Suchergebnisse

Many duplications. ; Numerous newspaper (?) clippings of poems, sentiments, etc., pasted on random pages. ; Consists of various pamphlets and reprints bound into 7 volumes. ; --Military drill in the public schools--The sportsman.[dup]--The mournful story of the cost of decoration with dead birds and their plumage--Some medical opinions.[dup]--The Pasteur Institute.[dup]--The anti-toxin.[dup]--To junior members, wearing the badge of the International Kindness to Animals Society ; Reasons for the organization of the International Kindness to Animals Society--Importance of humane education--Vivisection in relation to politics--A letter to children.[dup] ; v.7. Protection of animals / G. Angell, 1874--The reality of human vivisection, 1901--A bill for the regulation of scientific experiments upon human beings in the District of Columbia : S.3424 / Mr. Gallinger, 1900--Vivisection in the District of Columbia / 55th Congress, 3d session, Senate, 1899--Human vivisection, a statement and an inquiry, 3rd ed. rev., 1900--Is science advanced by deceit? / A. Leffingwell, 1900--Scientific chicanery, does it pay?, 1900--Some mistakes of scientists / A. Leffingwell, 1900--Does science need secrecy? / A. Leffingwell, 1900--For pity's sake.[dup]--Vivisection and dissection in schools--Ten rules for the treatment of animals--A plain talk.[dup]--The International Kindness to Animals Society, general circular--Some medical opinions concerning vivisection--Vaccination is the curse of childhood [2 copies]--The principal props of vivisection / P. Peabody--Abstract.[dup]--Facts about vivisection which cannot be denied--Is vivisection painful?--An appeal to every woman--Confessions of a vivisector--Light to benefit.[dup]--The feast of Bacchus / A. Walton--Experimental research versus altruism / M. Lovell, 1893--Medical opinions on vivisection--Addresses by the Reverend Washington Gladden, D.D. and the Reverend John Henry Barrows, D.D. at the twenty-third annual meeting of the American Humane Association Columbus, Ohio, October 24-26, 1899--El zoofilo venezolano, año 2, num. 13, nov. 1898 / Sociedad Protectora de los Animales--Tuberculosis in cattle--Voci autorevoli contro la vivisezione / Società di anti-vivisezone--Pasteur or Buisson? [dup]--Cosmos-philosophy.[dup]--The sportsman.[dup]--The sin of cruelty--Hereditary.[dup; 2 copies]--Compulsory vaccination, 1899--Startling accusations / A. Leffingwell, 1899--A plea for animals / B. Underwood--The poor tramp cat / Mrs. Fairchild Allen, 1900--The real sportsmen's show / J. Greene--A law to help the boys / A. Bowles, 1892 ; v.6. Amos Hunt and the steel trap / Mrs. Fairchild Allen--Vivisection and the drug delusion, 7th ed. / comp. by J. Scott, 1893--A dangerous ideal / A. Leffingwell--Does vivisection need concealment? / A. Leffingwell--Abstract of the Report on vivisection adopted by the American Humane Association Sept. 26, 1895--Professor Frog's lecture / M. Lane--A physician on vivisection / T. Parvin, 1895--Abstract.[dup]--Vivisection and the drug.[dup]--Abstract.[dup]--The vivisector at the gates of Herat / E. Preston, 1896--Shall we teach cruelty as an art? / by a physician--A key to "St. Bernard's," entitled Dying scientifically [advertising flyer]--The brutalization of childhood--The tendencies of the turf / C. Crandall, 1894--Certain other duties / G. Trumbull--Shall we teach.[dup]--Professor Frog's.[dup]--For pity's sake--Infernal intellect / G. Angell--The London Institution for Lost & Starving Cats, 1898--The craze for killing, 1895--Abstract.[dup]--About poor puss [dup]--French and English vivisection, 1890--Shall we teach.[dup]--Paul Faber, surgeon [review]--Objects and methods ; rules for members ; council / Independent Anti-Vivisection League--Our humble associates / G. Walker, 1891--Home of Rest for Horses--The stealthy advance of vivisection / E.B.--A plea for mercy / J. Craigen--The check-rein / G. Angell--Shall we teach.[dup]--A dangerous ideal [dup]--The cruel vivisector [dup]--Do the interests.[dup]--Some fruits of vivisection / E. Berdoe--Our meanest.[dup]--A physician.[dup]--Vivisection and the drug.[dup] ; Pasteur's statistics [dup]--An institute of preventive medicine at work in France, 5th ed. / F. Cobbe, 1891--A bird's-eye view of a great question / S. Trist, 1894--Physiology in our.[dup]--Do the interests.[dup]--The proposed biological .[dup]--Vivisection / G. Hoggan, 1875--Anaesthetics and vivisection--Dr. Bell Taylor.[dup]--A pathetic incident.[dup]--Mrs. Fenwick Miller on vivisection, 1894--The worst thing in the world / M. Lovell, 1895--A letter from Prof. Lawson.[dup]--Concerning vivisection / A. Leffingwell--My doctor tells me that there is very little vivisection now in England / E. Bell--My doctor tells me that Koch discovered a cure for consumption by means of experiments on living animals--My doctor tells me that the most important discoveries in medicine have been made by means of vivisection--My doctor tells me that experiments in England are only performed on animals under anaesthetics--My doctor tells me nothing about curare--For pity's sake [dup]--The restriction of vivisection / A. Leffingwell--Mr. Lawson Tait on operating for cancer of the larynx, 1892--Reply to the Century / E. Berdoe, 1891--Strain at a gnat, swallow a camel / C. Spencer, 1892--Vivisection and personal rights / M. Caird--The savagery of vivisection--Vivisection / M. Caird--The savagery.[dup]--The anti-toxin treatment of diphtheria / M. Caird--Vivisection and personal.[dup]--The sanctuary of mercy / M. Caird--Sacrifice.[dup]--Vivisection as a test-question.[dup]--The savagery.[dup]--Vivisection, an appeal to the workers / M. Caird--Vivisection [letter] / M. Caird, 1895--The anti-toxin.[dup]--Is cruelty.[dup]--Vivisection [dup] ; v.5. A letter from Prof. Lawson Tait, F.R.C.S., respecting experiments on living animals, 1892--The skylarks in an East End market / R. Rudd--Do the interests of mankind require experiments on living animals? / A. Barry, 1892--The utility, cruelty & morality of experiments upon animals / by a hospital physician--Letter from surgeon-general.[dup]--Why the vivisection act is objected to / J. Clarke, 1885--Vivisection and anaesthetics--Vivisection useless and unjustifiable / A. Astley--Extracts from two letters from Dr. George Hoggan on vivisection--Five questions to working men about vivisection--The utility, cruelty.[dup]--Five questions.[dup]--Why the vivisection act.[dup]--Extracts from two letters.[dup]--Vivisection useless.[dup]--Vivisection and anaesthetics [dup]--Lawson Tait, F.R.C.S., etc. on the discussion on vivisection at the church congress, 1892--The Inspector's report.[dup]--Our meanest crime / J. Clarke, 1892--The discussion on vivisection at the church congress / L. Tait, 1892--Do the interests of humanity require experiments on living animals? / F. Arnold, 1892--Sacrifice, noble and ignoble / M. Caird--Is cruelty for a purpose justifiable? / M. Caird--The hospitals & vivisection--Extract from "Medical education." [dup]--Light to benefit mankind--What is vivisection [dup]--Concerning human.[dup]--Mixed plumes / E. Phillips--As in a mirror / H Greene, 1898--At the annual meeting of the Church of England Society for the Promotion of Kindness to Animals. / F. Lemon, 1897--A woman's question /B. Atkinson, 1896--An egret hunter's narrative / D. Bennett, 1896--Osprey, or, egrets and aigrettes / W. Hudson, 1896--The trade in birds' feathers, 1898--Legalised torture / M. Caird--An animals' friend [dup]--What I saw at the Pasteur Institute / T. Williams, 1894--Pasteur's statistics / E. Bell--Hydrophobia, the truth about M. Pasteur's prophylactic, 3rd ed. / B. Bryan, 1895--The Pasteur Institute.[dup]--The cruel vivisector.[dup]-- ; --Sacrifice / New York State Anti-Vivisection Society--An appeal from the horses.[dup]--The churches and vivisection.[dup]--The London Buisson Institute / F. Pirkis, 1896--Cancer experiments on human beings / F. Cobbe--About poor puss [dup]--Anti-vivisection, Nov. 1897--Pasteur or Buisson, cruelty, poison, uncleanness or the pure and kindly vapor bath, which shall we follow?--Vivisection and hospital.[dup]--Additional opinions concerning vivisection--Illinois Anti-Vivisection Society [membership flyer]--The truth concerning.[dup]--The Pasteur Institute.[dup]--American vivisections [dup]--Col. Ingersoll on vivisection ; Opposed to vivisection, additional opinions of physicians and surgeons, 1890--Opinions of leading physicians and surgeons concerning vivisection--Vivisection as a method of education in American colleges and universities--Where shall our boys be educated?--The interests of humanity in connection with vivisection / W.W. ; v.4. For pity's sake / C. Taylor, 1893--Letter from Surgeon-General C.A. Gordon.to the Secretary of the London Anti-Vivisection Society--The proposed biological laboratories in Chicago / F. Cobbe--What is vivisection / P. Peabody--The fairy tales of science / F. Cobbe, 1896--Society for the Protection of Birds prospectus, 1889--An unscientific view of vivisection / W. Paget--Bishop Barry and Canon Wilberforce on the morality of vivisection, 1891--Medical experiments on human beings / Dr. Koch, 1893--Sir R.T. Reid, Attorney-General, on vivisection, 1891--Some truths about vivisection / M. Caird, 1894--The Hon. B. Coleridge, M.P., on the Inspector's report and the Brown Institution, 1888--Rt. Hon. J. Stansfeld, M.P., on experimental institutes and the Vivisection act, 1894--The hope of the universe / G. MacDonald, 1893--The Right Rev. Dr. Ridding, Bishop of Southwell, on vivisection: its inutility, immorality, and cruelty, 1893--The proposed Pasteur Institute at Chelsea Bridge / M. Caird--The Bishop of Manchester on gambling, vivisection, and covetousness / J. Moorhouse, 1891--Flaws in the act / E. Bell, 1892--Physiology in our public schools / A. Leffingwell--The extermination of birds / C. Spencer, 1897--Strange but earnest.[dup]--The poor lobster / Mrs. Fairchild-Allen--To my dog.[dup]--An animals' friend [dup]--The birds' land of altruism / J. Chase--Humane leaflet no. 3 / G. Angell--Condensed information / Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals--Humane leaflet no. 7 / G. Angell--Anti-vivisection, various issues, 1895-1897; leaflets glued inside, mostly dup., including: Extract from a letter from J.H. Thornton.Deputy Surgeon General.to Mrs. Marion C. Jordan.1896--Vivisection as a test-question at elections / M. Caird--Anti-vivisection, Mar. 1895: leaflet: The cruel vivisector, Pasteur, of Paris / P. Peabody, 1893--Anti-vivisection, Apr. 1896: leaflet: The brutalization of childhood ; Cosmos-philosophy, a new book.by E.D. Buckner [adv. flyer]--The mournful story of the cost of decoration with dead birds and their plumage--The wearing of egret.[dup]--The great cat problem--The retribution of Spain--Facts for clergymen--For pity's sake, by Mrs. S.N Carter [adv. flyer]--Medical opinions concerning vivisection--Human vivi.[dup]--An appeal to teachers--Attention! letter to a medical scientist--Bird Day--Vivisection and hospital.[dup]--Dovetrot's.[dup--Is not kindness righteousness?--To my dog.[dup]--The anti-vivisection exhibit at the Paris Exposition--Woman's responsibility toward the animal creation / M. Lovell--Who are the ultimate victims?--The sportsman: let us go out and kill something--The retribution.[dup]--The sportsman.[dup]--The mournful story.[dup]--Cosmos-philosophy.[dup]--Mode of killing dogs by carbonous oxide gas--To thoughtful.[dup]--Protection of animals / G. Angell, 1891--The noble mission of the humane societies / D. Swing, 1886--Bands of mercy information / G. Angell, 1891--A wise fish--Is it nothing.[dup]--An appeal to teachers [2 dups]--Something for Christian.[2 dups]--Extract from "Medical education." [dup]--A neglected obligation [dup; bd. backwards]--Darkest science--The horse-clipper's.[dup]--Cruelty in stables [dup]--Which is best? [dup]--Facts for drivers [dup]--Hints on.cows [dup]--The noble mission.[dup]--An appeal to Christians on the subject of vivisection / H. Harris. ; --My lady's plumes / E. Hough--The wearing of egret plumes / M. Lovell--An appeal to every woman--Bands of mercy--Collections / J. Andrews--Vivisection / Mrs. M. Rouse--[Docking horses] ; Revising the work of God--Dovetrot's way / Mrs. Fairchild-Allen--To elevate morals: Bird Day, Animal Day / R. O'Hanlon ; Good citizens the object of schools--Expert opinion and public sentiment on check reins--The horse-clipper's costume ; The cruelty and danger of clipping horses--Which is best? Whips or brains? Cruelty or kindness?--Cruelty in stables--Facts for drivers--Vivisection of horses [dup]--Opinions of leading physicians and surgeons concerning vivisection--A few words to those.[dup]--Is it nothing to you?--Human vivi.[dup]--Concerning human vivisections / P. Peabody--Something for Christian endeavor people to think of--Extract from "Medical education." [dup]--Vivisection in the United Kingdom, 1893--The wearing of egret plumes [abr.] / M. Lovell--A ministerial oversight--Cruelties of seal killing / W. Gavitt--A neglect of ministers and Sunday school teachers--A neglected obligation--Hints on the care of cows--Early lessons in kindness or cruelty / A. Fogg--Kindness to animals Sundays--An appeal from the horses to their owners and drivers--Supplement to Anti-vivisection: an exposition of vivisection / S. Thomas--The reasons that have led to the demand for the total prohibition (instead of the restriction) of vivisection--The black art, 1892--The reasons that have led.[dup]--The black art [dup]--Cruelty in stables [dup]--Kindness to animals Sundays [dup]--An appeal to teachers--Nature study, Bird Day, Animal Day / R. O'Hanlon ; Good citizens the object of schools--A burning question--Vivisection and hospital.[dup]--Medical opinions on vivisection---Vivisection of horses [dup]--The New England Anti-Vivisection Society, 1898--Hereditary cruelty ; The degredation and retribution of Spain--Collections [dup]--Human vivisection [dup]-- ; Dates of the principal events connected with the anti-vivisection movement, [1883?]--Dr. Bilde.[dup]--The Rev. H.R. Haweis as an anti-vivisectionist, 1887--The lady of Greynton Grange / B. Channing, 1883--Commentary on the cruelty to animals act, 1876 / B. Coleridge, 1883--v.3. Cure for hydrophobia--An answer to Dr. Keen's address entitled Our recent debts to vivisection, 2nd ed. / C. White, 1886--Fairly cornered--The great value of birds ; Queries for sportsmen / C. Hamlin--Strange but earnest questions / S. Beard--An animals' friend / M.C.J.--To my dog Blanco / J. Holland ; Our dogs at home and astray / Mrs. Fairchild-Allen--The Illinois Branch of the American Anti-Vivisection Society / Mrs. Fairchild-Allen--The Illinois Branch of the American Anti Vivisection Society--Mr. Lawson Tait on vivisection, 1882--A letter to children / M. Lovell--How to treat cats / M. Lovell--About poor puss / A. Fisher--A few words to those who believe in the restriction of vivisection--Mollie White-Foot's vacation / A. Smith--Bird Day in the schools / T. Palmer, 1896--The truth concerning vivisection, as gathered from eye witnesses, 1896--The Pasteur Institute, 1894--American vivisections--The sixth annual report for the year ending Oct. 31st, 1896, of the Dept. of Mercy of the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union--To bicyclists, a humane appeal, 1895--Quotations from great thinkers concerning vivisection--Humane education the remedy for cruelty--Vivisection and hospital patients--Warm or cold?, 1897--To thoughtful teachers--The sister charities / Mrs. Fairchild-Allen, 1896--A plain talk in behalf of some of our best friends / Mrs. Fairchild-Allen--An animals' friend [dup]--The sister.[dup]--A few words to those.[dup]--Human vivisections / P. Peabody, 1896--Cure for hydro.[dup]--Vivisection of horses / P. Peabody--Professional laxity of morals / P. Peabody, 1896--American vivi.[dup]--Vivisection, its barbarity, its uselessness, its wickedness ; v.2. The curse of cruelty / D. Morris, 1886--Address of the Bishop of Oxford, at the annual meeting of the Victoria Street Society.1883--From the essay on vivisection / J. Macauley--Extract from "Medical education in America" / H. Bigelow, 1871--Two views of the true vivisector, by two who ought to know--Vivisection : how should Christians regard it? / H. Bernard--Two views.[dup]--The dog's appeal--Gambling in vivisection--Dr. Bell Taylor on vivisection--The hero and his dog--Two views.[dup]--Tender vivisection / F. Cobbe, 1881--Experimental pathology explained and exemplified / J. Clarke, 1886--Tender vivisection [dup]--What can we do?--A pathetic incident in a physiological laboratory / J. Clarke, 1884--Dr. Bell Taylor.[dup]--What can we do? [dup]--Vivisection / G. Hoggan--Extract from "Medical education." [dup]--Ferrieristic brain surgery--Address to the working class / R. Barlow-Kennett--Vivisection / G. Hoggan [dup]--Extract from "Medical education. [dup]--A pathetic incident.[dup]--Gambling.[dup]--The dog's appeal [dup]--The hero.[dup]--Dr. Bell Taylor.[dup]--Vivisection / G. Hoggan [dup]--A pathetic incident.[dup]--Gambling.[dup]--Extract from "Medical education." [dup]--Dr. Bell Taylor.[dup]--Address by W.R.D. Blackwood, M.D., 1888--Address by W.R.D. .[dup]--Extracts from an address by Canon Wilberforce, 1887--Address by W.R.D. .[dup]--Vivisection / A. Leffingwell, 1884--The curse of cruelty [dup]--Brain surgery and vivisection : three letters, 1884--The Bishop of Oxford and Prof. Ruskin on vivisection / J. Mackarness, J. Ruskin--The Lord Chief Justice of England on vivisection--Twelve years trial of the vivisection act (39-40 Vict., c77) / M.R.C.S.--The lower animals : God's ownership, man's vicegerency [sic] / D. Wright, 1888--Experimenters in check / B. Bryan--Specimen of physiological.[dup]--Scientific medicine [dup]--Cardinal Manning as an anti-vivisectionist, 1881--Vivisection : how.[dup] ; Vol.1. Vivisection, a sermon / H. Bernard, [1883?]--The scientist at the bedside, 1882--Professor Ferrier's experiments on monkeys' brains, 1885--Vivisection and the treatment of patients / S. Harris, 1885--Duty to man before duty to beast / Lord Bishop of Oxford [J. Mackarness], 1883--Breaches of the Vivisection Act / B. Bryan, 1888--The total prohibition of vivisection / Earl of Shaftesbury [A. Cooper], 1879--The torture chamber of science / E. v. Weber, [1879?]--Monkeys' brains once more / J. Clarke, [1888?]--English and American callousness--Report of proceedings at a meeting held at Southampton, October the 16th, 1878, by the Society for Protection of Animals from Vivisection--Anaesthetics and vivisection--Four reasons for supporting the bill for the total prohibition of vivisection--Vivisection endangers human life--The fallacy of restriction applied to vivisection / F. Cobbe, 1886--An independent opinion on vivisection / W. Lilly, 1885--Meeting at Stoke Bishop / F. Cobbe, [1883?]--Have pity, 1882--What is cruelty?, 1885--Half measures--M. Pasteur's researches / B. Coleridge, 1887--The scientist at the bedside [duplicate]--Specimen of physiological instruction : a vivisection lecture in Paris described by an eye-witness, 1886--Letters of head school-masters--Vivisection endangers human life [dup]--Half measures [dup]--M. Pasteur's reseaches [dup]--Scientific medicine--Pompey's peril / C. Hoey--The total prohibition .[dup]--Anaesthetics and vivisection [dup]--Letter from a lady student of vivisection / B. Lindsay, 1883--Dr. Bilde : a typical vivisector, 1887--The new benefactor of humanity / F. Cobbe, 1884--A pleasant proposal, 1884--Four reasons for supporting.[dup]--Have pity [dup]--M. Pasteur's researches [dup]--Fide et amore / C. Pirkis--Scientific medicine [dup]--An independent opinion.[dup]--Letters of head.[dup]--Pompey's peril [dup]--Janus the second / F. Cobbe--The inspector's report and return for 1887 / B. Bryan, [1888?] ; Mode of access: Internet.

