there is a point where even the best of the social sciences"pales before the mystery of faith: But nonetheless, we can learn much about growth and developmenL particularly in the struggles of a young adult who is attempting to find his or her place within a religious .family. This unfolding of life's grandeur and mystery is not at all easy. It can never be pain free if it is authentic. For the formation personnel working with young religious a good grasp of this process is obviously needed. Crisis needs to be viewed as part of the human drama, and neither .overstated nor underplayed. Rather the formation director can be a calming influence for~ individuals as they probe the' issues and unravel a course of action. In this light it is also very important to note that the director ~should be very comfortable with assisting the young adult to tap into such helping services as therapy or spiritual direction. It is important to realize that the varying issues which emerge are not all vocational conflicts. Rather some very necessary growing-pain situations may be interpreted as "vocational,' which in actual fact are merely struggles with growth issues. At other times personal,life issues may be confused as stress issues needing therapy, but are deeply vocational. Finally, there may be.a blend of both. It is the task of the formatioh director .as calming influence to help the young person wade through the issues, and recognize where they lie. In naming the dil~.~a, the course.to resolution becomes less threatening. For most young religious the transition from novitiate life to active ministry carries with it some straining adjustments. There is a great differ, ence between accepting the need to integrate the essential elements of reli-gious life and actually attempting to do so. This strain to interpret and realize the ideal can either bring about growth in young persons, or have them develop a selective sense which, ma~y in the long run distort growth. Each person must face honestly that the balance of the essential elements of the religious life structure cannot be merely put aside for some personal notion of the greater good. In the long run true growth for the young religious only takes place in confronting each aspect of vowed life as important, and then developing a proper rhythm for themselves. Fidelity to their vowed commitment must be presented as their primary work, By doing this they will be realistic in discerning this lifestyle within their congregation and how it truly fits into their own needs ~ind response to the Lord and his people. This approach, one that asks young persons not to compromise any aspect of their vowed commitment, even when faced with the tremendous 11t4 / Review for Religi~ous, March.April, 1986 pressures of the varying adjustments of prayer, community and apostolate, is utterly honest in recognizing and treating religious as adults. The fact remains that as they unravel their dreams and expectationsi they must also be totally immersed in what actually is the life they now share in their new religious family. This task can become even more burdensome as the young religious begin to recognize and feel the depth of confusion, and even sinfulness within their chosen religious family. Yet, within this sobering reality one fundamental task for.the temporary professed religious is to come to real-ize whether their dreams can be honestly integrated within this particular congregation. If this cannot be done then an honest and courageous act would be to depart. The Lord is not asking anyone to surrender his or her dreams, nor is he asking the impossible in great and massive adjustments to what a person holds sacred to the purpose and direction in life. It becomes the task of the formation director to help and accompany the young religious in this discerning process. But the director should never water down or compromise in the name of charity what he or she knows are realities incompatible to the values and goals of the congregation. Furthermore, the director must a.lways make the distinction between fidel-ity to a lifestyle and fidelity to the Lord. The young must come to realize that commitment to Jesus as their Lord can be lived in all the genuine forms and calls to holiness within the Church. Hopefully, the novitiate process has solidly grounded these young persons in their commitment to Jesus. Temporary vows must focus on the parameters of this particular religious family and charism as one valid and true means towards holiness for this young religious. Therefore, a truly respectful and, honest relationship must exist between the formation direc-tor and the young religious so that.real growth and integrity can develop. It is of paramount importance then, that the young,~religious' dreams must be found to be possible in the congregation they have chosen to enter. This is not only vitally important for the growth and development of the young religious, it is also vital for the growth and development of the congregation. The life given to this young religious by God is also a gift of life for all the members of the congregation. When such interaction is in process a certain sense of peace and purpose prevail. When it is. not present one readily begins to sense and hear bitterness, sarcasm, and resentment., Understanding the vital need of a dream in a young religious' life must therefore be one of the important areas into which a director must examine and explore. The novitiate will set up ideals that are solidly grounded in spiritual and scriptural foundations, but these ideals will not be realized except in the attempt at the actual riving out of community within, a local Working with the Young Adult / 1115 setting. It must be realized that each local community is itself struggling to unravel the full meaning and purpose of its shared life direction. Although young religious may leave the novitiate in full recognition that life is a process of growth and integration, it will only be in the experience of community that they will begin to understand the journey with their broth-ers or sisters that they have begun. Therefore, understanding the dreams and also knowing deeply the real struggles of this religious family is a task that each formation director must grasp when dealing with temporary professed. Ultimately, the focus must be turned completely on the Lord. He must remain the very purpose and intention of the young religious. Service will only .spring from the well of deep commitment to the Lord who loved all people even, unto death. More times than not, the young religious' grasp of the importance of intimacy is also wrapped up in their understanding of their dream. They do not enter religious life accepting the fact that there will be little or no intimate relationships in their lives. Obviously, religious life does afford the opportunities for a rich relational life; but that can only come through the struggle of integrating the vows in the light of each one's intimate relational needs. For young religious who must deal with this issue through the maze of the various transitional periods of growth, the very issue of intimacy can become pivotal to successful integration, and thus to peace within this chosen lifestyle. The movement towards dealing with one's~relational life also has impli-cations for community and ministerial life. In community this can expand one's depth of compassion, and in ministry it can help focus one's work beyond the notion of career to an expression of the Lord's service con-tinued through his Church. Each step of this awareness will heighten the young religious' recognition that he or she has truly been called by Another. Gradually imprinted upon the life and work of each young reli-gious is the paschal ,mystery, each one's transformation into Christ. The weathering of growth issues can therefore be the seed for a deepening of vocational understanding that is not only personal but intimate with the Lord. As young religious move closer to their thirtieth year there is to be noted a very subtle but careful evaluation taking place. Some significant issues have emerged and been confronted. The young religious also begin to recognize.that all the aspects of their dreams and aspirations may not be completely realized. They begin to feel, and not merely know, the implica-tions of being chaste and obedient. The cultural values of their society, with its push towards success, ambition, and recognition weigh on their poverty. Ultimately, as final commitment approaches, so does the trauma of the 186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 "second calling." It is at this moment that the formation director must gently accompany~the young religious. The time for mentofing has ended. It becomes important that unconditional acceptance pervade the whole relationship, If the journey through those years of temporary vows has been honest and rich in successful and mature handling of life issues, then the response to this second calling--a permanent commitment to the Lord within this congregation--will~ be made with the totality possible to this young adult. Fundamentally, as one accompanies young adults~through their initial years of religious commitment, one quickly realizes that formation is.lrela-tional growth. The young religious come eager to respond to the Lord~. Their response has been wrapped and colored within their dreams of Ltheir future life and ministry. Novitiate naturally assists in a solid grounding and underpinning, but it°is not until there is full immersion in the daily routine of life in common and in ministry that they begin to confront and grow within their religious commitment. For the formation director the journey of this pilgrimage is one of trust and love. Ultimately, the individual must come to a sense of'personal peace. This peace is only born in the honest relational growth between each individual and the Lord, between the individual and his or her brothers or sisters, and the individual and the people they are sent to work with and serve. This peace should become the full flowering of a love that rests solidly on the motivation and direction of a life-decision made to the Lord and his people, within this special band of disciples that he or she chose for a religious family. '~ Reflectively, we can turn to Jesus as the model for the formation director who works' with young adults. Particularly is this so if we. focus upon his dealings with Peter. Here we note the care and compassion that must be evidenced by the director. For three years Jesus guided, taught and challenged Peter. These lessons werenot ~beyond the scope of correction and prodding, but they were also done in sincere and tender cbncern. And yet when the supreme :momefit for Jesus arrived, his hour of glory, Peter was still unaware of the magnitude of Jesus' mission. Much like the novice who enters first profession, Peter needed to continue to grow and ~be challenged, even in the darkness of near despair. It was not until the depth of his relationship with the Lord was securely grounded that Peter was ready to shepherd. Only then did he fully comprehend the-initial call that was repeated in the marvelous second calling at the end of John's gospel, "Do you love me? . Come, follow me!" Strangely enough in that rich relational bond between Peter and the Lord did his fondest dreams become rei~l. He no longer needed~io hold Working with the Young Adult / 187 tightly to privilege or rank. Now he no longer saw himself as solely the "rock," but rather could he challenge all that he shepherded to be "living stones," part of the "edifice" of the Lord and his Church. He understood clearly all that was needed to continue the process of growth, a journey into wholeness and holiness. For the young religious the journey is similar. The director must guide and accompany them so that the echo of the initial call of the Lord can be profoundly realized and incorporated into the very identity and dreams of these young persons. Permanent commitment becomes a full expression of a relationship that is central to their meaning and purpose. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by" ~Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on .,the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cru~ciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review ~or Religious Rm 428 ~3601 Lindell Blvd. St: Louis, Missouri 63108 Commitment in a Religious Order: A Sociological View Joseph C. Doyle Dr. Doyle teaches at Seton Hall University (South Orange Ave; South Orange, Neff Jersey 07079), where he may be addressed. There is a special quality about people who are committed to something, whether it be to another person, a group, an organization, a career, or an idea. That quality can be captured by such words as "loyalty," "allegiance," or "steadfastness." For to be committed is to be involved in a relationship which has priority in one's life over alternative relationships or only one-self. This does not mean that a person's other involvements are ignored bu.t only that when push comes to shove this relationship has singular importance. Obviously, this is a key feature of religious life, for the purpose of religious orders is to foster growth in each member's commitment to Christ. In fact, it has often been assumed, both by people within and without such institutions, that this is the sole ~ocus of the members' ~om-mitments-- that they "have the faith." In the past fifteen years or so, how-ever, the large scale exodus of members from the various forms of religious life has raised serious questions in many quarters concerning this one dimensional view of religious commitment. In particular, such authors as ~Marie Augusta Neal,~ Helen Ebaugh,2 Lucinda San Giovanni,3 Richard Schoenhern and Andrew Greeley,4 and Patricia Wittberg5 have all attemp-ted to shed a social scientific light on some of these questions. This paper is meant to be a reflection on some themes developed out of this tradition. It will attempt to present the results of some findings gleaned 188 Commitment in a Religious Order / 1119 from interviews with twenty women involved in a religious order in the eastern United States. Its major interest will be the way commitment in religious life passes through different forms, forms which seem to be affected by the kinds oof structures established by religious orders and by the way their members respond to these structures. It is, of course, danger-ous to generalize from a group 6f this size. Thus, the following remarks should be read as an'effort to explore some pertinent issues in the quality of commitment rhther than to offer a definitive statement on these issues. I. Sociology and Commitment Because this paper relies upon insights developed in sociology, perhaps it would be helpful to first briefly explain some key sociological ideas concerning commitment before delving into the material from the in/er-views. Over the past thirty years or so, sociology has developed a number of concepts for dealing with the experience of commitment. By and large, these ideas are rooted in the perspective that c6mrnitment is the result of certain ,mechanisms operating in groups or organizations that mold indi-viduals into loyal members. Thus; the primary attention is on how these social factors operate to produce a committed person. One of the more prominent efforts in this field can be found in the work of Rosabeth Kanter, particularly in her book Commitment and Community.6 While the analysis that follows utilizes these insights, it also attempts to show how individual members of a religious order responded to these forces and tried to grow beyond them. Kanter views commitment in terms of three interrelated dimensions: instrumental, affe.ctive.and moral. In addition, each of these dimensions is the result of a set of factors bY which a community leads its novices into full membership. By instrumental commitment Kanter means a felt attachment to a social role that is more rewarding or less costly than the roles outside of the community. In this kind of commitment the person wants to live up to the behavioral expectations that others in the community have of him or her. This attachm~ent is achieved, according to Kanter, by having the novice undergo experiences ,whereby the individual has to invest her time and energy in doing the work of the community and to sacrifice her own possessions on behalf of the community. In this way the person finds himself or herself wanting to remain because of all that has been expended ¯ in the effort to achieve full membership. As Kanter puts it: When profits and costs are considered, participants find the cost of leaving the system would be greater than the cost of remaining; "profit," in a net psychic sense, compels continual part;_cipation.7 190/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 By affective commitment Kanter means an attachment to a set of relationships whose ties are more gratifying than the ties with .alternative relationships. To find a particular,~set of relatio, nships more gratifying than others means recognizing that set as the,primary source of. affection and support in one's life. This dimension is realized by having novice members renounc6 all previous ties of affection as being primary for them and by involving them in communal activities with members of th~eir group. In these ways the new participant comes to develop emotional ties with these others and a cohesive bond develops amongst them. Finally, by moral or normative commitment'Kanter means an alle-giance to the values and norms of the community and a willingness to obey the authority structure of the community as the ultimate interpreter of those norms and .values. However, this allegiance doesonot necessarily develop after a careful evaluation of these norms and structures. Instead, Kanter sees this dimension arising from a set of beliefs and values that have been internalized in an often irrational or unc_ritical way. In Some respects, commitment to norms and values resembles the concept of superego, which binds the evaluative components bf the self t6 norms of a system through an internalized authority.8 The moral commitment of members is achieved, Kanter notes, by techniques that encourage novices to'deny significance to their own ideas and desires and to place their trust more in the community than 'in them-selves. Thus, new members come to see the way of life of the coinmunity as more meaningful than that of competing alternatives. This sociological view of commitment may, at first sight, be rather upsetting to people who form a community in order "to ddepen their rela-~ tionship with God. '-I Would suggest that this reaction is a rather well-founded one. For what sociology has uncovered, and what many of the" religious women 1 interviewed realized after being in their order for a few years, is that there can be a very real difference between commitment to God and commitment to a religious organization. For this latter institution attempts to offer its members a way to God, but lhis "way" is embodied in historically realized rules, procedures;practices and customs that can often become ends in themselves in the minds and hearts of these members. The sociological point, of course, is that a religiouscommunity hasto empha-size these aspects if it is going to survive and so it has to foster commitment to them. Naturally, a religious institution hopes that its" members will develop spiritually by such practices, and many have done so. Nevertheless, as the' following analysis will show, the danger can also be that the corn= mitment does not get beyond these dimensions. How that can'happen and what can be done about it are the concerns of the rest of this paper. Commitment in a Religious Order / "191 II. A Sociology of Commitment in Religious Life A. Internalizing a Theme ~ The model of commitment presented by Kanter can be a useful tool for interpreting the experiences of the twenty women I interviewed. While these women all came from the same order, they varied as far as age (32-63), length of time in the order (9 years to over 40 years), and the kind of positions they held at the time of the interview (teaching, pastoral and the central administration of the order). Nevertheless, they all described their early years in religious life in ways that can b~e captured by Kanter's categories. 1: Internalizing the Instrumental Dimension One of the interesting findings of these interviews was that many of the nuns felt that the years taken up by their training were preoccupied with the proper performance of their duties, with what they called "the externals." In Kanter's terminology they were committed to the role of a religious person. She claims that it is possible for a person just to behave in a committed way, i:e., remain in the group but not necessarily care about the ideals or values of that group.9 While she'herself did not think that this was a full commitment, she did seeit as a possibility. When the nrns were asked about significant changes in their lives, one of the events frequently brought up was when they recognized that they had been caught up in the mere activity of being a nun. For example: when I came to religious hfe I switched to the externals because that is what I thought I was supposed to do and that was what was always talked about., how you dressed, how you performed this and how you did your chores, but I wasn't co~mfortable with that. When we first entered, the activities were important as you grow into being a member of the community. I think at some point you get caught up in the reception of the habit., that is a big day in your life., and you try to act like the pdrfect nun and" that sort of thing. ~ In addition to acting out the role of a reli~gious woman, many of the respondents reported recognizing, a period in their lives when their minis-try, or more pr.ecisel3~, their work, was mrre important to them than any other dimension. Years ago, I guess I was work-oriented and it was the thing that people saw. And the thing I could let go of was my prayer life because no one ever saw that and I wasn't accountable for it. I cou.ld go to confession and say I didn't haeditate that week and that wruld t~ike care of the guilt part. But I never made ~ny cofinectionJwith the rest of iny life. 192 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 As these quotes indicate, the focus on minist.ry and on the proper fulfillment of the "externals" of the religious role were the dimensions to which most of these women became initially committed. ,And, for some of these sisters, the ministry remained central for them well beyond the period of their training. However, while this was a key feature of religious life for many of these women, they eventually began to question the validity of this preoccupa-tion, and for some this orientation is no longer dominant in their lives. 2. Internalizing the Affective Dimension Kanter's second type of commitment was also evident at an early stage of the nun's training. For some of these women, this. involvement in community life coincided with their involvement in ministry. What did you think you were committing yourself to at that~time? I thought I was committing myself to ministry and to community life but not to a deep personal prayer life. I was still struggling with thaIt t.r.i.e. d to take time for it but more often than not, that got pushed aside. What was there about ministry and community life that made you want to commit yourself?. I just" saw goo~d in it. I saw myself functioning very well in it, being comfortable in it, not having any kind of desire not to be there. Some of the other nuns, however, found that a focus on community followed, in time, a commitment to ministry, and sometimes the tension between ministry and community would be resolved in favor of community¯ , ¯. I consider myselfa community-minded person; for whatever reason, ~ prefer working within the community., like coming to the infirmary and working right here with our sisters. I was more than happy todo that. I didn't find myself looking to go really outside of the community. (I. Why was that~ Well, I guess in that it's doing for my own sisters, primarily, rather than people on the outside¯ You are doing the same kind of thing but for whatever reason my preference would be my sisters first. Thus, while ministry may be seen as rewarding, by itself it does not suffice. For this woman and for others, it was and still is a matter of the emotional bond one has with the group with whom she rhinisters that is crucial. Where ministry can be judged in terms of rewards and costs, more non-rational considerations have to be used to judge the relationships one has with others. However, ~s was seen in the discussion of instrumental commitment, this affective dimension did not r6main as dominant for all the nuns. As the following quote suggests, this orientation is no longer as crucial as it once was. Commitment in a Religious Order / 1~ ¯ I really don't know how we remained faithful then. I'm sure if it was another type of community, I don't know, maybe it's because we're more of a family, you know, we feel for one another, um, and that was always our sister, and if you didn't hang in there because your superiors were no good, you'd hang in there because your friends were there. Your commitment to them kind of seemed important to you. 3. Internalizing the Normative Dimension Finally, the third of Kanter's types of commitment was also a focus of allegiance for most of the women during their training. This is particularly obvious in the way many of them had accepted the authority of their superiors during that period. ¯. 1 never felt pressured or stepped on or however people fed. I never felt that. I guess as I entered community it was something I wanted to do. or the Lord called me to do, so I did what I was supposed to do . However, while there were nuns who were very compliant, some found themselves questioning the purpose behind some of the orders. For them, willing obedience was built on an obedience motivated by a fear of being dismissed. Were there people in your class who questioned a lot? Yes, they are no longer here. In novitiate I was very docile. I was probably stupid. If they told me tO do it, I did it because if you didn't do it, they were going to send you home. ~. So you did it out of fear more than anything else. Yes. Yet I liked the days of formation and everything else, but if they said do it, I did it; and when we did it and thought it was crazy, we Used to laugh about it, but we still did it.°, there was no heart in it or anything like that, but we did it to shut them up and get them off our backs. Whether this emphasis on atithority and obedience was complied with willingly or out of fear, it had a dual effect in the training period: it seemed to focus attention on role conformity or the "externals," as was seen before, and it created a sense of dependency on the leadership of the community in many of these women. But in the minds of some Of the nuns, this would often translate into valuing obedience to the rules 'over the needs encountered in one's ministry. Let's say the mother of one of the children was pregnant and her husband had just kicked her in the stomach and kicked her downstairs, and she came to me after ~chool, as did happen once, and when I tried to share with her and show her a little sympathy, I got in trouble because I stayed over in school even though it was that type of thing. I didn't mind getting into trouble, but ! just couldn't understand that whole thing. And in those 1~ / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1986 days, if she came again, I would probably say "I can't see you," thinking that obedience was the greater thing at that time~ While some of the evidence suggests that many of the nuns interpreted this dependency on authority as something they have left'behind, this is not so for all of them. Even with the much publicized changes in convent life, with the "loosening up of the structures," the importance of the normative dimension of commitment still comes through for many of them. As this following quote demonstrates, however, it is internalized dependency: The change that has been significant has been in the individual being responsible for he~'self. We still have in our community superiors in our local convents. However~ the emphasis has been on individuals being responsible for themselves, for the cbmmitment that they have made, for' living according to the rules and the constitution, for keeping the vows . B. l/ariations on a Theme . ~ Hopefully, the preceding exploration has shown that the women I interviewed responded to the demands made upon them in their formation years in the convent .in ways that the order wanted them to respond. In effect, they internalized the theme of religious life espoused by their order. This, of course, is not to pass judgment on the sincerity of intention of any of these women or on the integrity of those tesponsible~for their training. It is instead to recognize what most of these sisters have realized and what Kanter's model of commitment can help us to see: religious commitment is more than simply doing religious things. When attention is concentrated on the activity of being religious without an ~ffort at helpi~ng the novice to discern the place of these activities in an overall lifestyle, then the only result will be religious conformity and a commitment to the means established to realize a life in Christ rather than to that life itself. However, as many of the above quotes intimated, the story of the commitments of these women does not end in mere conformity. Most of the nuns found that by the time of their final vows or in the five years or so after final profession, t.hey had begun the process of perso~nalizing many of the practices they had learned. This effort at personalization took one of two forms: varying the order's style of religious life to meet o~ne's own personality and characteristics, or creating a style of religious life that was in keeping with the core values of that lii~ but no longer was solely modeled on their order's particular historical interpretation of those values. I would now like to explore the first of the~e responses which I will call "variant commitments." In the third pai't of this paper, I will examine the second form.- The term "variant commitment", refers to a more reflective response to 'Commitment in a Religious Order the demands of convent life than the conformist response did. The idea for it comes from another sociologist named Robert Merton.~0 Writing in a different context (but, nevertheless, in one that is still applicable to our purposes), Merton referred to people who were sensitive to the demands of their institutions but were willing to test some of the limits of those demands. He had in mind men of science like Pasteur or Einstein who were committed to the goals of science but who engaged in the kind of research that resulted in new ways of conceiving the world around us. In a similar way, many of the nuns I interviewed were very much committed t9 the goals of their order, but they were also involved in efforts to alter its style of religious living. Where their training had taught them to exhibit routine adaptations to the expectations of the order, they later became more willing to modify these demands while still remaining within the normative character of the community. By briefly looking at some examples of these variant responses in the light of Kanter's model, it will. be possible to show concretely the kind of changes that took place in these women, 1. Variations on the Instrumental Theme It will be recalled that in this dimension of commitment members involved themselves in the performance of those activities that hdped maintain the community as an ongoing entity. In religious life, one of the more important of these role expectations was a faithful participation in the liturgy. For sisters in training the ordinary round of prayer activities became part of the behavior of the "ideal" nun. By the time of final vows, these activities had become second nature to them. Following the Second Vatican Council, however, the order began to loosen its rather rigid structure, and local convents wer9 allowed to establish their own format for commu.nal prayers. This usually involved a group decision concerning the times to be set aside, as well as the particular style the prayer activities would take. In addition, there was also the expectation that individual sisters would develop their own schedul~ and forms for their personal prayer life. Thus, new regulations were made which allowed for more decentralized variation and individual freedom in fulfillment of the order's goal to develop prayerful sisters. The result of these reforms appears to be a more conscious involvement on the part of most of the nuns in this dimension of their lives: The .emphasis, I think, in the younger days was not on my personal religious or spiritual development, as much as it is now., the job is important but the prayer part of it is more important. Ifa decision was to be made that I would have to give up my prayer life to be an 1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 administrator, I think I would give up the administrator part. I'm sure years ago I couldn't have said that. I'm going into my fifth year here, and I was very nervous coming here because I had heard about their prayer life~ But it's really been good. It's more spontaneous than at other places. Like we do the reading of the day, and then we share with each other what they are saying to us or one of us will give a homily. As these quotes indicate, within the overall values of communal and personal prayer, the nuns have sought to fashion attitudes and practices that reflect a more conscious appreciation for these features than was true in their earlier days. This consciousness in some cases was an attitudinal shift, such as the rededication of oneself to a life of prayer;'or in other instances, it was a greater willingness to participate in a variation of public prayer that had not been tried before. In'both examples though, a shift to a more reflective response is evident, and this allows for personal and local variations of a communal expectation. 2. Variations on the Affective Theme The second area of religious life to which most of the nuns can be said to have been reflectively responding is the communal dimension. On both a formal and an informal basis, it is expected that the members will participate in the affairs and functions of the community and that this group will be primary in each person's life. In the period before the Vatican Council, these expectations usually meant a high degree of uniformity among the order's members. In the years following the Council, they frequently have involved rather innovative attempts to develop a greater sense of camaraderie among local community members. This can be seen in the following instances which suggest a changing vision of the meaning of community and a willingness to put into actual practice what some have only been able to dream about. What is your vision of community? I would like it more personal, um, with small groups where there is sharing not only of your work but of your basic spirituality, your vision, and maybe with people that you could work it out with so that your vision could: become a reality. I think the great disillusionment with religious life is that your vision remains a vision and there's not too many to share that vision. We were pioneers. My first year in grad school and after that we lived in a convent and commuted to school. We used to pray together and just try to share our lives. We could do creative things like alternative prayer styles and a lot of sharing about community and about the Lord. Commitment in a Religious Order Of course, not all the women in the group were as originally so enthusiastic about this new style, as the above excerpts may suggest. Nevertheless, those who have tried it have overcome their initial restraint and now see it'as a more beneficial way of living than the older style. Once again, a relaxation of rather rigid structures has allowed for a greater amount of reflective expression and thus for the introduction of alternative approaches to a goal of the order. 3. l/'ariations on the Normative Theme The final dimension that exhibits the effects of a more reflective response to religious life concerns the commitment to the norms and values of the community. According to Kanter this commitment is demonstrated in the supportive attitudes members have toward those in authority and toward the ideology of the group. One of the areas in convent life where an important shift in this dimension has occurred is in the vow of obedience. In the days when the nuns I interviewed first entered and until quite recently, obedience to the "Will of God" meant, in fact, concrete submis-sion to what the s,uperiors interpreted what that "Will" was. Today, this submissiveness, while still expected on a daily practical level, is somewhat tempered by the recognition, in their order's rule, that all the sisters share a genuine responsibility for th6 goals of the community. This basically seems to mean that the individu~il sisters are left alone to freely do what is expected of them rather than have a local superior enforcing each of the rules. Naturally, such a situ~ttion leaves room for individual variation, both attitudinally ahd behaviorally. I guess my attitude is that this is not somebody or something imposing on me, or the constitution saying I have to do it, or I feel that my superior is going to say that you are not doing this or that. There are days, for exahaple, when I don't spend much time in prayer at all for one reason ~or another, because it's ministry, or I'm getting in at midnight and I can't function the next day. But ifI don't do it for a couple of days, I know it and I really.have to say, I have todo it tonight regardless of what else turns up, so that it becomes a priority. I think it puts more responsibility on the individuals for their own lives. Ten years ago the superior was saying no, you may not go. I think it places more responsibility on the individual not to maybe abuse missing prayers or Mass or house meetings or meals . . . there is a little more freedom and people are more relaxed . , . to be more responsible for themselves. As these quotes indicate, members are freer to interpret when a particu-lar rule should be obeyed and when it should not. Of course, this does not i911 ] Review for Religious, March.April, 1986 mean that they can or would do whatever they please with no sense of normative .obligation, Thus, the conscious choice on the part ~of~the member is to decide when there are legitimate exceptions to a given rule and toact on those exceptions. In the long run, however, the orientation of the nuns is to the normative expectations of the order. - ~ C. Creating a Theme Hopefully, the previous section has shown that the story of the com-mitments of the twenty women I interviewed took a new turn in the years after their final vows. Because of the changes in the formal structures of the order, these nuns were able to move from a rather conformist-oriented appioach to religio.us life to an approach that reflected more of each individual's perso~nality and needs. However, while this newer style was more personalistic than before, it still was within the definition of religious life as formulated by the order. Thus, it is still possible for members to be committed to the instrumental, affective, and moral dimensions of their community (albeit, in their contemporary forms) rather than to the com-munity's underlying purpose, i.e., to one's life in Christ. Of course, as I indicated earlier, this is not necessarily in all instances what has happened. Instead, it is to point out a continual danger in community life, a d[inger that some of the nuns themselves have recognized: structured behavior and attitudes, even when they are loosened up, can become a substitute for personal responsibility for the purpose of those structures. This danger and a potential way to avoid it can be captured more clearly by examining the second type of reflective response that the women I interviewed exhibited. Nine of the twenty nuns responded to the ques-tions I raised in a way that was somewhat different from the others. I have called this type of response "creative commitment." By this I mean a commitment to a notion of religious life that reflected the women's struggle with an appropriation of a set of ideals and interpretations that trans-cended the institutionalized approach in which they found themselves. This did not mean an outright rejection of their community. Rather, it was an attempt to combine themes learned from sources outside the order with the basic values learned from the community into a more personal style of sisterhood than the one in which they had been trained. Their involvement in the community, is now no longer predicated on the constraints the institution can bring to bear on them. Instead, since their commitment is to a vision~of what religious life can be, they have relativized the role that the community has in their lives. This rather abstract definition can be made more.concre[e by compar-ing some of the "variant responses" some of the nuns made to the questions Commitment in a Religious Order / 199 I asked with the "creative responses" nine of the women mad~ to the same questions. As before, these responses can be presented in terms of the model developed by Kanter. I. Relativizing Instrumental Commitment The first dimension of concern will be the attitudes of the nuns toward the role of a sister. In order to ascertain the overall quality of a member's role involvement in the order, I asked what perception each one had of herself as a sister. As the following quote exemplifies, many of the~s.e women have adopted the role of a nun as traditionally defined, ~that is, as one who is supposed to represent in a special way the presence of the sacred in human life. To be sure, they do not appear to be caught up with the prestige symbols of the role--the habit, the title, the little signs of respect. But they dowish to see themselves perceived as religious women, as part of a religio, us organization, and in this sense, the institutional role is important to them. How do you see yourself as a sister? That's hard to answer. I guess. I am living out what I think I am called to be, but I am not just living it for me. but for other people~ Do you mean what effect you have on people? ¯. Yes, like when people ask me to pray for them or for members of their families. I'm not just some fixture or some teacher. Do I convey the o message of Christ to people? Do I carry the name of (order's name) well, and what that community is about, or do I downgrade the community? In comparison with this perception, the following nun appears to dis-tinguish herself and her role as. a sister. While being a nun is important to her, it is not her whole self. This type of perception cropped up °quite often in discussions with these nine women. In effect, the role has been redefined from being a place in an overall organization to being a vehicle for allowing a more personal style of religious life to be expressed. What that,style is depends upon the individual and how she understands herself; but in general, it seems to encompass an effort to live out the central values of Christianity as these are being interpreted by contemporary thinkers. This woman's notion that "sisterhood" includes her relationships with whom-ever she meets is an indication of this redefining process. when I first came to the community, I saw a sister as functional, whereas now I see sister as a relationship that is not only to the people that I work with but it is. much more universal in a sense. It is me as I relate to whoever it may be . It's much more a sense of I am who I am and a good part of who I am happens to be a sister and what lproject is all of me, the totality of life. 200/ Review for Religious, March,April, 1986 2. Relativizing Affective Commitment The second area of discussion deals with the emotional ties members develop toward the relationships they have in the order and toward the order as a whole. The quality of these ties can be captured by the reaction of members to questions concerning the possibility of the order disbanding. While this is an admittedly hypothetical situation, the reactions of the sisters revealed their attitudes towards the community as a whole. For example, as the following citation suggests, many of the sisters see their well-being as tied up with the well-being of the order.