Issue 70.4 of the Review for Religious, 2011. ; Unique Approaches Building Community Focus on Joseph Potpourri quarterly 70.4 2011 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 PHONE: 314-633o4610 ¯ FAX: 314-633-4611 EMAIL: reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯WEBSITE: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious o P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. PHONE: 877-467-8687 ¯ FAX: 218-740-6437 ¯ EMAIL: fulfill@superfill.co~n Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. ©2011 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal 6r internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournal of Catholic Spirirualit)j Celebrating 70 Years Editor Associate Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Michael G. Harter SJ Garth L. Hallett SJ RosemaryJermann Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm .Judy Sharp Advisory Board Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 70.4 2011 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 364 .377 unique approaches A Tale of Two Scandals: Cornelia Connelly as Nouvelle H~loi'se Barbara Newman tells the remarkably similar stories of two married women who lived six centuries apart, became nuns and then abbesses only through the instigation of their husbands, suffered considerably, and faced numerous canonical difficulties in the founding of their orders. building community The Hum of Being: " Spirituality for Leadership Beatrice M. Eichten OSF describes the ministry of community leadership as a pilgrimage and explores the various spiritual realizations that flow from it--such as the openness to Spirit that comes through moments of emptiness and detachment, and the gifts of loving and being loved. Architecture and Religious Life Thomas A. Krosnicki SVD discusses the impact that the architectural design of buildings--in particular community residences--can have to the benefit of religious life and those they touch by their life and ministry. Review for Religious 386 404 408 .422 426 focus on Joseph Be Saints: Pathway to a Holy Life Joel Giallanza CSC gathers wisdom from St. Andr~ Bessette, whose name is forever linked to that of St. Joseph because of their obvious similarities. Both were simple laborers through whom God chose to do extraordinary things; both knew poverty and suffering; both experienced exile. Above all, both point out a pathway to holiness because they remained faithful to whatever God asked of them. St. Joseph in Focus: Husband of Mary and Guardian of Jesus John M. Samaha SM reminds us why we honor St. Joseph by giving us a simple portrait of the quiet, often overlooked member of the Holy Family. potpourri Lighting Our Modern Spirit: Pope John Paul II's Luminous Mysteries Carey Ellen Walsh explores the theology and the spiritual gift of John Paul II's meditation on the rosary in his apostolic letter Rosarium Virginis Mariae. She focuses on how one of John Paul II's most intimate reflections tends to the hunger in our souls. Multiple Sclerosis: A Gift Marian D. Frantz IHM reflects on how she has coped with multiple sclerosis and, in spite of the physical challenges and fears that accompany it, has come to understand it as a gift. Cremation: A Path to Protect Mother Earth Brian Jordan OFM calls us to rethink our attitudes and practices about how we remember our loved ones through burial or cremation and to develop an attitude of reverence for "Holy Mother Earth" in the process. departments 433 Scripture Scope: The Bible and the Liturgy 438 Book Reviews 444 Indexes 70.4 2011 prisms Erone intense week at the end of the summer, the population of Madrid swelled by more than one million souls. Crowds of young men and women came with the devotion of pil-grims; they participated in workshops and service projects; they baked in the heat, endured a rain-soaked and windswept prayer vigil, and coped with the chaos resulting from poor organization. They sang and prayed together, and blogged about their experiences all over the Internet. Such enthusiasm. Such energy. It all brought back memories of an earlier World Youth Day when I accompanied a group of Jesuit novices to Toronto in 2002. We, too, gath-ered with hopes and dreams, coped with crowds and long waits for something to eat. We, too, spent a restless night on the hard ground soaked through by a cold rain waiting for the final Mass celebrated by the pope. Drenched to the bone, I kept asking myself "What am I doing here?" But the enthusiastic singing of the young people drowned out the question. But I must be realistic. M}- perspective is not that of a young pilgrim. I just sent out invitations for a celebration of my golden Jubilee as a Jesuit. My novitiate classmates and others celebrating Review for Religious anniversaries of entrance and ordination (25, 50, 60, and 70 years of presence and service) are planning on celebrat-ing because we have much to celebrate. We have worked and taught, and borne the heat of the day in many different contexts. But as I look back on 50 years of religious life, I must admit that I have asked more than once "What am I doing here?" Sometimes the question arises because I feel too insignificant to make a difference. More often the ques-tion arises from a sense of wonder and awe about the ways God has chosen to work through me. My choice to enter religious life was well intentioned, but made with total naivet& The ministry for which I pre-pared myself (teaching high school) never materialized. The skills I learned in the process, however, equipped me to serve as an administrator, a forinator, and an editor. Through the years and with much prayer, I have tried to make myself available to be sent where I can best be used. I am privileged once again to live with our young men in formation. Their energy can wear me out, but their enthusiasm is contagious. They show that the church is ever young, ever new, always ready to grow in experience and wisdom. The seeds of faith are sprouting anew in many places. And in other pl~ces fields that have been harvested any number of times still produce with God's grace. The young pilgrims have now returned home from Madrid and are back in school or settling into their regular routines. But the memories and graces they carry with them will make their lives anything but routine. And as those of us further along the age continuum continue our trust walk with the One who has always accompanied us, we take to heart the prayer with which Benedict sent forth the young people from Madrid: "May no adversity paralyze you. Be afraid neither of the world, nor of the future, nor of your weakness." 341 Michael G. Harter SJ 70.4 2011 BARBARA NEWMAN A Tale of Two Scandals: Cornelia Connelly as Nouvelle Hdlo~se unique approaches 342 This is a tale of two scandals. It is a story of two women who courageously defied con-vention, yet submitted tragically and without reserve to the men they loved. It is a story of two ambitious and charismatic men, whose meteoric rise in the church was surpassed only by the suddenness of their fall. It is a story of two priests married to nuns--and not only nuns, but the founders of congregations-- who remained indelibly married in the public eye. From Romanesque France to Victorian England, so much had changed yet so much remained the same, especially where female subordination was concerned. So, finally, this is a story about the longue durde in Catholic attitudes to marriage, gender, and women's religious life. Barbara Newman is professor of English, Religion, and Classics at Northwestern University. Her address is Northwestern University; University Hall 215; 1897 Sheridan Rd.; Evanston, IL 60208. Reviev2 for Religious My first, more familiar narrative concerns a Frenchwoman born around 1100. Heloise, of high though illegitimate birth, received a superb educa-tion at the convent of Argenteuil. Raised by her uncle Fulbert, she was granted the rare privilege of private lessons with a famous philosopher, Peter Abelard, who was teaching in Paris. We all know what happened next: Abelard and his pupil fell in love. Their steamy affair ended in Heloise's pregnancy, Fulbert's horrified rage, a clandestine marriage, Heloise's rash denial of the union, and Abelard's castration at the hands of Fulbert's hit men. Given the fame of both lovers, the end of their :affair was a cause cglkbre. Finding the pity of his stu-dents even harder to bear than the scorn of his ene-mies, Abelard became a monk at Saint-Denis, though not before compelling a reluctant but obedient Heloise to take the veil at Argenteuil. Their son Astralabe was left with Abelard's sister on a farm in Brittany.~ But the lovers' conversion to religious life fueled more scandals. Abelard, who did not suffer fools gladly, had a gift for making enemies. At Saint-Denis, his 'historical research threatened to deconstruct the monks' patron saint, who also happened to be the patron of the French monarchy. This controversy led to cries of treason and landed Abelard in such trouble that he had to flee by night. Next he ~tried the vocation of hermit, :for which he was totally ufisuited, and soon wound up teaching again at a new foundation he called the Paraclete. Here too he got in trouble, partly because his ever-vigilant enemies objected to his oratory's dedication. In .the meantime, Abelard was charged with heresy at the Council of Soissons and forced in 1121 to burn his book on the Trinity with his own hands. Eventually he managed to be named abbot of the backwater monastery of Saint- 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals 344 Gildas, in his native Brittany, but fared no better there. By his own account, his monks tried to kill him with a poisoned chalice. Heloise too was dogged by scandal. Despite her past, she was elected prioress of Argenteuil. But in 1129 the powerful Suger--abbot of Saint-Denis and no friend to Abelard--had Heloise and her nuns evicted on charges of immorality. These charges may or may not have car-ried a grain of truth. It is possible that Heloise's regime was lax, though it is certain that Suger had his eye on the nuns' property; and he mobilized the king, the bish-ops, and the papal legate to enforce his takeover.2 At this juncture Abelard reentered the picture, offering the nuns his now-vacant oratory of the Paraclete. Gossip contin-ued to buzz: if Abelard visited, detractors claimed that he could not live without his mistress, while if he stayed away, they charged that he had abandoned his wife. A few years later, when he published his autobiography, Heloise responded with impassioned fury, lambasting his neglect at the same time that she avowed her undimin-ished desire. But despite the stormy beginning of their correspondence, the two eventually made peace. Abelard endorsed Heloise's teaching role and warmly praised her learning. At her request he wrote numerous works for her nuns.3 Not least, he authored a rule for the Paraclete, although it seems not to have been observed and signifi-cantly contradicts Heloise's own rule--a point' to which I shall return. When Abelard was again condemned for heresy in 1140, by an even more blatantly rigged council, it was Heloise who secured proof of his absolution and arranged for his burial, soon afterward, at the Paraclete. Surviving him by twenty years, she was.buried at his side. My second narrative belongs to the nineteenth cen-tury. Cornelia Peacock, born to an elite Philadelphia family in 1809, lost her parents in childhood.4 Raised by an aunt who gave her a superb private education, at 22 she married a clergyman, Pierce Connelly. The Connellys moved in 1831 to Natchez, Mississippi, where Pierce had been named rector of an Episcopal parish. At the birth of their son Mercer, his godfather gave Cornelia a slave as a christening present.5 Though Pierce was well-liked in his parish, the honeymoon did not last. Caught up in a wave of anti-Catholic senti-ment sweeping the nation, he decided to resist it and better inform himself, with the surprising result that he felt called to convert. Cornelia, though shocked at first, loyally followed. As she wrote to her sister, "against my prejudices and in spite of the horrors which I have always nurtured for the Catholic faith, I am ready at once to submit to whatever my loved husband believes to be the path of duty.''6 In fact, after Pierce resigned his parish and delivered his farewell sermon, Cornelia was the first to be received as a Roman Catholic. Pierce waited to make his abjuration in Rome itself, on Palm Sunday 1836, with pomp and ceremony. The Connellys soon became the darlings of the British recusant aris-tocracy in Rome, where they remained until a finan-cial crisis forced them to return home and look for work. Pierce found a teaching post at a Jesuit school in Louisiana; Cornelia joined him as a music teacher. By now the couple had four children, but one daughter died in infancy and their two-year-old son met with a tragic accident. Fearing that her happiness was too great, the devout Cornelia had asked God to demand some sacrifice of her. Only a day later the little boy, playing with the dog, tumbled into a vat of boiling syrup.7 After two days and nights of agony, he died in his mother's arms. 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals But this was only the first of Cornelia's sorrows. Soon afterward, while she was pregnant with their fifth and last child, Pierce announced that he had discerned a call to the Catholic priesthood. This time Cornelia did resist, but as soon as she realized how serious her husband was, she released him, which entailed her own consent to a monastic vocation. Returning to Rome, the couple had a private audience with Pope Gregory xvI, and Pierce was ordained with surprising speed in 1845. As for Cornelia, she became a postulant at the Sacred Heart convent of Trinit~ dei Monti, bringing her two youngest children with her. But she was not destined to take vows there. In 1846 Bishop Nicholas Wiseman, soon to become Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, called Cornelia to England, where he wished her to found an order of nuns to educate English Catholic girls. Thus, before the end of her novitiate, the 3 7-year-old Cornelia Connelly, American wife and mother of three, became--not of her own accord, but by the deci-sions of her husband and her bishop--the first English monastic foundress in two hundred years. At this point the Connelly saga becomes so tumultu-ous that I can give only the barest summary. Cornelia's Society of the Holy Child Jesus (SHCJ) suffered more than its share of growing pains--lack of resources, litigation over property, internal discord, hostile chap-lains, and increasing strain between Cornelia and her superior, Cardinal Wiseman. These troubles were compounded by the "no Popery" agitation of a ,public deeply-fearful of Catholic emancipation. Mat Cornelia had least expected, however, was Pierce's rapid disil-lusionment with his new faith. Unsuccessftil in his bids for advancement in the church, ihe missed his wife and resented Wiseman's ban :on conjugal visits. So the frus- Review for Religious trated Pierce made two hostile, if contradictory, moves in quick succession. First, he wrote a spurious rule for Cornelia's order, which he circulated in Rome without her knowledge. Second, he pulled the children out of their schools and took 'them to Italy as hostages, with a new demand that Cornelia renounce her vows and return to him. Heartbroken but determined, she refused. The apostate Pierce thereupon sued his former wife in the Court of Arches for restitu-tion of his conjugal rights.8 The case of Connelly v. Connelly dragged on from 1849 to 1851, much to the glee of journalists.9 In 1850 a judge ruled in Pierce's favor, declaring that a papal~decree of separation had no force in England and leaving Cornelia to face imprisonment or a . forced return to her husband. While appealing to the Privy Council, she kept a suit of secular clothes in her cell at all times in case she had to flee the realm. Pierce meanwhile scandalized British Catholics with his apos-tasy, even seeking refuge for a time with the fanati-cally anti-Catholic Henry Drummond, a wealthy peer who led an apocalyptic sect. Eventually he returned to Italy, where he spent the rest of his life writing anti- Catholic tracts and serving as an Episcopal minister in Florence. Cornelia won her appeal on a technicality, but she never saw her eldest son again, for Mercer died at twenty of yellow fever. The younger children, Before~ the end of her novitiate, Cornelia Connelly, American wife and mother of three, became the first English monastic foundress in two hundred years. 347 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandal~ Adeline and Frank, remained with their father in Italy. He managed to estrange them permanently from their mother, returning her letters unopened. But in spite of all this, the Society of the Holy Child Jesus flour-ished. At Cornelia's death in 1879 it had six convents and schools in England, three in America, and one in France.~° Amazingly, Cornelia Connelly's case for saint-hood was opened in 1959, and in 1992 she was declared Venerable--the first step toward canonization. The Positio or formal presentation of her case is the first in history to be written by a woman.~ Since no one has ever proposed Heloise for saint-hood, except in the cult of romantic love, why do I call Cornelia Connelly a nouvelle Hgloi'se? I suggest this com-parison to probe more deeply into the case of a woman who filled the roles of wife, mother, nun, and abbess, not in succession but in conflict. Legions of women have become religiously active in widowhood, but few if any have faced down so public a scandal caused by living husbands, while simultaneously trying to establish their monastic authority. In the rest of this article, I will compare Cornelia's struggles with Heloise's apropos of three issues: sexuality, motherhood, and the authority of an abbess. In the France of the trouvOres, one could speak of sex more freely than in Queen Victoria's Britain, but Heloise would have been scandalous in any age. To dis-suade Abelard from their ill-starred marriage, she made a case for free love, claiming that .she would rather be called his mistress'(arnica) than his wife--and even if Augustus, ruler of the world, had asked her to be his empress, she would prefer to be Abelard's whore (scortum)--a word she chose deliberately for its shock value.~2 In Heloise's eyes, the true prostitute was the Review for Religious respectable wife who married not for love, but for security and money. As if these ideas were not scandal-ous enough, after ten years as a nun she confessed that she still felt sexual yearnings, even during Mass, and declared that she could never forgive God for Abelard's castration.13 This was no mere private avowal, but a rhe-torical performance before an imagined if not actual public. Medieval letters were never truly "private," and contemporary documents show that Heloise's arguments were well known in French clerical circles.14 Romantics (including my younger self) have often been dismayed with Abelard for refusing to respond in kind.15 But how could he? Neither his castration nor the couple's vows were reversible, so Heloise had either to find a way of coping or face a lifetime of misery, ending in her damnation. Abelard thus faced the.unenviable task of cajoling her to love Christ, her new Bridegroom, in his stead. If his tactics seem ham-fisted to our age, in his own they were supremely pragmatic. When Heloise said that she would gladly follow Abelard to hell; that her "heart was never my own, but was always with you"; that in every decision she had sought to please him, rather than God--it was not from marital duty that she spoke.16 A self-consciously clas-sical lover, she even took the nun's veil with the cry of a pagan heroine on her lips.17 In Cornelia Connelly we see nothing of the. sort. If she too ended by trans-gressing her culture's cherished feminine ideals, it was not by her choice. Yet in displaying obedience to her beloved, she vied with Heloise. To please Pierce, she braved her family's disapproval; left home for the dis-tant, culturally alien South; abjured her Protestant faith (a drastic step in the 1830s); accepted a life of exile; and finally made the supreme sacrifice of her marriage itself, 349 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals Where Heloise saw ,oppositiOn-; Cornelia saw con]'un ction:, L, vowing perpetual chastity so that Pierce could be ordained. But where Heloise saw opposition--she could obey either God's will or Abelard's, but not both-- Cornelia saw conjunction. As a dutiful Victorian wife, she followed the principle of Milton's Eve: "he for God only, she for God in him." In the end, Cornelia became a far more committed Catholic than the vain and shallow Pierce. Yet she would never have become one at all with, out the conviction that God was guiding her through her husband's will. As she wrote to her sister at the time, Pierce was "all that is estimable and far above what your sister ever deserved or looked for in her husband. It is not for me to praise him, but daily do I thank God for having so blessed me.''18 In entering religious life, both women faced the extraordinary challenge of renouncing their husbands' love at their husbands' bidding. When Heloise pro-claimed her immortal longing, Abelard commanded her to desire him no more, but rather the God who had castrated him. Cornelia confronted the same demand, except that Pierce's self-castration in will alone did not last. So in the end, having fallen genuinely in love with Christ, she had to fight her ex-husband in court to preserve a separation she had never wanted in the first place. Interestingly, it was Heloise who fared better in the court of public opinion. Abelard's friends and even some of his enemies sympathized with her, while later humanists like Jean de Meun and Petrarch admired her eloquence and uncompromising idealism29 Review for Religious Cornelia, on the other hand, fell afoul of both Catholic and Protestant sentiment. The English Catholic hier-archy, impoverished and terribly vulnerable, resented the scandal and expense of "Connelly v. Connelly." As for the Protestant majority, it eagerly believed Pierce's lies and blamed Cornelia for destroying her family. Caught between two patriarchies, faced with incompat-ible demands from husband and bishop, she could win neither public vindication nor private comfort. Her anguish is clearest--and the historical distance greatest--with respect to motherhood. We do not know what it cost Heloise to leave the infant Astralabe in Brittany, but upper-class women of her day often had their children fostered elsewhere, and it was not unusual for widowed mothers to enter monasteries. Moreover, we have good evidence that Heloise never envisaged moth-erhood as a career path. Before her marriage, she had even proposed a novel, feminist version of the old argu-ment that a philosopher should not wed. As she put it, "what husband could ever concentrate on philosophy or scripture and still put up with babies howling. ? What wife could stand the endless mess of children?''2° Later, in her letters of complaint, she never mentions her son's absence among her sorrows. Her only reference to him comes in a letter written after Abelard's death, asking the abbot of Cluny to find the young man a prebend.21 We do not know for certain what became of Astralabe,22 nor did contemporaries care, for motherhood in the twelfth century was not an admired vocation. St. Jerome, often quoted by Abelard and Heloise, had zealously praised mothers who steeled themselves against their children's cries to "become virile" and serve God alone:23 Seven centuries later, wives were no less subordinate to husbands, but the ideal of motherhood had changed 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals utterly. Hence nothing hurt Cornelia's reputation more than the belief, fostered by Pierce, that she had willfully abandoned her children. An anti-Catholic pamphlet in 1853 put it this way: "When Rome once depraves the heart, or bows the will, . . . the fountain of all natural affection has been, by priestly art, so dried up within her--as that she can forget her children whom she has borne, as well as the husband whom she has sworn, before God, to obey.''24 But Cornelia had never con-sented to Pierce's abduction of their children. As soon as she realized that he was using them to blackmail her, however, she swore a solemn vow: "In union with my crucified Lord and by His most precious blood, in ado-ration satisfaction thanksgiving and petition, I, Cornelia, vow to have no future intercourse with my children and their Father beyond what is for the greater Glory of God and His manifest will, known through my direc-tor.'' 2s A few letters to relatives reveal the agony this cost her. In 1854 she wrote to her brother that, initially, "my dear children were as much under my eyes as if I had not left the world till their father broke his word and his promises and stole them away from me. may God forgive him.''26 Four years later she lamented, "Poor dar-lings! I little thought of their having to suffer in this way, while I can do nothing to help them except by prayer."27 Under English law the children belonged to their father, so there was literally nothing Cornelia could do. In any case the church, in stark contrast with secular norms, still preserved its medieval legacy of valuing marital renunciation as the high road to perfection?8 The motif of the "maternal martyr" occurs so often in medieval hagiography that, if anyone had suggested sainthood for Heloise, her separation from Astralabe might actually have bolstered the case.29 Today, how- Review for Religious ever, the fate of the Connelly children poses a major obstacle to Cornelia's cause. It does not help that all three apostasized, though her daughter returned to the Catholic fold after both parents died. Cornelia's pro-moters., must therefore show that she bore the loss of her children as a cross, but--this is the key point--not a cho-sen cross.3° The postulator of her cause did try to revive the maternal martyr topos, citing Jeanne de Chantal as an exemplary saint who demonstrated "heroic virtue" by stepping over her son's protesting body as she departed for the cloister.3~ But most of Cornelia's advocates have shied away from this theme. Her biographers instead link her devotions to the Holy Child Jesus and to Mary, Mother of Sorrows, with her son's tragic death. This dimension of her spiritual life was incomparably deep-ened by the loss of her other children, though her work as a pioneer in girls' education compensated in some degree for the sadness of her own motherhood.32 Finally, I turn to the less sensational domain of reli-gious rules, which define a nun's mission and daily life, because both foundresses had to cope with problem-atic rules composed for them by their former husbands. Heloise had explicitly asked Abelard to create a rule, writing deferentially that "you, through God, are the planter of our congregation, and you, with God, should be the guide of our religious life.''33 Abelard complied, though the lengthy document he produced is an eclectic farrago of the Benedictine Rule, the desert fathers, pas-sages from Jerome, Augustine, and .Gregory the Great, and a few provisions specific to Heloise.34 Differences between this text and her own, more practical rule prolonged an old controversy over the authenticity of Heloise's letters.35 Some of the discrepancies concern fairly small matters, but the most important involve 70.4 2011 Newman * A Tale of Two Scandals lines of authority. On this subject the two rules cannot be reconciled.36 Abelard was profoundly conflicted about gender. Like every cleric of his age, he could toss off slight-ing remarks about the "weaker sex" and denounce abbesses who presumed to govern their nuns--or even monks--without male superiors. Yet in his treatise on the dignity of nuns, he pro-duced the most significant "pro-feminine" tract of the era.37 Some scholars have discerned a gradual con-version to feminism where others see only unresolved tension, but in any case, "~ Abelard's rule for Heloise is so ambivalent as to be unworkable.38 One reason is that he envisages a double community of monks and nuns, an arrangement that was common elsewhere but never established at the Paraclete. On the one hand, the whole community should have a male head or pro-vost, but on the other, both monks and nuns should profess obedience to the female head. Abelard calls her not "abbess" but "deaconess," an exotic early Christian term. He compares the deaconess to a queen and the provost to her steward, who fulfills his lady's will in all things--save that he "declines in what may do her harm.''39 It is hard to see how such an arrangement could have worked in practice. As for Heloise, she might have been happy enough with Abelard himself as her superior. But Abelard was still the abbot of Saint-Gildas, and if he should pre-decease her--which he did--the authority could revert Abelard's rule for Helbis e: is so ambivalent as to ,- be unworkable,, Reviww for Religious to her old enemy Suger.4° So in fact, the Paraclete had no provost. Heloise styled herself abbess, a more pres-tigious title than "deaconess," and exercised the nor-mal authority of that role. Given Abelard's peripatetic life, his reputation for heresy, and his disastrous failure at Saint-Gildas, the Paraclete undoubtedly flourished under her leadership as it could never have done under his. In fact, despite her unwilling entrance into religious life, Heloise proved highly successful as both monastic reformer and administrator. Before her death in 1163, six daughter houses had been founded or attached to the Paraclete, and its property holdings were vast.41 In addi-tion to glowing letters of praise from contemporaries, the popularity of the name "Heloise" in the next gen-eration testifies to the esteem in which she was held.42 Despite the troubles Abelard and Heloise faced in reinventing their relationship, both had a deep integ-rity. Abelard could be intransigent, but he did not lie, and Heloise's gift for placating superiors equaled his for antagonizing them. Thus she was able to attain the sup-port she needed from popes, bishops, lay patrons, and powerful abbots. Cornelia, to her cost, lacked these advantages. On the one hand, she had to endure Pierce's outright treachery, and on the other, a long series of conflicts marred her relations with hierarchs. Less than two years after she founded the first Holy Child convent at Derby, Pierce circulated a rule of his own composi-tion in Rome, prefaced by a claim that "the good Lord had long inspired in [him] the desire to found a little Congregation, with the help of a holy person well known to me and quite obedient (bien docile) to me.''43 But this was far from the case. When she learned of his act several months later, she sent off an indignant protest disavowing any changes he had made to her rule. Nevertheless, the 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals spurious text created so much confusion that at Cornelia's death, her own rule was still not approved. A year later, Pierce was claiming that the Derby convent was "worse than . . . a brothel," hence his first duty was "to rescue my blessed wife from the hands of devils.''44 With a lethal combination of lawsuits, apostasy, anti-Catholic propa-ganda, and his fraudulent rule, Pierce had made it nearly impossible for Cornelia to succeed in the vocation to which his own choice had driven her. It did not help that she and Cardinal Wiseman had a falling-out. Concerned that the Connelly scandal was making the church a laughingstock, Wiseman felt a need for rest and proposed that one wing of Cornelia's new convent in Sussex be converted to a seaside residence for his own use. Fearful of yet more scandal, Cornelia said no, infuriating her old ally. Hence Wiseman refused to support her pleas in Rome, where the authorities stud-ied both Cornelia's and Pierce's rules for years without action, still not realizing why they differed. The English bishops meanwhile dragged their feet, refusing to let the Holy Child nuns hold a general chapter to elect superi-ors. Wiseman insisted that the subsidiary houses should be canonically separate, rather than subject to the mother house4S--a disempowering move that Heloise, in her day, had managed to resist. The final blow came in 1874 when Bishop Danell of Southwark, Cornelia's immediate supe-rior, presented the nuns with a third rule that he himself had written, imposing a hopelessly complex system of governance. Without warning, he insisted that they set their rule aside and observe his for a "trial period" of three years.46 At the end of this time they begged Danell to restore their old rule--beginning with the youngest nun, who declared, "My Lord, it seems to me that the new Rule has been drawn up to correct abuses which Review for Religious never existed, and it does not lead us to love and obey our Superiors.''47 All agreed except Cornelia, who remained stonily silent in humility--or despair. But Danell refused their plea and imposed another three-year trial period, at the end of which the foundress died, her life and work in a shambles. It was not until Pierce's death four years later that Cornelia's rule could again be considered in Rome. Ten years after that, in 1893, it was approved in its original, unaltered form.4s To conclude, then--was Cornelia Connelly a nouvelle Hdloise? The real Heloise, who so vividly imagined her-self as a tragic heroine, turns out to have led a less tragic life than Cornelia. Successful abbess though she was, no churchman could call Heloise a saint. Not only did she defend illicit love and confess to religious hypocrisy, but by the standards that count, she didn't suffer enough-- or at least, not for the right reasons. Though she por-trayed herself as a martyr of love, she recovered from a devastating crisis to be reconciled with her beloved, win the esteem and admiration of her peers, and leave a lasting monastic legacy. But Cornelia--or should I say, the Venerable Cornelia--attained martyrdom on three fronts. As I have shown, she perfecdy fulfilled the medieval type of the maternal martyr, suffering the loss of five children through no fault of her own--three to premature death and three to her husband's perfidy, if we count Mercer twice. We can also call her a "mar-tyr of marriage," like other medieval saints who suf-fered at the hands of brutish husbands. The Connellys might have lived happily ever after if they had remained Protestant--but Pierce's short-lived infatuation with the Catholic Church decreed otherwise. Having first prod-ded his wife toward conversion, he would soon become her relentless persecutor, goading her toward sainthood. 70.4 2011 Newman * A Tale of Two Scandals Finally, Cornelia can be seen as a martyr of the church itself, having suffered nearly as much at the hands of bishops as of her husband. Admittedly, I have had to sim-plify her long, complicated tale. A full and fair account would not gloss over the abrasive side of her character-- or the odd moments of silence where resistance might have been more apt. It would also dwell on the unique difficulties attending the restoration of Catholic reli-gious life in Protestant England.49 Nonetheless, it seems strange that the defiant Heloise won more clerical favor in the twelfth century than the submissive Cornelia in the nineteenth. For twenty-five years after her death, her name remained under a cloud even among her nuns, who felt that the Society's goals were best served by silenc-ing their founder's scandalous memory,s° Returning to the longue durge, however, persecution has shadowed the church's most celebrated reformers; I need only mention Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, and Ignatius Loyola. If not a sine qua non for sainthood, it certainly helps. After all, Cornelia's long-suffering precursor in the sev-enteenth century, the Yorkshire foundress Mary Ward, was declared Venerable only a year ago. In each case, it remains to be seen if time, perseverance, and changing attitudes toward women will finally smooth the path from scandal to sanctity. Notes ~ These events are known to us from Abelard's autobiogra-phy, Historia calamitatum, and his subsequent exchange of let-ters with Heloise. I have cited these from the new translation by William Levitan, Abelard and Heloise: The Letters and Other Writings (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2007). ~ M.T. Clanchy, Abelard: A Medieval Life (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), p. 152. 3 The treatise on the dignity of nuns is Abelard's "Sixth Letter" Review for Religious , in Levitan, pp. 127-69. For his hymns see Joseph Sz6v~rffy, ed., Peter Abelard's Hymnarius Paraclitensis, 2 vols. (Albany, NY: Classical Folia Editions, 1975); a few are translated in Levitan. The Problemata Heloissae (Heloise's questions on Scripture, with Abelard's replies) can be found in J.-P. Migne, ed., Patrologia.Latina 178: 677-730, and his Expositio in Hexaemeron (a Genesis commentary) in PL 178: 731-84. For the sermons see Paola De Santis, ed., I sermoni di Abelardo per le monache del Paracleto (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002). 4 There are now eight biographies of Cornelia Connelly, all but one by members of her Society. I have used the only account by a laywoman: Juliana Wadham, The Case of Cornelia Connelly (New York: Pantheon, 1'957), and Radegunde Flaxman SHCJ, A Woman Styled Bold: The Life of Cornelia Connelly, 1809-1879 (London: Darton, Longrnan and Todd, 1991). I have also consulted an excellent biog-raphy of her husband by D. G. Paz, The Priesthoods and Apostasies of Pierce Connelly: A Study of Victorian Conversion and Anticatholicism (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 1986). For a novelistic account see Sheila Kaye-Smith, Quartet in Heaven (New York: Harper & Bros., 1952), pp. 57-122. s Flaxman, A Woman Styled Bold, p. 18. 6 Cornelia Connelly to Adeline Duval, letter of 17 Oct. 1835, cited in Mother Ursula Blake et al., Positio: Documentary Study for the Canonization Process of the Servant of God Cornelia Connelly (nge Peacock), 1809-1879, 3 vols. (Rome: Sacred Congregation for the Causes of Saints, 1983), I: 79. 7 Flaxman, A Woman Styled BoM, pp. 72-73. 8 This was an ecclesiastical court that, until 1857, ruled on mat-rimonial cases under English canon law. Divorces granted by this court did not permit remarriage. Otherwise, the only way to obtain a divorce was by private Act of Parliament. Positio I: 330. 9 Brendan Larnen's play about the trial, Connelly vs. Connelly (New York: Blackfriars' Guild, 1961), was staged in New York and Los Angeles fifty years ago. See Kenneth L. Woodward, Making Saints: How the Catholic Church Determines Who Becomes a Saint, Who Doesn't, and Why (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1990), p. 267. 1o The Life of Cornelia Connelly, 1809-1879, Foundress of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus, by A Religious of the Society [Mary Catherine Gompertz] (London: Longrnans, Green & Co., 1930), p. 257. As of 1952, at the height of the Catholic educational system, the Society had established four additional schools and convents in England (including Oxford and Harrogate), three in Ireland, one in Switzerland, one in Rome, six in Africa, and twenty-two in the 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals U.S. Kaye-Smith, Quartet in Heaven, p. 118. Many of these are now closed, but the Society has further expanded into Germany and Latin America. See the SHCJ website, http://shcj.org/today_ministries.html ii Woodward, Making Saints, p. 253. The author is Sister Elizabeth Mary Strub, former superior general of the SHCJ. ~2 As recalled by Abelard in Historia calamitatum ("The Calamities of Peter Abelard"), trans. Levitan, p. 17; Heloise, First Letter, in Levitan, pp. 55-56. 13 Third Letter (in the collection, i.e, the second from Heloise), Levitan, pp. 78-79. 14 Giles Consta~ble, Letters and Letter-Collections, Typologie des sources du Moyen Age occidental, p. 17 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1976); Peter Dronke, Abelard and Heloise in Medieval Testimonies (Glasgow: University of Glasgow Press, 1976). 15 Barbara Newman, "Authority, Authenticity, and the Repression of Heloise," in Front Virile Woman to WomanChrist: Studies in Medieval Religion and Literature (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995), pp. 46-75 (pp. 73-74). 16 Heloise, First Letter, p. 61; Third Letter, p. 81 17 According to Abelard, Heloise tearfully declaimed the lament of Cornelia, the wife of Pompey, from Lucan's Pharsalia--"and with these words, she rushed to the altar, snatched up the veil which the bishop had just blessed, and bound herself to the convent in the pres-ence'of all." Historia calamitatum, in Levitan, p. 20. 18 Cornelia Connelly to Adeline Dural, letter of 17 Oct. 1835, in Positio, I: 81. ¯ 19 The letters of Abelard and Heloise were popularized by the poet Jean de Meun, who translated them into French: Eric Hicks, ed., La vie et les epistres Pierres Abaelart et Heloys sa fame: Traduction du XIIIe siOcle attribude i~ Jean de Meun (Paris: Champion, 1991). More famously, he incorporated the lovers' tale into his bestrselling Roman de la Rose, which remained by far the best-known version until mod-ern times. z0 Abelard, Historia calamitamm, in Levitan, p. 15. Abelard cites Heloise in direct speech; she was in turn paraphrasing Jerome's trea-tise Adversus Jovinianum (393), and Jerome was citing a lost anti-matrimonial tract by the pagan Theophrastus, sometimes called "The Golden Book on Marriage." Theophrastus, Jerome, and their numerous medieval heirs all argued that a wise man should not marry; only Heloise extended this counsel to women, as I first noted in "Authority, Authenticity," p. 67. This grammatical nuance was Review for Religious overlooked in the classic translation by Betty Radice, The Letters of Abelard and Heloise (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1974; rev. ed. 2003), p. 14; Levitan corrects the error. 2, Heloise, letter to Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny, ca. 1144-49, in Levitan, p. 273. 2z He probably became a cathedral canon in Nantes, and may later have been a Cistercian abbot at Hauterive: Levitan, Abelard and Hgloi'se, p. 13, n. 26. Abelard wrote a lengthy didactic poem for him, the Carmen ad Astralabium, ed. Jos~ Rubingh-Bosscher (Groningen, 1987). 23 Barbara Newman, "'Crueel Corage': Child Sacrifice and the Maternal Martyr in Hagiography and Romance," in From Virile Woman to WomanChrist, pp. 76-107 (p. 81). 24 Thomas Hatchard, Case of the Rev. Pierce Connelly, 2nd ed. (London, 1853), cited in Judith Lancaster SHCJ, Cornelia Connelly and Her Interpreters (Oxford: Way Books, 2004), p. 250. 25 Notebook of Cornelia Connelly, 21 January 1848, in Positio I: 298. 26 Cornelia Connelly to Ralph Peacock, letter of 1854, in Lancaster, Cornelia Connelly, p. 274. 27 Cornelia Connelly to Ralph Peacock, letter of 18 November 1858, in Lancaster, Cornelia Connelly, p. 274. For a moving treatment of Cornelia's feelings about this loss, see Dorothy Bryant, '!Keeping Vows: Cornelia Connelly (1809-1879)," in Last Words: Imaginary Letters from Real People (2010). Online at http://www.dorothybryant. com/LastWords.html 2s Caritas McCarthy SHCJ, The Spirituality of Cornelia Connelly: In God, For God, With God (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 1986), pp. 73-80. For the history of this idea see Dyan Elliott, Spiritual Marriage: Sexual Abstinence in Medieval Wedlock (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993). 29 See Newman, "'Crueel Corage': Child Sacrifice and the Maternal Martyr." 3o Woodward, Making Saints, pp. 268-70. 3~ Woodward, Making Saints, p. 271. 32 McCarthy, Spirituality; Roseanne McDougall SHCJ, Cornelia Connelly's Innovations in Female Education, 1846-1864: Revolutionizing the School Curriculum for Girls (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 2008). 33 Heloise, Fifth Letter, in Levitan, p. 126. 34 Abelard, Seventh Letter, in Levitan, pp. 170-255. 361 70.4 201 ! Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals 3s For Heloise's rule see Chrysogonus Waddell, ed., The Paraclete Statutes, Institutiones Nostrae: Introduction, Edition, Commentary (Trappist, KY: Gethsemani Abbey, 1987). On the discrepan-cies see John E Benton, "Fraud, Fiction and Borrowing in the Correspondence of Abelard and Heloise," in Pierre Ab(lard--Pierre le Vgngrable: Les courants philosophiques, littgraires, et artistiques en Occident au milieu du XIIe sikcle, ed. Ren~ Louis and Jean Jolivet (Paris: l~.ditions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1975), pp. 469-506 (p. 474). In 1980 Benton retracted his arguments for the inauthenticity of the letters. 36 For discussion see Enid McLeod, H?loi'se: A Biography, 2nd ed. (London: Chatto & Windus, 1971), pp. 219-24; Clanchy, Abelard, pp. 251-60. Heloise's biographer states that she "worked entirely in har-mony with Abailard's wishes" (p. 222), though not slavishly. Abelard's more skeptical biographer says she "ignored" his rule (p. 258). 37 Mary Martin McLaughlin, "Peter Abelard and the Dignity of Women: Twelfth Century 'Feminism' in Theory and Practice," in Pierre Ab3lard--Pierre le V3n3rable, pp. 287-333; Mcuin Blamires, The Case for Women in Medieval Culture (Oxford: Clarendon, 1997), pp. 199-207. 38 See my "Flaws in the Golden Bowl: Gender and Spiritual Formation in the Twelfth Century," in From Virile Woman to WomanCbrist, pp. 19-45 (p. 27). 39 Abelard, Seventh Letter, in Levitan, p. 198. ~0 Clanchy, Abelard, p. 258. 41 McLeod, Hiloi'se, pp. 210-219. 42 Penelope D. Johnson, Equal in Monastic Profession: Religious VVomen in Medieval France (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), p. 234. 43 "Memorial of the Rev. Pierce Connelly to the S. Cong. de Propaganda Fide," 10 February 1848, in Positio 1:299. The original is in French; English translation mine. 44 Pierce Connelly to the Earl of Shrewsbury, letter of 28 Dec. 1848, in Positio I: 307. 45 Wadham, Case of Cornelia Connelly, p. 226. 46 Not only did Danell style himself "Bishop Superior of the Institute"; he also sent his rule to the order's American houses with no explanation. Left in the dark, the U.S. sisters assumed that the new rule was Cornelia's high-handed innovation and refused to obey it, provoking a schism. Review for Religious 47 Gompertz, Life of Cornelia Connelly, p. 235. 48 Gompertz, Life of Cornelia Connelly, pp. 248-250. 49 Susan O'Brien, "Terra Incognita: The Nun in Nineteenth- Century England," Past dr Present, 121 (November 1988), pp. 110-140. so Lancaster, Cornelia Connelly and Her Interpreters, pp. 51-55. Palimpsest Recycling isn't new. When writing was serious, words were costly, vellum was scrubbed, papyrus washed, reused. Sometimes earlier uncials appear in ghostly outline. A Syriac text of Chrysostom reveals a Latin grammar: amo, amas, amat. What comes to articulation has layers beneath the surface deeper than words, runic letters in languages we don't quite understand. Bonnie Thurston 363 70.4 2011 building community BEATRICE M. EICHTEN The Hum of Being: Spirituality for Leadership At the beginning of his ministry, after hear-ing the heady proclamation that he is God's beloved Son, Jesus is plunged into a desert experience. He is tempted by the devil, who invites him to have his physical needs met, to exercise power through the worldly skills of division and manipulation rather than forgive-ness and reconciliation, and to be safe from all unpleasant, negative experiences. Jesus is able to withstand these temptations because he knows who he is. In his baptism and prayer, the truth of Jesus' identity is revealed to him: he is the beloved of God, one in whom God takes pleasure. Knowing who he is, Jesus is able to face the tension between being loved and being hungry/needy, between being loved and being socially powerless, and between being loved and being safe from all negative experiences. 1 Beatrice M. Eichten OSF is community minister/presi-dent of the Franciscan Sisters of Little Falls, Minnesota. Her address is 116 8th Ave. SE; Little Falls, Minnesota 56345-3597. Review for Religiotts When we are elected to leadership in our religious community, we are called forth to fulfill a special role as both spiritual and organizational leader. Such a call is empowering as well as humbling. It is a moment of being loved, of being affirmed for our strengths, a moment of special promise. However, this moment gives way to many other moments, and we quickly learn, as we take on this new role, that we do not give up our vulnerability or foibles. We do not cease wanting to control and "manage" others "for their own good." Nor can we avoid criticism, negativity, or unpopularity because of decisions we must make. We come face-to-face with ourselves as we encounter new challenges in the ministry of leadership. Where do we in leadership go when we face chal-lenges, temptations, and limitations? We can adopt the mindset of working hard to live up to the idealized expectations of our culture and community, or we can trust our authentic selves--the truth that we are beloved daughters or sons who give pleasure to God in carrying out a leadership function. We can discover a spirituality of leadership by examining our ongoing response to the challenges, temptations, and limitations we encounter. When we come to our spiritual identity, when we know who we are, says John Shea, then our spiritual work begins. As it was for Jesus, coming to this knowl-edge is a co-working with God that engages the full-ness of the human person. Foundational to the process is metanoia, conversion, the change of mind and heart that occurs~when we come to know ourselves as open to Spirit. Conversion leads us to make ourselves accessible to God. We move beyond our sinfulness and limita-tions to knowing that we, like Jesus, bring pleasure to God. This is a fruit of prayer. We open ourselves "to 70.4 2011 Eicbten * The Hum of Being 366 receive what the Divine Source is waiting to give" (p. 99). Openness makes us ready to receive. God as God. Such openness comes in prayer, in the troubled sister, in vexing financial and administrative details, in the elderly and the sick, in the gifted ministry of so many of our members, in our team of ministry colleagues, in cre-ation, and on and on. Spirit enters into this world; we do not break into Spirit's world. God is always present; we are the ones invited to open ourselves to receive and to act from our deepest identity as beloved of and precious to God. Shea goes on to say that, though the origins and destiny of Spirit are mysterious, you are filled by the sound of it. It is the burn of being--present, vibrant, alive, now. You live by a spirit that is not you. Being born of this spirit is not an event "done and over." It is the "always-already- now" of life. It is the power of God liv-ing in you. Touch that ever so slightly in yourself and you will open to the teacher sent from God, and he will whisper things hidden since the foun-dation of the world, the things he has heard from his Father, the things he is yearning to tell you. He will entrust himself to you. (p. 86, emphasis added) This "hum of being" is "the vibration of pure exis-tence. It blows where it will because it is not produced by people . its origin and destiny cannot be traced, but we bear the sound of it. We know it because it is car-rying us away" (p. 94). Opening to Spirit The core of leadership ministry is spiritual leader-ship-- a way of being present to ourselves and to our God that informs and guides our organizational lead-ership. Spiritual leadership requires an openness and readiness to receive Spirit as she comes to us each day. Review for Religious "Spirit is shy," says Shea. "It does not want to compete with other allegiances. It wants open space, vacancies that it can move into without conflict. When we are detached, we wait in readiness . . . [with] hands empty and open" (p. 38). This calls for an emp-tiness with which we are often not comfort-able. It calls us to back away consciously from being overly busy, important, needed, in control, and responsi-ble. Shea suggests that it means being con-scious of our human dependence and vul- -°- - nerability, of the alienation that characterizes sin, and of the uncomfortable conversion that leads us to redemp-tion rather than isolation (pp. 141-42). Being attentive to our inner reality requires time to be engaged with our inner selves and with God. Wayne Muller says that "without stillness, without being pres-ent, we will miss the simple, quiet opportunities., to hear more accurately. We will miss the opening, the readiness, that place of grace waiting to be born.''2 Being quiet and present is a critical discipline and necessary attitude as we deal with the siren lure of daily demands and issues inherent in congregational leadership. Different personalities will attend to inner realities and find a life focus in different ways. One person's way of being open and attentive to God can, for another, be a "grit-your-teeth" effort. Joan Chittister OSB reminds us that even age does not have to be an "impediment Being quiet and present is a ~ri~tical discipline as we deal with the siren lure of daily demands and issues inherent in congregational leadership. 367 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ The Hum of Being 368 to the magnet for life in us.''3 When we discover what is the magnet of life for us, we will also discover clues to where we find the source of energy for our journey through life. Those clues can be particularly helpful for those in a leadership position. By knowing and trust-ing our way of being present to God, we will come to know the truth that "There are as many ways to pray as there are moments in life . In all these moments, [we] gradually make [our] lives more a prayer and . . . open [our] hands to be led by God even to where [we] would rather not go.''4 Inherent Call to Conversion Spiritual and communal leadership is an ongoing call to conversion. We begin with any of a wide range of attitudes: "It's my turn." "I am finally feeling ready." "Oh God, please not me!" "I am willing to serve and to offer my best." "If this is what God and the community want of me ." "This is how I will do leadership" . "This is what I will do to help community grow" . "This is what I will do to 'fix' the community . " Regardless of how we begin, we soon learn that this ministry is about entering into a way of life where, as an elected leader, we turn from the perspective of a mem-ber to a perspective that encompasses the whole com-munity. The position brings new responsibilities and a fresh awareness both of the community and of the local and global church. Community members express their varied expectations of leaders in titles that range from "Mother General" to "Servant Leader," but whatever the expectations, leadership is a way of life that calls for detachment and self-emptying? for becoming a channel for Spirit in the life and activities of the whole community. Review for Religious Leadership requires letting go of attachments, fre-quently of a beloved ministry. A move to a new location, may mean distance from family, friends, and colleagues. We often discover, painfully, that being called to lead-ership changes how friends and companions relate to us. We need to move from roles and responsibilities with which we have identified into those that may not be of our personal choice. How many of us have said, "Finances are not my thing"? Yet now we must carry major responsibility for financial stewardship of the congregation. We learn that even though we are vested with power in the community, we do not have full control over our schedule, our members, our decisions. I remember hear-ing a speaker say to a roomful of new leaders that they had control of their schedules and could schedule days off. Having been in leadership before, I almost laughed out loud, knowing how many days off or team plan-ning days had been cut short by a death or a commu-nity crisis. While congregations talk about "part-time" leadership, the fact is, once elected, we are never not an elected leader. Leadership ministry is full-time, is exercised whenever and however it is called for, and is a ministry around which we wrap part-time responsibili-ties as chaplain or pastoral minister or whatever. The position calls for detachment from personal and minis-try commitments in order to carry out leadership minis-try. It also calls for circumspection as we come to realize that everything we say and do reflects on "leadership"; personal opinions become "Leadership believes . " Response to the Call to Conversion We can fight against the inevitable demands for detachments or we can allow them to be invitations to 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ The Hum of Being go within, to come to deeper self-knowledge, to get in touch with our spiritual center. I remember fearing that leadership would move me into falsity and role-playing. Then I heard Angeles Arrien, a cultural anthropolo-gist, speak about the necessity for leaders to exercise "response-ability"--not responsibility as duty or obli-gation ("I have to . . ."), but as the ability to respond from one's authentic self ("I choose to . . ."). Such an understanding invites a freely given choice. Richard Nahman OSA, in a reflection on gospel spirituality,5 points out that the word "authority" comes from the same root as "author" and "authenticity." He poses some probing questions: "How authentic am I? . . . do I challenge myself, asking, 'Am I "selling" a heart-rending "product," or is the Word of God alive in me?'" His questions encourage us to ask our own: When is my action more about me than about service to my sis-ters and our mission in the church? In facing the daily challenges of leadership, do I aim to win or do I enter into the call to conversion? Am I reacting to a particular sister because of some past experience with her? Or am I able to step back and consider how I would respond to that same request or situation if it involved someone else? Do I need to control, or can I open myself to living with ambiguity and other ways of thinking? How am I dealing with stress? Am I numbing myself by eating or drinking too much? What am I avoiding? To whom am I accountable? Questions like these help keep us honest, invite us to face the challenges we encounter with open-ness to our personal blindness and need for conversion, and move us to prayer and reflection. Acting from Gift or Obligation? If we are serious about conversion, in leadership we Revie~v for Religious will come face to face with our inner self and our bodily reality--our truth in all its beauty and messiness--and will be invited to make a choice to live and minister out of a gift economy rather than an obligation economy. God is gifting me with this opportunity. Can I offer my ministry out of a generous abundance, or do I move into resentment because I "have to do it"? Can I own the reality that leadership does involve some "have tos" and do them graciously rather than grudgingly? How approach a situation shapes how I enter into it and how others experience me in it. None of us is perfect; nor is anyone the perfect leader. But a leader is invited to go beyond duty or obligation and make a choice for life, a choice to love and to serve the com-munity members out of love. This, I believe, is a choice for conversion, a "turning away from one's past [and] entrust-ing oneself to the unex-pected, uncharted way into the incalculable future in which God comes to us.''6 Conversion is not just giving up and letting go, adapting our lives to the necessities of the ministry, but is a life-long project of committing one's whole life to God. And leadership ministry offers abundant opportunities to move toward that commitment. Gradually, if we are open to conver-sion, God becomes that "hum of being" that accompa-nies us whether or not we are aware of it. We need to choose intentionally to open ourselves to conversion, knowing that we do not control when or how it will happen. God has a way of unsettling our Conversion is a life-long project of committing one's whole life to God. 371 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ Tbe Hum of Being carefully controlled world and "tipping" it sideways. VChen we least expect it, God will find ways to unsettle us and invite us to make "soul" decisions in which we recommit our hearts and lives to the sacred journey-- inward, outward, and forward--the "always-already-now" of life that Shea speaks of. It is a journey wherein we are called to be witnesses to the gospel and to be changed by God's abundant love into true disciples. As leaders, we are sustained in this conversion pro-cess by our own prayer, by the love and prayer of our leadership team, by friends and companions, by the liturgy, by the beauty of creation, and by the grace of office itself---"the quiet, sudden infusion of some power beyond [one]self. the unbidden, unsought, unexpected emergence in the soul of a capacity hitherto unacknowledged" (Spoto, pp. 59-60). Leadership as Loving Relationship When Jesus came to proclaim the Good News, some were gleeful that the Messiah had come and things would be good for the downtrodden Jews. However, Jesus in his preaching and ministry taught that the peo-ple of Israel should not presume privilege. He began his ministry not from a place of power but from a realiza-tion that he was loved and that his mission was to draw others into God's love. Whatever he did, he did out of his identity as the loved one. When we are elected to leadership positions, we must realize that we are elected for mission and not for our own prestige. Shea suggests that when we realize we are loved, we are energized, and it is then that we begin, even if we continue work we have been doing for years (p. 113). We can draw on personal skills and abilities and become good administrators in our communities, but Review for Religious spiritual leadership is about knowing ourselves as loved; about loving and receiving love in our sister-to-sister, brother-to-brother relationships; and about speaking truth in love. George Wilson says that we are "held irre-vocably by a profound sense of charity." A deep love for God and for one another enables us to face the uncom-fortable and often contradictory movements in our lives and in the lives of our sisters and brothers. "The Gospel mandate of love--not a romanticized abstraction but an interpersonal engagement with a challenging flesh-and-blood sister or brother--will always remain the ultimate touchstone for truth.''7 The mandate of love moves us to relationships characterized by dialogue, forgiveness, and reconciliation. As leaders, we are called to create deeper understanding among our members, to uncover a base of shared meaning that helps us coordinate and align our actions with our values. We enter into a pro-found dialogue when we relate from a deep well of love, even in what may seem simple and ordinary. It is not just words that we share; it is a relationship8 that finds its source in our relationship with God. Our sisters and brothers may or may not remember a major project that was completed or that it was accomplished during the term of leadership. What they will remember is our relationship with them--whether we loved them. Leadership as Pilgrimage Spiritual leadership is not static but is a process that draws us into a vital and life-changing relationship with God and with our community. We can think of that process as a pilgrimage. Doris Donnelley identifies five characteristics that distinguish pilgrims from tourists.9 Perhaps we can appropriate these as we strive to become pilgrim leaders: 70.4 2011 Eichten ¯ The Hum of Being ¯ Valuing the internal. Pilgrim leaders are motivated by a hope for something to happen within, something that alters their attitudes and ways of looking at life. ¯ Valuing self-investment. Pilgrim leaders invest themselves and surrender to the experience. They sur-render all that clutters their lives so that God takes cen-ter stage. ¯ Valuing transformation. Pilgrim leaders are awak-ened to new dimensions of life, community, and church. Such awakening requires listening at a deep level--at the level of Spirit and the "hum of being"--to avoid falling into disillusionment and cynicism as they learn more about the human failings and limitations of their community members and their church--and perhaps of themselves. ¯ Valuing the journey as well as the arrival. Pilgrim leaders prepare both before and all through their term of office by "taking time seriously and elegantly--the right here-and-now time of [their] lives" (Muller, p. 167). At the end of their leadership ministry, they "go home" and allow the internal dimension of their journey to continue to unfold. Those who allow this to hap-pen are changed, and the rest of their life's pilgrimage begins in new ways. ¯ Valuing community. Pilgrim leaders know that they are on a particular journey at a particular time and with a particular group for a reason. As the journey unfolds, the connections they make and the experiences they share with the group help them to understand that they are part of something much bigger than their own per-sonal growth and decisions. All of us, both leaders and members, are on a pilgrimage. We are a community within the larger community of our church, both the pastoral and the Review for Religious hierarchical church. We allow ourselves to realize that we are about witnessing to our loving God, not about building the perfect community. Parker Palmer1° speaks about the necessity of "de-illusionment," that is, moving from the "illusion of salvation by interaction" (having an idealized community of love, understanding, and true dialogue, having lots of new vocations, etc.), to under-standing that we are people in search of God, that God is always present, and that salvation is pure gift of God. I conclude with words for all who are called to com-munity leadership: trust your pilgrimage of leadership. Open yourself to God's love so freely given. Surrender yourself to God and listen to the hum of your being as God guides your community into the future and guides you daily in your leadership service to your sisters and brothers. Your authenticity is a source of Spirit. You are strengthened and supported when you are able to be open to Spirit, when you can allow enough emptiness and detachment to make room for Spirit, and when you can trust God enough to enter into the call to con-version. When you know yourself as beloved and pre-cious to God, that love will overflow into those around you; and, if you allow it, you will experience the return of love in abundance. Returning to the words of John Shea: "You are filled with the sound [of Spirit] . . . the hum of being . . . present, vibrant, alive, now. Being born of this spirit is not an event 'done and over.' It is the 'always-already-now' of life. It is the power of God living in you." In these days, when there are no clear answers or directions for our communities, we are invited to enter into the pilgrimage of religious communal life and min-istry with trust, courage, hope, and gratitude. As lead- 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ The Hum of Being ers, let us journey together with our sisters and brothers and with our God into a future filled with hope. Notes ' John Shea, Gospel Light: Jesus Stories for Spiritual Consciousness (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1998). This theme is developed more fully in Chapter 4, pp. 97-116. 2 Wayne Muller, Sabbath, Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives (New York: Bantam Book, 2000), p. 167. 3 Joan Chittister, Gi~ of Years. (New York: BlueBridge, 2008), p. vii. 4 Henri Nouwen, With Open Hands (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1972), p. 158. s Richard M. Nahman OSA, "My Gospel Spirituality," Review for Religious (2009): 41-48. 6 Donald Spoto, Reluctant Saint, The Life of Francis of Assisi (New York: The Penguin Group, 2003), p. 48. 7 George Wilson, "Something Tells Me. ," Human Development (2008): 13. 8 William Isaacs, Dialogue and the Art of Thinking Together (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. 19. He notes that the ancient meaning of the word logos suggests "an intimate awareness of the relationships among things in the natural world," making "relationship" the best English translation for logos. "In that sense, logos may be best rendered in English as 'relationship.' The Book of John in the New Testament begins: 'In the beginning was the Word (logos).' We could now hear this as 'In the beginning was the Relationship.' " 9 Doris Donnelly, "Pilgrims and Tourists: Conflicting Metaphors for the Christian Journey to God," Spirituality Today 44:1 (1992): 20-36. www.spiritualitytoday.org/spir2day/9243.1donnelly.html l0 Dr. Parker J. Palmer, "Borne Again: The Monastic Way to Church Renewal," Weavings: A Journal of the Christian Spiritual Life (1986), p. 12. 376 Review for Religious THOMAS A. KROSNICKI Architecture and Religious Life ~ ver the years, Review for Religious has covered a wide range of diverse topics that touch religious life. The indices of the preceding 69 volumes of the periodical attest to a rich and significant contribution. Yet it seems to me that one topic is conspicuous by its absence. There seem to be no articles dealing with the relationship architecture has with the life of religious communities in general or about the impact buildings have on the members of those communities. In this brief presentation, I intend to raise several salient points for reflection and possible discussion by religious men and women about the impact of architecture--the houses we live in--on religious life. Your House Is a Self-Portrait Granting that the statement "Your house is a self-portrait" holds a measure of truth, one might rightly Thomas A. Krosnicki SVD is a former Director of the Bishops' Committee on the Liturgy. He may be addressed at Divine Word House, 832 Varnum Street NE, Washington, DC 20017-2143. 