~ Because they tend to seetheir lives as coextensive With the life of the community, these women can be said to~ have Committed themselves to the institution. What would happen if your community died? I would be very sad. As a person I think it would be devastating. I guess the charisma of the (order's name) community is important to me. I chose to belong to a group, and this group meant something to me. for whatever reason they became important. I chose to make final vows, and I chose to make it something permanent in my life. When this response is compared with the following one, however, a different understanding of this relationship is revealed. According to this woman, the institution exists to serve a need; and if it no longer can do this, then the nuns should disband and find other communities. This willingness to let go of what must be a home for this woman suggests a degree of autonomy that was also present in the other more innovative nuns. But this autonomy should not be interpreted as a cold independence from the order for-it seems to rest, for each of these women, on a distinction they have made between tbeir particular order and their understanding of religious life in general. In their interpretation of the order, it exists as a means to realize their religious ideals. Thus, religious life is always broader than the order's way of approaching it and for them it is their approach to that life that counts. I don't know exactly. I don't know if I would; then I would look and see if another group would like to get together to form something else, or if I would join another group. I don't think I would be upset. I wouldn't feel that my whole life has gone because I think what this community has done UP to this point has been very good and very worthwhile, and if it is not necessary, it's not necessary. I don't feel any urge to prolong somethin~g that is no longer necessary, so that would not bother me. Another indicator of the relativization of the order in the lives of these women is their willingness to look beyond it for sources of emotional support. While they.were in training, the community encouraged them to develop their personal relationships with their fellow members by severely Commitment in a Religious Order limiting outside contacts, even with members of their own families. Although these nine women still have deep personal ties within their order, they have also consciously developed friendships with others outside of that community, including laypeople. A couple of them have also become part ofqocal communities that are made up of nuns from bther orders instead of the more traditional, homogeneous units. Most of my really close friends have left the community., but it's not quite as dramatic as it sounds because I do have a couple of very good friends who have been very supporting, one who is married who has always supported me. Then. one who I'm even closer to who was in the community who has left. She continues to be one of the most supportive people in my life. It's fine with her that I am here; ~nd it's fine with me that she is there. How many friends do you have outside the community? I'd say that it's probably about fifty-fifty between people within the com-munity and people outside that I really consider myself close to. Four of us broke off from that larger grou.p because we are for'a simpler lifestyle, and we are now living in a house., the three of us from our order, one happens to. be the school person, and two of us who are in .other ministries and then the fourth sister who is from (another order) who is also in another ministry. That's working out pretty well now. 3.' Relativizing Normative Commitment ~ The third area deals with the willingness on the part of members to allow the community to control their lives. Over the past fifteen years or so, the order has loosened up its authority structure somewhat so that now the nuns are encouraged to speak their minds more so than they were in ~he past. Nevertheless, the ultimate expectations for many of the women is .that it is their duty to obey the wish of the superior. As this example demon-. strates, the notion that "the voice of the superior is the voice of God" dies hard. My attitude towards religious life, I don't think, has basically changed in the sense that I still fed that my superiors, those who are in charge, whatever they would ask I would accept it in the same wa~y I did years ago. I would question now, not saying that I wouldn't.do what they asked, but I would question it now. While the above quote demonstrates an attitude toward obedience that can be characterized as superior-oriented, the next citation reveals another approach to this subject. Instead of first looking to what the superior wants, this nun believes that one should first be obedient to oneself. The distinction is crucial for it places the sister on a par with her superior.and 902/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 enables her to exercise genuine responsibility for her own life. This is probably the most important characteristic of the innovative nuns because it seems to be that which distinguishes them most clearly from the others. Although these others often spoke about the necessity of being self-respon-sible, their 6rientation very frequently was to the community and their superiors. On the other hand~ the innovative nuns more frequently were willing to look beyond the institution for grappling with the issues of religious life and to examine any ideas in terms of where they might fit into their own lives, I believe in obedience to the Lord in tune with what is going on with my own inner' feelings, as contrasted to what I may believe in terms of the' voice 6f the superior although I don't deny that. I think you have to listen ¯. but I would say I would be more in tune with obedience to God; I would say that it's a little more,obedience to myself than I would say obedience to the vow or to the superior. Interestingly enough, one of the ways in which these women have sought to take responsibility for themselves is precisely in the area of the vows. One of the features that comes across very clearly is their desire to distinguish their understanding of the vows from the institutionalized ver-sion. This does not seem to mean an idiosyncratic interpretation of them that is divorced from what other approaches, even institutionalized ones, may offer. Instead, it seems to involve an effort to formulate a conception of the vows that takes into consideration what others,may say; but at the same time, ~it-attempts to create out of ,them an understanding that responds to the personal needs and goals of the individual herself. It should be pointed out that by the term "other interpretations" is meant sources of meaning outside the order, including the general culture, contemporary sourcbs' within the order, as well as the more traditional interpretations, whether they come from formal or informal sources. What seems to be crucial, .in any event, is the consciousness of these sisters of the difference between saying what others have understood what the vows mean and saying ,what they personally think they mean. I took these vows, but I thought. I'm doing my job, I'm praying, so don't b~ther me about the vows . !~ow looking back, I probably detached the vows from the life, or I said I have to take these vows in order to live this religious community life that I want to live. Now what's it like? ~ Now it's thinking about it and reflecting on it and saying there is some-thing more to this and I don't know what it is yet . I could tell you what ~ so and so says and what the books say, but personally., what do I think, Commitment in a R~ligious Order that's what I'm coming to. When you started to reexamine the vows, did you find yourself coming to a personal interpretation of them, or did you sifnply accept the given interpretation? Oh no! I made my own interpretation, and whether that's right or wrong, it's something l'm going to have to live with. No, I think it's my own personal thing . I have been attempting to distinguish creative responses to institutional demands from variant responses to these same demands. Hopefully, this has clarified the difference between the two. If 1 have been interpreting this material accurately, then a commitment can be said to be creative when the individual personally recognizes the primacy of her relationship with God in her life. That happens, it seems, as the individual assumes greater and greater responsibility for that relationship and the role of the order becomes more secondary as far as that relationship is concerned. In other words, the institution becomes a vehicle whereby a person can live out a way of life that she has created. As the following sistei~ asserted in ~ rather straightforward fashion, the order has become a means to an end hot arl end in itself. I say I commit myself to the Lord through this institution and I never expect that I will break that commitment to t~he Lord. I am not .always saying that 1 make a commitment to an institution: (I. Why no~t~ R. It's just the medium for me. Conclusions I ~began this paper by remarking that religious 9ommitment is often understood in a one dimensional way, as simply a commitment to Christ. Utilizing the insights of sociology, however, it is now possible.to see that religious commitment is a multi-dimensional affair which can often inter-fere with the fuller realization of a Christocentric lifestyle. For instead of a single focus on the proper spiritual characteristics of being a religious woman, this analysis found that members of an order can become more concerned about the instrumental, communal and normative dimensions of sisterhood. The result of this is a preoccupation with the means of religious life rather than its ends. Because this was a sociological analysis, it highlighted the fact that this preoccupation was, in part at least, the result of the order's necessary concern with its self-preservation. This does not mean, however, that such a preoccupation is inevitable. As the information concerning the more creative women has shown, it is also possible to relativize the impact of the " 2011 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 social requirements of communal living and to begin to achieve the under-lying purpose of religious life. But to do this requires an effort on the part of the order to become sensitive to the effects its structures have on the spiritual journey of each of its members and an effort on the part of each member to be radically honest with himself or herself about the real con-cerns which occupy one's life in a religious setting. NOTES ~Marie Augusta Neal, "The Relation Between Religious Belief and Structural Change in Religiiaus Orders: Developing an Effective Measurement," Review of Religious Research 12, 1 (Fall, 1970), pp. 2-16. 2Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1977.). 3Lucinda San Giovanni, Ex-Nuns (Ables, Norwood, New Jersey, 1978). 4Rich~ard Schoenherno and Andrew Greeley, "Role Commitment Processes and the American Catholic Priesthood," American Sociological Review 39 (1974) pp. 417-426. ~Patricia Wittberg, "Transformations in Religious Commitment" REVIEW FOR RELI- ~31OtJS, Vol. 42 No. 2 (1985), pp. 161-170. 6Rosabeth Kanter, Commitment and Community (Harvard University Press, Cam-bridge, 1972). 7Ibid, p. 69: 8lbid, p. 69. 91bid, p. 67. ~ORobert Merton, ~Social Conformity, Deviation, and Opportunity Structures: A Comment on the Contributions of Dubin and Cloward," American Sociological Review 24 (1959), pp. 177-188. Two Forms of Consecrated Life: Religious and Secular Institutes David E O'Connor, S. T. Father O'Connor holds the chair of the Department of Church Law at Washington Theological Union and resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary (9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910). His previous article in these pages was "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practical Considerations," which appeared in last year's March/April issue. Th~ 1983 Revised Code of Canon Law in, canons 573-730 designates both religious and secular institutes as Institutes of the Consecrated Life. This is a new classification in church law, In its simplicity, it is open to some misunderstanding as a juridical oversimplification because, in fact, both types of institutes are very different. This may just be another exam-ple of the limitations of all canonical categories which are not capable of fully expressing the charisms and gifts of the Spirit to the Church. While the members of both forms of~the consecrated life do profess the evangeli-cal counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, their lifestyles manifest two rather divergent forms of ecclesial dedication. The intention of this brief article is to explore some of the similarities and real differences between these two types of consecrated lives and to promote a better appreciation of the distinctiveness,~ the identity and the place each one has in the Church. Let it be stated at the outset that neither form of ecclesial dedication is presented as better or superior tO the other. While canonical religious life has been a recognized and important part of Church life for centuries, it has taken a variety of shapes and forms. Secular institutes, canonically and historically, have received ecclesial recognition only within the last fifty years and are still in the process of trying to have their uniqueness under- 205 906 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 .stood and appreciated. The new Code of Canon Law is a welcome and innovative move in this direction. It is a positive step forward in giving secular institutes the canon-ical identity and ecclesial status which they deserve. In canon 710, the new code describes a secular institute as one in which the Christian faithful living in the world strive for perfection in charity and work for the sanctifi-cation of the world, especially from within. Canon 607, §2 describes a religious institute as one in which the members, according to proper law, pronounce public vows, either.perpetual or temporary, which are to be renewed when they have lapsed, and live in common as brothers or sisters. A quick perusal of these canonical descriptions makes apparent some of the. differences between these two types of institutes. The members of secular institutes are to "live in the world" and work for its sanctification "especially from within." On the other hand, religious are to live "in com-mon as brothers or sisters" and profess "public" vows. These and other distinctive features of both forms of ecclesial dedication need to be more closely examined and elaborated upon in order to manifest the special style of consecration lived by the members of the different institutes. In order to facilitate this examination, a comparison of these two types of consecrated life has been organized under the following five headings: Secularity, Community Life, Apostolic Activity, Evangelical Counsels and Canonical Status. There will be, necessarily, some repetition involved because it is impossible to treat the distinctiveness of each institute without there being some overlapping of ideas. For example, it is not possible to consider the evangelical counsels as lived in religious institutes without considering them in the context of common life. Nor is it possible, to con-sider adequately the evangelical counsels as lived by members of secular institutes without examining them in the context of the secularity which is essential to the life of the members. I ask the reader to be patient in this matter as efforts are made to emphasize the genuine distinctiveness and special characteristics of each form of the consecrated life. Se~.ulariff. The primarY and foremost characteristic of secular institutes is that they are secular. This has been repeatedly emphasized in all the ecclesiasti-cal documents which address the nature and role of these institutes, from Provida Mater Ecclesia (February 2, 1947) and the Motu Proprio, Primo Feliciter (March 12, 1947), through the documents of Vatican II (1962-1965), especially ,Perfectae Caritatis,, 11, to the 1983 Code of Canon Law. It is "secularity" which totally colors the way oof life of the members and is the most significant characteristic of their consecrated way of life. Two Forms of Consecrated Ltfe/ 207 The members remain lay people or secular priests. They are not reli-gious ~nor are they expected to live in any manner which approximates or imitates the religious life.~ In every, sense of the term, they are to cultivate their consecrated secularity as ordinary people; living "in-the world and, as it were, from the world. "~ They should be involved in the social milieu and professional life proper to each member in the concrete circumstances of that member's place, time and culture. Indeed, members are to have a secular outlook and acknowledge themselves as "part" of the world and committed to sanctifying it from within) Hehce, the style of life of the lay members of a secular.,institu~te is that~ of a consecrated person living a rather inconspicuous and ordinary life, holding down a job or involved in a profession, while living alone or wi[h family or friends. Externally they will not appear to be different from any other lay person in a similar situation. Indeed, Pope John Paul II has encouraged them to develop their professional life and to be, at the level of Knowledge and experience, really competent in their specific field of endeavor.4 Religious, on the other hand, are required and expected by/heir own consecrated way of life to have a certain "separation from the world prpper to the character and purpose of each institute.'~ Obviously, this is expressed very differently by monastic communities and by apostolic reli-gious. Members of apostolic religious institutes frequent~ly find themselves immers~ed in the world with similar demands made upon them to have the professional competence required in their particular formJ of apostolate or ministry. Yet, at the same time, they may be more likely to think of themselves, while at the service of people and the Church,.as "being in the world, but not of it." Indeed, they are often readily identifiable as "Church-people" even if they are not wearing a habit or clerical garb. Furthermore, they often live in houses or convents associated with their ir~titutional apostolate which helps identify them as Church-workers. Thus their com-munity lifestyle and their corporate apostolate or form of ministry, in one sense, sets them apart and "separates" them from" the ordinary lifestyle of lay people. There are incarnational and eschatological dimensions" to the life of every Christian. However, it appears that the Church considers thai the incarnational should be especially clear in the Christian life of the dedicated laity and that the eschatological or transcendental should be-particularly manifested through the dedicated life of members of religious institutes. One form of the consecrated life the secular institute emphasizes the goodness of the world and of all God's creation (Gn l:3,1); the Other the religious institute emphasizes the radical discipleship of Jesus which involves some separation from or renunciation of the world (Jn 15:19). 901t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 Community Life Some form of life in common or community life has been a part of religious life from timeqmmemorial. It is a clear requirement of the new Code of Canon Law.6 Members of a religious community are to live in a house-of their own institute with their brothers or sisters and under the autl~ority of a religious superior.7 This is the place where they conduct their day-to-day life and offer their companionship and support to one another. It is the place where they gather about the eucharistic table and pray together. It is from there that apostolic religious reach out to others in a variety of ministries and dedicated ecclesial service. Therefore, some form of commu~nity life has been a perennial dimension of religious~ life and presented as an ecclesial witness of Christian love. The common life of religious does differ somewhat fro~a community to community, and is radically different for: monastic and apostolic religious. However, it is a necessary dimension of religious life and one of its special characteristics. Common life is not a part °of the consecrated life of members of secular institutes. While some institutes may have, as part of their particular tradi-tion, residences which belong to the institute, community life is not an expectation, requirement or characteristic of secular institutes in general. In fact, it has often been positively discouraged as contrary to a truly secular style of life and an unfortunate move toward the imitation of a life approp-riate to a religious institute. ~ The secular quality does not permit of community life on the part of mem-o ~rs, even as an option. It is too easy to slip from the notion of a "group" life to that of a "com.mon" life inconsistent with the personl liberty and the vari-ety of commitments which the ideal of presence in the world entails.8 The new 9od,e does not require the administrators or leaders of a secular institute to have their own residence, nor is it necessary to have a house where formation programs can be conducted.9 Members of secular i~stitutes are expected to live as ordinary lay people, either alone or with their families, or in a group as brothers and sisters.~0 Diocesan priests, who are members of a secular institute, likewise, are expected to live as the other priests in the diocese. That is, they are to live in the rectory to which they haye been assigned by their bishop. There is to be nothing unusual or exter-nally distinctive in their style of life in the world. However, as canon 716 of the code states, the members of a secular institute are urged to share actively in the institute according to their own proper law. They are to maintain a certain "communion" among them-selves arid carefully foster a unity of ~pirit and genuine relationships as brothers and sisters. The constitutions and statutes of each institute should specify how this is to be done, but should not imply that cohabitation or Two Forms of Consecrated Life / 209 any form of common life similar to that of religious is expected. It is the obligation of leaders and moderators in the institute to promo.te this spirit of unity and an active participation of the members)~ Apostolic Activity The new Code of Canon Law succinctly expresses the manner in which apostoli~ activity is to be exercised by the members o

Issue 45.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1986. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REview ~oR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by R~v~w ~oR RELiGiOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U,S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW FOIt RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1986 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I~UGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J,S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW Folt RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Our Lady of Wisdom Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. ,, Father Macdonald's "The Price of Poverty" appeared in this year's January/February issue. Last May/June saw another Marian article by Father Macdonald entitled "Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ." Father's address rdmains: St. Joseph's: Welling-ton Road: Todmorden: Lancashire OLI4 5HP: England. ~ recall being kindl~, received in a convent, but the longer I stayed there the more uncomfortable I felt, because for apparently aesthetic and liturgical reasons ~there was no room in the chapel for a statue or picttire of Our Lady. It was frankly embarrassing to pass Our Lady presiding over a hymn-board ~n the corridor outside while i was free to go into the chapel without a blush. It°made no sense. One should not exaggerate the place of Our .Lady but neither should she be underrated. So, in a generally compli-mentary book-review, the reviewer remarked that while the author rightly spol~e of devotion to Our "Lady as inseparably part of Christian life he "rather overstresses the idea of Marian m'~sticism." One wonders how he knows that, since mysticism touches levels of e~perience much of which must be left unsaid. Can anyone throw a tight ring around personal expe-rience particularly at those depths? On the day his engagement was announced, G. K. Chesterton wrote the woman he was to marry that "I think it is no exaggeration to say that I never s~iw you in my life without thinking that I underrated you the time before." t This is a superb compliment for anyone to receive, especially from a mindsas rich as Chesterton's. Clearly he saw depths in the girl 321 ~122 / Review for ReligiouMs, ~Iiy-June, 1986 unseen by her butcher or dressmaker. Lo~,e, presumably,' gave him the necessary insight: Such God-gi~en insight is needed to understand anything of Our Lady in the providen.~e of God, particularly if we accept that "insight is an attempt to think in the present a. .breakthrough requiring much intellectual d~smanthng a, nd dislocationa .c.c.ompanied by a sense of surprise., genuine perception . He who thinks that we can see the same object twice has never seen. Paradoxically, insight is knowledge at first sight." 