70.4 2011 Krosnicki ¯ Architecture and Religious Life 378 ask: What is the identity that a religious community intends to project by its buildings? It could be worth-while, therefore, for community members to step back and take a good look at their present living quarters, particularly if they are contemplating renovations or the construction of a new building in the future. What com-posite self-portrait do the present buildings or plans for future ones project to members and non-members alike? There should normally be a correlation between the edifice and the self-definition of the religious community that it houses. Ideally, building and self-definition posi-tively reinforce each other. As there is no set design for th~ shape of a religious house, no one can convincingly claim that "this is how a house for religious should look." During the 1950s and 1960s, when religious com-munities were expanding in the United States, archi-tects designed new houses for religious communities that today remain clearly identifiable as from that era. Basically, many look very much alike--pejoratively described as "1960 Penal." They ended up strikingly similar in both design and material. I can, for example, point to the two houses across from my residence in metropolitan Washington DC and say unequivocally, "Clearly, from their appearance, both were built dur-ing the unprecedented growth phenomena of Catholic religious life of the 1960s." Unfortunately, in the States such buildings were generally designedto last for 75 to 100 years; they will be standing for another 25 or more years, even though their primary purpose may have morphed into something else, given the decline of voca-tions and dwindled need for large residential buildings. How did that kind of building style come about? Financial constraints? The pressure of urgent need for expansion? A lack of creative imagination? Government Review for Religious restrictions? Regardless of the reason, the basic princi-ple "Every house is a self-portrait" seems to have been unwittingly overlooked. One hopes that we religious have better images of ourselves than these buildings project. But, a corporate self-image is not always easy to come by. How might it be achieved? Rule and charism, as well as the function and ministry of the particular religious community are central to the large equation that feeds into an architectural design. Therefore, in plan-ning or renovating a house, a religious community must col-laborate with a care-fully selected architect in a process of "defin- ~, ing" the building so it truly fits with and looks like the community and not just shows off the architect's latest ideas. As qualified and inspired as the architect or builder might be, they still may not truly understand religious life and must watch the bottom line of overall cost and materials. In short, the community must school the architect, as well as itself, in its unique religious ethos, its particular rule, and its designated ministry so that the completed proj-ect images or reflects the community at its very best. Thus, a rural Trappist monastery should not have the appearance or design of an inner city residence for the Missionaries of Charity of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. One hopes that we religious have better images of ourselves than these buildings project. Form Follows Function The architectural principle of Louis Sullivan (~'1896) that "form follows function" remains both valid and in 379 70.4 2011 Krosnicki ¯ Architecture and Religious Life 380 vogue today. Unfortunately, one can still find designs that have proven to be decidedly dysfunctional in spite of that basic principle. Frank Lloyd Wright ('c1959), the renowned American assistant to Sullivan, accepted the axiom in principle but moved beyond it to "organic architecture" promoted by the "Prairie School" move-ment. Recent attention has focused on the organic archi-tecture of the Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona, designed by Antoni Gaudi (t1927). Nature was Gaudi's inspiration. He saw that plant forms clearly stem from their organic function, and he incorporated those forms into the functionality of his imaginative edifice. Function does not necessarily dictate that the end product be prosaic, sterile, or crassly utilitarian. Paradoxically perhaps, structural forms can be functional without being deprived of the truly creative, void of the artistically challenging, or stripped of the esthetically appealing contributions of architecture. Religious residences are generally built in view of their multiple and unique functions. So, the first chal-lenge is to attempt to define the multifunctionality of a religious building that is to be something more than a warehouse for people or a residence for transient day-laborers, not unlike a Motel 6 or Holiday Inn. The bui~ldings are residences for women or men dedicated to a life in community (mensa communis remains an apt term) and bound together by common religious life and ideals, expressed in vows, vocation, and ministerial commitment. A first consideration, when looking at form-func-tion, is the physical arrangement or basic design of the building. What structural units are judged major-- i.e., the central, common spaces of the community? The community chapel, gathering room, library, and Review for Religious dining facility--characterized by their size, location, and accessibility--are generally considered primary. A well thought out floor plan needs to facilitate patterns of movement to these central community areas. Secondary structural units are necessary community service areas and the rooms for individual members, which provide commodious but not ostentatious living. I recall that some artist--perhaps Michelangelo-- stated that "small rooms beget small ideas." Although the personal rooms of the members remain secondary in terms of designed structural units, they are not unimportant for the general well-being of the commu-nity. Each community has its own approach and its own reasons for making its deci sions. One religious community that initially provided private rooms for members in initial formation decided to redesign the space into areas that could be occupied by several persons because they felt that during the ini-tial formation stage private accommodations fostered too much individualism, egocentrism, and even narcis-sism-- a concern that the 'T' might loom larger than the "we." Such questions remain open to serious reflection and debate based on various issues that come into play --e.g., culture, maturity, and background of the indi-viduals concerned. Ultimately, what must be considered in any situa-tion is the basic interrelationship of major and secondary structural units and their impact on the daily life and well-being of the community. Consciously or unconsciously, Some artist stated that "small rooms beget small ideas." 381 70.4 2011 Krosnicki ¯ Architecture and Religious Life decisions about their size and placement will identify and underscore community priorities and emphases. The physical environment does influence the persons who occupy the building, 382' The Building Shapes the Community We must accept the fact that the physical environ-ment does influence the persons who occupy the building. In a process that is subde and for the most part uncon-scious, the edifice can take hold and mold the minds and hearts of the occupants for good or ill. A house at architectural peace with itself can pro-mote harmonious peace for the inhabitants. A house bereft of structural harmony and beauty can, unfortunately, exacerbate division and conflict. That alone is a good reason for "getting it right" on the draw-ing board from the very beginning. Buildings, even for religious men and women, need to support and enhance the individual emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. Consideration must be given to how the psychological and spiritual well-being of the community members can be fostered by the house they inhabit. Is there an appropriate balance between community and individuality? What about the tension between the need for private and for public spaces? Areas of silence and communication? Flexibility and stability? Buildings architecturally designed like rabbit burrows or mazes, where one can easily hide away from others, do not facilitate communication (and therefore community itself) any more than open ended "glass houses" neces-sarily foster or encourage healthy solitude and needed Review for Religious silence. Other problems can be compounded by poor physical layout. Anger, for example, can be triggered by a person's assigned living space within the commu-nity (e.g., "We built the rooms too close to--or too far from--the elevators"). Inadequate light might contribute to depression--e.g., "It's too dark here. I need the sun. I'm depressed." Community and interpersonal tensions can arise when the building itself does not reinforce per-sonal identity, enhance self-worth, or affirm self-esteem. [Editor's Note: One, however, must admit that while some difficulties can be remedied by a change of rooms or by the purchase of adequate lamps, even the best architec-tural planning can go only so far in addressing deeply engrained attitudes and longstanding difficulties.] Serious interpersonal conflicts might be symptomatic of a systemic error in the very environmental package in which one "lives and moves and has his or her being." "You act the way you dress" is a maxim that might be buttressed with another: "You live the way you're housed." Physical, emotional, psychological wholeness and well-being along with spiritual growth are nourished by an environment of beauty and are enhanced by tran-quility begotten of right order. Go Green A new, but significant, consideration in the design and use of religious buildings is the "green" movement. Care for the earth and its natural resources is not only an environmental issue but a theological one as well. In the design and construction of new buildings by reli-gious communities, attending to this "green" factor can stimulate new thinking, practical cost-saving, and aware-ness of environmental issues. There are already positive examples in this regard. 3,83 70.4 2011 Krosnicki * Architecture and Religious Life The Holy Wisdom Monastery of Benedictine Sisters in Middleton, Wisconsin, (www.benedictinewomen.org) that opened in August 2009 addressed "green" issues such as geothermal heating and cooling, solar panels, rain and roof gardens, tankless water heaters, optimum use of natural light, restored natural prairie habitats, and use of regional building materials. The goals are clear: an environmentally sound structure, respect for the environment, use of energy-saving programs, affordable housing, and the manifestation of a spirituality aligned with a care for the earth and all creation. One resource for any religious community consider-ing the construction of a new building or the retrofit-ting of an old one would be the U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC). LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design), a program developed by USGBC, "provides building owner and operators a concise frame-work for identifying and implementing practical and mea-surable ~green building design, construction, operations, and maintenance solutions" (see www.LEED.org). The LEED program can be applied to all buildings regardless of where they are in their life cycle (old, renovated, new). Impact beyond the Community It is my contention that, with few exceptions, reli-gious women and men have not given enough attention to the architectural impact their buildings--in particular their residences--have on their membership. In addition to all that has been said above, it would be important to know what impression our buildings have on those who are shopping around for a religious community. Could it be that the building that clothes the community is of far more significance--more, even, than the religious habit--than heretofore granted? Certainly, in the pro- Review for Religious cess of designing new structures or retrofitting old ones, the psychological, spiritual, and physical well-being of the individual, and therefore of the community, must be carefully weighed. In all these areas, there is ample reflection material for the community, the architect, and the construction company. The fruit of that reflec-tion would benefit religious life and those that religious touch by their life and ministry. Approaching Fall As the drone of locusts saws through evening silence, summer quietly collapses. No encore of merry gardens, rains trelsy of wrens, aroma of cut grass. I gird my soul as I view the spent zucchini plants fiat and pallid. No sly submarines left. And so goodbyet. My God, pull back these fingers reaching for what's gone. Teach them to renounce for the needed span all blush and bloom, all sun-nursed freshness. Stiffen my spine for sterner days, arthritic stalks in dying fields, the grief of trees soon to weep their leaves. Let me trust the grace all losses offer. Patricia Schnapp RSM 70.4 2011 focus on JOEL GIALLANZA Be Saints: Pathway to a Holy Life Joseph On 17 October 2010, Pope Benedict XVI can-onized Brother Andr4 Bessette CSC, the first member of the Congregation of Holy Cross to be so honored. His canonization did not really surprise anyone who knows anything about his life and work and, of course, about the Oratory of Saint Joseph in Montreal. Even before Andr4's beatification in 1982 and now his canonization, it was easy to think of him as a saint. He was considered such even during his lifetime. And, in the interim period of forty-five years between his death and his beatification, it was generally assumed that one day he would be officially recognized as a saint by the church. It was easy to think of him as a saint because of the many healings and Joel Giallanza CSC is the administrative assis-tant to the provincial of the South West Province of the Holy Cross Brothers. He can be addressed at 1101 St. Edward's Drive, Austin, Texas 78704. Revi~ for Religious other miracles associated with him. Though not often mentioned, those other miracles included bi-location and the gift of insight through which he could read (or "see," as he said) people's souls. These types of miracles came to light during the testimony of witnesses in the processes for his beatification and canonization. Brother Andre's frequent exhortation to others was simple and direct, "Be saints." His life and work set before us a way to holiness, a way to "be saints." A Life and A Work Alfred Bessette was born on 9 August 1845, in Saint Gr~goire d'Iberville, Qudbec, Canada. He was the eighth of twelve children. By the time he was twelve years old, both his parents had died; he and his siblings were separated and sent to live with various relatives. Alfred did not receive much education; he learned to sign his name and to read a little. His health was always weak and it was difficult for him to keep a regular job. As a young man, he worked for various factories and mills in Canada and the northeastern United States. In 1870, when he was twenty-five years old, he applied for admission to the Congregation of Holy Cross, a community of brothers, priests, and sisters founded in France thirty-five years earlier by Blessed Basil Moreau CSC, a diocesan priest of Le Mans. Alfred was accepted, and took the name Brother Andre. Because of his poor health, his approval for profession of vows was delayed. After his initial formation, he was assigned to Notre Dame College in Montreal, a secondary boarding school sponsored by the Congregation of Holy Cross. He served as doorkeeper, infirmarian, barber, and jani-tor. In 1872, he was approved to profess his vows as a 387 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints Brother of Holy Cross. Though he was not involved in the school extensively, he was particularly sensitive to students who were ill. When an epidemic of smallpox broke out in another school in Montreal, Andr~ rec-ommended a procession with a statue of Saint Joseph through the school. The epidemic diminished imme-diately. Increasingly, the sick began to visit Brother Andr~ and ask for his prayer and advice. His usual recom-mendation was that they pray to Saint Joseph to ask for his intercession. In the early 1870s, the first heal-ings began to occur. Brother Andr~ always insisted that Saint Joseph accomplished all these things. His typi-cal "response when people requested his own prayer was simple: "Ask Saint Joseph to bring your petition to God." Because the sick were coming to the school to see him, parents and community members objected that the students were being exposed to various sicknesses and diseases. It became difficult for Andr~ to meet with those who came to him for prayer. In 1896, the Congregation of Holy Cross purchased a piece of property across the street from the school, near a trolley stop, where the sick could meet with Brother Andr& A small chapel was built in 1904, and in 1909 he was assigned full-time to be in charge of this place of prayer. In 1915 construction began on a larger chapel, the crypt church of the present Oratory of Saint Joseph, to accommodate more people. The number of pilgrims seeking Brother Andre's counsel and Saint Joseph's intercession steadily increased. After comple-tion of the crypt, construction continued and the upper church began to take shape. When funds fell short and the work was suspended prior to the placement of the roof, Brother Andr~ said, "If Saint Joseph wants a roof Review for Religious over his head, he will take care of it." Saint Joseph even-tually did take care of it, but Andr~ was not alive to see it. Over the years Brother Andre's health never improved. Two days after Christmas, 1936, he had a severe attack of indigestion, and a few days later he was admitted to the hospital. In the days that followed, his pain increased; during that time he was constantly pray-ing and asking that God's will be done. On January 4 he went into a coma. Brother Andr6 died at 12:50 AM on 6 January 1937. His body was brought to the Oratory. During the next seven days more than one million people waited in line, in the bitter cold, to pass his body, to touch their rosaries and other objects to it, and to pray. Many extraordinary cures were reported during those days. Saint Andr~ did not live to see the completion of Saint Joseph Oratory as it is today; however, he is buried in the crypt church he knew so well. The Oratory contin-ues to be a place of prayer and pilgrimage. Andre's name is forever linked to that of Saint Joseph because of the obvious similarities between these two saints. Both were simple laborers through whom God chose to do extraordinary things; both knew pov-erty and suffering; both experienced exile. Above all, both remained faithful to whatever God asked of them; both point out to us a pathway to holiness. A Way to Holiness Though Andre's life was filled with miracles and other extraordinary phenomena, our faith teaches us that such things do not de facto constitute a person's holiness. Holiness is not about singular actions within a person's life, regardless of how impressive those may be. Holiness 70.4 2011 True holiness is enduring 390 is reflected through the person's entire life, the complete example that is given to others. Further, the standard for such holiness is not arbitrary; it is nothing less than God's own person. Jesus taught, "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). Another transla-tion says, "Be holy, as God in heaven is holy." With the Incarnation, Jesus becomes the standard. Holiness is simply to live as Jesus lived, to love as Jesus loved, to do what Jesus did; we do it in our own lives, in our daily relationships and responsibilities. Each and accessible, time Jesus confronts those . who would sum up the law in terms of what they do or what they have accom-plished, he counters it by referring to the priority of mercy, detachment, compassion, forgiveness, charity-- in brief, following him and his way. We look to people we consider holy for encourage-ment and guidance, for insight about how to follow Jesus. Brother Andre's entire life and example speak to us of following Jesus, of being holy. His is an endur-ing holiness that reaches beyond the historical period in which he lived. His life also reflects an accessible holiness; a way of life that is possible, even though we may never do exactly what Andr~ did. His instruction to us is simple, "Be saints." True holiness is enduring and accessible; temporary holiness is counterfeit and conceited. In our own way, in our own life, we can be holy. Brother Andr4 shows us a pathway to a holy life. What are the recommendations for the way to holiness that Andre's life and example place before us? These reflections will focus on four recommendations. Review for Religious Believe First, believe. Andrd used to say, "God never forgets us." "Never" is a strong word and leaves no room for variation. And yet, that is what our faith teaches us. God is always with us. God always loves us--always, without exception. Do we believe that, without exception? This is the faith to which we are called. The challenge for us emerges when our faith is confronted by experiences that do not speak to us of God, or by events that seem to be in direct contradic-tion to what we hold to be true of a loving God, a good God. Then we are tempted to think that God possibly has forgotten us or is looking the other way for the moment. Yet, faith teaches us that such are God's ways, such is the way that Providence works. We are called to trust Providence, to believe Providence, even when things point in directions that, to all appearances, have nothing to do with God. This was true in Andre's life. The fact that he was admitted to the Congregation of Holy Cross is evidence that God was at work when the normal pointed in the opposite direction. He was not educated, he learned to read very little, and could barely write much beyond his name. His health was always precarious. From a voca-tion perspective, it was uncertain if he would ever have the capability or stamina for any kind of ministry. These facts provided more than sufficient reasons for the com-munity to think that it would be too much of a risk to accept him. Still, Andr~ remained faithful to the work that had been assigned to him and hoped he would be accepted. As he said, "If you do not believe in God, you will get nothing." Andr~ believed; and though his formal acceptance and profession of vows were delayed, he was admitted to Holy Cross. 391 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints Similarly, the fact that the Oratory came into exis-tence is a testimony to Andre's faith that God, through Saint Joseph, would complete what Andr~ believed God was calling him to do. Even after permission was received from the community to proceed with the con-struction, there were financial setbacks. Each step along the way required the conviction that God and Saint Joseph would provide. Brother Andr~ continued his work as if God and Joseph were already in the process of providing. As con-struction work was well underway, when asked how he had succeeded, Andr6's reply was simple, "I have always left the work of the Oratory in the hands of the good God." In late 1936 and early 1937, when it became evi-dent that Brother Andr~ would die before the comple-tion of the upper basilica, his own perspective never varied: "The good God has no need of me to complete this work. Saint Joseph will see to it." The foundation for our own spiritual life is faith, the conviction that God does not and will not forget us or abandon us. In reality the questions before us are not about God's side of the relationship; rather they arise about our side of the relationship. VChen are the times that I tend to forget God? What experiences or events distract me from God's constant presence to me? What can I do to maintain a conviction about the constancy of God's presence? Pray A second recommendation for the way to holiness that Andr~ teaches us: pray. Andr~ used to encourage others by telling them, "When we pray, God's ear is pressed to our lips." It is an intriguing image for at least two reasons. Review for Religious First, there is an intimacy about the image, illustrat-ing God's desire to be as close to us as possible. There are obviously times when we do not sense or perceive that proximity as a reality. Andr~ assumed it. He believed that God would be near when we prayed regardless of whether we experienced that nearness. Such an insight builds upon the faith that was mentioned as the first rec-ommendation for a way to holiness. There is no incen-tive to pray if we think that the words and thoughts and desires that we bring to prayer simply disappear into a vacuum. To pray at all, we must believe that God is near to us. The Book of Deuteronomy teaches us: This commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, "Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?" Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?" No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe (30:11-14). Such is God's closeness to us when we pray. Second, it is interesting that in this perspective on prayer Brother Andr~ saw God as quite active. He had the firm conviction that God was listening and listening closely. It is God who presses an ear to our lips. God is interested in our prayer and wants to hear what we have to say. It was said by witnesses that Andr~ prayed as if he was speaking to someone from whom he expected an answer. We must be willing to bring the happenings of our daily life into our prayer, honestly and directly. Andr~ used to say, "In prayer, one speaks to God as one speaks to a friend." We can speak to God in this way because there is an intimacy about prayer and because God draws close to us when we pray. 393 70.4 2011 Giallanza * Be Saints Prayer may not be so much about changing the world around us as it is about changing our perspective on that world. 394 Brother Andr4 prayed about what was going on in his life and his ministry. He brought his concerns to God, very explicitly. Whether it was his concern about the continuing development of the Oratory or about the condition of a particular person who had asked for his prayer, he believed that prayer could and would have a real impact in the world. He says in his customary sim-plicity, "If we prayed more, things would go better in the world." Given the complexities of the world in which we live, it would be too easy to dismiss this as naive. And yet, prayer may not be so much about changing the world around us as it is about chang-ing our perspective on that world, enabling us to make a difference, enabling us to see ways in which God is present and active. Genuine prayer always urges us to action; prayer apart from action is no prayer at all. When it came to Saint Joseph, we know that Andr4 had a special relationship with him. For Andr4 it was sim-ply a matter of presenting to Joseph whatever needed to be done and then trusting that it would get done. He said, "If people knew how to pray better, they would obtain everything from Saint Joseph." The challenge is two-fold: first, to be clear regarding what we are praying about; and second, to refer everything to God's will. What we envi-sion as a response to our prayer may or may not be what God has in mind. Praying "better," as Andr4 understood it, required attentiveness to whatever God has in mind. Review for Religious Prayer builds upon the foundation of faith and is necessary for our continued progress and growth in our faith life. Our approach to prayer and our fidelity to prayer say more about its quality than does the actual content and method of our prayer. What is my method of prayer and am I faithful to it? Do I bring to prayer the reality of my everyday life: my hopes, struggles, fears, expectations, aspirations? Is my prayer more a demand or a desire, a litany or a longing, a performance or a passion? Ser~e A third recommendation for the way to holiness: serve. Brother Andrt's sense of service direcdy echoes the gospel; he said, "We cannot love God without lov-ing our neighbor." Service must flow from our prayer. As prayer expresses our love-relationship with God, so service expresses our love for others. Brother Andr6 used to say, "The door of heaven is the heart of Jesus and the key to that door is prayer and love." These two--prayer and love practiced in service--flow into and out of one another. They form a dynamic cycle of our relationship to God and our apostolic relationships with others. Andr~ does not speak about service as much as he speaks about loving others, caring for them, and respond-ing to their needs. Clearly he understood loving others in very practical, immediate terms. Serving others, loving others, in some way engages us with them. Andr6 often said that it was not sufficient to give money in respond-ing to needs; it was also necessary to give compassion from the heart. Money could assure that there would be a distance maintained between ourselves and the reality to which we are responding; compassion demands that we 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints 396 know about and be touched by the actual circumstances of others. It is clear in studying Brother Andre's example that he was willing to be very engaged in the lives of oth-ers. Witnesses testified that even brief encounters with him left them with the impression that they had been lis-tened to and even known by him much more profoundly than they had anticipated. Brother Andr~ often said that the Lord was our big brother and that we, as little brothers and sisters, have the responsibility to love one another as members of the same family. This is a key theme in the spirituality of the Congregation of Holy Cross. Still, it is especially interesting that Andr~ would use the family as a refer-ence for loving others. His own experience of family, that is, his biological family, was quite disjointed as he was growing up. In fact, his experience of family could have left him bitter or with a feeling of being deserted, due to the death of his parents and the separation from his siblings. Yet he overcame that potentially debilitat-ing reality to grow into a person who genuinely cared for others and responded to their needs. Rather than going through life with a bitterness because he had no natural-family identity, he chose to center his sense of family around the Lord Jesus. And that center was espe-cially necessary because there were times when even his Holy Cross religious family was not very supportive. Brother Andrd is known for his very close relation-ship with Saint Joseph. His mother introduced him. to practices of praying to Saint Joseph and, over time, he developed a strong and intimate relationship with this great saint. However, it is clear that the priority in his life was his love-relationship with Jesus, and he lived that relationship through his service to others. He served simply because that is what Jesus did; as Jesus Review for Religious cared for the people, so too Andrd cared for the people; as Jesus healed, so too he healed. For Andrd this was a very straightforward reality: do what Jesus did and so become like Jesus. Service, in whichever form it takes, demonstrates the reality of our spiritual life. Service--the giving of ourselves, our talents and gifts--is a necessary part of the Christian life. The alterative is that our spiritual life becomes narcissistic and self-enclosed. Neither the type nor the extent of the service that we render to oth-ers is as significant as that we build some form of ser-vice into our life as a way of continuing the mission of Jesus. Our service must be consistent with our gifts and respectful of our priority commitments in life. How do I serve others? In which ways do I continue the mission of Jesus? How has the service that I offer been a source of spiritual growth for me? Trust The fourth recommendation for the way to holi-ness: trust. Trust, in terms of the spiritual life, involves the recognition and acceptance of the abilities we have and the efforts we make to do what our relationship with God and our spiritual life require of us. Trust also involves the conviction that God will support us in those abilities and efforts. Brother Andr6 teaches us, "God does not ask the impossible. God asks that we offer our good intentions, and accept the inconveniences that come with each day, and offer our daily work." Such simplicity reflects Andr6's basic approach to the spiritual life: we do what we can with what we have. But this simplicity should not be equated with ease. Sometimes when we are con-fronted with daily inconveniences and the work that is 397 70.4 2011 Giallanza * Be Saints before us, the good intentions of which Andr~ speaks may not be so evident. Even though God does not ask the impossible, that does not mean that what each day brings to us does not feel impossible or at least over-whelming at times. Trust is to be convinced that God will remain faith-ful, that God will provide the grace we need to be good Christians, even when we encounter difficulties or experience setbacks. If we do not believe that God will remain faithful, we will gradually move toward discour-agement and, in the worst case, despair. Andr6's recom-mendation is explicit: "We must pray that God does not abandon us in our trials and pray to accept with confi-dence the trials that the good God judges appropriate for us to carry." Trust is especially necessary when confronting the cross, of whatever kind. We know that Andr~ most certainly had his share of crosses, both from the Holy Cross community and from those outside Holy Cross. Brother Andr6 speaks about the cross and about trusting God in the midst of experiencing the cross. However the cross comes, it is yet another expression of God's love for us; it is part of our transformation into the liv-ing likeness of Jesus; it is part of resurrection. This is why. Andr~ refers to trials that "the good God judges appropriate for us to carry." He saw the cross in our life as part of God's will even as it was in Jesus' own life. He said to someone who did not see any improvement in a bothersome physical condition, "If it is God's will that you be sick, why would you refuse to accomplish God's will?" The appropriateness of the crosses we carry is based upon what we need for our transformation. It also reflects our capacity to carry a particular cross and our openness to the grace necessary for carrying that cross. Review for Religious Brother Andre's name is tightly linked with that of Saint Joseph, and yet it is said by those who knew him well that his principal devotion was to the Passion of Christ. They said he spoke of the Passion as if he had lived it. This makes perfect sense for one who expe-rienced many obstacles along the pathways that he believed God was calling him to follow. And, beyond that, it makes perfect sense for one who shares in the heritage that Father Moreau, as founder, passed on to the Congregation of Holy Cross. Accepting the Passion of Christ as a model for our life requires trust, the con-viction that what we experience will truly lead to our transformation into the living likeness of Jesus, that it will guide us to resurrection. Andr6 is a saint, but if we distance him from us, then we make it impossible to use his example as a support for our own life. Each of us has ~he potential to be a saint. To realize that potential we must trust that God will give us the graces we need. The alternative to trust is self-reli-ance; it is to assume that we are self-contained in terms of the resources we need to be holy. Trust is practiced by fixing our attention on God, accomplishing our everyday responsibilities, and placing our gifts at the service of oth-ers. Do I trust that God will give me the graces I need to be a good Christian? When have I experienced trust as essential for my continued spiritual growth? Which crosses have been the most transformative in my life? "I Have Asked to be Always in God's Presence" When asked about his own prayer and spiritual life and what he was called to do, Brother Andr~ said, "I have asked to be always in God's presence." Whatever images we may have of him, his work and his miracles, it is interesting that his desire was simply to be in God's 399 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints 400] presence, to do what he did in cooperation with God. At another point he said, "We must not be attached to earthly things, otherwise we cannot be attached to God." To be one with God, to be attached to God - this was his deepest longing. And that constitutes Andre's holiness more than any of the extraordinary accomplish-ments that occurred during his life or since his death. For him, this union with God, this being in God's presence, was essentially an act of love. He frequently recommended, "Pray to obtain a true love for God." A true love for God would be reflected in the desire to be ever close to God, to complete God's will, to live those qualities of life that are reflected in the gospel: humility, faith, compassion, generosity, patience, etc. It is interesting that, in commenting on his ministry, Andr~ once said, "It is su.rprising that people often ask me for healings, but rarely for humility, for the spirit of faith." While a particular healing might be important in response to what a person was suffering, he believed the priorities for the spiritual life were more closely related to humility and faith than to any healing. Before Brother Andr6 died, his last words were, "This is the seed.;' Though it is an allusion to several gospel texts, he did not expand on his statement; so we can reflect on this self-description from several perspec-tives. All of them can give us some insight into the way to holiness that Andr6 points out to us. In Matthew's Gospel, in the parable of the sower, Jesus says, "As for the seed that was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hun-dredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty" (13:23). The seed in this case is God's word that is meant to bear fruit. It is evident that Andrd's life has produced fruit Review for Religious far beyond what he may have imagined. Responding to God's word was for him a simple act of love. As he often recommended, "Love Jesus as he has loved us, effectively and openly." This is what it means to receive the word and have it grow within our life. In Luke's Gospel, while teaching the crowds, Jesus says, "What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden; it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches" (13:18-19). The seed in this case is a very small, even minuscule, real-ity that becomes ~ large enough to welcome and sustain life. As Brother Andr~ said on more than one occasion, "The Oratory is the work of the good God." Andr~ sowed a small seed, even in the midst of opposition and criticism; today it is clear how extensive the influence of the Oratory is. It continues to be a place where people find comfort and healing for their life, refreshment and encouragement for their faith. Also in Luke's Gospel, when the apostles ask for an increase in faith, Jesus responds, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you" (17:5-6). In this instance the seed is faith that accomplishes what needs to be done. The amount of faith is not of significance to Jesus; some mustard grains are almost like powder. It is the conviction and confidence underlying faith that make the difference. If we could be The priorities for the spiritual life were more closely related to humility and faith than to any healing. 401 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints 402 one with God's will, our faith would have the same effec-tiveness as Jesus' own. What Andr~ did, he did in faith, confident that God and Saint Joseph would respond. He used to say, "You must submit yourself to God's will; it is the teacher of everything." Andr~ had learned well God's will; in his work for the development of the Oratory and in his healing ministry, the confidence and strength that came from that learning are clearly evident. In John's Gospel, Jesus teaches, "Truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (12:24). In this case the seed is the death that leads to new life. This may very well be the seed with which Brother Andrd identified himself. His perspec-tive, not only on the Oratory, but on everything he did, was that God and Saint Joseph were doing what needed to be done. His own task was to remain close to God and to accept whatever came. He had learned that close-ness to God came at a price. He said, "The closer one is to God, the more one suffers." There was dying to do as the Oratory developed; more than once plans did not go exactly as Andr6 had hoped or envisioned they would. But he remained faithful because he knew that God had called him to do this. " Brother Andr~ could say "This is the seed" near the end of his life precisely because that is what he had been throughout his whole life. Regardless of the gospel lens through which we reflect on his words, Brother Andrd has become a seed. His life has become an example of living God's word; of believing that the smallest efforts, if sincere, can produce enormous results; of bringing faith to all that we do; and of dying to self so that new life may emerge. Review for Religious "Be Saints" Brother Andr6's exhortation is simple: "Be saints." The assumption in this, of course, is that we can be saints. The truth is, we can. We do have the potential for a holy life, within our own life. As Andr6's example has been and continues to be a seed of encouragement for countless people, so too we are called to be a seed for others. The soil necessary for that seed to flourish requires that we believe and pray, serve and trust. These will provide the fertile ground that is the foundation for the pathway to a holy life. Reference Quotations of Brother Andr~ are taken from Frbre Andrd disait souvent. (Saint Joseph Oratory; Montreal: Editions Fides, 2010). Translation provided by the author. Imagining the Journey Retracing the route from the San Salvador airport taken by the four North American churchwomen on 2 December 1980 What did they do, I wonder, when the road turned toward death ? Gaze at the sleeping corn, longing to taste harvest? Pass by the gnarled ginger root tree, with hope for the next day's shade? Did they sense the holy ones gathered around them, arms outstretched in welcome? Did they reach for the hand of another who also trembled, finding courage and comfort in her clasp? Did they, I wonder, hold the shining beauty of this world for one last fleeting moment? Chris Koellhoffer IHM 403 70.4 2011 JOHN M. SAMAHA St. Joseph in Focus: Husband of Mary and Guardian of Jesus 404 Hw)w much do we know about the man who as the husband of the Mother of Jesus and the guardian of our Redeemer? St. Joseph is the often-overlooked member of the Holy Family. Scripture says little of him. We seem to give him scant attention. Yet devotion to St. Joseph has deep roots in Christian tradi-tion. Just how do we honor and appreciate him? Do you remember when, as children in Catholic school, we wrote "J.M.J." at the top of our papers? We did so to remind ourselves to have the same intentions that Jesus, Mary, and Joseph had in life. Husband of Mary We must remember that Mary and Joseph are a couple. And Jesus is their child. We picture the mem-bers of the Holy Family side by side. They belong Brother Jolm M. Samaha SM writes from Marianist Center; 22683 Alcalde Road; Cupertino, California 95014. Review for Relig$ous together. When separated, their significance in God's plan of salvation is clouded, because their importance lies in their relationship to each other. While honor-ing the perpetual virginity of Mary, we cannot disre-gard Joseph's privilege and happiness of being Mary's husband. Artwork has often depicted Joseph as an old man--possibly so that he would seem to be less of a threat to Mary's virginity. Such depictions tended to undervalue the loving relationship of Mary and Joseph as husband and wife. St. Teresa of Avila, for one, always insisted that Joseph was a young man when he married Mary. The special preface for Joseph the Husband of Mary in the Eucharistic Liturgy reinforces this positive approach: "With a husband's love he cherished Mary, the Virgin Mother of God." Foster Father of Jesus Since Joseph is the husband of Mary, he is also father to Jesus. While we know that Joseph was not the physical father of Jesus, Luke, in the gospel account about Jesus being lost in the temple, has Mary say to Jesus: "Son, your father and I have been searching for you in sorrow." And the preface cited above goes on to testify: "With fatherly care he watched over Jesus Christ your son, conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit." If one were to think that Joseph's fatherhood was diminished because he did not physically procreate Jesus, let that person speak with adoptive parents-- especially the ones who have conceived a child of their own and adopted others. They will let you know how real Joseph's fatherhood is. Head of the Holy Family Joseph played an important role as Jesus "grew in 405 70.4 2011 Samaba * St. ~osepb in Focus 406 wisdom, age, and grace before God and men." In the Jewish tradition children were in the special care and tutelage of their mothers until they reached the age of five. Beyond that age children came under the special guidance of their fathers. Joseph was the rabbi of the Holy Family and it was his duty and privilege to teach Jesus the Jewish faith and practices. Joseph would have led his family in worship in their home at Nazareth. At meal times both Mary and Jesus looked to Joseph at the head of the table to offer the prayer of blessing. Each year when the Passover was celebrated, the youngster Jesus played his role and addressed the ritual question to Joseph: "Father, why is this night different from every other night?" Then he listened with his mother to Joseph's narration of the glorious events of the Exodus and the explanation of the meaning of the paschal lamb. He could easily have recalled Joseph's explanation years later when he heard John the Baptizer proclaim him the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world. When Jesus was of age, Joseph introduced him to syn-agogue worship and the rituals to which Jesus remained faithful throughout his life. Joseph also taught Jesus the skills of a carpenter. By practicing this trade Jesus sup-ported himself and his mother after Joseph's death. Jesus' human experience of fatherhood was drawn from his relationship with Joseph. When Jesus said, "What father would hand his son a stone when he asks for a loaf, or a poisonous snake when he asks for a fish," surely he had in mind Joseph's gentle kindness to him as he was growing up. When Jesus told the parable of the prodigal son, Joseph could easily have been the model of the loving father in the story. As Jesus described how the father Review for Religious embraced and welcomed the son who had been lost, might he have been recalling how Joseph hugged and kissed him after he had been lost in the temple for three days? When Jesus taught us how to pray, he began with the same loving tide, abba, with which he had addressed Joseph all his life. His deep affection for Joseph is evident in scene after scene throughout the Gospels. Joseph obviously made a profound impression on Jesus. St. Joseph's Relation to Us Has Joseph made an impression on us? How do we think of St. Joseph? How do we honor him and pray to him? Do we appreciate the special place he has in Christian spirituality and in our own heritage? Let us wholeheartedly revere the husband of Mary, the foster father of Jesus, the patron of the universal Church. He is, after all, the man who is closest to Christ. Surprise Visit We much preferred Him At a distance. He could not be bought. He would not be made Into a code, A ritual Or a system. Our minds simply Could not contain Him. We wanted a distant Diety. How were we to know He would come close enough To wear our wounds ? Teresa Burleson 407 70.4 2011 potpourri CAREY ELLEN WALSH Lighting Our Modern Spirit: Pope John Paul II's Luminous Mysteries Pope John Paul II was unmistakably a Marian pope, as shown by his encyclical Redemptoris Mater, his visits to prominent sites of Marian apparitions, and his papal motto, Totus Tuus ("Totally Yours") addressed to Mary--all this in an age when Marian devotion had gone into public decline. The Catholic faithful seemed either to love this about their pope or to for-give it as the pious by-product of his hav-ing grown up under Nazi, then Communist, oppression and having lost his mother at the tender age of eight.1 Both reactions missed the theological aspect of John Paul II's pastoral leadership of the church. Mary, for John Paul II, is not relegated to private devotion, but is the "school" for a 408 Carey Ellen Walsh, an associate professor of theology, is a Benedictine Oblate of St. Meinrad's and teaches theology at Villanova University. Her research inter-ests include biblical theology and Catholic spiritualities. Review for Religious new evangelization in the modern world. She invites us to communal study, deepens our understanding of the gospel, and so eases our isolation. As pastor of the universal church, the pope was drawing on an image of the familiar and universal--a mother's love for her child--as a means for spiritual nourishment. Yet because he used the ancient devotion of the rosary, the spiritual contribution of his example in learning from Mary has not received sufficient attention. It is the intent of this essay to demonstrate the spiritual gift of John Paul II's meditation on the rosary. For a pope's foremost role is that of pastor, with "supreme, full, immediate, and uni-versal power in the care of souls.''2 My focus therefore is precisely on how John Paul II's Marian reflections tend to the hunger in our souls. Given his devotion to Mary, it was no surprise when John Paul II recommended anew the rosary as a devotion and declared October 2002-October 2003 as the Year of the Rosary (Rosarium Virginis Mariae). He wrote lovingly of Mary in the gospels, shared the influence the rosary had had on his own life, and suggested that the rosary was a "school of Mary''3 for learning about Christ. It was, indeed, one of his most intimate reflections. What did occasion surprise, however, was that the pope added a new set of mysteries, the luminous, to the long established joyous, sorrowful, and glorious myster-ies- something no one had done for eight centuries, although many popes had written on the rosary.4 In fact, from the start the rosary had been pre-eminently a prayer of the laity, not of the hierarchy. It had first arisen as a popular practice in tandem with the monastic recitation of the Psalter. The 150 Hail Marys recited in the people's prayer, the rosary, corresponded to the 150 psalms, chanted by the monkss and gave a way for 409 70.4 2011 Walsh ¯ Lighting Our Modern Spirit Theology was no abstraction with this pope~ He used it to electrify~ and empower his hearers. 41:0 the laity to contemplate scenes from the gospel. This is how the rosary long functioned in the prayer life of Chris6ans who were largely illiterate. After considering why John Paul II thought it neces-sary for the papal office to enhance this lay devotional prayer, I will assess the theological reason for his having done so. While the pope could easily have been accused of authoritarian interven-tion in the private devo-tions of the faithful, or have been dismissed as a retrograde pope clinging to a pre-Vatican II tradi-tionalism, his Rosarium Virginis Mariae honors the lay contribution to tra-dition and was in accord with the Second Vatican Council's definition of the church as the "People of God," in which the laity plays an important participatory role. One consequence of the council's definition of the church as the people of God, rather than primarily as a clerical institution, was the erosion of the line between popular piety and theology. From the start, this pope's audience was the church as People of God, not the curia. This was evident in his use of the media, his international appearances, his World Youth Days, the popularity of his international best-seller Crossing the Threshold of Hope, and in the response of lay workers under Communist Poland who, heed-ing their pope's conviction on the dignity of all human beings, brought down the Iron Curtain. Theology was no abstraction with this pope. He used it to electrify and empower his hearers. In an age that saw the aban- Review for Religious donment of churches in Europe and the United States, he nourished the church spiritually by returning to the foundations of the faith. When John Paul wrote on the rosary, he did not segregate the professional theologians from believers in the pew, but embodied the Second Vatican C

Issue 13.4 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious JULY 15, 1954 Religious and Modern Needs . . Jordan Aumann Mindfulness . ¢. A. Herbsf Duns Scofus . Berard Vogt Aposfolic School . Slster M. Ange~ic]a Apparitions and Revelations . .~ugustlne G. Ellard Spirlfual Opiates . Joseph P. Fisher Saints in No-Man's Land . George Syrne =~uestions and Answers Beatifications, 1951-1952 Communications Book Reviews¯ NUMBER 4 RI VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII JULY, 1954 NUMBER CONTENTS RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS--3ordatt Aumann, O.P. 169 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 178 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 178 MINDFULNESS~. A. Herbst, S.3 . 179 COMMUNICATIONS . ' . " . . 183 DUNS SCOTUS, DEFENDER OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEP-TION-- Berard Vogt, O,F.M . 184 THE APOSTOLIC SCHOOL--Sister M. Angeli¢ia, C.S.J . 187 SACRA VIRGINITAS . . . 192 OUR ADDRESSES . 192 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS: SOME CLASSIFICATIONS-- Augustine G. Ellard, S.J . 193 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951-1952 . 205 SPIRITUAL OPIATES-~Joseph P. Fisher, S.J . 207" TO ALL THE SAINTS IN NO-MAN'S LAND~George Byrne, S.3. 211 NEW CONGREGATIONS . 216 CONGRESS IN BUENOS AIRES . 217 COMMENTARY ON LITTLE OFFICE . . ' . 217 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 22. Advice for Mystic . . 218 23. The Occasional Confessor . 219 24. Approval for Revised Customary . 219 25. Licit Disposition of Income . 219 BOOK REVIEWS-- Kateri of the Mohawks; The All-Present God; The Holy Spirit in the Christian Life; Through Him, with Him, and in Him . 220 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 223 BOOKLETS AND PAMPHLETS . 224 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . ¯ . 224 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1954, Vol. XIII, No. 4. Published bi-monthly: 3anhary, March, May,duly, 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, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.3. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Eilis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Religious Life and Modern Needs Jordan Aumann, O.P. THE General Congress On the States of Perfection, held at Rome in 1950 under the auspices of the Sacred Congregation of Religious and with the approval of Pope Pius XIi, brought to the attention of the Catholic ~orld the keen interest and paternal solicitude of the Supreme Pontiff for the condition of religious life in the modern~ world. The Congress, however, was not an unex-pected and isolated event; rather it was the culmination of a. well-laid i01an for the renewal of the primitive spirit in religious insti-tutes. As early as June, 1939, th~ Holy Father addressed 'an allocution to the members of the Gene'ral Chapter of the Friars Minor and urged them to striv~ earnestly to ,recapture the spirit of their Seraph'ic Father. Since that time, both the Holy Father and the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious have repeatedly admonished religious to re-new their interior spirit and adapt themselves to the urgent ne"eds of the presefit day. With the publication of the Acta et Documenta of the 1950 Congress, religious superiors have a handy guide for the fulfillment of the Pope's desires.1 The volume contains theological and can-onical treatises on the state of perfection as well ~.as many practical suggestioris for the adaptation and renewal that are'requested b,y the Holy See. The .Mind bf the Church ' Between 193~ and 1950, in'allocut-ions and letters to the Fran-ciscans, Jesuits, Redemptorists, Dominicans, and CanonS of St. Au-gustine, the Holy Father has stressed the need for certain adjust-ments in religious institutes in view of the conditions of modern life and for a revival of the spirit of the founders in the various in-stitutes, s, The Pontiff realizes all too keenly that in encouraging an ! !Cf. Acta et Documenta: Congressus General(s de Statibus Perfectionis, published in 1952 by Pia Sbciet;i San Paolo, Via Beato Pio X, Rome, Italy. sin an apostolic letter to the Society of Jesus on June 26, 1944, the Pope warned against the "heresy of action." In a letter to the Master General of the Domini- ¯ cans on July 16, 1946, he urged the Friars Preachers to hold fast to She regular life, monastic observances, assiduous study of sacred truth, and solemn recithtion of the Divine Office, warning them not to make a constant practice or custom of that whi'ch is only a laudable exception. ' 169 JORDAN AUMANN Review for Religious adaptation of the religious life and a return to the primitive'spirit of the founders, he is issuing a bold challenge to all religious insti-tutes. For that reason he has repeatedly warned that none of the essential elements of r'eligious life and spirit can be changed or jetti-soned, but only the accidentals and the techniques of the apos~tolat~. In his address to the Congress. on the States of' Perfectiori,3 Cardinal Piazza outlined the program of .ad,aptation and renewal and gave a precise expression of the intentions of the Holy Father this impor'tant matter. The central theme'of the Congress. w~is an accommodata renooatio, that is, a renewal of the primitive'spirit Of religious institutes adapted to the needs of the pr.esent day. Conse-quently, changes are to be made on two levels. First and most im-portant, there must be in every religious institute a return to the spirit that animated the founder and earliest members of that insti-tute. Secondly, adaptations and accommodations must be made in regard to the apostolate of each religious institute. Cardinal Piazza insisted that every religious institute should be a living continuation of the mind and spirit of its founder, for the , religious.life is ever actual and vital. If there is danger that this spirit is languishing in any institute, let that institute reform its structure, renew its directive organs, and refashion the means to end to fit the needs of the da3}. Yet, all this must be done with the approval of proper ecclesiastical authority. The best and most efficacious renewal of the spiril~ of any r~- ligious institute is a ~return to the spirit of the founder, an exact ob-' servance of the constitutions of that institute, and a promotion of common life and fraternal cha,rity. The dilemma proposed by the Cardinal can be expressed ver'y briefly: "Renew your spirit or die." But even in the midst of renewal and adaptation, major superiors Will avoid the shoals of extreme conservatism and a mania for nov-' elty. When it c~mes to the ques~i~on of adaptation in an3] religio~.s institute, the need is particularl~r felt in the field of the apostolate. Nevertheless, the urgency of the times ,demands an_d justifies an ad-justment in the accidental structure of the internal life of l~he ihsti-tute as well. Certain thing~ do not admit of a change without' the destruction of the institute. Such things belong to the substanfi~ii ele- 3Noti~ that the Congress was purposely designated as a congress on the states'of perfection in order to include the members of various secular institutes. "While not religious in a juridical sense, the members of secular institutes, since'they live un-der vow, nevertheless belong to the state of perfection. July, 1954 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS ment; for example, the juridical personality, the essence of thevows, the special' scope and characteristic spirit of the institute, and the ¯ common laws of religious life as found in the Code of Canon Law. But in regard to the methods and techniques used in the field Of the apostolate, great.adaptation is possible and desirable. If.the modern religious is not making contact with souls, if his schedule of life is at variance with that of the people to whom he is sent to min-ister, or if he is not as expert in his field of activity as are the laymen working in the same field, then'adjustments are surely in order. But at thi~ point religious superiors are reminded of the admonition of Pope Pius XII in his apostolic exhortation, Menti Nostrae, that new forms and methods in the apostolate must always be under the care and vigilance ot~ the bishops. For it is a regulation of canon law (cans. 456, 500, 630) that whenever religious are charged with the care Sf souls, they are subject to the local ordinary in that re-spect. In other words,' it is the mind of'the Pope that religious or-ders be bound by profound loyalty and obedience to: .the. Holy See and the'hierarchy. Adaptation, not Mitigation Solne religious may be tempted to welcome any change or adap-tation as a mitigation of the primitive spirit and regular observance. Both the Holy Father and representatives of the Sacred'Congrega-tion of Religious have warned that such is not the intention of the ¯ Ho!y See. In :a stirring address to the 1950 Congress, Father R. Lombardi, S.J., stated that if the needs of the time are great, so also is the need for truly religious men and women. The Church today needs religious who are animated by true charity and detachment from the things of the world, and we should expect to find many such.religious in the various institutes.' Unfortunately, we some-times find that those very men and women who have publicly bound themselves to the serious obligation of striving after perfec-tion under the vows are content to do the very minimum that is re-quired or, what is worse, they turn back again,to the very things they have voluntarily surrendered. "The times also require, said Father Lombardi, religious supe-riors who will have the leade~rship and courage to revive the spirit of the foun.ders in their own institute or province. No adaptation or renewal can come .from belo.w; it must come from those who .before God are res.ponsib!e in a large measure for the religious observance and p.e?sonal holiness of their subjects. Cofisequently, superiors have a difficult task. They are not entrus'ted with the mere enforcement. 171~. JORDAN AUMANN Reuieu~ [or Religious of an inflexible law; they must understand the needs of the times, the talents and weaknesses of their subjects, and the spirit ~f their religious institute. The superior must in every instance stri~re to act in the same way that the founder would act were he alive today. Consequently, the revival of the primitive spirit and an 'adapta-tion to present-day needs can in no sense be understgod or inter-preted as an excuse for the m~tigation of the rules and practices, of religiousllife. The Holy See has insisted that the spirit of the insti-tute, its proper e'nd and scope, and all that is requ!red for the pres-ervation of its spirit and end must be carefully safeguarded and pre-served. The renovation must be inteinal and spiritual. To think that a mere change in the legislation of a religious in-stitute will effect this renovation is as dangerous as it is erroneous. Such an attitude, stated Bishop Ancel of Lyons, is an implicit be-lief in a kind of materialism which holds that mere structural modi-fications suffice to provide the desired renovatioh. The real purpose, of the renovation is to, revivify the primitive spirit of the institute and to help the members strive more successfully after Christian,per-fection. .Only fervent religious can stand an adaptation and only strong religious can live for any length of time under dispensations. But, the Bishop continued, the desired renovation and adaptation will not come about merely by having superiors insist on the literal ob-servance of the constitutions. We must at no time lose sight of the two elements contained in the present program: revi'val of the primi-tive spirit of the institute and an adaptation to the requirements of the apostolate. Interior Life and the Apostolate No religious institute exists primarily for the apostolate or for any particular work. in, the Church. The Basis of the religious'life is the profession of vows which are used as instruments in attaining the perfection of charity. The primary purpose of the religious in-stitute is the sanctification of its members. Consequently, the true vocation and goal of the individual religious is to strive to become a .saint and the primary function of the religious superior is to assist and guide subjects to'sanctity, especially by fostering observance of the constitutions of th'e institute. This point is all important for a correct understanding'and evaluation of the religious life.4 4Cf. the,, definition of the religious state in canon 487, the statement of the purpose of religiou~ life in canon 488. and the enumeration of the obligations of religious superiors in canons 592-95. ~ 172 , JuI~,1954 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS But Christian perfection and sanctity consist primarily in char-ity, which is an interior perfection. To this end, the con~tltutions of religious institutes prescribe an external conduct and mode of life that will lead religious more readily to the perfection of charity. Thus, the constitutions of 'the Dominican.Order explicitly state that the four essential means for attaining Dominican sanctity are the regular life, monastic observances, the study of sacred truth, and the solemn recita.tion of the Divine Office and that none of these means may be substantially altered. If the constitutions of a religious institute have received the ap-probation of the Holy See,it is because they have been judged fitting means- to the attainment of evangelical perfecuon. It follows, there-fore, that whatever touches upon the essence of the vows and the substantial elements of the regular life cannot be modified or changed without destroying-the religious life as it is juridically de-fined by the Church. Moreover, no religious subject or superior is free to abandon permanently any of these substantial elements of the constitutions of his institute,s In addition to those elements that pertain to the very essence of religious life, the constitutions contain particular legislation for the preseryation of xhe spirit and aim of the institute. In this 'respect also there are things that cannot be changed without destroying the distinctive spirit and character of the religious institute. Thus, liturgical prayer is characteristic of Benedictine life, the assidu6us study of sacred truth is the mark of the Friar Preacher,. and p.o,v,- -erty is the dominant note in Franciscan life. ~ The above elements pertain to the interior life of the members of a religious institute and are directed to the attainment of pe'rfec-tion. For that reason they are of primary importance. But the Church also 'approves of a mission or apostolate for each religious in~itute, with the understanding, however, that the ~hurch may subsequently restrict or enlarge the scope of the apostolate without destroying the nature and spirit of the' institute itself. For the ~apos-t61ate is and always remains a secondary element in the religious 5The religious under vows has promised obedience to the constitutions as expressed and commanded by his superior, but the religious superior does not have unlimited power in giving commands. He must abide by the limitations placed on his au-thority by those same constitutions. The subject has vowed to obey what is-in the constitutions; the superior may not gratuitously abolish any prescriptions in the constitutions nor may he demand more of the subject than the constitutions themselves demand. ¯ 173 JORDAN AUMANN Review for Religious life; the first and most important function of any religious institute is the sanctification of its members.6 From what has been said, it follows that success in the aposto-late as a preacher, teacher, writer, or social worker is not a necessary. indication of the holiness and worth of a religious. Success in these activities may just as ~asily be the result of purely natural talent, ambition, pride, or t~e love of financial gain. A religious is not a good religious except through the observance of the constitutions which he vowed to use as a pattern and guide in his struggle for holiness. Indeed, even that does not suffice, for the observance of rules is of no value for sanctification unless motivated in some way by the love of God. The energy consumed in the labors df the apostolate, the hours spent in the classroom, pulpit, or sickroom, the inconvenience of traveling from one mission to another--none of these is the sole criterion of the value' and worth of a religious. For it is not the work that makes us holy, but the love with which we do it. This does not mean that the activity of the apostolate need ever be an obstacle to deep spirituality or even to the observance of one's constitutions. The admonitions of the Holy Father are very clear on this point. The present Pontiff encourages modern religious to strive with all their hearts to become apostles in the true sense of the word. And surely, such great founders as St. Francis, St. Dominic, and' St. Ignatius have shown us that exhausting labors are com-patible with profound sanctity. What was the secret of their suc-cess? It was due in no small measure to the fact that they never ceased to be great lovers of God and souls and .men of prayer.7 6In the ancient religious orders there was a much closer relationship between the aim or scope of the institut~ and the spirit of the institute, so that in some cases it may be difficult to change the aim of the institute without destroying the peculiar character of the institute itself. This is especially true of the older contemplative and mixed orders. The same situation does not hold true in regard to the modern active institutes. Nevertheless the same principle applies to all forms of religious" life: the work of the apostolate should proceed from a deep interior life. 7What is to be done when the individual religious judges that excessive activity is harmful to his growth in sanctity? Objectively, the answer is simple: the first obligation of the religious is to sanctify himself; the primary function of the su-perior is to help his subjects grow in holiness. But if the superior insists that the activity be continued, what can the subject do but obey, trusting to find a way to use excessive work as an instrument of sanctification and letting the superior an-swer to God if there be any culpability in such a situation? In an allocution to the Discalced Carmelites in September, 1951, the Holy Father warned superiors that they are not to be infected with a machine-age mentality so that they treat their subjects like so many machines and lose sight of the human personality. 174 dul~ , 1954 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS. Once it has been seen that the primary purpose of th~ re.ligious life is the sanctification of,its members° and that the apos~olat( should rightly prdceed from a deep interior life, it should bk evident that there is no contradiction or paradox in the directives that have beenissued from the Holy See. The first task is the revival of~ the primitiye spirit of religious institutes and a concerted effort to bring all religious back to regular observance and th~ common life. Then, the major superiors, following the directives of the Holy" See, will make suitable adaptations of that revitalized religious life to the needs of modern Christians. In some cases the adaptations may take unexpected turns. It may mean that this or that religious institute will find it necessary to abandon parishes in areas where there is no longer a shortage of diocesan clergy; others will realize that they have drifted into all manner of apostolic works, good in themselves, but outside the scope of the institute and the aim of the founder; still others will discover that they have almost completely aban-doned the principal work which was entrusted to them by the Church. It is at this point that couragequs superiors will be needed, for there is a strong temptation to succumb to passive disobedience to the Hol.y See. As Cardinal Piazza pointed out in his discourse at the 1950 Congress, if religious do not live their constitutions as conscientiously as possible and hold themselves to .the aim and work of their institute, there is no longer any distinction among religious institutes and, therefore, no reason for their existence as dist'inct groups or societies. Points for Adaptation In the various allocutions, letters, speeches, and written reports published in the Acta et Documenta of the Congress on the States of Perfection, certain points have been stressed in regard to the desired ad~aptations of religious life to modern needs. While allowing for different circumstances in various countries and religious institutes~ there are general lines which such adaptations should follow. More-over, all adaptations should be visualized and planned against,the background of the Pope's admonition that proper ecclesiastical " channels are to be observed. Observations on the cloister are to be found in Sponsa Christi as well as other documents~ that have been issued,by the Holy~ See. There is no indication that an attempt is being made to abandon the cloister; rather, the cloister is to be safeguarded even when reli-gious institutes assume some form of the apostolate that brings.the 175 ,JORDAN AUMANN Review [or Religious members into close contact with the world. It is still true that the world is to be kept out of the cloister as much as possible and that the religious are to leave the cloister only~ to bring the things of God to the world. The Holy Fat~er has urged many times that religious should make use of modern inventions in the work of' the apostolate and that they should equal and even surpass lay people in the same areas of work. But work for the sake of work or work done for a purely natural motive has never been advocated. If the apostolate is un-dertaken with such an attitude, it can be as much an obstacle to the perfection of the religious as any other impediment to spiritual growth. Much less should the works of the apostolate be measured or' motivated by purely monetary values. The apostle is such by reason of his love of God, his. commission by the ,Church, and his zeal for souls. As to the religious habit (and this principally affects .women religious), the Pope advised the teaching religious in September, 1951: "The religious habit: choose it in such a way that it becomes the expression of inward naturalness, of simplicity and spiritual modesty." Many congregations have been prompt to obey this suggestion of the Pope and have refashibned habits and veils that were unsanitary, uncomfortable, and a source ,of amazement to the laity. At various times the Hdly Father has stressed the importance if the common life and urged that superiors be truly paternal (or ma- ~ternal). The religious life should be a family life and the superiors~ should respect the individual personalities of their subjects while the subjects hold each other in truly fraternal affection. So ~losely is the common life linked with the vows and regular observance that it can be said to be the very foundation of religious spirit and dis-cipline. Consequently, anything that militates against the common life--such as personal income, excessive individualism, prolonged absences from the cloister, or unreasonable dispensations from com-munity exercises--should be eliminated as much as possible. Lastly, the very Constitutions tha~ regulate the life of an institute may at times be in need of adaptation. In his address to teaching religious the Ho~ly Father observed: "Followed in letter and in spirit,-your constitutions, too, facilitate and bring the Sister all she .needs and must do in our time to be a good teacher and educator. ¯ . .' It is possible that some details of the school schedules, certain 176 duly, 1954 ° RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS regulations--simple applications of .the Rule---certain customs which were, perhaps, in harmony with past conditions but Which today merely hinder educational work, must be adapted to new cir-cu'mstances. Let superiors and general chapters proceed in this mat-ter conscientiously, with foresight, prudence, and courage, and, where the case demands, let them not fail to submit the proposed changes to t~he competent eccles{astical authorities."