2 This is surely borne out by experience. Father Peyramale, the parish priest of Lourdes, knew more ,of the faith than Bernadette Soub~rous, just ¯ as the superiors of the novice Catherine Labour+ had a wider experience of religiouslife than did she. NO ldoubt, too, biblical scholars in the time of Th~r'ese Martin knew more al6out Scripture than she did, but who today among the contemporaries of!those three girls could claim to approach their insights into the ways of God? Can anyone quantify their subsequent influence for God and for g~od? One spoke patois, another not 9t all publicly .u.ntil shortly before she died; while the third wrote of what she knew in three note-books onl~ because she was as.ked to. Eacti of these women's lives was illumined by a vision of Our Lady who left her distinctive mark on all three, not least in their wholly sane, understated, selfless lives. What Bernadettelsaid of herself could be said of all of them including Our Lady "When 3~ou have finished with the brush you put it behind the door"--except th~at God has other plans. Their influence widens. The risk for thee c,ontempor~ry religious might be in leaving "the brush behind the door." What has been called "chronological snobbery" can obtain here to3. The insights of the latter part of the twentieth century are assumed to be superior to thos~ of peasant, country or middle-class ,y, oung women in nineteenth~entury France. Following the sam~ ~qogic, Our Lady can be dismissed as possil inevitably~limited by her lack today, and by her geographical God is present in each life. It is tliese women are to be conside ~ly a Galilean peasant girl whose insight was of formal ~ducation,~as this is understood locafion~ That assumption should be tested. this that makes the difference and by which red. Of each of the four women it could be said: "She was a woman uprig, ht, outright." "Her will was bent at God'](G. M. Hopkins, "Margaret Clither'ow" an unfinished poeo). The strengthl,.vulnerability and powerful pulse httracting them can be felt in that last monosyllabic line. There is no need of any Cultural baggage in order to sl~are what they see. Neither the water-tables feeding the wells of Nazareth n~or the politics of nineteenth-century France m.atter. Anyone in the company of these~ women may.be drawn by what Our-l_ady of Wisdom / 323 they see, glimpsing in each cage~perhaps "the Christ-ed :beauty of her mind" (G. M. Hopkins op. cir.). They travel light. The will of God is the point: "Let it be done to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38). Perhaps we cannow consider Our Lady as a reflection of the presence of God. The Gift of Wisdom It has always been difficult to speak of the presence of God not least because a finite mind is trying to express an awareness of transcendence. One biblical, tradition which attempted this was the ~Wisdom literature (includihg Job, Proverbs, Qoheleth, Ben Sira, Wisdom and some Psalms), Beginning in cultures outside Israel as basically advice to the young man Who would make his way in the world (a "Young, Upward Mobile Man's Guide to the Galaxy" perhaps), when taken into Israel it was inevitably recast through belief in the underlying presence of God as the basis of reality. So "the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom" (Ws 9:10), that is putting God first as against the practical atheism .of the person for whom '~'there is no fear of God before his eyes" (Ps 36). From this standpoint, God's presence was seen in creation, the history of Israel and in individual lives under the guise of wisdom, latterly personified'in a. female figure. God's presence as expressed in Wisdomwas to be seen everywhere:' "She herself walks about looking for those who are worthy of.her . in every thought of theirs coming to meet the~m" (Ws,6:16-17). "Wisdom is quicker to move than any motion; she is so pure, shepervades and.perrfieates_all things. She is a breath of the power of'God . untarnished mirror of God's power, image of his goodness . Herself unchanging, she makes all things new" (Ws 7:24-27). "l resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Ws 8:2). "My counselor in prosperity, my comfort in care and sorrow. I love those who love me; those who seek me,eagerly shall find me" (Ws~9:17). Slowly to reflect on those lines is to glimpse the intimacy and reality of God's presence in a sacramental world. Such insight is a personal possession. They know of whatthey speak. So in the creation of the universe by God: "I was by his side, a master ~craftsman delighting him day by day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere in his world, delighting to be with the sons of men" (Ws 8:30-31). Such a universe, then, is no alien, monolithic force hostile to mankind but a place in which God is present, delighting to be with his creation. Experiencing life in this way, God's presence is seen as delightful, as life now obviously has meaning since it is underwritten by God. "I came forth from the mouth of the Most .High and I covered the earth like mist . Then the creator of all things instructed me . He said, 'Pitch your tent in Jacob'. I have breathed out a scent like choice myrrh. I am like a 324 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 vine putting out graceful shoots. ApprOach me you who desire me, and take your fill of my fruits, for memories of me are sweeter than honey, inheriting me is sweeter than the honeycomb. They who eat me will hunger for more., they who drink me will thirst for more. Whoever listens to me will never have to blush, whoever acts as I dictate will never sin" (Si 24:38, 13, :17, 19-30). Again, such reflection on life in the light of faith findsGod's presence everywhere awesome and mysterious, yet beautifully attractive. As the figure of Wisdom is now personified it might be dismissed as yet another imperfect image, a crutch to lean on when looking for God's presence in the mystifying world. But surely there is no need nor is it intended to imagine anything at all. This is no television commercial with a female figure ,cavorting across the screen advertising some product. The insight given by Wisdom and remember, following Abraham Heschel, that insight is to see for the first time--is so much richer and nuanced and is to be understood on another plane: Insight not eyesight, and imagination is wanted now, to see beyond and above the imagery. The gift of Wisdom is meant to give just this taste for and insight into the presence of God in every aspect of reality. God is there in every moment eager to make his presence known. Having "pitched" his tent among us, his presence is such that once tasted one can only "hunger for more." Obviously:for the Christian this. speaks of Christ in every line, particu. larly as Paul and John present him, but, traditionally this was seen too in the person of Our Lady of Wisdom. Such Wisdom writings were to be found in the liturgy of her feasts. The personified figure of Wisdom was seen in'her, and as expressed in the liturgy, the faithful were invited to delight in her as a. supreme expression of God's presence among us. Cen-turies of meditation on the Wisdom writings instinctively suggested Our Lady. It was a delightful, pleasant, accessible world combining the world of transcendence with the encouraging familiarity of a faithful mother. God's presence as reflected in her indicated that potentially there were no heights we could not scale even though our insight was at best imperfect. It was a lovely atmosphere she brought with her as she was seen among us as one of us, rejoicing in God her Savior (Lk 1:47), and we with her. Few would deny that that is less so now. The atmosphere has changed. In Catholic liturgical, literary and devotional life the lovely, wondering, ever reiidy to be surprised insight of an earlier time seems to have been replaced by the prim, puritan regimentation of an old-fashioned school-room. Instead of an ever-deepening insight needing all the resources of Wisdom literature to try and express what was felt and experienced, today one has the impression that not afew of our pastors, teachers and cate- Our Lady of Wisdom / 325 chists who occupy the commanding heights and lower slopes of everyday teaching in the Church, have seen Mary once--and seen her "plain." They might have come ashore from The Mayflower yesterday. The approach to Our Lady today reeks of the catechical-center and schoolroom. It is all reminiscent of a certain type of teacher so accurately sketched by Charles Dickens, who asked a girl who had spent her young life with horses and knew and loved them, to describe one. She was incapable of coming up with the only answer he would accept: "Quadruped. Gramini-vorous. Forty teeth~ namely twenty-four grinders, four eyeteeth, and twelve incisive. Sheds coat in the spring . Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron. Age known by marks' in mouth. Thus (and much more).''~ How many of those who flock each year to the Kentucky Derby would recog-nize that either? Though the teacher is perhaps overdrawn, it does not mean that the point is overplayed. The issue was real and perhaps still is. To present Our Lady chiefly in terms of Model Christian or Model of Believers is not wrong but deadens a relationship. To speak of anyone in such categories isolates them from the rest' of us. Models automatically distance themselves. They are to be looked up to, rarely made part of oneself. To speak principally of Our Lady in such terms is to put her on a pedestal in a most damaging way: apart from, static, of yesterday rather than today; whereas traditionally within the Catholic community she was of God and of us, truly a present inspiration as we delighted in her com-pany. So Mary, Model of the Church, while true, is of the classroom not of life. It is, too, not unfair to remark that when she is spoken of as "Woman of~Faith" or "Model of Believers," this carries strong overtones of the contemporary defeatism wherein faith, before it can~be reckoned as authentic, is laced with a strong solution of doubt. None really sees, so the best that can be done is to pool. insecurities, as even the best of us are in the dark. Our Lady, by association, is correspondingly diminished. Yet faith in biblical terms was never the vague hope that Someone might be there to make sense of life in an at times frighteningly puzzling world. Rather was it the bedrock assurance that God is there and we are real to him, even though often unfelt and unknown by us. Trust, therefore, is at the heart of the biblical reality, and on this the Jewish and Christian communities were built. The best of both communities enfleshed it. Our Lady too embodied the prophetic vocation, helping us in the task .of realizing that ~we live in the universe of His [God's] knowing, in the glory of attachment" (Jr 1:5).~ So the community enjoyed her company, welcomed her and delighted to hear anyone speak well of her. She could appeal to anyone, whether from the cachot of Bernadette, the countryside ~126 / ReviewJ'or Religious, May-June, 1986 of Catherine, :or the middle-class household of Th6r~se. Today the colors are subdued, a pale reflection of what they once were. The use of the 'W, isdom writings to express what was felt about her has given way to such warmth as there is to a winter's sunlight. Now she is almost exclusively spoken of as "Mary," and one cannot help feeling that much has been lost in the contemporary would-be organized Church that was freely available to everyone in an earlier, possibly more untidy home. The wonder of insight is missing. ~.It is, of course, explained that one owes it to non,Catholics to be careful in the way we speak of/to her. This is true. Yet it should be recognized that there are real differences between .us both in faith and atmosphere, stemming from faith as a way of life not an academic code. The ethos of the evangelical Protestant, for example, is not easily expressed in terms of Greek Orthodoxy's devotional life. Both are valid traditions, but they are undeniably different. Yet if one has the good fortune of belonging to The Ecumenical Society of.the Blessed Virgin Mary it may prove a revelation to see and hear how easily Christians of every denomi-nation speak of her. I, too, very much value the invitation given me some years ago to belong to the Methodist Preachers' Fellowship, and find within its integrity, respect and support that it is possible to speak of Our Lady. (The Methodist Neville Ward, it will be remembered, wrote in Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy, a very fine book on the rosary). It is "megaphor~e diplomacy"---publicly shouting at one another--tliat is to be feared, not in expressing how one genuinely bdieves and lives within a context of respect and understanding: I wasat a Protestant school until I was twelve and have,the highest regard .for what I was taught there, The local minister would drive us in his car to Mass, unasked, on really_wet wintry Sundays--and he later became moderator of the Church of Scot-land. So perhaps I may claim first-hand experience of the Protestant ethos and .am far from unsympathetic to it. It is a strange paradox.that while the eighth chapter of Lumen Gentium and the later Marialis Cultus, to say nothing of the present Holy Father, express a recognizably Catholic feeling and continuity, so unlike much of current teaching and. devotional life, somehow there has been a break from what once was, and the person of Our Lady has been almost lost in the concept. To see Our Lady then reflected in the feminine figure of Wisdom is to see in her a transparent reflection of the transcendence and immanence of God's presence, She is n6where and she is everywhere. This may puzzle some who consider in so broadening her significance that it may somehow Our Lady of Wisdom / 327 lessen her value in the'community. This might be so if she is seen as just. one specific piece on the chessboard, somehow .to be welded into aft'overall strategy. But the reality of theoChurch, of course, is of a community created and indwelt by the Spirit of the living God. It is a living organism in which we each relate to'one another in 12hrist through grace-enlightened knowl-edge and love. Our Lady; supremely orie with the will of God, is therefore an influential channel of ttiat life: "And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped .in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy. Spirit" (Ek 1:41). Seen in this light; therefore, coming from the heart of the Christian community, she is never an inquisitive aunt, obtrusive neighbor nor cling-ing friend. Nor is she a static figure with. her own particular niche in the wall, to be referred to now and agai'n. As th6 lovely feminine figure of Wisdom Owing more to insight than eyesight or imagination is lost in the wonder of what she suggests, so too Our Lady. Sowhen G. M. Hopkins in a well-known poem comparing her to the air we breathe, spoke to her as, World-mothering air. a'ir wild . Fold home. fast hold th3~i'child. he is talking of life and limitless freedor~ not limitation. He is not-advocat-ing a stranglehold distancing one from God, caught up in Mary's apron strings in'a state of permanent adolescence. Rather does she, as ~lid Wis-dom, mediate the presence of God that perhaps has to be experienced to be understood. The traditional prayer, "Virgo respice, Mater, adspice, audi nos, O Maria. " perhaps.puts it at its simplest. One scarcely needs a translation to feel that prayer convincingly suggesting on her part atten-tion, anticipation, concern, fellow feeling, x+hich, while relishing her company, is at the same time an act of faiih in the underlying reality that "He who is mighty has done great things for me. and holy is his name"(Lk 1:49). Gift of The Spirit Perhaps the °point may~be further underlined by considering God's presence as expressed in the experience of Spirit,, A thesaurus could find many words to 'express it life, breath, wind describing an intangible reaiity. As an expression-of God's presence it indicates that it can be experienced everywhere but never held. The Spirit of God brought this universe into being, and the: same creative Spirit was responsible for the existence of the community of Israel, inspiring within it particular individ-uals to, perceive the presence and guidance of God~ So "God would speak with Moses face to face, as a man ~peaks to his 'friend" (Ex 33:11). As a result of this intimacy he was instrumental in helping to build the commun- ~121~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 ity. Similarly, on receiving the prophetic spirit, "Elijah arose like a fire his word flaming like a torch" (Si.48:1), empowering.,him almost single-handed to hold ca'fly Israel together against colossal! odds. This influence of the Spirit of God suggests that a man is taken out of himself, often despite himself. As Amos, probably the first of the writing prophets, put it: "The lion roars: who can help feeling afraid? The Lord God, speaks: who can refuse to prophesy?" (Am 3:8). Enlightened by the Spirit of God .withinthe community of Israel, such people were given such insightSnto their own age that in the name of God they felt compelled to speak and act. The eyesight of most of their contemporaries was blind to what their God-given insight enabled them to see in a world illumined by~ God's spirit. As the Spirit of God dwelt within the heart-,of Israel so no less emphati-cally says St.~-Paul. was the Spirit present within the Christian cgmmunity. As God was present in the Holy of Holies of the Jerusalem temple so Paul tried to open the eyes of the Corinthians to the° wonder of his presence among .them: "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you. God's temple is holy, and that temple you are" (1 Co 3:16-17). God present among s~uch people individually and collectively points the wonder of it all in view of who they we?e: "not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful., of noble birth" (I Co 1:26). Nondescript, marginal people for ~he most part--as was said of the unfortunate boxer. '~not even a household name in his own house'--God evidently "chose what is foolish . . . weak . . . low and despised" (I Co 27-28). Enlightened by the wisdom and Spirit of God as a member of that community, Paul does not apologize for its surface crudi-ties as his insight enables him to see within to the Spirit's indwelling presence. It is a creation of God, and like all his gifts "can only be under-stood by means of the Spirit" (1 Co 2:14). Reflecting long and often as he must have done on what was being created in and around himself, Paul comes to see that "the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God . . . Now. " . fie have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Co 2:10-12). This is a phenomenal insight as Paul wrestles with the almost inexplicable to aid the Corinthians' self-under-standing. Their lives are radically touched and empowered by God, mo~Jing from the depths of his Spirit to theirs. Meaning little to others in view of their lack of status, they mean everything to God. And it was this same Spirit. which enabled Paul never to be quite beaten by the constant bread and butter inconsistencies, and. to see the reality beneath._ It is all, Paul reflects,, ~eminiscent of the wisdom of God which so often seems to stand logic on its head. lts linchpin is the crucified and risen Christ "whom God Our Lady of Wisdom / 329 made our wisdom" (1 Co 1:30) in the face of a disbelieving world. Such insight~does not come from the schoolroom or marketplace. It is a gift from God enabling "those'who are called. [to see] Christ thepbwer of God and the~visdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men" (I Co 1:24-25). This same pattern is true of Our Lady. She is to be understood ihen from within the community. An ostensibly nondescript person from unre-markable Nazareth if one considers the circumstances of her calling, yet the inner reality can only be gauged insofar as one is given to see what is meant when "The Holy Spirit will come upon 'you, and the power of the Most Highs:will 6ve'rshadow you" (Lk 1:35-36). The creative spirit of God which once brought this universe'into existence, now through her willing co6per-ation (see Lk'l:38), brings to birth a new creation in her Son. Such is the effect of the Spirit's power and presence that "the child to b~ born will be called holy, the Son of God" (Lk 1:35). This is the defining feature of her life: Mother and Son are inseparably linked. One with him at birth, home and crucifixion, she is found within the early Christian community pray-ing. So it has been for centuries as she ~is seen among us preeminently lovable and faithful, empowered by wisdom and the Spirit. The Christian community has responded accordingly, as in every nation under heaven all generations have called her blessed (see Lk 1:48). Today in much contemporary .teaching and practice, the brush appears to have been put back behind the door. It is not without significance that this has happened at a time when the values of the numinous, transcend-ence, silence and worship are under severe pressure. Mainstream liturgy, teaching and devotion have virtually nothing to say of the contemplative. Such a need is fostered from the edge, not the center. When influential numbers of our pastors, teachers and opinion-formers generally, seem to lack any obvious feeling for the contemplative, it may beno surprise that they display or encourage little warmth for Our Lady, Seat of Wisdom. ~Vhen meaning has to be on the surface and immediately comprehended, it is perhaps inevitable that so rich and varied traditions of the Church, not least as regards Our Lady, have given way to a subdued monochrome world. : Let Your Gaze Become My Prayer Perhaps all of this may be finally summarized in a few lines from a prayer of St. Anselmto St. John the Evangelist, asking for the love of God: "Ifthen, sir, your gaze has more good in it than my prayer has devotion, let your gaze become my prayer."5 This is a very fine expression of the role of Our Lady, the saints and our fellow-Christians in the Church, one person 331~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 in Christ. with ourselves (see Ga. 3:25-28). The individual Anselm asks the aid of the evangelist .John, whom he sees in faith to be now wholly caught up in G6d:.So he asks th~it his own self in his prayer be taken up into sharing what St, John sees. °He speaks to John but looks beyond him following the evangelist's gaze. Love has been described as two people looking in the same direction. What they see draws them togetherenabling them to live as one in a new reality. This we have here. Anselm's prayer is felt to be inferior to John's vision so he asks that "your gaze become my prayer." This, inthe main, is what is meant by Our Lady's patronage. Filled from her conception with the ~,isdom and Spirit of God in vieW of her voc~ition as Mother of God, her whole being reflects the Orie who has mad~ her who she is as she rejoices in God her Savior (see Lk 1:47)i One person in Christ with her, the Christian; and anyone genuinely.asking her he!.p._;'_w.a.n._t.s_t_.o~be taken into her being and held by what she sees "Let your gaze become my prayer." So easy to relate to, inviting, the individual to come in his or her own way, her life is givenomeaning by her Unflinching attachment to the will of God in good days and bad. Such a person is no obstacle between us and God if her gaze becomes our prayer, as the words and images drop away before the holiness of God. One can, of course, with the apophatic tradition, which maintains that it is impossible to say anything of God other than that he is, try to put everything that is not God into a "cloud .of forgetting" leaving only a naked intent for God. So our Lord, sacraments, Our Lady, Scripture, saints--:-~ everything must go. "If you see the Buddha kill him." Well yes, but even the Engiish mystic who expressed this so supremely well, giving as the bottom line between oneself and God, "Worship God with all you have got. All-that- you-are-as,you-are worshipping ail-that-he-is-as-he-is," has his reality first defined in Christ, and must recognize therefore that "it is God for his own loving purpose who puts both. the will and the action into you" (Ph 2:13):6 Whether he adverts to it or not, the ontological reality underpinning his:every movement and prayer is Christ in whom "all things were created. :. He isb(fore all things and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the Church,' (Col. 1:16-18). Reality is thus held in the overarching Christ who reconciled us to God by "making peace by the blood of his cross., by his death" (Col 1:20-22): Blood and death together are irrevocable, costly and messy (so much so that the sensitivities of the Jerusalem Bible translators cause them to omit "blobd"), ~butit was precisely in Christ's crucifixion and resurrection that he can now "present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him [God]"(Col 1:22)? We are unforgettably marked with the sign of the cross, In Christ, therefore, is found 'the very oxygen enabling us to breathe the air Our Lady of Wisdom/~ 331 of God. One admires the climber attempting Everest, but one knows that he could not set foot on the lower slopes, far less reach the summit without-oxygen. It is never seen but it is always there, and in Christ we are sup-ported by a whole ~loud of ~vitnesses, prophets, apostles, saints among whom is preeminently the Mother of God. They interact with us in Christ in every moment of every day whether we are conscious of it or not. There is no need of mental images of Paul, Our Lady, or even Christ himself. Attachment to Our Lady in this context should not be seefi as a limiting form of prayer. To see her so is possibly to have a fixed, static view of Christian reality not unlike the wooden, materialist outlook of popular nineteenth-century science. The truth of science as glimpsed today is so wonderful and mobil~ that much of it cannot even be imagined, yet its beauty clearly enthralls many, light years away from the earlier approach. Immaturity ~s the problem. We are, for the most part, too pedestrian. But in this lies our salvation. Everyone in Christ is for us. It may be a sign of the times that in an .age full of self-assertion we find it hard to believe that anyone can be self-effacing. But the GOspel reality is just that, "For all things are yours." whether Paul, Bernadette, Catherine, Th~rEse or Mary, "or the world or life or death or the present or the future, all are yours; and you are Christ's; and Christ is God's" (1 Co 3:21-23). We are, perhaps most of us, infants in Christ, with at best an.imperfect, grasp of God loving us i.n Christ, unable without wisdom and the Spirit to see the simplicity of ,Paul's insight, holding all of reality in the present moment in-Christ. But we know the claim that the child has on Christ. And in this above all, surely he is at one with his mother. NOTES tMaisie Ward, Return to Chesterton, Sheed and Ward, 1952, p. 34. 