_ American Adaptations It may seem that the directives and suggestions of the Holy See have little application in the United States, since from the very be-ginning there has been an'adaptation of religious life to the needs of the times. However, we shall undoubtedly find, after an honest self-examination, that we have been somewhat remiss in regard to the second aspect of the quest'ion: the renewal of the primitive reli-gious spirit and the subsequent deepening of the interigr life. Th'ree dangers or excesses especially threaten the religious life in the United States: naturalism, the loss of the spirit of mortification, and ex-cessive activity. In a country where there are many demands on the religious in the field of the apostolate and where there is no long-standing tra-dition of a Catholic" culture, it is understandable that naturalism may quite easily pervade the religious life. If the religious observ-ances and customs seem foreign or artificial to ~he American tem-perament and if the religious habit itself is gradually looked upon as an academic gown or judge's robe, to be worn only for certain functions, the religi6us may readily lose sight of the meaning of re-ligious life. Only a serious attempt to live the regular life and to actualize the spirit of his institute will make the religious con. stantly aware of his distinct state. Only a deepening interior life and super-naturai motivation will preserve the religious from the taint of naturalism. The loss of the spirit of mortification may be due in large part to the fact that many religious live under a permanent dispen-sation from the penances and mortifications prescribed by their con-stitutions, as well as the fact that the standard of life in the United States is noticeably higher than that of other countries. Whatever be the cause, there is no doubt that the universal teaching of spir-itual writers on the necessity of mortification in the spiritual life has never lost its value. Here again, a more scrupulous observhnce of the constitutions and a revival of the primitive sp_irit of the religious 177 JORDAN AUMANN : institute will go a long, way to check the inroads of mitigatibn and laxity. "Sufficient has already been said concerning the true role of action and t~e apostolate in the religious and spiritual life. It remains merely to observe that religious who are overburdened with many external activities can har'dly hope to be scholar~, writers, or stu-dents; religious who return to the cloister in a state of nervous ex-haustion are rarely in a mood that is conducive to prayer, medita-tion, or the common life; and religious who live only for the works of the apostolate are in danger of drying up at the source and of missing the real purpose of their religious profession: to strive for personal sanctity. The HQIy Father has imposed upon religious the twofold task of reviving the primitive spirit of their founders and of adapting re-ligious life and work to the needs of the Church today. It is a chal-lenge to religious to live as perfectly as possible the life which they have voluntarily embraced. If the task is accepted and the challenge is answered, we shall undoubtedly begin, to raise up saints for our times. MARIAN YEAR PLAY Counted as Mine is a play of three acts, six scenes, with a modern-dress cho-rus, suitable for performance by high school and college students or by little the-atre groups and parish drama clubs: It is the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Hope of America. Written by a Poor Clare, the author of the play, Candle in Umbria, and of the book of poems, Whom I Hao'e Looed. $1.00 per copy. Order from: Rev. Mother M. Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JORDAN AUMANN teaches at the College of Saint Teresa, Winona, Minnesota, and is the literary editor of the Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality. C.A. HERBST is a spiritual director and teacher at the Jesuit Juniorate at Florissant, Missouri. 'BERARD VOGT, of Christ the King Seminary, St. Bonaventure, New York, is a leading authority on the teaching of the great Franciscan theologian, John Duns Scotus. SISTER M. ANGELICIA is professor of psychology and edu-cation at Marymount College, Salina, Kansas. AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD is a mem-ber of our editorial board. GEORGE BYRNE is professor of ascetical theology at Milltown Park, Dublin, Ireland. JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at Flo-rissant, Missouri. 178 , /V indt:ulness C. A. Herl~st, S.J. ROUTINE can be a blight in the religious life. It can be like the rust of which Our Lord spoke, which consumes, or like the thief that breaks through and steals, treasures of potential merit for eternal life. We want to give our life to God whole-heartedly. That is what a religious is supposed to do. They espe-cially are called religious, says St. Thomas, "who dedicate their whole life to the divine service, withdrawing themselves from worldly affairs" (II-II, q. 81, a. !. ad 5). We want to real-ize our ?eligious life, to make it real, to make it religious life. Oh, yes, we go through each day of our life in religion according to the order of the day from the time we rise in the morning till we go to bed at night. We do our work and are obedient and all that, but how much of all this is mech~inical! We just go through the motions often, whereas in a life dedicated to God our aim ought to be to put our whole heart, as much as possible, into each of our actions. When we pronounce our vows, we make our religious profes-sion. We profess publicly and solemnly to lead a religious life. That is our way of life now. We profess to practice the virtues of ¯ religious living in°a striking expert way. We are professionals. We follow the profession of religion, and religion is the virtue by which we render God due worship and reverence. We are supposed to be perfectionists at that. Nothing but the best is good enough for us. That is what everybody expects of one who'follows a profession, who'claims to be expert in his specialty. A doctor of medicine is supposed and expected to be first-rate in his' line. He is expected to have the best technique, to keep up on the most up-to-date medical practices and procedures, to know his field thoroughly, to read the most recent medical journals, to consult with other specialists. Woe to the medical man who fails in any of these things! His sloth or carelessness or neglect will soon bring him into ill repute in a pro-fession where the standards are so high. He may lose his patients and will be forced to drop out of his profession. Religious are professionals. They profess to give their whole attention to the practices of the religious life, a life lived in com-mon under a rule in the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence, }~n which they are obliged to tend to perfection. In order to 179 C. A. HERBST Reoiew for Religious maintain the high standards of our profession we must be raindful of our obligations. To practice poverty properly, we must be mind-ful of poverty~ We are mindful of our vow of poverty when we frequently call to mind that we have a vow of poverty. So it is good to renew our vow often. We should do this especiall~ when we are called upon to practice it. After all, we take the vow in order to practice the virtue. As we are so often told, anyone can take a vow; but practicing it carefully is a different matter. T.he b~st way to be mindful of poverty is to wish to experience at times some of its effects; or, better, to see to it that we actually do experience them. I want to get along without things. I do not want what I do not need. And, since our poverty consists rather in dependence than in penur% I want to get permission for thifigs, I am eager to ask permission for things. When I doubt whether I need permissign or not, I get it anyway because I want to feel the effects of poverty. When I ask.permisSion for things I say, "I vow poverty to my Blessed Savior." I want what He had. I want to feel it as He did. I want to be mindful that being rich He became poor for our sakes, that through His poverty I might be rich (cf. II Cor. 8:9). Nor do I want to "stick" to things. If I have some little thing I very much like and feel attached to, I get permission to give it away. If'we are mindful of a thing, we think of it often.' If we are mindful of a thing, we love it. "Where your freasure is there is your heart also," Our Lord said. When I am mindful of chastity, I love it, I treasure it. When we loveand treasure a" tiling, we are very careful of it. We take no chances on having it soiled or on losing it. As a virgin soul in love with the Son of God and the Son of Mary, I treasure chastity, I love chastity, I jealously guard chas-tity, I am careful of chastity, I am mindful of this wonderful virtue so lovingly enshrined in my vow and 'often say, "I vow chastity to my Blessed Savior." "I want what You had," I say to Him. So We are very circumspect about persons, places, and things. When we are mindful of chastity, we are not scrupulous but just careful in our dealings with others, of where we go and what we do and hear and see. It__ is foolish to look for trouble. There are many temptations we need not have, should not have, dare not have. If we are careless in what we see and read, try to hear everything, let the sensuous and pleasure-loving world in through all the avenues of our se,nses, and are always seeking the comfortable and avoiding the disagreeable, we are not mindful of the defenses of chastity. We 180 dul~], 1954 " , MINDFULNESS practice mortification of the senses and shun worldliness in order to guard the outworks of this beautiful and delicate virtue. When I keep the rules of modesty, I am mindful of chastity. When I mor-tify my eyes, my ears, and my affections, I prove that I love the purity of Christ. When often during each day, in practicing these little mortifications, I say, "I vow chastity to my Blessed Savior," I am mindful of my determination to lead a virgin life. I am mindful of my vow of obedience when, on being told to do a thing I do it and pray, "I vow obedience to my Blessed Savior." Obedience of execution--that is, doing externally what I am told to do--is obedience of the first degree; but I am not satisfied with that. If I am truly mindful of obedience, I want to pass to a higher de-gree. I not only do what I am told but want to do it, will what the superior wills because that is God's ~will for me. I'line up my will with that of the superior because in doing that I am conforming my will to God's will. That is love: the union of two wills. I am still more mindful of obedience if I try to see things the superior's way, conform my mind° and judgment to his way of thinking. This is the third and highest degree of obedience; sometimes called "blind" obedience, it is not really blind at all but rather very keen-visioned and enlightened. When I am thoroughly mindful of obedience, I obey not only faithfully and willingly and lovingly but with joy. The perfect and infinitely lovable model of obedience is Jesus at Nazareth. With what joy this loving Child must have obeyed Joseph and Mary! One can scarcely imagine anything like reluctance or sourness in Our Lord's obedience. The atmosphere was filled with gladness in that wonderful home. And so it should be in ours; and that not only in the practice of obedience, but of poverty and chastity too. What gives me the greatest consolation in my religious life is that, when I "do what the superior says, follow carefully the order of the day and the prescriptions of the rule and the customs of the house, etc., I am most certainly doing God's will. I just cannot make a mistake in being perfectly obedient. Should an official in the house, or the local superior, or the highest superior for that matter, make a mistake, I myself am doing God's will by obeying in everything save sin. I show that I am mindful.of obedience by doing lovingly and joy-fully for God whatever I am directed to do. To be mindful of poverty, chastity, and obedience: to expressly renew my vows and prayerfully and carefully bring my actions under them and so practice the virtues they enshrine: this indeed is a 18"1 C. A~ HERBST Review for Religious bl~ssed mindfulness. To be mindful, too, that I am profssional, that in the service of God I am following the highest of professions here on this earth, will b~ing my religious life to its "highest vi[ality. There are some other things, too, of which I should be mindful in order that I may lead a vigorous and highly meritorious religious life. Purity of intention--frequently, fervently, lo4ingly re-offer-ing to.God all my works and prayers' and joys and sufferings for the salvation and sanctification of myself and others, in adoration, reparation, thanksgiving, and petition--is one of the chief general means to perfection. To say frequently, fervently, thoughtfully, lovingly, "All for 3esus through Mary," or "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost," is to turn all our good or indifferent actions into the pure gold of merit for eternal life and to win for souls graces beyond measure. Mindfulness too of the presence of God is a wonderful, easy, joyous, consoling, and elevating practice. The Old Testament seems to have emphasized the idea of God present near and around us; the law of love brought by Christ Our Lord emphasizes God within us. "If any man love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him" (3ohn 14:23). God, the Most Holy Trinity, lives in my soul as in His temple, as in His shrine. How the pray-erful, lingering, loving thought of this presence rejoices and elevates the soul! And He lives not in my soul only, but in my body. "Know you not that your members are the temple of the Holy Ghost, w, ho is in you, whom y6u have from God; and you are not your own?" (I Cor. 6:19). "Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? But if any man violate the temple of God, him shall God destroy. For the temple of God is holy, which you are" (I cor. 3:16-17). "Not my will but thine be done" was Our Lord's repeated prayer in the Garden of Olives. He is but praying here as He taught us all to pray in the perfect prayer, the Our Father. To be mindful of this under the aspect of abandonment to God's holy will in the duty of the present moment will bring great peace and joy into the heart of a religious. No one, I think, has ever presented this in finer fashion than Father de Caussade in his book Abandonment to Di-vine Providence. "The present moment is the ambassador of God to declare His mandates. The heart listens and pronounces its 'fiat.' . . . No soul can be truly nourished, fortified, purified, en-riched, and sanctified except in fulfilling the duties of the present 182 dult!, 19 5 4 COMMUNICATIONS moment. What more would you have? As in this you can find all good, why seek it elsewhere?° Do you kno.w better than God? As He ordains it thus why do you desire it differently? Can His good-ness and wisdom be deceived? When you find something to be in accordance with this divine wisdom and goodness ought you not to conclude that it must needs be excellent?" (I, i, 5 and 7.) Finally, there is mindfulness of the greatest of all the virtues, charity. "And the greatest of these is charity." "Love one an-other." This is the new commandment which the Divine Son brought down to Us from the bosom of our Father. This is the law of love. We should be mindful especially of Christ in our breth-ren. See Him there and love Him there. "What you do to these the least of m~rb r/ethren you do unto me." If we were mindful of this there would be an end to harsh and uncharitable attitudes of mind toward others and to rash judgments. Uncharitable talk and criticism would be no more, nor jealousy, nor faultfinding, nor deeds that wound the soul. Mindfulness of Christ in our brethren is most important in a religious family. It makes a heaven of a re-ligious house. "Little children, love one another." ommun{catdons Reverend Fathers : In the November, 1952, number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I read a communication by Sister M. Immaculata, P.C. (Abbess). I was forcibly struck by this statement. "It is not what enriches us but what effaces us that leads to union with God" (p. 314). This very sentence has ever been and continues to be a positive mental and spiritual stimulus in my spiritual life. It has helped me more than any sermon or conference to conquer pride, especially pride of am-bition. It smoothed many a rough place for me. When pride as-serted itself and all was in a turmoil, this sentence proved to be a sacramental by calming my spirit and restoring peace. I hereby wish to express my grateful appreciation to Sister M. Immaculatao P.C.--TEACHING SISTER. 183 Duns Scot:us, Det:encler ot: t:he Jmmaculal:e Concepl:ion Berard Vogt, O.F.M. JOHN DUNS SCOTUS was born in Scotland in 1266. He entered the Franciscan Order at an early age and pursued his studies at Oxford. One of the more eminent theologians of the thirteenth century, he taught with great distinction both at Ox-ford and at Paris. He was called to Cologne in the summer of 1308 and died there unexpectedly in November of the same year. Duns Scotus is the leader of the Franciscan school of philosophy and theology. It is a historical fact .that popular Catholic tradition for centuries inclined towards belief in the doctrine of the Immaculate Concep-tion, as is evident from the introduction of a special feas~ of the Im-maculate Conception into the liturgy of the Church and from the gradual spread of the feast throughout Christendom. But the the-ologians and Doctors of the Church hesitated to ascribe this beauti-ful privilege to Mary because they found it impossible to solve cer-tain inherent difficulties, until Scotus appeared upon the scene and offered his p~e-redemption solution which p~epared the way for and ultimately was incorporated into the solemn dogmatic definition of the Immaculate Conception. The central difficulty was the Pauline teaching concerning the' need of universal redemption, found in the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans: "Through one man sin entered the world, and through sin death, and thus death has passed into all men, because all have sinned." Duns Scotus made two important contributions to the contro-v'~ rsy. Admitting that Mary as a descendant of Adam stood in need of redemption because of the sin of Adam, he offered a novel solution to the subtle difficulties which had for so long baffled theo-logians by introducing into the solution of the problem the idea of pre-redempti6n and a distinction between order of nature and order of time. ' The views of the theologians may be stated generally by quoting the following passsage from the Summa of St. Thomas: "If tBe soul ot~ the Blessed Virgin had never been defiled by original sin, I84 gulg, J954 $ DuNSSCOTUS this Would derogate from the dignity of Christ according to which He is the Redeemer of all mankind. It may be said, therefore, that under Christ, who as universal Savior needed not to be saved Him-self, the Blessed Virgin enjoyed the highest, measure of purity. For Christ in no wise contracted original sin, but was holy in His ~¢ery conception . The Blessed Virgin, however, did contract original sin, but was cleansed therefrom before birth." (III, q. 27, a. 2, ad 2.) The Subtle Doctor answers this argument as follows: on the contrary, in defending Mary's prerogative of the Immaculate Con-ception, I am in fact attributing a more exalted and perfect role of redeemer to Christ, inasmuch as redeeming grace Which preserves from original sin is g,reater than that which merely-purifies from sin incurred. Christ was Mary's Redeemer and Mediator more per-fectly by preservative redemption. By preserving Mary from original sin in view of the foreseen merits of His sacrifice .on Calvary, Christ not merely redeemed her, but pre-redeemed her. This implies far greater grace and a far greater excellency of redemption. Scotus thus laid to rest the century-old objections derived from the Pauline doctrine concerning the need of universal redemp-tion, found al?eady with St. Augustine, St. Anselm, and St. Ber-nard, and later with the scholastic doctors. Rightly understood the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception will not offer any difficulty pre~centing Mary's noble prerogative. The need of incurring orig-inal sin, and equally the need of universal redemption by Christ, was not denied by Scotus. Nor did he claim that Mary as a daughter of Adam escaped this universal law. Mary was a d~lughter of Adam, he explained, before she was an adopted daughter of God. Therefore she was subject to original sin and in need of redemption. As a child of A'dam, she would in the ordinary course of events and according to the ordinary course of nature have incurred Adam's debt like other men. But in the order of time God could give her sanctifying, grace at the very moment of her conception. In this way Mary, though a child of Adam in the order of nature, would be made a child of God by the infusion of grace"before original sin could take effect in her soul. Inasmuch as generation precedes sanctification, Mary was a daughter of Adam before she became an adopted daughter of God. Therefore, she must have been in need of redemption, because sub-ject to original sin. But though in the order of our thoughts our 185 BER!kRD VOGT minds may dwell on Mary---conceived first as a daughter of Adam and then sanctified as a daughter of God, this does not imply a pri-ority of time which would demand in the soul of Mary" two succes-sive states, one of sin and the other of grace. There is only in her at the first moment of her existence a twofold relation: that of a daughter of Adam, for which she was indebted to her. human gen-eration, subject to the common law and establishing the debt of sin; and that of a daughter of God, which she owes to the privileged sanctification which protected her from the consequences of the common law find extinguished in her the debt of sin by a special ap-plication of the foreseen merits of the Savior. The Subtle Doctor sums up his views thus: "Mary, then, needed redemption more than anyone else. She needed redemption so much the more, the greater the good conferred upon her. Since perfect innocence is a greater good than remission of sin after a fall, a greater good was conferred upon her (by her Divine Son) by pre-serving her from original sin, than if she had been purified after-wards. Neither was it necessary on that account that Christ should have first suffered, because Abraham was purified from orig-inal sin which was in his person by virtue of the foreseen Passion of Christ." (Rep. III, dist 3, Qu. I, n. 8; ed. Vives xxiii, p. 264.) Duns Scotus exercised enduring powerful influence on the devel-opment and eventual dogmatic proclamation of the doctrine of the, Immaculate Conception. By his historic defense with its luminous definitions and distinctions, e.g., his pre-redemption theory and his suggestion of a distinction between the order of nature and the order of time, the Subtle Doctor cleared the dogmatic ground and greatly contributed to a final victorious solution. Cardinal Merry del Val in a letter to Fr. P. Pauwels, July 4, 1904, says of Scotus that he carried the torch of Mary's non-for-feiture of grace as on the crest of a wave to its ultimate triumph. ABOUT FRAUDS Some people who want to get money without effort are wont to request gifts and Mass stipends in the names of certain priests and missionaries. The victims, real or intended, are often sisters. Some priests whose names have been used in this way suggest that all such requests be refused unless those making the requests. can furnish positive identification. Similarly, we might again call attention to the fact that no one is authorized to solicit subscriptions for this REVIEW, 186 The Apos!:olic School Sister M. Angelicia, C.S.J. AT A GENERAL CHAPTER conducted at the Nazareth Motherhouse of the Sisters of Saint doseph of Concordia, Kansas, in dune, 1953, it was decided that an approach should be made toward the organization of a school for aspirants to the religious life which would be in connection with the mother-house. A committee was appointed to investigate the possibilities of such an organization. The first step taken by the committee was to locate convents or motherhouses to which were attached such schools for aspirants. As indicated in the Catholic Directory, there were sixty-eight mother-houses having schools similar to the type which the community had in mind. For the purpose of gathering information relative to the new project a questionnaire was formulated and was sent to each of these sixty-eight motherhouses. Fifty-seven, or approxi-mately eighty-four per cent, of the questionnaires were returned. The information received was both interesting and enlightening. The questionnaire, together with a digest of the answers, is given at the conclusion of this article. Before taking further steps in the organization of this school, we consulted the local ordinary, the Most Reverend Frank A. Thill, D.D., Bishop of Salina. The project met with his whole-hearted approval, as will be seen later in his letter to the priests of his diocese, as well as in those addressed to parents and their chil-dren. Moreover, since our congregation is a papal institute, and since our constitutions state explicitly that no new works are to be added without the permission of the Holy See, the mother general inquired from an official source whether the permission of the Sacred Congregation of Religious would be needed. She was informed that, in view of the remarks made by Father Arcadio Larraona, Secretary of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, at the 1952 meeting of superiors general in Rome, special permission of the Holy See was not needed for starting this school. A resum~ of Father Larraona's remarks has been made public. Since its contents were very helpful to us, and since it seems to be of vital importance to anyone planning to organize a school for aspi-rants, we quote this resum6 in full: 187 SISTER M. ANGELICIA Review for Religious "Apostolic schools are of comparatively recent origin, the .earli-est of them dating from about the middle of the last century. They have now become increasingly common in religious communities of women, as they are the general practice in communities of men. The Holy See has issued practically no legislation on the organization of such apostolic schools. The S. Congregation is patiently awaiting the guidance of experience. "These apostolic schools are not permitted by the S. Congrega-tion for cloistered nuns, or for religious whose lives closely approxi-mate to that of cloistered nuns. This is not.a real law of the Holy See, but rather a guiding norm, based on Rome's desire to avoid any semblance of pressure when there is question of a vocation calling for such special qualities as those required by the contemplative life. "The S. Congregation regards apostolic schools as internal schools of a religious community. This point is of canonical im-portance in determining the degree of freedom to be allowed the community in the organization and administration of these schools: a) those which do not require any actual signs of vocation to the religious life: b) those which demand at least the seeds of vocation to the religious life; c) those which require signs of a vocation to a specific type of religious life. "In any case, the organization and rules of an apostolic school should not lose sight of the fact that the girls in them are young. The atmosphere as far as possible, shoul~l be that of a family. The apostolic schools should not be turned into a noviciate in miniature. There should be nothir;g to interfere with the full freedom of the candidates in the final determination of their vocation. The pro-gram of studies should not be so highly specialized as to make ad-justment to a different type of life outside difficult. Teach the girls, first of all, to live good Christian lives. No asceticism at ,the expense of the moral law. Avoid~ whatever might even remotely result in deformation of the natural qualities and virtues of the candidates.''I With encouragement coming from every .direction, especially from our bishop, for the opening of an apostolic school by the Sisters of Saint 3oseph, it was thought best to begin,to make it known to the public. Publicity concerning the school appeared in many Catholic papers. The two most important announcements 1Cf. Acta et Documenta Congressu~ lnternationalig Superiorissarurn "Generalium, 1952, p. 274. These remarks on apostolic schoq!s form one part of Father Lar-raona's "Concluding Instructions addressed to the Reverend Mothers General," on the last day of their meeting in Rome, September 11-13, 1952. 188 Jul~,1954 THI~ APOSTOLIC SCHOOL were those ap1~aring in the diocesan Catholic Register. The first of these, entitled "Apostolic School to be Opened in Concordia in 1954," appeared in the November 1'5, 1953, issue of the Catholic Register. Excerpts from this article are as follows: "Concordia.--In the fall of 1954 the Sisters of Saint Joseph will open an Apostolic School in connection with their Mother-house in Concordia. "This preparatory school is intended for young girl's who show signs of a religious vocatio,n and who wish to join th~ Congregation of the Sisters of. Saint Joseph when circumstances permit. It is especially for those aspirants to the religious life who have not the opportunity of attending a Catholic h~gh school or who are placed in circumstances detrimental to a religious vocation. "The mode of life at the preparatory or Apostolic School will be practically the same as that of resident,students at an academy. The young women will follow the regular high school course as prescribed by the State Department of Education. All the advan-tages of the regular high school course will be available to the stu-dents in the Apostolic School . "Work in the classroom will be regularly and agreeably inter-rupted by daily indoor and outdoor recreational activities. The girls of this school will be allowed to return to their families during the summer vacation as Well as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter vacations. "Those interested, .or who desire further information, may write to the Mother General, Nazareth Motherhouse, Concordia, Kansas." Bishop Thill .not only gave his whole-hearted support to the organization of an a~ostolic school but he asked that each parish in the Salina diocese finance the monthly board and tuition fee at the new apostolic school for any deserving girl whose parents could not afford the sum. His Excellency announced simultaneously that he was prepared to accept personal financial responsibility for ten such girls in the school of the Sisters of the Congregation of Saint Joseph of Concordia. Excerpts from the Bishop's letter concerning the school are as follows: "Rev, erend dear Fathers, Venerable Religious, Parents and Chil-dren : ' "Because I simply do not believe there is any such thing as a Divine vocation to embrace the, wrong vocation, I am concerned in a very vital and humane way with the establishment of the new 189 SISTER M. ANGELICIA Reoiew [or Religious Apostolic School by our Sisters of the Congregation of St. 3oseph of Concordia. I have been a priest too long, and a Chancellor and ¯ a Bishop, to be able to see anything desirable or even tolerable in the crushing frustrations and black unhappiness that burden so many men and women in our modern world. "In other words, I want to see the largest possible number of girls in this diocese given the opportunity to spend the critical years of their l~ves in an atmosphere that will help them to put first things first . It does not matter if the girls who enroll become religious sisters or not. Many of them will; but those who don't will have a first-class Catholic high school education, fitting them for places of trust and leadership in the parishes from which they come . "The openin~ of this school will certainly be good news to the pastors of the diocese. I recommend its purpose and its needs to the consideration of all our priests, and I hope they will agree with me in thinking it worthy of our enthusiastic and generous sup-port . "In conclusion, may I say to all of you, priests, people and children, that today's struggle is not primarily and exclusively a struggle against anything at all including even the struggle against bad tendencies and sin. It is, more fundamentally still, a struggle for something. Indeed, it is a struggle to be something, to be another Christ, possessed by the torrent of His life and of His love that alone can save the world. " As this paper is being, written the applications ot: aspirants to the apostolic school are coming in in a very satisfactory manner. If these applications continue they should gealize an enrollment of at least thirty students or aspirants to the religious life when the school opens in September, 1954. The Questionnaire and Replies I. DO. YOU MAINTAIN A PREPARATORY. SCHOOL FOR THE RELI-GIOUS LIFE? Yes, 50; No, 6; in former years, 1. ¯ 3. WHAT IS THE NAME OF YOUR SCHOOL? It is called: ' (A) A Juniorate, 13. (B) A.School for Aspirants, 26. ¯.(C) A Preparatory School, 9. ¯ . . (D). Others? Scholasticate, 1. ¯ Candidature, 1. 190 HOW LONG 'INKS IT BEEN ORGANIZED? Average, 23 years. duly, 1954 THE APOSTOLIC SCHOOL. 4. DO YOU FAVOR SUCH A SCHOOL? YES, 48; NO, 2. IF "YES" GIVE THE MOST OUTSTANDING ADVANTAGES.The most com-mon answers were: (A) "Prepares for the religious life." (B) "Fosters vocations." (C) "Gives members to our community." (D) "Gives a more solid foundation for future religious life." (E) "Our best vocations come from the juniorate." (F) "Because of the great percentage of vocations resulting." (G) "It gives girls a chance to study their vocations in surroundings con-ducive to spiritual life." 5. APPROXIMATELY W~AT PERCENTAGE OF ASPIRANTS BECOME RELIGIOUS? Average, 54%: range, 7% to 100%. 6. WHAT EDUCATIONAL LEVEL DO YOU ADMIT GIRLS? (A) First year high school, 41. (B) Second year high school, 21. (C) Third year high school, 26. (D) Fourth year high school, 26. 7. WHAT IS THE LONGEST TIME THE ASPIRANT IS KEPT BEFORE ENTERING THE POSTULATE? (A) One year, 2. (B) Two years, 4. (C) Three years, 14. (D) Three and one-half years, 7. (E) Four years, 19. 8. WHAT COURSE OF STUDY DO THE ASPIRANTS PURSUE? (A) "The regular high school course," 18. (B) ".College preparatory," 5. (C) "Classical Course," 2. (D) "Academic," 19. (E) "Academic and Commerce," 1. 9. ARE THERE REQUIRED SPIRITUAL EXERCISES? IF SO, OF WHAT DO THEY CONSIST? (A) "Daily attendance at Mass," 50. (B) "Rosary in common," 21. (C) "Spiritual reading," 24. (D) "Morning and night prayers in common," 21. (E) "Meditation," 18. (F) "Vespers," 6. (G) "Attendance at Benediction," 8. 10. HOW MUCH TIME IS GIVEN TO RECREATION? Average number of hours, 2~. WHAT TYPE OF RECREATION IS FOLLOWED? (A) "Indoor and outdoor sports," 44. (B) "S~tuare dancing," 24. (C). "Singing," 24. (D) "Dramatics," I0. (E) "Needlework, card-playing, etc." SISTER M. ANGELICIA 12. 13. WHAT FEE ISCHARGED FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR? $133.93 is the average yearly fee. The fee for one year ranged from ten dollars to four hun-dred dollars. IS THE TUITION FEE REFUNDED IN CASE THE ASPIRANT EN-TERS THE COMMUNITY? YES, 1; NO, 49. ARE INCIDENTAL EXPENSES 'MAINTAINED BY THE ASPIRANT'S FAMILY?. YES, 44; NO, 6. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. DO THE ASPIRANTS SPEND VACATION PERIODS AT HOME? YES, 43; NO, 2: "PART TIME," 1. (A) Christmas, 41. (B) Easter, 23. (C) Thanksgiving, 21. (D) Summer, 33. ARE ASPIRANTS EXPECTED TO FOLLOW ANY SPECIAL, PRO-GRAM DURING VACATION, PERIODS? IF SO, WHAT? YES, 15; NO, 31. See question 9 for suggested program. ARE VISITS OF RELATIVES RESTRICTED? YES, 39: NO, 7; IF RESTRICTED, EXPLAIN. NO ws~tmg permitted during Lent and Ad-vent in majority of cases. The first Sunday of the month is suggested for visiting friends and relatives. DO YOU HAVE REGULATIONS FOR CORRESPONDENCE? YES, 43: NO, 5; NO ANSWER, 2. ESO THE ASPIRANTS WEAR UNIFORMS? YES, 49; NO. I. SACRA VIRGINITAS According to a news announcement in The Register, the encyclical Sacra Vir-ginitas, which Pope Plus XII issued on March 25, 1954, is now available in pam-phlet form, complete with footnotes, from the NCWC Publications O~ce, 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, Washington 5, D.C. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Business communications, such as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR REL!GIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Boobs for review should be sent to: book Review Editor, REVIEW,FOR RE-LIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as ma.nuscripts, questions, letters for publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St. Marys.' Kansas. 1'92 Apparitions and Revelations: Some Classit:ications Augustine G. Ellard, S.3. IN A PREVIOUS discussion some el~mentary suggestions were offered as to what attitudes one should take toward private ap-paritions and revelations, whether one's own or those reported of others (REVIEW FOR' RELIGIOUS° XIII [3anuary, 1954], 3-12). Now it is proposed to recall some of the descriptive classifications of such 6ccurrences that help one to think more intelligently and clearly'about them. ~[. DEFINITIONS AND DIVISIONS In an apparition a person or object is presented before, the con-sciousness of somebody at a time and place at which that presence is naturally inexplicable. For example, at the baptism of Christ a dove symbolizing the Spirit of God was seen descending from above and lighting upon Him (Matthew 3:16-17; 3ohn 1:32-34). On the same occasion a voice from heaven was heard proclaiming, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.''1 In a revelation in the proper sense God communicates some truth to one I~y way of speech. He does not manifest to one the objective truth itself, as He would in infused knowledge. He does express His ideas on it and thus let one know His mind about it.Of course it is also possible for the Blessed Virgin or an angel or a saint from h.eaven to speak to one. Evidently such an occurrence would be more than natural. Speech need not necessarily be in words; equivalent signs are con-sidered amply sufficient. Apparitions are in some way seen, revelations heard. Either may take place without the other. But they do come together so often that it is logical to treat them both at the same time. When, for instance, Bernadette Soubirous saw the beautiful maiden at Lourdes, she also heard the words, "I am the Immaculate Conception!" 1. Apparitions: Oculqr, In~aginati~e, Intellectual Probably the commonest classification of apparitions is that based upon the faculties involved. Some visions are external, sen, ]New Testament quotations in this article are taken from the translation made by Francis Aloysius Spencer, O.P. (New York: Macmillan, 1943). : 193 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Review for Religious ;sible, perceptible to the eyes, ocular. In this case an exterior objective reality of some sort outside of one is simply and literally seen. Thus, for example, Constantine is said to have beheld a cross in the sk~, with the inscriptiori, "In this sign shalt thou conquer!" When many people together perceive an apparition, the presumption is that it is external and really activates the eyes. Such were the appear-ances of Christ after the Resurrection; such also was the vision of the multitude at Fatima. Other apparitions take place in the interior senses and are termed imaginative. They are not imagina~ry, like hallucinations, but real and true in their own way, which, however may be misap-prehended. When one sees something, an image of it is produced not only upon the retina of the eyes but also in the interior faculty that psychologists call the imagination. God could easily bring about such a likeness without there being any corresponding exterior ob-ject present. Nor, if it should be of divine origin, would there be an hallucination and deception. It would convey to the mind in a merely internal way some truth intended by God. The vision granted to St. Peter and recounted in Acts 10:9-16 seems to be of this type. Peter "fell into an ecstasy; and he beheld heaven opened, and a kind of vessel descending, as it were, a great sheet ldt down by the four corners to the earth, in which were all kinds of quadrupeds and reptiles of the land, and birds of the sky." As is evident from the whole story, the apostle learned from this symbolic representa-tion in his imagination that he was to admit Gentiles as well as Jews into the Chur4b. In practice it may be very difficult to differentiate between ocular and imaginative visions, but if they are true and of divine origin it may be of only theoretical interest whether they be the one or the other. A third form of apparition is purely intellectua!~ Some person or. object is presented directly to the seer's intelligence, without the mediation of the eyes or the interior senses. This sort of vision is like that whereby an angel would see things, and therefore it is de: cidedly superhuman. It is also quite an indescribable experien~ce, except ~of course remotely and analogously. Of a vision of this kind St. Teresa wrote: "Jesus Christ seemed to be by my side continu-ally, and as this vision was not imaginary, I saw no form"--that is, it was not represented in her imagination--( Life, Ch. 27 : -Peers's translation, I, 170). 194 dulg, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS 2'. On "'Seeing" God . : ¯ ¯ The great mystics often speak of "seeing" God, as well as of having visions of lesser persons or objects. Hence an immense dif-ference must be noticed between visions that have as their object the Creator Himself, in whatever sense He is said to be seen, and created persons or things. There is all the distinction between having to do with the infinite God Himself or with some finite creature. Mystics "see" God in at least two senses. At times their infused contempla-tive knowledge of Him, which is usually obscure and general, be-comes relatively so clear and definite thht they feel it must be described as "vision" rather than, for instance, as contact. Of con-templative vision St. Thomas writes: "In contemplation God is seen through the medium which is the light of wisdom elevating the mind to perceive divine things, though not so that the divine essence itself be immediately seen" (De Veritate, XVIII, 4). In addition to this and as a particular favor in some cases contemplatives are granted special manifestations of God, or of Some of the divine at-tributes, or of the Blessed Trinity, and these they speak of as "visions of God." Thus Blessed Angela of Foligno, a great Italian mystic of the thirteenth century, describes such visions: "When the most high God cometh unto the rational soul, it is at times given her to see Him, and she seeth Him within her, without any bodily form,and she seeth Him more clearly'than one mortal man can see another; for the eyes of the soul behold¯ a fulness, spiritual not bod-ily, about which I can say nothing at all, for words and imagina-tion fail me. Moreover in this vision the s6ul is delighted with un-utterable'delight, and then she looketh at nothing else save that alone; for this it is that filleth the soul beyond all that can be reck-oned." (Visions and Instructions: ch. 52; apud Poulain, The Graces of Interior Pra~ler, p. 267.) - '. .: 3. Reoelatfons: Auu'cular, [magi'f~ative, Intellectaa[ '" ,o.Like apparitions, revelations or locutions fail into three grou.'ps; according to the faculty to wlqich they are ~mmediately addressed. Some of them include r&l external ~unds'and ate perceivM b) the ~ear. An e.xample from the New Testament is that' of,.tl-ie utterance described in. John 12:28-30. . In a-'talk ~to:~the'.p~ople_ of. Jerusalem shortly before .His: :death Jesus 'said'; ' "'Father;" save Me from. this hour!, But for thi~ very ptirpose.:.I ,came.io this : hour. Father, gl.orify Thy-name! There::came:.theret~bre.a::.Voic'e,:~out of-'heaven., !k,have 'both glorified it,. and. wil.! glorif'.y;:it~:!again.' Thecrowd,, ac~ 195 Review [or Religious cordingly, who stood by and heard it, said that it had thundered. Others said, 'An angel has spoken to Him.' Jesus addressed them and said, 'This voice has not come for My sake, but for yours.' " Other revelations are directed straight to the interior senses and are termed imaginative. In normal communic~ations between "human persons there is a double threefold process. In the speaker there is first of all thought, then formulation of it in words in the phantasy or imagination, and lastly utterance of it with the vocal orgahs. In the hearer the correspohding steps occur in the reverse order: audi-tory perception, representation in the" phantasy, and finally under-standing in the mind. When G6d, or an angel, communicates His ideas, He can skip the first act in the bearer's process and address Him~lf directly to the imagination. This is very~ probably what happened to St. Joseph when an angel of the Lord appeared to him "in a dream-vision, saying, 'Arise and take the Child and His mother, and fly to Egypt, and remain there until I tell thee; for Herod is about to hunt for the Child to destroy Him' " (Matthew 2:13). A spirit, whether divine or angelic, can also impart ideasI directly to one's intelligent:e, and thus we have purely intellectual lodutions and auditions. Lucie Chlistine (a distinguished French mystic, a woman of social position and the mother of several children: whose personal notes, written only for her director, were published under this pseudonym after her'death in 1908), says of a certain intellec-tual communication of this nature that she received: "Whilst at prayer this kind God deigned to fi!l my soul with His light and said to me interiorly: 'I myself am the glory.' . . ; The divine words. ,carry with them an ineffable unction by which the soul recognizes in some manner the voice of God. Moreover, they impress them-. selves forcibly upon the soul and operate what they utter. I had ob-served this before I read about it. These interior accents cannot bear any comparison to those words which sometimes are formed ~y the imagination." (Spiritual Journal of Lucie Christine, pp. 24-25.) 4. Special Terminology 9f St. dohn of the Cross St. John of the Cross has a classification of supernatural "lwords" and a peculiar terminology, for them that are original. Since his divisions and his ways of naming them are very often re-fer~ ed to, one .who wishes to be well-informed in the field should know them. With respect to "supernatural locutions, which are apt to come to the spirits of spiritual persons without the intervention" 196 duly, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS of any b~dily sense," he writes: "These, although they are of many kinds, may,. I believe, all be reduced to three, namely, successive, for-mal, and substantial" (Ascent of Mr. Carmel, II, 18; Peers's trans-lation, I, 208): "Successive words" are not really language coming from another person, as St. ,John himself explains in what immedi-atel~ follows; they are nothing more than words formed by certain people in the depths of their own personality while in a state of pro-found recollection. In.such utterances one is rather speaking to one-self. "Formal words" do come from somebody el'se, and outside of periods of recollection as well as within them. St. John adduces the example of the archangel Gabriel who spoke to the prophet Daniel about the coming of the Messiah. "O Daniel, [ am now come forth to teach thee, and that thou mightest undersand . Seventy weeks are shortened upon thy people, and upon thy holy city, that trans-gression may be finished, and sin have an end . and everlasting justice may be brought; and vision and prophecy may be fulfilled; and the saint of saints may be anointed . " (Daniel, 9:20-27.) "Substantial words" are those that promptly and vigorously effect jtist what they express; thus, for instance, if one were overwhelmed with fear and God should say, "Fear thou not!" one "would at once be con.scious of great fortitude and tranquillity" (Op. cir., I, 219) . 5. Reoelations: Public and Pr~'oate Of all the distinctions to be made between revelations the most important by all means i~ that beween public and private revela-tions. Public revelation is that which was made long ago, meant 'for mankind generally, and entrtisted to the Church.It is a primary purpose of the Church to guard, interpret, and proclaim to all the truths of this revelation. It originally came into the world from God through the prophets and especially through Christ and the Apostl'es. All other revelations are termed private., even though in par-ticular respects they may take on a very popular character. " They are indeed messages from God, or at least from some sacred person. They hre not addressed directly to the Church as such, and they never :become a part of the deposit of faith. One could not accept them ~ith "divine and Catholic faith." Certain apparitions and revelations of the Blessed Virgin cutting in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have attained con- ~iderable importance in the 'life of the Church. The use of. the 197 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reoiew for Religious Miraculous Medal goes" b~ack,: tb.'i'fii~i~earahces.~of' the Mother° of' G'6d . to-SiSt&~Catherine Labour& of the Daughters of Charity, in the year 1830 at ¯Paris. Everybody knows about Lourdes, and now also Fatima. Another case that became famous in France, but is less well known generally, is that of La Salette. Near La Salette, in eastern France, in the year 1846, two children, Melanie Calvat, a girl of fifteen, and Maximin Giraud, a boy of eleven, affirmed that they had seen "a beautiful lady" while engaged in watching some cows near a stream. They received a message from her to be con-veyed to all the lady's people. It inculcated the necessity of doing penance and of leading a good Christian life. Also each of the chil-dren was entrusted with a special secret. Eventually these secrets were transmitted to Pope Pius IX. Over this vision there raged for a considerable time a great controversy. Finally, after careful in-vestigation, it was officially approved in 1851 by the Bishop of the Diocese of Grenoble. On .the occasion of the centennial celebration it received a certain papal confirmation in a letter sent by Pope Pius XII to the Superior General of the Institute of the Missionaries of La Salette. II. FATHER STAEHLIN'S OBSERVATIONS Not lohg ago the Spanish Jesuit, Father Carlos Maria Staehlin, published in Razon y Fe (1949, vol. 139, pp. 443-464; 546-562: vol. 140, pp. 71-98) the results of an elaborate study of apparitions and revelations as they have taken place in the history of the Church during the last 150 years. 1. The Two Currents First of all, Father Staehlin points out that in this record two currents of apparitions and revelations are to be distinguished: the m~jsticaland the non-ro~lsticali The first current is observ~ible in men and women who were favored with the central phenom~hon of mysticism, that is, infused contemplation. Typically this line is exemplified in the saints, or at least in very hMy. persons of mature .age. In these people, there-fore, were to be found both a sup.erior form of mental prayer and a high degree of virtue. At times, and in some cases only, to increase their ¯intimacy with God they were .granted apparitions of various sacred persons or things. Re'velations given in connection with such apparitions are of course private, and .may also be:.,calied particular. In'th~ lives:of: the saints there occurs also at/other kind of revelation that may be termed social. It is meant mor~ for the. good of nu- 1'98 du1~,1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS merous other persons than for the advantage of the individual re-cipient. The .communications concerning the Sacred Heart made to St. Margaret Mary and those of the Blessed Virgin at Lourdes ex-emplify this social type of private revelation. 2. Apparitions to non-M~tstics The second general current comprises those cases in which the persons favored with visions are nbt mystics. Oftentimes they are children. These visions reported by non-mystics seem to be sea- ;onal, tending to occu'r in the spring and summer months, between March and October. The recipients are usually uneducated'persons; nearly always wbmen or children, and girls-~rathe~'than 'boys.When a man sees a vision he is .apt to-be in the "company of a woman;-ahd kbe sees more than he does. If the,seers be~children, one or-mbre of them often enough'has a ~ather who drinks heavily. There seems to be a certain" tendency for these apparitions to follow the la~sical type of Saint Bernadette-or the more recent pattern set by the chil-dren at Fatima. In a few cases the effect upon the religious life of the community or even of the Church has been very great: but as a rule, no matter how great the excitement at first may be, the total result is not impressive. Manifestations in which Christ appears are more often within doors, whereas those of the Blessed Virgin are more frequently ob-served in the open air. Since the time when devotion to the Sacred Heart became widespread apparitions in which Our Lord figures tend to focus upon His heart. Strangely enough, when the place is in the vicinity of the Blessed Sacrament there is usually no connec-tion between it and the apparition. The appearances of the Blessed Virgin taking place outdoors do not generally present themselves abruptly: they are introduced by some sound or sight that does not naturally fit in with the circ.umstances, but attracts attention and prepares for what is to come. ~° 3. Zones and Periods "" Looking over lists of apparitions that have been reported one can easily discern certain zones, or parts of the world, and periods of time, in which they are especially numerous. Staehlin refers to one zone, without however naming it, °embracing some twenty villages, in which there was, as it were, an epidemic outbreak of visions. In Belgium in the single year 1933 there was a comparatively large number of them; Staehlin lists the places and dates for eighteen, and says that the enumeration is far from complete. 199 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reoieto for Religiou.s 4. Constellations It is also noticeable that apparitions tend to occur in constella-tions, that is, in groups with a certain unity of place, time, and sub-ject- matter. Numerous minor occurrences of this kind cluster around one that is of major importance and renown. Thus a full critical account of the origins of Lourdes would chronicle many visionaries and visions besides St. Bernadette and her experiences. She is the one whose claims have been approved, both by the Church officially and by the common assent of the faithful, and she is the only one who was canonized for her virtues. But there were other persons who reported having seen apparitions at about the same time and place. For the names of some of those who Said that they had had such visions and the places and times at which they occurred, see Staehlin, volume 139, pp. 555-56. It is said that at Fatima also there were other apparitions beside~ those to the three little shep-herds. 5. Multiplication Multiplication is another mark that Staehlin observes in his study of apparitions. Once a particular vision is recorded in the literature it is apt to be repeated. The following is an example. In Agreda, Spain, in the seventeenth century there was a Franciscan ab-bess named Maria de Jesus. Continuing the work begun by the famed visionary St. Bridget of Sweden, namely, completing the Gospel accounts from private revelations, Maria wrote the celebrated and highly controversial book called The Mystical City of God. It is a history of the life of the Blessed Virgin. .Because of its ques-tionable character the process for her beatification which had been begun was discontinued. Mother Maria recounts in great detail this incident from the passion. When Jesus had been fastened to the cross and the soldiers wished to clinch the nails, they were about to turn Him and the cross over, thus leaving Him with His face on the ground. His mother, unable to bear the thought of that additional cruelty and indignity, most earnestly besought the Eternal Father not to permit it. Accordingly He sent angels at once who supported the overturned Jesus and cross in the air above the rocky ground while the executioners hammered back the nails (Part II, Bk VI, .Chapter XXII, n. 1386). In the next century, after Mother Maria's work had become widely diffused among the. devout nuns in the convents of Spain, Sister Joan of the I.nca.~.n.~tion, of .,t.he Discalced Augustinians in 2OO July/, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS Murcia, had a strikingly similar vision, reported in very much the ~ame way. In our century Sister 3osefa Menendez, of the Spanish Religious of the Sacred Heart, whose book Christ's Appeal for Love i~ making her increasingly well-known just at present, also saw in a vision and reports exactly the same incident. (For the original wording in all three cases, see Razon y Fe, 1949, vol. 139, pp. 559- 560). - 6. Four Patterns It is not difficult to observe that even those apparitions which seem original or at leas.t have no particular connection in time or place tend to follow certain definite patterns. Of these Father Staeh-lin distinguishes four: namely the reformatory type, the pastoral, the innovating, and lastly one representing the passion of Christ. The first two, the reformatory and the pastoral, inasmuch as they involve prophecies regarding the future, may be termed apocalyptic. The third and fourth, introducing something new or somehow reproducing the Passion, are of a .more devout form. Apparitions falling into the reformatory pattern may be de-signed to change either religious or political conditions. In times of stress and strain in Church or state there is wont to be an excess of them. A typical apparition seeking reform in religious matters would first point out the tragedies and calamities that afflict the Church. Then the cause would be indicated, for example, the faults of the clergy and religious men and women. An exhortation would follow urging them to do. perian~e and again take up the fervent pursuit ~of virtue. Finally the happy results would be depicted in glowing colors. ~The Church and civil society are al.ways laboring under great evils or dangers of them; some reformatory movements are always in progress; some of .the troubles disappear in time; and in a few respects at least there is positive change for the better. If the prediction is not completely verified, one can invariably say either that not enough effort toward penance and amendment was made or that the rest of the prophecy is still to be fulfilled. The pasoral pattern of apparitions is the one with which we are all most familiar. Popular devout literature and th~ conversations of pious people thrive on it. Such appearances, which are said to be very numerous, tend to conform to this broad scheme: some chil-dren, playing outdoors, unexpectedly notice a sight or sound that att~rac.ts or directs their attention. Abov.e the branches of a tree or in a.~;clearj,g they notice a white feminine figure, they are addressed by 20,1: AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD . Reoiew for Religious it, am:l finallyo.tbey are invited to return to' the site on subsequent days. Soone~ or later the figure makes itself.known as the Blessed Virgin, and eventually she manifests some secret or other to the young seers. Sheoften requests that a shrine be erected there and promises a miracle to give divine assurance for everything. There is a message that is to be made public (an example, therefore, of a revelation that is private, but with a social purpose): the good should do penance and pray more for mankind. At last somethi.ng takes place which is in.terpr~ted as the miracle. Evidently the ap-paritions at Lourdes. and Fatima fire outstan, ding examples and models of this pattern. These two are also among the very, very few that have been approved and that have achieved importance. Scores, if not hundreds, of others, have created only a local or a passing stir among the people. _New devotions' are usually the object of the next, the inno-vating, type of visions. In her attitude toward these the Church is likely to be much more severe and critical, and the reason is that novel forms of religious practice very often imply notions that are wrong or dangerou.s°to the faith. In 1937 a decree against certain n6velties was issued b~" the Holy Office. "Everybody knows that such new forms of Worship and devotion, sometimes ridiculous, very often a useless imitation of similar devotions already legiti-mately established, or even a corruption of them, are. multiplled from day to day and widely propagated among the faithful in sev-eral places, especially in these latter times, to the great surprise and bitter reproach of non-Catholics" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, XXIX, 305). It is easy for certain devout souls to feel inspired to insti-tute, say, a new scapular or a nea, v ~et of Fridays or Saturdays in honor of the~'r favorite celestial"patron. Apparitions of the fourth pattern represent the passion and crucifixion of Christ. Some of the seers who witness them are stig-matics. Anyone somewhat conversant with devotional literature will know of examples. A notable recent case is that of St. Gemma Galgani (1878;1903). So much for the observations of Father Staehlin. III. NEGATIVE TYPES 1. Diabolical Apparitions Besides apparitions or revelations from the mansions of heaven, there are of course others that come from the dungeons of the nether regions. In gent~ine cases these are really and truly supernatural in, 202 July, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS the sense of being beyond the possibilities of visible nature. The lives of the saints contain many instances, and therefore the sanctity of the human person concerned is no proof that his or her super-normal experiences are all good. Of these appearances some are at once and clearly diabolical; they are generally of a terrifying naturd. Others seem at first to be holy and conducive to piety, but they are always deceptive, and sooner or later manifest indications of the evil tendencies that they subserve. At'a certain period in his life and at hours when he should have been studying, St. Ignatius used to ex-perience visions that seemed to make for devotion and prayer,/but eventually he noticed that it was always at the wrong time and place, and he concluded that what he was seeing was a temptation rather than a grace, and really something designed to distract him from God's work. Besides_preternatural appearances that emanate from the evil spirits there are others also which are in reality natural, but mistakenly attributed to evil spirits. 2. Hallucinations and Illusions A distinction relevant to apparitions and revelations that is hu-miliating and unpleasant for subjects, but nevertheless of prime practical importance for their directors and everybody else who has anything to do with them, is that between authentic and apparent manifestations of the supernatural, or, in other words, between the really miraculous and hallucinations or illusions. In hallucinatio.ns one judges that he sees or hears something that is simply non-existent; there is not even a good foundation for the mistaken per-ception. Illusions are false interpretations of something that is true and objective; for example, a man suffering from delirium tremens sees a stick and takes it to be a snake. Th~se aberrations .of tile mind can in some cases have a very close resemblance to truthful judg-ments. A perfectly balanced person may be deceived in a particular case, and the most acute discerner of spirits may find it exceedingly difficult to make the appropriate distinctions with assurance. Hence the great necessity of exercising extreme precaution in pronouncing upon any occurrence that has the semblance of the supernatura~l. Not long ago a certain French doctor and psychologist wrote a study of "interior words." It was based par.ticularly upon. a num-ber of books published in recent years 'arid purporting to give pri-vate divine revelations or locutions. Of his whole investigation he gives the general conclusion as follows: "These reflections, suth as they are, allow us to see in many cases of 'interior words' a natural 2O3 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Review [or Religious psychological mechanism, independent (inasmuch as it is a process) of'the religious character of their content: a mechanism of projec-tion, of compensation, of mental dialogue expressed in language. The classical criteria~ conformity to the teaching of the Church, sanctity of life, quality of charity, submission to the magisterium of the Church, are evidently indispensable. It seems to me that they are not sufficient. Is it not proper to consider as well whether a natural ex'planation cannot account for them, in whole or in i0art?" (Vie Spirituelle, Supplement, May 1953, 165-175; Dr. Suzy Rousset, " 'Paroles interieures'--remarques'psychologiques.P"e)r-haps, therefore, modern psychologists and psychiatrists capnoint out the precise mechanisms and processes which explain the fact, long ago noticed by SL. 3ohn of the Cross, that a devout person may seem. to hear God speaking to him interiorly, whereas in reality the person is talking to himself through his subconsciousness. The distinguished contemporary Carmelite authority in "spir-itual theology,"' Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, has made a special study of visions and revelations, and published the results in a work devoted exclusively to that subject, Visions and Revelations in the Spiritual Life (1950). Toward the end of this work he em-phasizes the point that the old rules for the discernment of spirits do indeed indicate whether a movement of soul or what .seems to be an interior locution is good or bad and whether it is ultimately from the divine spirit or the diabolical spirit, but they do not enable one to judge that, if it be from God, it proceeds from Him preter-naturally rather than naturally. What appears in consciousness as a divine locution may be from God and may be a great grace, but, from these rules alone, we are n6t justified in concluding that it comes from Him in the special way characteristic of revelations in the proper sense. "In the present state of the psychological sciences, in view of data which may be reasonably expected, it must be main-tained that the mechanism of the interior voice may sometimes be natural. Unless we succeed in disproving this hypothesis, we can-not cor~clude that God has certainly intervened" (p. 119). A devout soul can write a whole book, all of it most excellent spiritual doc-trine and seemingly dictated to the writer by God h'imself. It can be most conducive to one's advance in sanctity, or to that of others. Nevertheless the whole product may be really due tO the processes of nature and grace, and may not require any miraculous intervention from God. ,204 duly, 1954 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951 -I 952 3. Fraudulent Reports In addition to genuine apparitions there are some that are simply fraudulent. A person may gain notice and admiration and perhaps even many other advantages by acquiring the reputation of being in direct and supernatural communication with the powers of heaven. Moreover prestige and profit may accrue to places where appari-tions have been reported, and men seeing the commercial possibili-ties may, in good or bad faith, help promote the popular interest and excitement. A subsequent paper will consider certain practical problems that arise when one has become, or at least seems to have become, the re-cipient of apparitions and revelations, and also when one reads about those that are said to have been granted to other persons¯ E eatit:icatlons, 1951-1952 Pope Pi~s X, who was solemnly canonized, May 29. 