2A. Heschel, The Prophets Vol. 1, Harper and Row, 1971, p.x6. 3C. Dickens, Hard Times, Chap. 2. 4A. Heschel, op. cit. Vol. 2, p. 267. 5B. Ward, The Prayqrs and Meditations of St. Anselrn--Pfayer to St. John the Evan- 'gelist (2), Penguin, 1975. ~ 6C. Woltors, The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works and The Epistle of Privy Counsel, chap. 4, Penguin, 1978 . 7C. A. Anderson Scott's plausible observation with regard to St. Paul in general is instructive: "The allusion to the blood of Christ, here (Rm 3:25) as in other passages~in Paul, is probably connected with.the overwhelming impression which Paul had received as a spectator of the Crucifixion." Footnotes to St'. Paul (CUP, 1935): Personality, and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates Matthias Neuman, OS.B. Father Neuman, well known to our readers, whose latest contribution, "The Holiness of Saint Francis: Spiritual Vision and' Lived Suffering,, ~appeared in the issue of September/October, 1985, contin'u6s to teach at Saint Meinrad Seminary; Saint Mein-rad, lndiana :47577. For the past four years my primary occupation has involved directing the pre,theology program in our s.,eminary. This special year-long program ffims to prepare a certai:n group of young men for entrance into a regular course of theological studies for priesthood. These are candidates who already possess their college degrees but who have had no course work in philosophy or theology--or any exposure to a regular spiritual formation program, The very existence of college-graduate or pre-theology years in seminaries bears witness to a significant shift in recent vocational patterns. Fifteen years ago my first-year theology course would have had one or two "older" individuals; they were routinely mixed in with the students who had graduated from various college seminaries. In a decade and a half those one or two have swollen to better than half the first-year classes in many theologates around the United States. This means that a significant portion of today's priesthood candidates are waiting to "test" their possible ~voca-tions until after the college years and after some significant work and societal experience, A similar phenomenon appears among applicants for religious orders of women and men. Almost any meeting of formation personnel deals with some issue or problem concerning "older vocations." Indeed it is not uncommon for a formatiOn directress to be younger than several, of her charges. 332 Adjustments in Older Candidales / 333 While many observers applaud this shift in vocational process, and both priestly and religious recruiters have begun to plot ways of casting their nets in these newly-discover6d waters, the formidable challenges of providing a solid and effective regimen of formation should not be glosse~l over quickly. These men and women come to seminaries and religious houses at a considerably different stage in life than do graduates right out of high school or college. It will not suffice to merel~ ~transfer previous spiritual, academic and social formational methods to ~this new wave, for they bring quite different problematics for spiritual formation, academic programs and general adjustment to religious institutional life. The first year of formation in particular needs to pay.close attention to: l) the backgrounds of these people, 2) the life transitions they are experiencing, and 3) the adjustment problems they will most likely encounter. The first three sections of this article ~ill address these topics in more detail,~and the concluding section will offer some suggestions for helping the candidates themselves to manage this initial transition period more effectively. Backgrounds The ages of these older vocations may range from the mid-twenties to the mid-seventies. (Several were even ordained irf their 80s!) However the bulk of such callings has been in the 25-45 age bracket and I will focus most of my comments on that group. *~- ' 0 Perhaps the first major item format.ion personnel should~-~recognize is that these people-~'even at age twenty-five generally possess a somewhat. solidified personality structure. This doesn't necessarily imply that their personality structures are well-shaped oreven healthy, but simply that they have been hardened to an extent by the pressures of work, societal survival and recreational interactions. Educational research has tended to show that the first two years after college exert, a significant hardening, and even. a temporary halt, to attitudinal and conceptual growth. This can be seen as a natural result of mov~ngfrom the more fluid world of college into a societal context where work-pressures demand a~more fixed cast to one's goals, plans and attitudes. Thus, these individuals differ from the far more malleable candidates trained in the seminary or academy systems of years past. Even though they are obviously considering a major career shift by investigating a priest-ly or religious calling, they usually retain a good deal of .their solidified personality structure. They may not-even be aware of how habitual they have become in. patterns 9f relationship, daily routines and general atti-tudes. Those who have lived alone for even two or three years have devel-oped private habits of socializing and personal recreation which mayclash 3~14 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 strongly with the regular demands of community living. These st~rongly formed !ife-patterns also emerge in the realm of spiritu-ality,. It is not unusual for these men and women to have already expe-rienced in a variety of ways a verY powerful presence of Godin their lives, a Eresence that has been both sustaining and nourishing, a divine presence that has been greatly responsible for calling them to a switch of life-tasks. Many older candidates attest to some kind of "conversion experience" that brought them to this new way .of life even if they had been "possibly considering it." for years. This conversion experience and presen~c.e of God usually has shaped.their personal .spiritualities to a great extent. In particu-lar, the styl~es o.f prayer they favor are generally associated.with the qualities of that particular presence of God, e.g., God in nature~and an individual mystical prayer, God° in a conversion from sinfulness and a prayer of penance, God in~ .familial tradition and a structured devotional prayer. Without. being reflectively aware of it,osuch reasong have usually con-jured up an image of either priesthood or religious life that is primarily an intensification of their personal spirituality. (For example, one young man, age 30, who was converted by his reading of the New Testament~defined the primary task of the priest as teaching the Bible to people.) A formation direct_or may find these candidates to have imperceptibly meshed together~a particular style of prayer, a favored presence of God, and an implicit image of priesthood or religious life. The tight interweaving, of these factors .can cause average to severe problems in the adjustment to a formation pro-gram; the tampering with one item (e.g., teaching different prayer styles or a v.ariant image of religious life) may be perceived by candidates as a threat to the spiritual background and religious experience that gave them their new spiritual impulse. Perhaps the most-common example of the above dynamic occurs in trying to instill a sense of the value and importance of common prayer. Few of my priesthood candidates come with much appreciation or experience of the Liturgy of the Hours. Living as individuals in society, they have usually forged strong patterns of private prayer. Introducing them into the common morning and evening prayer of the semin.a.ry occasions a crisis for some each year. Common prayer does not,meet their "personal needS"; it co~mpetes with private prayer; their former sense of closeness to God gets worn away. Some begin to feel very hostile toward the seminary for ruining their intimacy ,with God:and thus threatening their vocation. It will have to be a sensitive formation program that can "deconstruct" a. person's reli-gious background, i.e. break it into its compon.ent parts, so that the indi-vidual may assimilate'in a healthy~way.the spiritual components of a sound priestly, or religious-order spirituality. Adjustments in Older Candidates 335 People who have worked for even a few years at a competitive job in the societal labor force will accumulate some, highly fixed patterns of routine daily life. The schedule of most jobs mandates some regularity. Daily and weekly habits of work, r~creation and friendships give rise to a network of personal supports that soften the challenges of life. These supports, or "strokes" in the recent psychological lingo~ help to carry a person°through ~the down times of regtilar living. Similarly persons who in an-intefise occupational setting, such as a social case worker, personnel rfianag~r or teacher, may have silently linked part of their adult identity to these supports. - One of the standard planks for a personal identity is the positive affir-mation we receive from the,. significant individuals in our lives (family, friends, mrntors, students).We call on this affirmation regularly~if the pressures ~of our job consistently erode bur well-being and identity. The entranize into a seminary or religious house removes persons from both the comforts of their habitual routines and the necessary strokes of signifi-cant others. This abse~ce may give rise'to a profound gense of loneliness or even abandonment. Perirds of confusion and depression soon compliote matters even more. An insightful formation program needs to be con-stantly alert to these possibilities, and d~velop ways of ?egularly informing and assisting candidates to understand and' process these and similar experiences. A report from a meeting of Midwest seminary rectors in 1981 summa~i"- ized nicely a g,bbd numbef of additional background issues which these priestly candidates bring to the seminary (and religious life). ,. Experience indicates that the can~didate who has made applicatipn for theology school without previous seminary experience possesses all or some of tile following characteristics: he has little or~' no experiefice, in community living; he has not had or.has had little experience of spiritual direction and is concerned about his ability to use the direction offered him; he perceives' himself as very much an outsider in the seminary com-munity; he is unfamiliar with the special language employed both in the professional life of the seminary, e.g., academics and liturgical practice, as well as commufiity living experiences; often he is a man of practical expe-rience. with varying ability to deal with issues on a speculative level; if he is older, he might well have an exaggerated sense of his age; he is more conservative in his spirituality particularly if a recent "conversion expe-rience" has led him to ~hear the call to priesthood; he has high anxiety conceriaing the de~cision which he has recently made to enter the seminary.1 Although much more could be said about background, I will limit my observations to the preceding comments. Formation personnel should 356 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 remember that these older candidates may be more mature and worldly-wise than ~th0se fresh .o~ut of college: but they bring their ~unique bevy of problems with them. Many of these difficulties are frequently connected to a hardened personal and religi6us identity and the unconscious manner in which various factors get meshed (e.g., prayer style, validity of conversion, and expectations). Frequently these problems boil to the surface when candidates get fitted into the regulated worlds of the ~eminary or religious community. (NB. Seminaries and religious houses may ~be psychologically highly regulated even without minute daily schedules. Long periods of the day may be free and unstructured, but those hours are also 7"filled" .with pow.erful academic, ministerial and spiritual expectations. Such a day is regulat.ed not by schedule but by official expectation.) None of the above.problems should be considered insoluble. In my experience the great majority of candidates can successfully negotiate these personal and religious challenges. But the formation program as such needs to positively assist.,these men and women to identify accurately what is happening in their lives. These transitional adjustments are not usually vocational crises, and sudden hostility toward the seminary, religious community or individual superior is not always a problem with authority. To understand what is happening emotionally a clear presentation to them of the range of personal transition going on needs to be conveyed. Multiple Transitions As the previous section mentioned, a young man or woman coming to seminary or religious community after several years of work and societal experience will confront a variety of transitions. Usually the candidates are somewhat aware and a bit apprehensive about the challenges ahead and they are ~bgnizant Of what they have "given up." Howeverl up6~ arrival at their new place of r~sidence they can be overwhelmed with the thrill of a new religious start.Having left the world where one struggled to survive religiously in a secular and cynical culture, they begome exhilarated in the environment of a supportive, like-minded community. Even the most dis, tant hopes of spirituality and ministry suddenly seem possible. (Every year each new group ,of candidates within .the first two weeks wants to add even ¯ more prayer services to the school's. Eucharist, morning rand evening prayer.) Thus the man~, transitions of life get forgotten ina tidal wave of religious fervor, but the transitions are still going on silently and relent-lessly. In time they frequently turn that tidal wave into a scorched desert of barren feeling. The transitions' are frequently more complicated and subtle than the Candidate realizes. The first transition is the move from a secular world Adjustments in Older Candidates / 337 with its pockets of popular religiosity into an encompassing ecclesiastical religious world. In the former situation faith and religious practice have served as powerful, value-laden forces ttiat supported, protected and nour-ished the individual; in the latter situation religious practice is :a constant, pervading element of almost every waking activity. An ecclesiastical reli-gious world often fails to separate the trivial and the important, the special and the ordinary, the cynical and the solemn. It's religion twenty'four hours a day! One ~young man said, "I've talked more God-talk in the last six months than in my previous twenty~six years combined. It's blowing my mind!" This religious overload takes its toll on the psychic system: the young man or woman may begin to feel he or she has lost that "something special" which faith provided. When all'is religious, nothing is religious! They may become distressed by their first in-close dealings with religious practices that are, routine, cynical and sometimes blatantly hypocritical. Their inexperience at differentiating motives and practices within a total ecclesiastical world can make them feel that the only way out is global rejection. The formation program needs to regularly help the candidates express and process their feelings towards the total religious community. Individuals obviously vary, but my students generally show signs in three weeks to a month of inner turmoil over their newfound ecclesiastical world. ,The transition to an ecclesiastical world will slowly induce other nega-tive ramifications. Young ,adult candidates begin the initial year with an amount of confidence they have built up in maintaining their faith com-mitment against diverse social presst]res. It is not unusual for some to have had to justify their vocational change to family, friends and coworkers; repeated justifications build in them a certain sense of well-being about their commitment. Other people publicly acknowledge them to be more religiously oriented for going to a seminary or convent. But upon entering the total ecclesiastical world, they soon perceive themselves as complete novices in more.ways than~one, They listen to conversations or classes filled with" church jargon and they soon judge themselves to know practically nothing about faith or religion. Liturgical customs befuddle them and they are embarrassed to ask names of objects, vestments or devotions that ¯ everyone else seems to know"intimately. Three months ago they were explaining many aspects of the Catholic faith to' coworkers; now they can easily perceive themselves as religiously dumb or incompetent. This partic-ular transition may contribute to their conservative stance, which is really a means of salvaging some vestige of religious dignity from their past. This transition, likeo all of them, can be jolting, but it can also be worked through. ~i31~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 Another key transition is the movement from one fixed social setting to another. Seminaries and religious communities tend to be enclosed, regu-lated societies (by laws or general expectations or both). Daily schedules and societal routines, such as meals, common prayers and social relation-ships can be vastly different from the social style that older candidates have become accustomed to. The-predominance,of same-sex relationships causes real hardships to some; the absence of children or family settings may be bothersome; the lack of free, unstructured evenings or weekends or the lack of a car and its freedom disrupt.the previous.ways that individuals had dissipated tension. That tension now accumulates and begins to boil within. ¯ I have found that on6 of the largest and most troubling transitions for young adults is the entrance into a trainin.g'program where theend is preparation for a. public role, along with the public evaluation that role requires. The priesthood as public leadership in the Chtirch and the eccle-sial witness of a religious community both demand evaluations of, persons seeking to enter those positions. Many older candidates have never thought of their religious pursuit through this lens,~-having confined their religious practice to a predominantly interior, individual and privatized realm (as is the fashion ofmost religious practice in the United States).2 The communal environment of seminaries and religious communities is saturated by the air of evaluation. Evaluation procedures are everywhere in current practice: academic, personal, spiritual, and so forth. All individuals must evaluate themselves (and others).on an annual basis. Each priesthood candidate will undergo an overall evaluation by faculty, and formation personnel on such matters as intellectual competence, social skills, pastoral abilities and spiritual growth. Externalization of what has often been a highly privatized religious realm can be terribly upsetting for the young adult. Some simply cannot see that,such matters should be evaluated publicly; the intense individualism of their religious background and expe-riences reacts strongly. Others become oversensitized, fearful. They worry about expulsion for unknown: reasons or accusation .by some Grand Inquisitor. Still others .may become hesitant because they°'fail to separate the realm of public behavior and standards from interior faith and direc-tion. A criticism about their lack of social abilities~can be "understood" as a criticism about °the integrity of theif~faith. A good. formation program should work with candidates to help them both understand and interiorize the meaning and demands of assuming a public leadership role, or the public demands of community~belonging. One young man said, "I just don't ~want to. be ste.reotyped~." I responded. "Sorry, it comes with the job." Many of these young adults who grew up in Adjustments in Older Candidates / 339 the age when traditional Catholic distinctions had slipped into shadows do not know the distinctions between "internal" and "external" forum. This must be carefully spelled out, and repeated from time to time. Even with all this, the appreciation of what a public religious leadership role demands does not occur without prayer, struggle and guidance through spiritual direction. The appreciation and interiorization of a public religious respon-sibility (beyond that of a private, personal spirituality) possesses all the elements of a significant conversion experience in life.~ To truly recognize the priestly ministry or the vowed religious life as constituting an ecclesial figureis also to accept thgse lifestyles as embodying~a responsibility to the whole Catholic world and Catholic tradition; this reaches considerably beyond a personal arid private" religious obligation. It requires an accep-tance and interiorization of public behavior, skills and attitudes which relate as much to the community of the Church as to my personal relatiom ship with God. Life transitions do pile up on the young adult who arrives at a seminary or religious community and seeks to discern a prssible calling to priest-hood or vowed life. We have considered several of the major ones: into an encompassing ecclesiastical world, from one fixed social setting into a quite different one, arid into a ~climate of higlfiaiablic evaluation. The anxieties generated by these transitioris can become severe, as the rii~xt section will show. For the l~resent fie simply need to note them and recognize that a Victic of directly addressing these transitions needs ~to be a constant com-ponent of both the formational and spiritual-direction program for these young adults. The Trauma of Transition For more than a decade the Alban Institute in Washington, D.C.I has studied the dynamics of "transition technology" in ministerial situations (e.g. from seminary to par!sh; from associate to pastor,,from one parish to another)) Leaders of the°institute recognized that those occasions when a person moves from one "known" social setting into a new and relatively unknown social setting constitute some of the most ~vulnerable periods in an individual's life. Although many organized-church traditions have fre-q uently moved, individuals from place to place as a matter of policy, little has been.done to help them make effective transitions to their new ministry or enable them to manage the sometimes severe traumas which may occur. (Th'e "grace of obedience"~was thought to effect the desired rebalancing:) The research of the Alban Institute has shown tl~at beginmngs in a pastoral situation are important; that the first months of adjustment frequently determine one's long-range adaptation and effectiveness in a new setting. 340/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 (In fact, more and more dioceses and religious houses are coming, to recognize the incredible influence of the first full-time placement.) Much of this research on transition technology becomes extremely relevant to young adults entering seminaries and religious communities for the first time. My particular seminary program deals with about thirty youngmen a year. l.would say it is.common for better than half of each group to feel some uncomfortableness over the transitions the$, experience. Their dis-comfiture may range from mild annoyance to severe personal upheaval. It is not unusual for an enthusiasm of the first weeks to slowly diminish and give wayto a growing diso'rientation. Some begin to.worry that they made a mistake, and the seminary .becomes a fearsome, t~rapping situation because their previous job has.been discontinued and their housing sold or leased. Others just ask over and over, "Why am 1 here?" and can't seem to find a satigfactory answer. A few may worry that their entire faith is crumbling; they can't explain sudden doubts which appeared where only months before there was absolute conviction. This time of doubt and dejection is frequently accompanied~by physical symptoms. Nagging illnesses like colds or upset stomachs pop up; physical weariness becomes the order of the day. Changes in bowel habits or sleep-lessness can increase anxiety. A transition experience cuts across all dimen-sions of life: physical, psychological, social and spiritual. We must understand the effects of social transitions on all these human areas,,and be ready to help people negotiate them. Psychologically, in a period of transition, by definition a young adult coming from secular societal life to the seminary or religious community, his or her daily patterns of life have all been removed, and new patterns do not immediately emerge. In certain aspects these individuals are like.immi-grants, slowly searching and experimenting for new roots. This time change may cause strong internal feelings to erupt. Some individuals Who previously held positions of authority and responsibility in the societal work force now feel the disorientation and worthlessness that lack of authority and status may bring. And there is no work or service in their new life to compensate. The sudden displacement of responsibilit.y may spark feelings of worthlessness or humiliation. (~Karl Marx had a valid insight in saying that a good deal of our personal identity comes from the socially significant work we do.) Lastly, the h~avy outpouring of psychic energy that goes with meeting new people, places and routines day after day leaves everyone tired and feeling a bit drained, and that weariness usually compounds the other negative feelings. This trauma of transition is not unusual, neither is it .a test that will, Adjustments in Older Candidates / 341 necessarily overwhelm a certain percentage of candidates. If these persons understand the probability of its occurrence at some time ~n their first year, do some preparation, and know some techniques of personal management, they are~able to handle it with a modicum of discomfort. One last point.should be watched: there it a quite normal dynamism of expectation which may w6rk havoc in situations of transitions, and I have frequently noticed it in pre-theology candidates. These young men often come from societal settings where they have been able to exercise some Christian service and engage in personal spirituality projects on a limited scale (perhaps in a parish volunteer setting or a Christian social-action group). When they enter the seminary and begin formal preparation for priesthood, their expectations escalate and they "assume" an immediate increase in Christian serviceand spirituality practices. But with full-time classes and school activities they are soon doing less actual ministry than before, and their personal prayer gets mixed up by the communal obliga-tions mentioned before.4 Psychologically their expectations are "gunning" the spiritual motor, so to speak, but socially they are in Park, and they find that they are grinding themselves down. This dynamic needs to be watched and worked with by formation personnel and spiritual directors. Older candidates need to formulate sl6~vly and patiently a "plan of identification" just as the Alban lfistitute counsels new ministers to work gradually towards formulating a plan of ministry for their new pastoral assignment.5 Just as six months is a recommended period of grace bef6re initiating parish changes, it is p]-obably a reasonable time-allotment for new-candi-dates before they attempt to assess (and escalate) any personal expectations they place o'n themselves. Suggestions for Personal and Spiritual Management The perception that older priesthood and religious candidates require qualitatively different kinds of formation programs is an ,idea that has already taken deep root among vocation and formation personnel. Signifi-cant strides have been made in many areas like course instruction and communityqiviiag requirements. I fiaerely hope to add a bit to this growing body of knowledge b~ suggesting some tactics and strategies to assist these individuals working through their initial adjustment or transition phase. These comments are more often applicable within the first six months of entry into seminary or religious community. The first strategy, in the line of preventive medicine, is quite simply knowledge, an awareness that some transition-anxiety will probably occur no matter how fine and enthusiastic the first weeks may be. There will undoubtedly be a great diversity in how individuals manage transitions; for ~149 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 some the adjustments may be slight, but few will have no problems what-ever. Simply to have in one's awareness a basic grasp of the multiple transitions, and how these transitions produce p~rsonal stress will provide guidelines for interpretation and action. To diagnose a difficulty ~icc.urately. is the first essential task in any kind of counseling. In this instance it may offset the further anxiety that can result if the young persgn feel.s that his or her vocation or faith is disintegrating. A second level o.f strategy would articulate a set of tactics that °might assist the young adult inthe midst of transition stresses to cope with these pressures. These tactics are similar to managing any "survival situation.TM They can be briefly summarized: 1) Lowe.rpqrsonal expectations. Instead of escalating their demands upon themselves to pray more fervently, work harder and do more service to others,, efforts should be made to cut back on these eoxpectations temporarily. The key here is to conserve physical and psychological energy for the tasks of psychic self-preservation. These indi-viduals are already operating at a reduced, energy level (due to the drain that social transitions exert), and there is no way they can successfully meet escalatedexpectations. Repeated failures merely compound guilt and nega-tive feelings, 2) Increased rest. The bodily systems are the foundation for psychological and emotional health as well as for making accurate judg- ¯ ments. When emotions are depleted, the body needs rest to coalesce strength and rebuild proper balance. For a time one may have to sacrifice other elements in the daily schedule in order, to get some additional rest time. 3) Pay attention to building daily routines. One of the reasons for high energy drain in transition times is that ever~h.ing is. ne,.w (people, places, schedule, social expectations). An inordinate amount of attentive awareness goes into "meeting" new people and performing even simple daily tasks. Habit or routine is Of value precisely to relieve that constant outpouring. Seek to regularize daily work-times, eating .and rest habits, companions, and so forth. 4) Spiritual direction and counseling. It always helps to talk tlirough problems, especially with a person who can provide a wider frame ~of reference. It does take some humility to asks. for help, particularly when one wanted so much to get off to a fabulous start in a new career. 5) Remind yourself that perserveranc.e is a Christian virtue. The young adult might remember that he or she has ~already made a very significdnt personal decision (to seek a testing of priesthood or religious life) and that decision should be stuck to "in good times and in bad," as any promise ought to be. A third, strategy would be to:recognize that a dynamic similar to the grieving process needs to tran_spire in the person. For many of these older candid~ites there is a break and removal,from friends, supports and joys of Adjustments in Older Candidates living. A sense of loss may strike them~ sharply as the first bloom of seminary or religious-community life wears off. The classic stages of the grieving process denial, anger, bargaining,,depression, acceptance cab find analogues in this context: fighting the onset of discouraging feelings, anger at the institution or superiors, bargaining to find some accomodating way, and so forth. Formation personnel should help candidates to realize that such feelings may be part of the natural adaptive process and not simply a rejection or d~nial of their vocations to priesthood or religious life. At particular moments it helps to say clearly ~hat one must give oneself permission to be discouraged or angry or depressed. That~acceptance may be necessary if an individual is to work the grieving process to a resolution and a newfound balance. Finally, a major theme of the pre-theology or novitiate year, which can be successfully introduced when the candidates are a couple of months into the program, is that of Christian conversion. A goodly number of older candidates arrive at their respective ecclesia~stical institutions as the result of some form of conversion experience, and so they often feel that the major part of the conversion process is behind them. The theological understand-ing of conversion as lifelong, process, with the tougher steps still ahead, becomes more graspable as the first sheen of the year wears off and people settle into the long haul Of personal and ministerial formation, lndeed conversion becomes more challenging the deeper it penetrates into our hearts and souls. Later people may look back and realize-that the expe-rience which brought them to seminary or religious community only cracked the surface. The more difficult and richer stages lie yet in the future. The preceding strategies are some helps I have found in aiding candi-dates to grapple with and conquer the onset of transition anxieties in their first year of seminary or religious community. By no means are they meant to be complete and exclusive. The formation literature that deals with this new form of religious and ministerial candidate grows steadily in breadth and depth; these reflections are intended to be one voice in that continuing conversation. NOTES ~"Candidates Entering Schools of Theology Without Prior Seminary Experie.nce," Report of Midwest Catholic Seminary Rectors (Duplicated Copy-1981), pp. 2-3. 344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 2John Coleman "The Situation for Modern Faith," Theological Studies 39 (1978), pp. 601-632. 3AIban Institute materials 'include a series of pamphlets and workbooks by Roy M. Oswald: Crossing the Boundary Between Seminary and Parish; The Pastor as New-comer; New Beginn(ngs: Pastorate Start-Up Workbook. 4A similar process can transpire in religious community candidates even though they experience common prayer as a part of their ideal. This happens when an individual has so meshed his or her religious self-identity with a particular form of private prayer, that they are perceived as inseparable. It can be more difficult to unravel these situa-tions in religious community settings because of the difficulty of finding some "sabbati-cal time" to do the rettiinking and revaluing. 5Ro3/M. Oswald, New Beginnings: Pastorate Start-Up Workbook (Washington, D.C.: Alban Institute Publications, 1977), pp: 33-65. 61 have dealt with these dynamics further in " 'I'm Just Making It': Survival as a .Spiritual Value," REVlEW FOR R E~.~G~OUS 37 (1978), pp. 277-278. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M. S~ C. Price: 151.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. SL Louis, Missouri 63108 Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola Tad Dunne, S.J. Father Dunne, who previously taught systematic theology at Toronto's Regis College, is now Director of Novices for the Detroit Province. He may be addressed at Loyola House: 2599 Harvard Road: Berkley. Michigan 48072. Retreats can be deceptive. Wewithdraw from our daily0meanderings and ascend to some lofty point from which we can see, from a spiritual perspec-tive, where our journey has taken us and where it is going. We may feel a need for an outlook quite opposite to oar culture's, even extremely so in some sense, if we are to live a vibrant spirituality in the midst of the world. From that vantage point, we search the gospels for some absolute ideal against which to test our everyday activities. And usually we come away with a vision simple and uncompromising. Then we come down from the heights, and before long we start work-ing on a balance between these opposites: not too talkative, but not too silent; not a workaholic, but not lazy; don't jump to conclusions, but don't accept everything mindlessly either. We look back on our retreat from quite a different perspective than we had while we were in it. Then we saw ourselves as refusing to com, promise with the world; but now we feel maybe just a little more faithful or a little more loving, and we count that small gain as our humble best. IS this retreat desire for some spiritual extreme an illusion we amuse ourselves with while p.erc.hed far above the harsh realities of the city? Or is the opposite true: that our adaptations to everyday realities compromise something in us that is precious in the sight of God? Ignatius of Loyola was one person, among many others in our history, who pushed for the no-compromise attitude: ~6 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 Just as people of the world who follow the world love and seek with such great diligence honors, fame, and esteem for a great name on earth, as the world teaches (hem, so those who are progressing i9 the spiritual life and truly following Christ our Lord love and intensely desire everything oppo-site (GE 101).~ This sounds impressive, but many doubt that we can make such a ¯ black/white distinction today. Unlike Ignatius in his day, we perceive a certain continuity between religious values and secular values. Our society's hospitals, its welfare systems, our efforts to eliminate poverty and to estab-lish political grounds for world peace all point to a growing convergence of what "the world" and what Christians intensely desire. Indeed, a case could be made that it is chiefly because of Christian values that the Secular City is gradually taking on humane, even spiritual goals for the human race. So should we regard Ig.natius' contentious approach to life as just a temporary stance made necessary by the chaos of the Church and of society in his time? I would like to argue a strong "No!" Strong, because unless we see some practical usefulness to an "everything opposite,, attitude, we would lose our sense of what is radidal about being Christian. We would gradually grow accustomed to "the world" as it is, and lose our critical 'sense. We w6uld have no razor-edged criterion for weighing practical alter-natiVes in ourapostolates. But what exactly does Ignatius mean by "everything opposite?"Para-doxically, he also counseled balance in many areas of life. So we can legitimately ask in what sense ought we be spiritual extremists, and in what sense men and women of prudent balance? Although I focus m~inly on Ignatius, I have no doubt that most°of the spiritual giants in human history would know what Ignatius was talking about. A Dialectic of Desires First of all, this "everything opposite" attitude does not refer to external social or cultural realities. It does not mCan that we should be opposed to all modern institutions just because they are "of the world." In any cage, these are always a mixed product of intelligence and ~aliqe, of good will and stupidity, and so in their regard we try not to throw out the baby with the bath. What Ignatius is talking about is rather ~ithe inner realities of consciousness. The "everything" which ought to 15e opposite to the "world" means inner desires. The disciple's desires ought to be completely opposite to the worldly penchant in us to "love and seek with such great diligence honors, fame, and esteem for a great name bn earth,~as the world teaches." Let me explain this more .fully. On the one hand, we revel in praise, we take pains to protect our Extremism ih Ignatius of Loyola/347 reputations, and we easily pour our energies into making a name for ourselves. On the other hand, rebukes chasten us, insults sting us, and injuries humble us. However, even when these humiliations are unjustified, we do have to admit that the shock to our pride does have a therapeutic element in it. In some small way, we need a come-uppance now and then. To be "put in one's pldce" can shatter self-defeating illusions we cherish about ourselves. What is very important to notice here is thatwhat honors do to ore: sense of ourselves, and what put-downs do, "are completely opposite. It is these opposing senses of'ourselves, I believe, that Ignatius means°by "everything opposite." Wl~at Ignatius gives in the General Examen, he expands upon in the meditation on the Two Standards (SE 136-148).2 There he shows how different acquired tastes about lifestyle usually lead to quite deep and quite opposite longings abo~t one's self-awareness. On the one hand. the taste for m0ney'leads to a desire for a great name. On the other, the taste for poverty usually leads to a longing for a certain anonymity the kind that frees a person to live without crippling self-concern. And beyond the great name anti th~ little name lie the r~al objects of one's deepest love what Ignatius calls either a.life of pride or a life of humility. Learning the Dialectic of Desires ~ Now few people recognize that, in faCt, they long either for pride or for humility. In"one's everyday choices,, most things seem morally gray, with-out serious consequefices., And yet they do add up to a direction in one's life, a direction that sooner or later reveals whether a person is self-centered or not. So it takes some reI:le~tion to real'ize for oneself that underneath a great number of apparently harmless concerns there lurks one's fundamen-tal inclination to pride. Likewise it takes some measure of self-reflection to notice the interior movements that in fact are a person's desire for humility. Once both these movements are recognized,° we can see that they are entirely opposite pulls in consciousness. Moreover, we can then begin to recognize that this dialectic of desires fihderlies our every activity, and see how it profoundly determines the person we become and the stamp we leave on our world. Given the'importance of this self-education in inner movements, it is no wonder that Ignatius prescribes more meditations on the Two Standards than on any other in the Exercises. ~ Still, we must admit, despite repeated meditations on the Two Stan-dards and nur~erous exhortations on the value of resisting the pull to ownership and to be held in high esteem, even the spiritually mature do not easily maintain.such a dialectical attitu.de toward their inner movements. And so we must ask why an "everything opposite" attitude is so difficult to 348 / Review.['or ReliL, ious~ May-June, 1986 live out. One reason is that we have failed to see the point of the Two Standards meditation. We may shave "done it" during a retreat and felt we got the point. Perhaps we understood Ignatius' view of the spiritual struggle very well and saw its connection toomaking choices in life. So we act as though it is enough to grasp the concept of spiritual struggle; we sincerely hope to bring the concept to bear in our everyday situations. What we forget is that life is concrete, not abstract. The people and the situations around us are a profoundly mysterious jumble of grace and malice, requiring in-depth reflection every day. Mediiation is .not analysis. Nor is =t simply ar~ appreciation of an abstract vision. Rather, meditation should be an ongoing and strenuous exerc=se in understanding the interac-tion between our concrete surroundings and our inner struggles. Ignatius, in fact, appeals very little to the concept of struggle. By that I mean that he does not analyze the meaning of "acting a, gainst" considered as a principle from which actions can be determined. It is one thing to acknowledge that life is a struggle, but quite another to name exactly what we are struggling with each day. In his practice and teaching of discernment Ignatius seldom appeals to an abstract rule of life. Instead, he appeals to imagination and to history to show that life is essentially a dialectic of desires, because he wants us to realize it in our own lives. For example, in the General Examen, he asks that the candidate for the Society of Jesus "ponder" how helpful it is to imitate the humiliated Christ. Does "ponder" mean conceptualize and ar~.lyze here? Not at all. The candidate is asked to imagine spiritually advanced men and womer~ and to notice how in fact they "intensely desire" to be clothed exactly as Christ, because of the love they bear him. lgnatius does not tell the candidate to imitate Christ humiliated and poor. He directs him only t,~ im.agine what the loyal disciple desires. Likewise in the Two Standards, the retreatant imagines the "servants and friends" of Christ, how they are naturally attracted in the direction opposite to pride, and how they attract others in the direction of h~mility.' I believe that ~Igriatius is trying to help the retreatant distinguis~h between several otherwise nameless, interior experiences. By focusing on the disciple instead of the Master, Ignatius clearly means to have us consider which Of our inner experiences, among the many that occur, corresponds to that particular attraction to Christ which the true disciple experiences. In other words, he wants us to discriminate among inner desires, not apply some facile, clean-cut rules about behavior. I said that Ignatius appeals also to history to teach us about these two pulls in consciousness. He does this in two ways. First, he directs a~tention Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola to the purposes which motivated Jesus in his work on earth so that we might better imitate him. True disciples "desire to resemble and imitate our Creator and Lord Jesus Christ. since it was for our spiritual profit that he clothed himself as he did" (GE.101 ). Notice that lgnatius calls Jesus "our Creator." This makes the choices of Jesus for poverty and humiliations a deliberate revelation of how we can best fulfill the purpose of our creation. Our Creator, Jesus Christ, came with this express purpose--to "give us an example that in all things possible we"might seek., to imitate and follow him, since he is the way that leads us to life" (GE 101). For Ignatius, God desired to enter human history in person, taking on the only condition that truly gives life, a condition of poverty and humility. If there was any doubt which inner desire one can depend on, now we see clearly that Jesus Christ freely and wisely chose .poverty and humiliations. History now has a model-member to guide it~ Jesus Christ, not just Lord but Creator as well, in imitation of whose interior .desires we find real life. Ignatius appeals to history in another manner which;although it is less obvious in the texts, underlies everything in the General Examen and the Exercises. Like St. Paul, he boldly sets his own historical experience and that of his first companions as the measure of what abnegation means in the concrete. In Chapter. Four of the General Examen, which Ignatius wrote with the overall intention that novices accept the idea of abnegation,3 we find this reason given: "For where the Society's first members have passed through these necessities and greater bodily wants, the others who come to it should endeavi~r, as far as they can, to reachthe same point as the.earlier ones, or to go farther in our Lord" (GE 81). In other words, the candidate is told that he is entering a community which is not leading itself; it is being led by God. Like Israel, the Society's founding historical expe-rience is normative for the Society's continuing style.Therefore for the simple reason that God moved the early companions to love poverty and humiliations in order to achieve the humility of Jesus, so too shOuld the later companions, because this is not just human work but the very labor of God nbt only in our psyches but in our history too. Isee two kinds of meditations which these reflections should prompt. First, we should learn for ourselves how to recognize when ~we are pulled toward humility and when towards pride. To do this, it may help to compare our~own inner experience to that of deeply spiritual persons. Their outwardly simple and self-effacing lifestyle is a manifestation of a militant obedience, to a deep and steady love within. Authentic people avoid applause, not because they are shy but because they are courageously maintaining a spirit which is very precious to them. Second, we should meditate on the various stories in which God acted ~ / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1986 for the Church through Ignatius, or through any of the men and women who understood the struggle within. Their story is part of our history, and our story draws its meaning from that shared history. God indeed has entered history permanently, not only in the person of Christ Jesus but also in the hearts of our spiritual ancestors. Ignatius and his companions, in particular, recognized that their experience of begging and mockery gave them great joy. And why? Because they felt a concrete share in the expe-rience of their~Creat0r and Lord. Once they decided to form a community, they wrote constitutions with the purpose of structuring, as far as possible. a continual reenactment by its members of their'often difficult yet greatly joyful desires. We can read Scripture in the same way. By attending to the inner experiences which lay behind the texts of Scripture, we can recognize the two pulls of consciousness and the meamng of each, For example, when Jesus heard the woman cry out, "Happy is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursedyou!" he replied, "Not as happy as those who hear the Word of God and keep it!" (Lk 11:27-28). As I read it, this text says that the ~hief concern of a happy consciousness is inner obedience, not family loyalty nor pride in the fruits of one's labor.- For another example, we hear the reading from Wisdom, "I esteemed her [wisdom] more than scepters and thrones:. I loved her more than health or beauty" (7:8-10). What else is this wisdom but, the constant desire to live with ,the regular humiliations that come with living in the truth? Once we understand that what we call "salvation" is in fact the outcome of a tension in consciousness, we can read any scriptural stories and recognize familiar inner movements in ourselves. In this fashion, by seeing our pres-ent experience in the light of the gospels, we can grow to love the humble, self-transcending path. An Empirical View of the Dialectic Having said all that, there .still remains a nagging question. Many deeply spiritual men and women in fact have meditated in this way, have lived in actual poverty, have been stung by the insults, and know the joy that can accompany these experiences, but they regard this as a persono! asceticism only. They possess only vague notions of what the humble way has to do with peace in the world and the ongoing struggle of cultural and political leaders, to achieve it. Perhaps they believe in the~principle that pride pulls down nations, but they have no mental frameworkfor under-standing how it does so. Nor do they perceive how anyone~'s humility might everbuild up a nation. As a result, while they may live out a dialectical attitude ih their personal.lives, they can make no connections between it Ertremism in Ignatius of" Loyola / 351 and contemporary political science, psychology, sociology and economics. And so they seem to ache for the world but know nothing about how to improve it. Our world, after all, is thoroughly empirical, unlike Ignatius' world. which it seems, doted more on eternal verities. Were Ignatius alive today, 1 believe that besides appealing to imagination and to history, he would add a functional explanation of how the dialectic of desires underlies social progress and decline. That is, he would seek to explain how an inner penchant for doing without funds or fame works to bring about a redemp-tion in Christ Jesus that would mean something to this world. Or. to use his terms, he would explain what role ',discernment of spirits" plays in "redeeming" the world: To work out that functional explanation of how discernment of spirits facilitates redemption, we have to express the movements of the good and bad angels in terms that the average person can find in experience; °There are two experi.ences in particular which we must point out. each repr_esent-ing a pull or drawing in consciousness on the side of Christ's standard. First- is the experience of intending the truth. This experience relates to an extremely broad range of objects, and yet, as experience, it is quite distinct from many other kinds of inner experience. To "intend the truth" means to want to know reality, to search for answers to questions, and to respect the truth when we find it. This intending, this search, this respect, pulls against a counter-drift in us which settles for simple answers, for impressive words, for tricky, solutions, and for comforting illusions. Second is the experience of intending the good. This too relates to a ¯ broad range~ of objects and yet is quite a distinct feeling in consciousness. We ;'intend the good" when we weigh options for the sake of discovering what is objectively the best choice. In doing so, .we pull against ~ counter-tendency which seeks the merely satisfying, the subjectively comfortable. To want the truly good often means to choose a more painful path, but a better .one. And the criterion we use .to tell which is better is not only an examination of pros and cons.but also and chiefly, I believean expe-rience of fulfilled,or frustrated desire in our hearts. With these two experiences in mind--the intention of truth and the intention of good we can analyze how an "everything opposite" attitude works redemption in concrete situations, and how a failure to be strongly contentious prevents redemption from taking over. Let me illustrate this in several different areas of life. Some Illustrations To a great extent we all have difficulty with our feelings. Speaking for 352 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 myself, whenever I meet a stranger at a party, I seem to listen to our conversation with one ear and to my inner apprehensions with the other. It doesn't work very well because I often say things I immediately feel foolish about. Just when I hope to make a good impression, 1 feel I make a bad one. This happens because my mind was not fully on what we were talking about. I was also thinking about how to feel accepted, and so I blurted out things unrelated tothe topic of our conversation. Things are not much better with friends either, particularly when it comes to dealing with anger. When a friend gets angry with 'me, I want to strike back or at least defend myself. But neither reaction helps me under- 'stand what has gone wrong, and this failure to understand only makes it that much harder to work out an amicable solution. The ideal, of course, is to be able to acknowledge the truth of my own feelings and the feelings of others. This means workifig both to name the feelings and to pinpoint what the feelings are focused on--not an easy task for anybody. Negative feelings in particular are often repressed, and yet they are our best indicators that something of value is going ~ wrong. Because they are meant to alert us to harm, we should take them seriously, making every attempt first to acknowledge them and then to understand what they are all about. But this requires a no-compror~ise attitude towards those, pulls inside us which spring to "defend our poor egos. Those pulls create illusions which seduce us and cushion us against taking the sometimes painful responsibility~of facing the truth and doing our real best. For another illustraton of how dedication to reality and to objective worth helps bring order and sense into an ot.herwise ch~aotic situation, consider how communities tend by nature to be self-centered. As a com-munity we may be very realistic and quite responsible where each other are concerned, but this does nothing to prevent us from being aloof and oblivious to outsiders. Every community tends to reinforce its owri biases, to congratulate itself on its victories, and to speak a language full of value judgments 'that no one questions. Members seldom wonder whence its resources come and where its garbage goes. They seldom question whether or not its enjoyments are paid for by the sweat and malnutrition of foreigners. Unfortunately, for all the values inherent in community, there is very little in community itself that directs it beyond itself. These powerful gravi-tational forces toward self-centeredness can be found in communities of all sizes: couples in love, large families, ethnic groups, labor unions, nations-- and even religions. But all such communities live among other communi-ties. They contain subgroups, and they belong to larger groups. Wittiout some cultural commitment to the larger, more common good, subgroups Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola / 353 cut back their good will and limit their creativity to what benefits them-selves alone. So the normal demand for large-scale cooperationis regularly sacrificed for some small-scale gain: first for this and then for that faction. Sadly and ironically, once this game of competition between groups begins, none of the groups benefits as much as each of them might have, had they all shared their wits and their good will with one another. Historically, self-centered communities have enlarged their vision and commitments only when they have been provoked from within by a prophet. Usually.the prophet gathers a select community of like-minded people together to become the leaven in the dough. But before the prophet speaks a single word or calls a single disciple, he or she bbeysan inner pull toward truths and values that run counter to the prevailing attitudes. Prophets have reputations for being contentious. They get that way because they already fight an interior battle between illusions that are familiar and truths that are strange, between old, accepted ways of treating people and new, more dignified ways. So they cry out to the people they love, calling them to realize that they are playing a no-win game with other groups. When prophets are successful, a reform movement will get under, way only insofar as it deals with the community's concrete relations to other groups. The measure of its success will be the degree to which it demolishes any self-centered myths which its own authorities may propagate in the name of community strength or unity. But its members have to wake up intellectually. Only when they recognize these myths in themselves and wage an interior war against them will this peaceful revolution be~in. For my final illustration, I want to highlight the inner struggle that takes place in what we call the deep thinkers--scientists, historians, philo-sophers, and theologians, both the professional and the amateur. Contrary to popular opinion, deep thinkers often do not have an astronomically high I.Q. They work slowly but steadily. Nor are they born "bright;" they become aware of long-range implications and complex problems only by a steady fight against their minds' drift toward the easy answers. Again, you can see my point. On the one hand, we all experience a pull " toward a bogus form of knowing; the kind that relies on memory, rhetoric and bluffing. On the other, we also experience an "entirely opposite" pull towards asking honest questions, and searching for the best explanations, fighting against any worry that someone else .might beat us to a solution. We all have felt the desire to belittle intellectual inquiry and to disregard journals of opinion; even as we secretly wish we had the staying power to work for a more than surface understanding of the world around us. We cannot excuse our anti-intellectualism on the grounds of mental 3~4 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 dullness. The so-called "dull" can be extremely bright when it comes to practical and immediate concerns, Here lies the road to pride again. On its own power alone; our intelligence would n~ver stop asking questions about anything, no matter how remote. But when, the fruits of our reflections are not immediate and palpable, then a prideful concern for our own welfare forces its way in and compels our intelligence to surrender. We yield to the forces in our consciousness that move us toward easy answers, silly responses, and. make-believe solutions. While we all recognize these pulls in ourselves, we should notice what happens when psychologists, histbriians, political scientists, economists and the like give in to them. Their shortsighted solutions to human crises 'make life more miserable not just for themselves but for countless other human beings. Yet no jury indicts them for malpractice. No preacher denounces them from the pulpit. Instead, we give them the benefit of the doubt that ~'they did their best." But upon their interior obedience to the canons of truth--an obedience monitored by themselves alone--hangs the future of anyone whom their theories, and policies' touch. From this large-scale perspective, we can see better that every time someone settles for'merely partial answers to problems, he or she usually introduces a solution which itself needs fixing by someone else. Of course, this is only a general explanation of how bad situations get worse, but it does explain how a contentious spirituality can work to better the world we live in. Only an "everything opposite" attitude towards this downhill intel-lectual slide will regularly bring about .intelligent and long-range solutions to the problems that beset God's people. Conversion to the Dialectical Attitude "Everything opposite" means a conversion--one that requires some-times anger but often gentleness to maintain. It means recognizing that oners interior is a battleground of two opposing kinds of movements, whose :outcome has direct manifestations in one's psychic health, one's prophetic spirit, and one's intellectual freedom. These, in turn~, have a direct .effect on:family harmony, social justice and on the broad philosophies and theories that shape out: human institutions. The conversion ought to be total,.because there is no event in our everyday lives which does not derive its meaning from how we responded to it. As Christians, we stand in a peculiar relationship to.~this conversion to a dialectical .attitude. The functional explanation givrn above, of how dis-cernment of spirits works to create a better world, could stand on its own without any~reference to Christ Jesus. This is an asset insofar as Christians can share a vision, a language, and a praxis with non-Christians--which Extremism in Ignatius of, Loyola we must certainly do if we are to tackle issues of social justice with any seriousness. Such cooperation can even be the beginning of a dialogue about ultimates in truth and goodness leading to the Good News of Christ Jesus. But a functional explanation by itself is also a liability insofar as Christians might forget to name just who it is who moves the soul to face the truth and do one's true best. So it seems incumbent upon theologians and catechists to express the age-old doctrine of redemption in Christ Jesus and the Spirit in functional categories drawn from the dynamic~ of con-sciousness and the workings of history. This is a large order, but fortu-nately one already, being taken up by many today. A final word of caution: Such an "everything opposite" attitude is not learned overnight. It takes time to name which inner experiences corres-pond to "intending the truth" and which to wishful thinking; which to "inte,,nding the good" and which to securing the merely comfortable for ourselves. And we learn by our mistakes. But Without the slightest exag-geration we can say that in this matter there should be no compromise. Only an extremism about our inner movements can give us the day-to-day balanced judgment and love that redeem the world. ~ NO~ES ~ General Examen. This document was written by Ignatius for the purpose of teaching candidates for the Society, of Jesus what Jesuit life Would require. It was meant to be given:in a retreat setting, requiring some serious meditation. See George E. Ganss, ed., The Constitutions of the ~Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970) pp. 75-118. My references above refer to paragraph numbers. 2Spiritual Exercises. See Louis 3. Puhl, ed., The Spiritual~Exercises of St. Ignatius (Wes.tminister, MD: The Newman Press, 1959), References are to paragraph numbers. 3Joseph de Guibert, The Jesuits: Their St~iritual Doctrine and Practice (Chicago: Loyola UniverSity Press; St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1964) p. 141. The Spirit of Holiness Living in Us E. A. Ruch, 0 M.L Father Ruch teaches philosophy, at the National University of Lesotho (P.O. Roma 180; Southern Africa). He has just completed a study leave in France. Spiritual theology distinguishes three stages in our progress towards holiness: The purgative (cleaning) stage which consists essentially in a breaking-away from sin, not merely out of fear of divine punish-ment, but out of a God-given awareness of God's love for us; The illuminative stage in which we grow in a personal understanding of who God is, an awareness which always culminates in the realiza-tion that "God is love"; The unitivestage which is a personal love-response to God's love for us and thus a gradual transformation of ourselves into true children of God sharing in his divine nature. Holiness is infinitely more than just being a good man, someone who meticulously obeys the law of God. We live in a redeemed world, a world already reconciled with God, but in which we are called to "become the goodness of God" (2 Co 5:21). This is why the standards of holiness which Christ sets us are much higher than those of "the Scribes and the Pharisees" (see Mt 5:20-47). Jesu~ has come to complete the law, to raise it io a level which we cannot attain by our human strength. Indeed, he expects us to be "perfect as (our) heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). He wants us to become "fully developed, complete, with nothing missing" (Jm 1:4). He wants us to "be holy in all [we] do, since it is the Holy One who has called [us], and Scripture says: be holy, for I am holy" (I P 1:IS). We must not, therefore, confuse a high standard of moral purity with holiness. Moral purity is only the starting poittl on our way to holiness. The Spirit of Holiness / 357 Beyond our human struggle for justice and goodness, there is a gift from God which transcends all human limits. Let me try to exploin this by means of a parable. Let us suppose a diver who, having stripped off his everyday clothing, is preparing tb plunge into the pool. Undressing does not make a diver. It is only when he has left terra firma and confided himself tothe new element, viz. water, that his life as a diver begins; for it is only a beginning. Let us now follow the diver's experience under water. He begins to discover the marvels of the underwater flora and fauna: a truly new world opens: to him. True, he also begins to discover the dangers of this life, but the beauties he discovers are more than a match for the risks incurred. More and more he finds pleasure in diving and in exploring this new world. And yet, every once in a while he has to return to dry land to refill his compressed air cylinders and to take a rest in his own, more familiar world. Let us now imagine such a diver being gradually transformed into an "aquatic animal," i,e, into a kind of new man, capable of living, breathing and working under water in perfect ease, not even wishing to return to his formerly familiar, yet highly toxic atmosphere of nitrogen, oxygen and carbon dioxide. Life under water has become a "second nature": it is now his "real" life and his original one would be considered as "abnormal." He is now a new creature "fully developed, complete, with nothing missing" who no longer wants to leave his newly acquired mode of existence, and who finds "life outside" meaningless, boring, heavy and poisonous. He now "lives and moves and has his being" in God. He has "become like him, because he sees him as he really is" (1 Jn 3:2). We have here a neat image of growth in holiness. First of all, God, through his Spirit living in me, prompts me, urges me to "take the plunge" and to be '~baptized in the Spirit." He then begins the long process of revealing the beauties and risks of life in and with God. Finally he initiates that transformation into his own life which will only be completed in eternal beatitude, but which is already partially shared through faith in the joy of discovering the life of God in us. I would now like to show the role of the Holy Spirit in these three stages. The Purification When John the Baptist preached the metanoia; q.e. the "turning-around," the "about-face" which is required in our sinful life, he strength-ened his preaching with the effective symbol of immersion into the water of the Jordan as a sign of personal cleansing. But John also knows that he cannot achieve more than mere moral purity. He is still a man of the Old ~1511/ Review for Religious; May-June, 1986 Testament ("The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is" (Mt 11:11))~ We are called to much more than moral purity and John proclaims his role as Precursor of the one who will baptize "with the Holy~Spirit and withfire" (Mt 3:11). The symbol of fire a~ an element of purification is well known throughout the Scriptures: More effectively than water, because it goes to the hearvof the matter and not only to its surface, fire cleanses from within. It burns away the impurities as one,burns the chaff after winnowing (Mt 3:11-12).~ .~ Fire as a ~ymbol of the Holy Spirit is, of course, well known from the Pentecost event and the "tongues of fire." Another purifying force in spiritual life is the loneline.ss, suffering and silence of,the "desert experience." Like the people of Israel who have to be purified of their Egyptian habits through their forty years of wandering through the desert, so also Jesus himself was "led by the Spirit out into the wilderness to-be tempted by the devil" (Mr 4::1; Mk 1:12 and ~Lk 4:1). The Spirit will invite us too from time to time to retire into solitude and silence, because this is the precondition for hearing the voice of God which would become inaudible in. the hustle and bustle of our daily, life in our,~nervous and tension-filled world. And just as fire is painful when it burns away impurities, so ~the solitude of the desert is frightening. St. Teresa of Avila insists very strongly on the importance of "the grace of quiet" for spiritual life (Way of Perfection, ch. 33). St.John also points at another necessary purification: to bring the desires of the flesh under th~ control of the spirit: Unless ~ man is borfi through water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. What is born of the flesh is flesh; what is born of the ,.Spirit is spirit (Jn 3:5-6). Thus purification is part of a p(~ocess of acq~iiring a new life (see v. 3). "l:he real life is not the one given by the flesh; only'"the Spirit. gives life" (J~n 6:63). Above all, purification from sin is a condition for receiving the gift of ¯ theo~Holy Spirit. Therefore Peter announces to the people at Pentecost: You must repent .and everyone of you must be baptized in the name of Jesus 'Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Ac 2:38). In reverse, the Holy Spirit is specifically given to the Apostles to,enable them to forgive sins: Receive~the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive they are for-given; ofor those whose sins you retain, they are retained (Jn 20:22). ~' We are fighting a running battle against the forces of evil. We are the The Spirit of Holiness / 359 accused in an endless courtcase in which Satan is "the accuser of'our brethren., who accuses them day and night before God"(Rv 12:10). But this a~:cuser has been "thrown down" (ibid) by the Holy Spirit who is our Advocate. Because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth while the devil is the "spirit of disorder" ( I Jn 4:6) and of "falsehooi:l ~ind murder" (Jn 8:44).~ In our fight with the spirit of evil who tries to turn us away from God. the Advocate "will be with you forever, he will be continually at your. side. he will be m you" (Jn 14:17). ~hus the Holy Spirit appears also as the one who sustains us in our temptations, who provides us with arguments to beat the devil. Even when we fire facing evil earthly powers, we need have no worry, because "ttib Spirit of your Father will be speakir~g in you" (Mt 10:!8-20). Like a good advocate he will prove the "opposition" wrong(see Jn 1~:9-11), by convict-ing the world ofits sinfulness and consequently of the fact that without Christ's victory the world is meaningless and lacks all ultimate purpose. In his epistle to the Romans St. Paulexplains this purifyi~ng role of the Holy Spirit by stating that the Hrly Spirit takes people who are living by "the law of sin and death" which is characterized by "the misdeeds of the body" (Rm 8:1, 13)and he makes them "spiritual": Your ~nterests. however, are not in the unspiritual, but in the spiritual. since the Spirit of God has made his home in you. In 'fact. unless you possessed the Spirit of Christ you would not belong to hire. Tl~ough your ¯ body may be dead it is because of sin; but if Christ is in you, then your spirit is life itself because you have been justified: and if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, then he who raised Jesus from the dead will give life to your own mortal bodies through his Spirit living in you (Rm 8:9-10). The Spirit does not only transform our soul and cleanse our mental habits our thoughts, our feelings, our emotions he also "spiritualizes" our bodies to prepare them for the resurrection. Our bodies became mortal "because of sin"; the cleansing from sin through Christ's "Spirit living in us" is the cause of our immortality.~ What are the spiritual transformations which the Spirit operates in our souls? St. Paul opposes the spirituality and holiness of the Old Testament and that brought about by Christ's Spirit living in us. The Spirit transforms our "spirit of slaves" livingin fear, into a "spirit of.sons" who have been "set free"(Rm 8:14-23; see 1 Jn 4:17-18). It is a new attitude with regard to the law that takes hold of us: we do right not because_ we are afraid, but because we love. On the other hand, and for the same reason, i.e. love, this freedom is never licentiousness, because we are living in the Spirit: If you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit . . (Ga 5:16). In other words: the presence of the Spirit in us does not justify bad behav-ior, but should enable us to avoid bad behavior. Hence also Paul's claim to the Corinthians that no on~ can curse Jesus and be in the Spirit of Jesus (1 Co 12:3). Paul's whole apostolic life was dominated by his struggle to make the new converts realize this new dimension brought about by faith in Christ: an externally imposed Law is replaced by the promptings of the Spirit from within (see Ezk 36:26-27; Jr 31:33). The true Christian is doing good because the Spirit moves him from within his very freedom. Even our faith in the Gospel is the work of the Spirit and it is this faith, rather than outward observances that justify us (Ga 3:2). It is a pagan (or an Old Testament) attitude to do good or to refrain from doing evil out of fear of hell, or in order to curry God's "favors," rather than out of inner convic-tions growihg out of love. A Christian attitude stems from the Spirit within us and from our readiness to let the Spirit become active and effective in us and through us. Since the Spirit is our life. let us be directed by the Spirit. We must stop being conceited,, provocative and envious. (Ga 5:25). The Spirit which he sent to live in us wants us for himself alone (Jm 4:5); (literally: 'The Spirit. yearns, earnestly for our love'). No one who has been begotten by God sins: because God's seed remains inside him. he cannot sin when he has been begotten by God (1 Jn 3:9).2 But God will not sanctify us without us. It is from within our freedom that God acts and lives in us. We must collaborate with his promptings, for God has an infinite respect for our free will. Nor is it sufficient to have received, the Holy Spirit once and for all, like some kind of seal, medal or honorific title. He has to live in us. We have to grow in him by letting his influence in our lives become more and more continuous and pervasive. It is precisely this growth which supposes an inner cleansing. We cannot serve two master~; at the same time: one must diminish if the other is to grow. As long as our life is cluttered with worries, with sins, with ourselves, with the world, with pleasures and so forth, there is little room for God to grow in us. He is not going to sneak into our life, as we gradually clean out the house just ahead of him. We have to make a clean sweep before God arrives. But we are afraid of the apparent spiritual poverty, of the empti-ness, of the echoing hollowness within us. The Spirit gives us the courage to empty ourselves (see Ph 2:7) so.that we might experience God making irruption into our life. The blood of Christ, who offered himself as the perfect sacrifice to God The. Spirit of Holiness / 361 through the eternal Spirit, can purify our inner self from dead actions so that we do our service to the living God (Heb 9:14). In short: the first level of the Spirit's action demands, but also produ-ces an inner cleansing, a reorientation of our lives, an openness to the guidance of the Spirit and a readiness to be transformed. Without this there simply cannot be any.growth in spiritual life, because without it we are not capable of putting ourselves into a listening attitude towards God, and without_ this listening attitude there will not be that inner enlighten-. ment whereby God wants to make' himself personallY known to us. Enlightenment and Learning Si. John presents us the Holy Spirit as the'Spirit of truth: "I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate3 to be with you forever, the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot receive since it neither sees nor knows him; but you know him, becauSe he is with yo.u, he is in you. [he] will teach you everything and remind you of all 1 have said to you" (Jn 14:15-16, 26). This theme of the "world" which cannot see God ,recurs often in John. The world is blind to God because it is too much concerned with other, rela, tively unimportant things. The Word of God is the true light which many people refused to receive (Jn 1:9-13). But there are also those whb, throughout the history of salvation, have let themselves be enlightened by the Spirit of God. The Holy Spirit inspired the prophets (see Lk 1:67; Ac 21:4; 28:25;.) and the writers of Scripture. He guides the lives of those he inhabits (see Lk 2:25-26) and he leads Jesus himself through his ministry (Lk 4:14, 18)oand makes him,utter prophetic words (Lk 10:21). Indeed it is the Spirit who, in the form of a dove, points at the Messiah as the voice of the Father is heard at.Jesus' baptism (Mt 3:16-17; Mk 2:10; Lk 3:21-22i Jn 1:32-34; ~1 Tm 3:16). It is by the Holy Spirit that Jesus performs his m.iracles (Mt 12:28). In short: the Holy Spirit makes us become aware of Jesus,as the Messiah and of his redemptive role. This is why the Gospels are so 6utspoken against those who "sin against the Holy Spirit" (Mt 12:32; Mk 3:28; Lk 12:10) because this sin blinds us to the revealing and illuminating role of the Holy Spirit without which we cannot reach God nor pr.ogress in holiness. ("No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" 1 Co 12:3). In other words, the sin against the Holy Spirit makes God's essential work in our life, viz. our sanctification, impotent. Jesus has proclaimed the Good News to us: he is the Good News, but we are incapable of fully grasping what this means unless the .Spirit opens our eyes: It is for your own good that I am going, because unless I go, the Advocate 369/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 will not come t6 you; l~tit if I do go, I will send him to you . I still have many things to say to you, but they would be too' mucfi for you now. But " when'~the Spirit of trt~th comes he will leadyou to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himselfbut will only say what he has learnt . Jn 16:7-15 (passim). ~ " ~- We clearly see the effect of the Spirit on the apostles at the moment of the Pentecost event!~ Now, the coming of the Holy Spiritdoes not imply the revelation of neff doctrines, but the creation of an inner receptivity and capacity for underst~hding the Good N~ws of Christ in a more personal way:. You have been anointed by the Holy One, and have all recei'bed the knowledge'., you do not need anyone to teach you; the anoiming he gave you teaches you everything; you are anointed with truth, not with a lie. (1 Jn 2:20, 27). Thus the Holy Spirit generates faith, the ability to listen and to hear, in us and she convicts the "world" of its basicsin of unbelief (see Jn 8:21, 24, 26; 15:22). In reverse he convinces the believers of Christ's divinity (see Jn 10:33; 19:7) because l~y returning to the Father in his human bo.dy, Jesus shows that his true home is in heaven (see .In 13~ 1; 20:17). Finally the Spirit gives to the believer the unshakable confidence in the power of God who has overcome the empire 6f evil. Thus, by revealing the glory of Christ and enabliiig us to b~elieve in Christ, he makes us listen to him who reveals to us the glory of the Father. The Acts of the Apostles have been called the "Gospel of the Holy spirit." They are full of incidents in which the Spirit illuminates the minds and heart~of~the apostles and of the believers. Let us me~'ely'mention a few of them almost at random. He gives to the believers the gift of speech in foreign tohgues (Ac 2:4), he inspires the words of the apostles (Ac 4:8.31), he gives Stephen an, irresistible power of argumentation against his detrac-tors (Ac 6:10) as Jesus himself had predicted (Mk 13:11; Lk 12:H-12). On several occasions the Spirit gives people the ability of predicting the future (Ac 21i,~; 11:28); he guides the decisions of the Church in admitting pagans (Ac-8:29, 40; ~10:19, 44-47; 11:12-16; 15:8),'in limiting the relevance of the Jewish laff (Ac 15:28) and in determining the mission of Paul to the pagans (Ac 13:2 sq; 16:6-7; 19:1). Occasionally he gives very precise g~uidelines for th~ apostolate (Ac 8:28). But ~bove all the Holy Spirit reveals himself internally to those who receive him, usually in baptism, by giving them the power of praising God in words-inspired by God himself [the gift of tongues](see Rm 8:26-27; Ac 9:31; 10:44; 19:1-7.). Indeed one could say that the Holy Spirit was clearly the power behind the expansion of the ~early Church. The Spirit of Holiness / 363 This power is usually revealed and released in a prayerful atmosphere. Throughout Acts, one gets the impression of a people moving about in an inner spiritual dynamism, open to God, ready to expect any kind of mira-cles. Of course they are_ ordinary human beings like you and me. They sometimes become almost obsessively enthusiastic (like the Corinthians), while others (like the Gala~tians) remain fearfully attached to traditions. In this they do not differ all that much from the Churchof today! But there does seem to be a genuine desire throughout the early Church to let the Spirit rule the life of the faithful. St. Paul himself tells us that he is not bothered by his weakness, precisely because he" knows that he can always let ttie Spirit and the power of God Speak and pray in and through him (Rm 8:26-27). He knows that he is not preaching his own ideas nor by his own power, but by the power of God (1 CO 2:3) and that "the Spirit reaches the' depth of evet:ything, even the depth of God" (1 Co 2:10). This is why he chides Timothy for his timidity: God's gilt was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love. and self-control (2 Tm 1:7).~ And~just as the Spirit give~'to the preacher the words to preach, to the prophet the message to proclaim and to the teacher the doctrine to teach, so also he gives to the listeners the inner .power to understand with heart and mind, and the wisdom to apply what has been taught in their personal life: May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of ~lory, g~ve you a spirit of wisdom and perception of what is revealed, to bring you to full knowledge of him (Ep 1:17,). Out of his infinite glory, may he give'you the power through his Spii'it for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ .may live in you through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love. you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth . (Ep 3:16-19). By thus gradually growing, in God's wisdom, we will be filled with the '~utter fullness of Ggd" (ibid v. l~J). ,, But God ca~ only fill us with his wisdom, !f we have let ourselves be emptied of the wisdom of the "~orld." Hence,the purification stage.must precede and will itself grow in _proportion to the gradual~growth in "enlightenment." We can only grow "little by little" (Ws 12: !-2). Secondly we mus~ play our fa,irt by taking a humble, listening and receptive attitude in sile~ace ~nd. patience. And thirdly, the Holy Spir!t comes to each one of us personally, but always within the context of and for the sake of the whole Church, the Body of Christ (see 1 Co 14), because "God is Love" and v~hatever he does in us and through us,~in on13~ take place within a 364 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 love-relationship, This is why love is the greatest commandment, but also the greatest of all gifts of the Spirit: the gift which not only includes all others, but also the only one which is to remain forever (1 Co 13). We 'do not receive the Holy Spirit for our exclusive personal enjoyment, but for sharing him with others through apostolic action. As Jesus says to his apostles: You will r~ceive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, and t~en you will be my'witnesses (Ac 1:8). More than half the passages in the Acts which speak about the Holy Spirit mention him in a directly apostolic context. This is also why the Holy Spirit is presented in such an intimate relationship with the Church that Peter can say: "It has been decided by the Holy Spirit and by ourselves." (Ac 13:28), while the Book of Revelation affirms: "The Spirit and the Bride [= the Church] say: 'Come'"-(Rv 22:17). A final point worth mentioning in the present context: If it is true that the illumination by the Spirit is proportional to our emptying ourselves of our own ideas, then it is easily understandable why the poor in spii-it are given preference in the kingdom of heaven (Mt 5:3),~ why "these things" have been hidden frrm the worldly wise and revealed to children (Mt 11:25) and why only children can enter the kingdom of heaven (Mt 18: !-4). Union in Love The Christian religion is not merely an ethics, i.e. a list of actions to be done or avoided. Jesus' struggle with the Pharisees (see Mt 5:17 sq and 23:13-32), as well as St. Paul's arguments to show the powerlessness of the Law to save us (e:g. Rm I-7) are proof enough of this. Nor is Christianity merely a beautiful doctrine dogmatically proclaimed a~d faithfully but blindly accepted: If I knew all the mysteries and all science, and if I had the fullness of faith. but without love, lam nothing (! Co 13:2). God wants to call us to a new life. I~e wants to change our identity from within, not merely our mode of external behavior. He wants us to be reborn "through water and the'Spirit'' (Jn 3:5) so as to enable us to enter into the kingdom of heaven. It is through the Spirit of Goal that this "rebirth" as children of God takes place: The Spirit himself and our spirit bear united witness that we are children of God. And if we are children we are heirs as well: heirs of God and coheirs with Christ, sharing his 'suffering so as to share in his glory (Rm 8:!4-17; see Ga 4:6~7). The Spirit is our passport for our new. "ciiizenship," because we have been The Spirit of Holiness / 365 stamped with the seal of the Holy Spirit of the promise, the pledge of our inheritance which brings freedom to those whom God has taken for his own to make his glory praised (Ep 1:13-14). Of course in this life we still know God only "dimly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12), and yet e~,en in this limited way, God already reveals himself to us from within, from his presence in us through the Spirit: We know that he lives in us by the Spirit that he has given us (! Jn 3:24). We can know that we are li~ing in him and he is living in us, because he lets us share his Spirit (! .In 4:13). The Spirit is .an" experienced reality. Even the places and buildings where the early Church was gathering "were shaken" when they were "filled with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 4:3 I) and the Holy Spirit is often described as "falling on" people (Ac 10:44; 11:15). It is like falling in love: it is an experience difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it. The kingdom of God is therefore not merely something to be expected in the life to come. We are already living in this kingdom, which can be identified with equal right with the Holy Spirit and with the Church, provided the Church is not merely seen as an administrative structure. St. Paul refers to our transformation into children of God as something already realized: We were buried with [Christ] in baptism [and we]'have been raised up with him" (Col 2:12-13). However, this new reality demands, right here and now, a new mode of life: Put off your old nature which belongs to your former manner of life. and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new nature, created after the likeness of God iri true righteousness and holiness (Ep 4:22-24). We are incorporated into the Spirit (Rm 8:1, 9. We are "temples of God"( 1 Co 3:16; 6:19). We have been 'Zraised up with Christ" (Col 3:1). It is for this reason that all "Paul's moral instructions are so severe. Moral instructions and calls to holiness are one and the same for Paul, and they center, as .one can expect, on the two commandments of love of God and~ love of neighbor. Because of the Spirit dwelling in us, we are able to love God and to love our neighbor with the same kind of love with which God himself loves us: The love of God is poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who is given to us (Rm 5:5). The first thing that changes in our new, Spirit-filled life, is our relation- ~166 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 ship with God in prayer: The book of Genesis tells u.s .of Enoch~ who was livinga life of such 'intimacy with God that he was absorbed into God, that he vanished in him (Gn 5:24). The original familiarity with God as des-cribed in paradise is re,stored. We learn to relate to God truly a~ our Father because ,"God has Se.nt the Spirit of hi~ Son into our hearts crying 'A~bba! Father!'" (Ga 4:6; .see Rm 8:26). Our ~vorship is no longer tied to places, times, rituals, and'words, but becomes "worship in0 spirit a.n~d in truth (b~ecause) God is °soirit" (Jn 4:24). Above' all, our worship ~s no longer dominated by fear because ° love will come ~o perfection in us when we can face the day of judgment without fear; because eVen in this worm we have 'become as he is. In love ~there is no fear', but fear is driven out by perfect love" (1 J'n 4:17-18; she "~ Rm 8~21~29)~ So to pray in the Spirit of God (see Ep 6:18) means to pray in an attitude of fearless love: God is love and anyone who lives in love lives in God and God lives in him (l Jn 4:16).~ This means thaLGod lives in us-and we live in him, but also that as a result weare transformed into God's essentially loving nature. This transforma, tion will not only reveal itself in our relationship with God, but also in our relationship with our fellowman. We are living a lie if we claim to love God, to be a child of God, while not loving our neighbor: We can ,be sure that we are in God only when the one who claims to be living in him is living the same kind of life as Christ lived (1 Jn 2:5-6). Now God's love for us was revealed when God sent into ,the world his' only Son so that we could have life through him . Since God loved us' so much~ we, too should love one another . As long as we love one another, God will live in us ~'nd h~s love will be complete in us. (I Jn 4:10-12). This whole,newdoving relationship is planted inu~ by the Holy Spirit living in us and e.nabling us to grow in him and thus to become more and more ,like Christ whose .Spirii he is. ¯ If we live by the truth .and in love, we shall "grow in all ways into- Christ ~, who is the head by whom:the whole body is fitted and joined together. "~ So the body grows until it has built itself up in love (Ep 4:15-16):~ . This body,,building itself up and. growing in love, is the Church. This is also why the gifts and charisms are to be used for "the common good" (see 1 Co 12:7; 14:3r4, 26) and are of no account without the cha,rity which~gives The Spirit of Holiness / 367 them meaning (1 Co 13). Jesus wanted us to be perfect "as our heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48) and he summarizes the whole Law and the Prophets in the commandments of love (Mt 22:40). Our growth in perfec, tion can therefore only be a growth in this twofold, love and this growth is essentially God's work because we have been chosen by the prox)ident purpose of God the Father to be made holy by the Spirit, obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled by his blood (I P 1:2). The lives of the Saints are beautiful illustrations of this powerful and effective dwelling of the Holy Spirit in the soul. In all their differences, they have struggled through these three stages of growth in holiness. Some have put more emphasis, on their sinfulness and on the need for inner purifica-tion; others have spent most of their life trying to penetrate deeper and deeper into the knowledge of the mysteries of God, not only with their intellect but with their heart and their whole being: All have been led towards a life of intimate