1954, was born in 1835, died in 1914. He was the first Pope since St. Pius V (died, 1572: beatified, 1671: canonized, 1710) to be raised to the honors of the altar. An account of the pontificate of Pius X, as well as a table of important dates, was published in the May, 1954, number of the REVIEW (pp. 114-24). This account, written by the Archbishop of Madurai, was first published shortly after the beatifi-cation of Pius X, which took place on June 3, 1951. On the occa-sion of the beatification, Pope Pius XII said of his blessed predeces-sor .' "Through his person and through his work God wished to pre-pare His Church for the new and arduous tasks that awaited bet in the troublous future; to prepare in time a Church at one in doctrine, firm in discipline, et~icient in her pastors; a generous laity, a people well instructed: a youth sar~ctified from its first years; a Christian conscience alert to the proble, ms of social life. "If today the Church ofI God, so far from retreating before the forces that would 'destroy all spiritual values, suffers and fights, and through dlvlne help advances and redeems, it is due in great part to the far-seeing action and the holiness of Plus X. Today it has be-come clear thSt his whole pontificate was directed according to a divine plan of love and redemption, to prepare souls for the very 205 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951 - 1.952 struggles we are facing, and to ensure victory for us and for the fu-ture." The foregoing translation is taken from The Clerg~t Monthlt.t, XVI (duly, 1952), 227. We are indebted to the same publication for the following accounts of others who were beatified in 1951; also of those beatified in 1952. Blessed Atberic Cresc[telli: born, 1863: died, 1900; beatified, Feb. 18, 1951. Of the Foreign Missions of Milan. He was cruelly martyred during the Boxer rising after twelve years of self-sacrificing work in the China mission. In his case, as in other cases, the Holy Father remarked, "Martyrdom is but the cr6wning of an entire life of daily heroism and of continual compliance with the will of God." Blessed Francis Anton{ Fasani: born, 1681; died, 1742; beati-fied, April 15, 1951. A Franciscan Conventual priest. He spent thirty-five years in his native town of Lucera, 'teaching the young friars and then governing the convent and the province of his order, combining with these offices an intense apostolic and charitable ac-tivity. He liked to recall his humble origin, and among the poor who crowded the door of the convent for their daily bowl of soup, with filial respect and love he acknowledged his mother, "the poor Isabella." Blessed Joseph Diaz Sanjurjo, O.P., and tuaent~l-four coropan-ions. Beatified, April 29, 1951. In Tonkin, during the bloody persecution of 1856-1862 under Tu-Duc, thousands of Christians were cruelly tortured and put to death. One group of four was beati-fied by Pius X on April 15, 1906. The cause of another 1,288 was introduced in 1917; and from among these a first group of 25 has now been beatified: 2 bishops (Spanish Dominicans), 4 native priests (2 Dominicans and 2 Tertiaries of St. Dominic), and .19 Christians of every class of society. Blessed Placide Viel: born, 1815; died, 1877; beatified, May 6, 1951. One is deeply struck, said the Holy Father on the occasion of her beatification, by "the contrast between the temperament, the character, the antecedents of this little peasant girl--shy, awkward, without instruction, without the least experience of life in the world --and her career of exceptional, not to say unique, activity." Out of seemingly unpromising material God's grace fashioned an out-standing personality. Placide Viel was the daughter of a Norman farmer. When eighteen, she joined the young and struggling Congregation of the (Contin.ued on Page 214) 206 Spirit:ual Opia!:es Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. TWO of the most fundament.al and most consol!ng truths of the spiritual life are that the will of God is man s peace and that the providence of God is most loving. Practical acceptance and living out of these truths has brought and will bring many to holi-ness. There can be no sanctity where a person has no "devotion" to the will of God and little trust in divine providence. While all this is true, there is another side to the question, as there is to mbst questions. And this "other side of the question" has some impor-tant relevance to both the private and social lives of religious. Wrong understanding of these great truths can bring about great personal and great public harm. The pagan Lucretius in that terrible line, "so great a mass of evils has religion been able to foist upon ~nan-kind," fixed in a few words the awful effect of religion gone bad. Perhaps it would be well to listen to a pagan, ancient or modern, present his picture of a Christian and the will of God. -Thus then would our pagan speak: "If Christians live according to the faith that is in them, for them the will of God is the end of life. In all things great and small a Christian must love and do God's will and bear patiently whatever God allows to come into his life. If he is sick, that is God's will and he must bear sickness patiently and even gladly if possible. If there is a drought and the crops fail, that too is God's will and a true Christian must bear it without complaint. If in God's providence a man has been born into a poor family, that is for his best and he should worship the strange ways of divine provi-dence. If a working man cannot find employment, that is God's will and he must submit humbly--remembering that God cares for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. If taxes are high and there is much corruption in government and unequal distribution of wealth, God has permitted these things, and His will must be rev-erenced. If the children are starving and the wife is sick and there is no opportunity for work, God has seen fit to allow that and man must meekly accept His will." Truly religion thus pictured is the opium of the people. Man~s urge for ~elf-preservation, for the advancement of his family, for his well-being in this life is stifled. He is made the pawn of priests, 207 JOSEPH [9. FISHER Review for Religious he is made a slave of inaction. Religion;has bound him hand and foot and made him a completely useless citizen of the state. We may now imagine an objector adapting the above picture to fit a religio,us more directly. To a religious God's will is especially dear. It should be his meat and drink. Only by complete aban-donment to the divine will can he lead his life as he should and reach' sanctity. Heshould hav~ ~o desire of his own but should will only what God wills. When he has come to such conformity, then only will he have true peace. So when sickness comes, em-brace it patiently, eagerly. It is a dear possession. Hold on to it as to a loving gift from God. Become a victim of the divine good pleasure. When failure comes, do not run from it; it is God's will and hence a blessing. When you are misunderstood, called to task unjustly, do not complain; this is God's will. Adhere to it. No matter what comes into your life, ~t is God's will. Be satisfied with it and it will sanctify you. The consequence of carrying out the foregoing "ideal" to its logical conclusion would be this: a sick religious holds on to his sickness as the will of God and does not try to rid himself of it; a struggling religious sees impending fdilure coming and welcomes it as God's will; a sincere religious finds himself the subject of petty persecution and, convinced it is God's will that he bear it, does so, when it is driving him to distraction. Even if the ordinary Catholic and ordinary religious do not see the speculative answer to the difficulty just proposed, in practice they solve it for the most part themselves. But it would be well if they understood the theory too. Certainly it is God's will that a Christia~i accept with patient resignation his lot as a poor man, the sickness of his children and wife, the lack of employment and such-like hardship. That is one thing. But it is quite another to give the impression that he may not and even ought not do something about righting the situation. To speak as if the .will of God ends with patience and resignation under adverse circumstances is to make something of a caricature of the divine will. It may be presumed that God wants something done about an unjust condition. If unscrupulous men have by their c~imes forced a man into an unjust condition, far fr(~m its being true that he ought to be content to re-main in such a condition, the man may be bound in conscience to do what he can to right the wrong. The truth then is this: in such cases a man has to accept with patience and resignation the existing condition as at least permitted by God, but he has to work with en- 208 Julq, 1954 SPIRITUAL OPIATES ergy to bring about the just order which God primarily wills. So the mark of the true Christian is not to accept willy-nilly whatever untoward event the providence of God allows to befall him, and to rest there; but rather, even while conformed to the divine will, calmly to set about bettering the situation when that can be done. There is plenty of room for the practical application of this prin-ciple in our modern world, where there are many cases of unjust and inhuman living conditions that call for reform. As for the religi6us, certainly he ought to hold the will of God dear. And certainly he ought to become as conformed as possible to the Will of God. But he ought to know what is and what is not the will of God. God's will is not necessarily that he remain sick if he becomes sick. When he is sick, of course he ought to see in this illness God's will and endure it patiently, but he also ought to realize that it may be God's will that he use some means to insure recovery. If he has a rule--as most religious have--to the effect that he should take proper care of his health, then this would indi-cate God's will in the matter. And certainly superiors consider it understood that their subjects do what they reasonably can to pre-serve their b~alth and to retrieve it as far as possible when it is lost. This again is an expression of God's will. The same principle holds in the case of failure and blame. A good religious accepts in a spirit of resignation such trials permitted by God but it is often clear that the same divin~ will wants the re-ligious to do something about rising from the failure or removing the blame. One's vocational-ideal is the surest means of diagnosing, so to speak, the divine will in any particular matter. What my vocation demands of me, that for me is clearly God's will. It hardly has to be pointed out that the conception of divine providence implied in the objection given above is faulty. There are plenty of people who think of the providence of God as a guarantee of an easy way through life here on earth. One will be able to live, 'they dream, as the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. God's providence will ward off financial difficulties, sickness, death of the young--all th~ hard things of life that test a man's belief and hope in God. To see their mistake, these people need only to consider. God's plan for human life, rather than their own imaginings as to what it is to be. A frequently repeated illustration will make the point clear. A provident father is not one who gives his child all he asks or all the child thinks is for his good. Children, even older children, frequently have a very poor idea about what serves' their 2O9 aosi~p~t p. Fis~ true good. A young child might want to play with a sharp, shiny knife, but no one would consider the father good who gave in to the child, no matter what kind of squall was raised. Children used to dislike school. Even though they raised a fuss and said their parents and teachers were cruel, a good father, foreseeing their needs be~ter than they, would insist that they continue their schooling. Tb'e father knows the end in mind and he knows the means to the end. And frequently the best means are the most repellent to the young. In this, grown men and women are often like children. God their Father knows better than they the end of human life and the best means to get there. Frequently these means look very harsh to God's children, but our good Father does not let this deter Him from doing what is really best for His sons and daughters. God wants our true good more than we do ourselves and He knows what it is and how to obtain it. Trust in His directing and loving providence is the only proper attitude on our part. God's providence over men is, therefore, not apampering provi-dence. Rather it is strong and it demands strength. We are taught this in the life of Our Lord when He was tempted by the devil, first to a distrust of divine providence--"command that these stones be made bread": and then to a rash and presumptuous demand 'on providence--"throw thyself down." Our Lord's answer to Satan teaches us the proper balance in,our attitude toward divine provi-dence: "Not by bread alone does man live"--man's end is not temporal but eternal: God provides what eventually best leads to our eternal happiness. Hence we must trust that all things work unto good for those who love God. "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God"--we should not presume on divine providence according to our own ideas of what is good for us. Such presumption would surely lead to disappointm.ent and distrust and at first to lack of private enterprise and then to trust of self alone. Only, therefore, when the Catholic doctrine on the will of God and providence is misunderstood and exaggerated does it make spir-itual opiates of these truths. Religious obviously in their own lives and in their dealings with externs should be mindful of these very consoling doctrines, but mindful in such a way that they do not give a basis to critics for the charge that the doctrines stifle the true life of man. Rather they should evidence by their lives that these great truths are springs of life more abundant. 210 To All t:he Saint:s in No-Man's Land George Byrne, S.J. W~E CANNOT imagine a bishop in our days addressing a letter to "All the saints that are in Chicago"! St. Paul would" have done it; indeed, be might more reasonably have ex-pected to find them in Chicago than in pagan Rome "delivered up to shameful affections." Yet to us the word "saints" suggests a no-man's land, reached by hardy explorers and possessing a climate of rarefied atmosphere, which only men of superhuman constitution can breathe. Doesn't the Church reserve the title for her heroes and look for miracles to confirm her choice? There must be a misunderstanding somewhere. Either St. Paul was using a little flattery, like the politician appealing to the "keen intelligence" of a stupid crowd, or we have failed to grasp his meaning. We may at once admit our failure: flattery was not a Pauline weapon. He knew what man .was: but he had a clear vision of what man should, and could, be: "To all that are at Rome ¯ . . called to be saints." On the one hand St. Paul might quarrel with our title, in "No- Man's Land," insisting that it should be "Every-Man's Land"; on the other hand, he could accept it, as true to his own words to the Ephesians: "He chose us in him before the foundation of the world that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight in charity." The choice was made in "No-Man's Land." It was made in God's kingdom: "In the Father's house of many mansions"; in the climate of "pure love," an atmosphere truly so devoid of all breath of dis-ordered self-love that no man could live there if not strengthened by a power more than human: "for man shall not see Me [God] and live." Plato and Lo~e Not one of us would say to a friend, "You are unlovable, as you are incapable of love." Does any young couple, pledging a love "till death do us part," think for a moment that they do not know what it is to love? Yet the divorce courts are a sad witness to their ignorance. Love is a beautiful thing, a strong thing. It is not pas-sion, a fitful outburst to grasp for self the pleasure of a passing urge. ,211 GEORGE BYRNE Reoieto t~or Religious "Love is as strong ag dearth . . . many waters cannot quench love." In spite of his cold intellectual outlook, Plato did not fail to see the elevating power of love, even amongst his crude pagan gods. In his Symposium (197) he, wrote: "He whom love touches walks not in darkness . . . Love set in order the empire of the gods--the love of beauty, as is evident, for with deformity Love has no concern. In days of old, as I said, dreadful, deeds were done among the gods, for they were ruled b.y Necessity, but now since the birth of Love, and from Love of the beautiful, has sprung every good in heaven and earth. Therefore, Phaedrus, I say of Love that He is the fairest and best in himself, and the cause of what is fairest and best in all othe~ things . . . He is our lord, who sends cou, rtesy and sends away discourtesy, who gives kindness ever and never gives unkindness; the friend of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods; desired by those who have no part in him; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, soft-ness, grace, regardful of the good, regardless of the evil . . . glory of god and men, leader best and brightest, in whose footsteps let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour and joining in that sweet strain with which Love charms the souls of gods and men." As we .read the words of the tSagan philosopher, we approve. We can even fancy that a fold of Love's mantle rests on us. Even "those who have no part in him," as Plato said, desire him. No one is willing to admit that Love has no message for him, or that Love's message is Utopian! Sainthood and Love Why, then. is the call to "Sainthood" treated.as if it were a call to Starland, where ordinary mortals cannot dwell? It is so treated: we have only to suggest that Tdm or Harry, down the street, are, "holy," to draw a smile, in which Tom and Harrywould be the first' sharers. Yet they would be the first to resent being called un- Christian, or being taxed with lovelessness. They, and those who, with them, call themselves "ordinary Christians" forget that' a call to."ordinary" Christian life is not the Master's call. "Be ye perfect,~ as your heavenly Father is perfect," is addressed to all. The re-ligious life is called a "state of perfection" because, on the negative side, many obstacles found in the world are removed; and, above all, on the positive side, every means is at our disposal "to develop the supernatural life in our souls. The great variety of religious congregations in the Church is determined by the nature of the 212 dul~t, 1954 To SAINTS IN NO-MAN'S LAND work to be accomplished for the Kingdom of God and the different talents of the workers. But all religious.congregations pu~ love, true charity, in the foreground. In the words of St. Ignatius, "the interior law of charity and love" must be the animating principle of every religious constitution. Without the inner working of the Holy Spirit of Love, - external rules couldlead only to formalism. In God's creative plan, Iove and sainthood are identified. Let us repeat St. Paul's text: "He chose us in him [i.e., in Christ] before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight in charity.". St. John puts it more emphatically: "Every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not, knoweth not God: for God is charity." "'Love IS His Meaning" In one of the mo~t beautiful books written, Revelations of Divine Love, Juliana of Norwich, tells us that the afiswer to her query of the meaning of all was: "Wouldst thou witten the Lord's meaning in this thing? Wit it well: Love was his meaning. Who shewed it to thee? Love. What shewed He thee? Love. Where-fore shewed it He? For Love. What shewed He thee? Love. Wherefore shewed it He? For Love. : . .And I saw full surely in this and in all, that ere God mhde us He loved us.~ .In this love our' life is everlasting. In our making we had a beginning; but the love wherein He made us was in Him from without beginning: in which love we have our beginning." Our earliest catechism lesson taught us that we are made to the "image of God." Perhaps the lessons passed all too quickly to "duty" as the rule of life. There were the commandments--only ten; but, as we turned the pages, the details grew; and our young lives seemed hemmed in by a solid hedge of "don'ts." A doctor of the law captiously .asked Christ: "Which is the great command-ment?" He little expected the answer: there is really only one-- Love, reaching to heaven, and pouring itself out on earth. The greatness of man is being an image of God; the image of God is in his soul. In what ultimately is greatness of soul found? St. Jerome aptly drew the distinction between philosophy and re-ligion. "Plato," he said, "located the soul of man in the head; Christ located it in the heart." In a word w~e have the difference between the "clever" man and the "saint." Few can be outstanding as philosophers; there is no limit'to growth in love. The.Immacu-late Mother mounted the hill of Calvary with Mary Magdalen; the_ 213 ' BEATIFICATIONS, 19 5 1 - 1 9 5 2 Review/:or Religious peniten't thief confessed, with St. John, that God is Love. At first sight it might seem that the type of sanctity is different in different religious institutes: for example, that a Carmelite recluse has little in common with a nursing, or teaching, sister. This view is clea~ly superficial. Their duties are different, but for all, love is the soul of their sanctity; and they may happily kneel side by side at the altar rail to receive into their hearts the Heart of Love. To be truly religious and not to love is unthinkable. BEATIFICATIONS, 19S1-1952 (Continued from Page 206) Sisters of the Christian Schools and was trained by the holy foun-dress, St. Marie Madeleine Postel (canonized in 1925). With prophetic insight the foundress recognized the latent gifts of the young religious and made her the assistant general at. the age of twenty-five. Six years later, when the foundress died (1846), Placide was elected to succeed her. For thirty years she governed this institute with remarkable efficiency--a most able organizer, a gifted educationist, a religious superior of fine tact and heroic pa-tience and humility. Blessed Julian Maunoir, S.d.: born, 1606 ; died 1683 ; beatified, May 20, 1951. "The Apostle of Brittany." During forty-two years he preached popular missions t~hroughout Brittany, at that time spiritually very neglected, and trained numerous priests for the same work. His incredible labors resulted in a deep religious trans-formation of that country. His life and work, said Pope Pius XII, are a lesson of optimism. His remarkable missionary methods are worth s{udying even today (teamwork, instruction.s and sermons, songs and pictures, processions, retreats for the elite.). Blessed Marie Th&&e Couderc: born, 1805 ; died, ~1885 ; beati-fied, Nov. 4, 1951. ~A slmple peasant girl, she became,the foun-dress of the Institute of the Cenacle (1827)~, whose aim is to give the Spiritual Exercises to women of every class. Through a series of misunderstandings, she was deposed from her office of superior and spent the last fifty years of her life in obscurity, heroic humility, and patience. In 1952 the Cenacle had 2,000 members in Europe and America. Blessed Rosa Venerini: born, 1656; died, 1728; beatified, May 4, 1952. As a girl she gathered poor children to teach them their 214 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951 - 195 2 prayers and Christian doctrine and thus gradually came to found the institute of Maestre Pfe, which today has some fifty establish-ments in Italy and North America. At first her work was regarded, as an innovation and met with man}, obstacles. One objection Rosa and her companions had to face was that women had no right to teach Christian doctrine, since it was to men that Christ had said, "He who heareth you, heareth me." Blessed Raffaela Porras (Raffaela-Maria of the Sacred Heart): born, 1850; died, 1925; beatified, May 18, 1952. Together with. her elder sister Dolores she founded in Madrid the Handmaids of the Sacred Heart. At forty-three she was prevailed upon by her critics to retire from the government of her institute as incapable; the opposi-tion party was led by her own sister, who succeeded her as superior general. She spent the rest of her life, 32 years, in obscurity and suffering: painful but fruitful years. Her institute at present counts fifty-six houses in Europe, America, and Japan. Blessed Marfa-Bertflla Boscardfn: born, 1888; died, 1922; be- "atified, dune 8, 1952. Born of poor Italian farmers and seemingly little gifted, she was a real Cinderella at home, at school, and after-wards in the Institute of the Sisters of St. Dorothea, which sh~ joined at seventeen. But she revealed herself a most devoted and skillful nurse and for most of her religious life she worked in the hospital of .Treviso, where she spent herself in the care of the sick and (during the first World War) of the wounded soldiers. Though suffering herself from a serious disease, she continued her service till obedience obliged her to undergo an operation: but it was too late and she died at the age of thirty-four. Often misjudged by her superiors, she w, as venerated by doctors and patients, and the cause of her beatification was taken up soon after her death. She was extraordinarily humble, the catechism was her favorite book, and the way she chose to follow was the most ordinary way, the via dei card (cart road), as she put it. She prayed that she might "rather die than do a single action in order to b,e seen." Anthon~t-MarV Pucci: born, 1819; died, 1892; beatified, June 22, 1952. He was moved by his devotion to Mary to jbin the Or-der of Servites. After his ordination he was sent to Viareggio in Tuscany where he worked first as curate for three years, and then as parish priest for 46 years, till his death. In this office he showed himself really "another Christ"; in him, the Holy Father said, "~e can contemplate an authentic image of the divine Redeemer." 215 NEW CONGREGATIONS Review for Religious "The Gospel teaches that there is a powerful grace of sanctifica-tion for priests, Obtained by the merits and prayer of Jesus Christ. Did He not ask the Father, in His sacerdotal prayer (JolSn 17: 17- 19) to sanctify them in the truth, as he was offering Himself as a 'victim in a sacrifice for them? The grace of the Catholic priesthood has, since nearly twenty centuries, produced incomparable fruits in every country of the world, and tl~e number of Saints endowed with the priestly character is constantly.growing . . . There is nothing greater on earth tban a holy priest." Blessed Anthony-Mary is for all priests "a luminous example in the exercise of the sacred ministry." His whole life was a sermon "because there was perfect agreement between his words and his ac-tions."' His self-devotion to his flock--in teaching Christian doc-trine,, spending long hours in the confessional, guiding ~he young,' and especially in helping the sick during a terrible cholera epidemic --was admirable and conquered all hearts, thougb it was a time of strong anticlericalism. But he "was not content with his own indi-vidual action"; he became a precursor of modern Catholic Action by establishing associations for every category of his parishioners-- children and adolescents, men and women--whom he imbued with his own zeal. He also founded the Institute of the Servants of Mary, a nursery of catechists and teachers. He started societies of St. Vincent de Paul (which were still new at that time), and open-ed the first seaside hor~e for poor sickly children. New Congregat:ions The Sisters, Home Visitor.s 0'f Mary.have the special apostolate of convert work among Negroes. This community was organized four years ago in Detroit under,the patronage of Edward Cardinal ~Mooney. The sisters teach religion to boys and girls who attend the public schools and to adults; they also conduct recreational pro-grams, plan clinics, conduct classes in home making and home nursing, and carry out other social . service activities. Their mother house is at 356 Arden Park, Detroit 2, Michigan. .The habit is a simple navy blue dress, coat, and hit in present-day style. , The Sons of Mary, Health of the Sick will specialize in medical and catechetical work for the missions and will train many of the 216 dul~ , 1954 NEW CONGREGATIONS Catholic natives to be nurse-catechists. This congregation of brothers was founded by Father Edward F. Gareschd. The novitiate was established at Sylva Maria, Framingham, Massachusetts, with the encouragement and help of. Archbishop Cushing. The habit is of dark blue with a dark blue cord around the waist; a rosary with white beads hangs.from~ the cord. Not exactly new-is the congregation of Dominican Rural Mis-sionaries. This institute was f~unded in France and was affiliated with the Dominican Order in 1932. At that time they numbered 20. They'now number 427, with 69 houses (65 in France, 1 in Switzerland, 1 in Canada, and 2 in the United States). The houses in this country are in Louisiana, ~where tile first was opened in 1951. The sisters are dedicated,to the spiritual welfare of the people of the rural areas, especially within the framework of the parish, and without distinction of race, color, or creed. Further information about this congregation may be obtained from Mother Marie St. Paul, O.P., Convent of the Epiphany, Gross Tete, Louisiana. CONGRESS IN BUENOS AIRES An international congress on the states of perfection was held in Buenos Aires, March 3-11, 1954. The Sacred Congregation of Religious convoked the co~gress and sent a delegation headed by its secretary, Father Arcadio Larraona, C.M.F. The Cardinal Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Dr. Santiago L. Copello, presided at the ~ongress; Father Larraona was its general director. Since the congress' was on the ':states of perfection,~' it included not only religious but also others who are dedicated to the quest of evangelical perfection, such as members of secular insti-tutes. There were representatives from Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Paraguay, and Uruguay. COMMENTARY ON LITTLE OFFICE ~ Father John J. Kugler, S.D.B. is the author of A Commenta(y on the New Little Ottice. The book contains parallel columns of the new Latin version of the Psalms and an English translation; also verse-by-verse notes on the Psalms, and a liturgical explanation of each hour. This book should be very helpful to reli-gious who are using the Little Office with the new version of the. Psalms. It should be noted, however, that this is not the new edition of the Little Office which was described by Father Ellis in a recent article (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII [May~ 1954], 149). Father Kugler's book refers to the standard edition of the Little Office with the new version of the Psalms. The price of the book is $2.00. It may be obtained from: Salesiana Publishers, 202 Union Ave., Pater-son 2, N.J. 217 uesffons Answers --22- Have you any advice for a nun who thinks that God has begun to fa-vor her with mvstical graces and who cannot find any priest to direct If it be simply impossible to get direction from some competent person, read something that is to the point. Probably the best brief., treatise in English is the relevant part of Tanquerey, The Spiritual Life, pp. 637-740. An excellent work on prayer is Lehodey, The Wags of Mental Prager. Much the most thorough-going book on the direction ~'f mystics is Poulain, The Graces of Interior Prager (enlarged edition, 1950). This last book would hardly be suitable for self-direction for many people with less education; they would find it overwhelming and confusing, rather tfian enlightening and helpful. All the general principles of Catholic asceticism apply to mys-tics; in fact, they apply to them more fully and strictly. Souls fa-vored by God with greater graces should be more eager to love Him with all their hearts, to keep all the divine precepts and counsels, to be quite mortified, observant, zealous, and so on with all the virtues. If the Holy Spirit seems to be inviting one to a simpler, more passive, form of prayer, ~nd if, all things considered, it appears to be more promising than any other that one-could Eursue, then" one should give oneself up to

Issue 7.6 of the Review for Religious, 1948. ; Review for ReHgio NOVEMBER 15, 1948 Assisting at Mass .'-. Cla'rence McAul;ffe ~Distractions in Mental Prayer . c.A. Herbsf On S÷ayin9 in Love . Richard Leo Heppler Loving the Neigi~bor . Gera~a. Ke'y Doc÷Hne of. St. John of he Cross" ¯ . J.E. Breun;g Book Reviews Communications . .Questions Answered Annual Index VOLUME VII ~ NUMBER .6 VOLFdMI] VlI NOVEMBER, 19478 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS PAP.AL DIRECTIVES FOR ASSISTING. AT MASS-- Clarence McAuliffe, S.,I . 281 DISTRACTIONS IN MENTAL ~RAYER--C. A. Herbst, S.,l. , 290 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 294 ON 8TAYING IN LOVE~Riehard Leo Heppler, O.F.M . 29~ ANEW EDITION OF NEWMAN . 298 C~N THE DUTY OF LOVING THE NEIGHBOR, ESPECIALLY ENEMIES--Gerald Kelly, S.J, 299 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JO~-IN OF THE CROSS--J. E. Breunig, S'.3,. 313 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ ! 42. Use of Interest from Dowries and Legacies for Community Pur-posea . , ¯ ~ ." . 321 43. Common Life and Recreational Travel . . . ~ . 321 44. Retirement Age for Superiors~ . . ¯ 321 45. Ro~ary~Indulgences, Mysteries, and Literature . ". . . 322 COMMUNICATIONS . 327 BOOK REV'IEWS~ Exile Ends in Glory; Souls at Stake . , ¯ ¯ 324 Book NOTICES" ¯ . 326 A REPRINT ~ERIES---MAYBE! . ~ . 331 ANNU.AL INDEX ~ . ., . . 333 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November. 1948~ Vet. VII, No. 6, Published bi-monthly; January, March. Mair, 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 sec0rid class matte~ January ~1-5, 1942, at the Post Otiice, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editoriai Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.d., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary; Alfred F. Schneider, S.,l. Copyright, 1948/by Adam C. Eliis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be~ given "this review and the author. Subscriptiott price: 2 dollars .a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrlflncj tO us, please consult, notice on lee|de, beck cover. Papal Directives t:or Assisting al: Mass Clarence McAuliffe, S.2. ~| T IS, THEREFORE, Venerable Brethren, proper for all Cath-olics to realize that participation in the Eucharistic Sacrifice is for them an urgent duty and a lofty dignity. This participa-tion is not achieved if their minds are torpid, .unconcerned, distracted and daydreaming. On the contrary, so, fervent and active should be their mental application that they will become, intimately united with their High Priest (Christ). Together with,Him and through Him they should offer the ,Mass, and along.with Him they should consecrate themselves (to God)." Th~se words were penned by our Holy Father, Plus XII, in his memorable dncyclical "Mediator Dei"' of November, 1947.~ They furnish a compendious sketch 6f the internal spirit which all Cath-olics, and especially religiofis and 15riests," should foster at every Mass. This inteinal spirit is etched";2~ith greater preCision-in 'otl~er sections bf the encyclical. Nor does ~the POntiff rest satisfied with an expla-nation of the internal spirit-'6nly. He also'becomes quite, detailed regard'ing various external ways of as?isting at Mass. It should prove 15fin~ficial~for the spiritual lives of reade?s of ~he i~EVlEW and of those with-whom they deal, to summarize and explain the,papal directives in this important matter. ¯ - ° It" should be ~noted first of all that, just as in all prayer, so at Mass, the internal spirit of those present is~vastly more important than the external manner of participation, The Holy Father ins_ists on' this principle _in various paragraphs of the encyclical. Indeed,, he . points out, as we 'shall indicate later, that the-external ways of par-ticipation may~ vary ~but that the internal spirit: should re.main con-stant. It is uniform; it applies to. all the particip~ants, t~o~ugh i~o will be realizeffdn°diverse degrees.according to the~graces~,kngw~ledge, _a.nd circumstances, of each individual. The same internal .spirit .s.bou_ld pervade the Low Mass as well as the High Mass: it shou~/~d be, the goal of the sinner as well as of the saint; it should be c.uJtiga~ted regardless of one's subjective moods. The~ external participation, whatever form it takes, has but one chief purpose-~-to foster_ the 281 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoieto ¢or Religious proper internal dispositions of the participant. But what are these internal dispositions? After answering this .question in a gener~al way, the Holy Father particularizes. As ~egards' the general" answer, he says that participants in the Mass should endeavor to arouse in themselves the same internal spirit which animated Christ" Himself when He was immolated on Cal-vary. This idea is fundamental: and the Pontiff expressly declares it when he says that ~the' Mass "demands' of all Cl~istiahs ~that they imbue their souls with the same affections; insbfar as it lies in human power, that permeated the soul of the Divine Redeeme~ when He made the sacrifice of Himself." It Will not~.be difficult to understand the reason f6r this cardinal dire~tivi if~we recall two dogmatic principles about the Mass. First, the Mass is not-only a" memorial, but an actual unbloody repetition, bf Calvary. SeCond, the Savior, both bn Calvary and at each Mass, does not offer for Himself, but for us. He represents"the entire human family, and especially those who by baptism have become members of His Mystical Body. He acts for each one of.us; He is our substi-tute: and since at every Mass He re-enacts Calvary, He therefore expeits each one of us to strive for those internal dispositions which He Himself has. Just as each member 9f a graduat.lng class, is expected to possess th~ dispositions harbored and publicly expressed by its valedictorian, or as each member of a fraternal organization should,foster the sentiments publicly proclaimed by its pres, ident in the name of all, so should each Catholic at Mass strive to nurture the dispositions of~the~,Savio~r, who in the name,of all renews the offering of Calvary at the Holy Sacrifice. 'Descending to ~details, the~Holy Father .itemizes the basic ele-ments of this intelnal spirit. It should conform to the purposes of both Calvary ancl~ the Mass. Th~se are four in number, but pre-eminent among them is the spirit of adoration. It is of faith that the Ma~s is a genuine sacrifice. Ai such it can be offered to .God alone, and itsprincipal~function:is ~o rendersto God that supreme honor th~it is du~e exclusively td'Him. To q~uote the Holy Father: "From~His birth to His. death 3esus Christ wasqnflamed ,with zezl for the advancement of God's" glory : and fkom thd cross the immola-tion Of His blood ascended to heaven in an odor of sweetness." This spirit of adoration gripped the Savior's "human soul With acute poigna.ncy while his life blood slowly ebbed away on the cross. In the same spirit He, as the principal minister, offers Himself in the 282 ASSISTING AT.~LAss tiame of allsat every Mas~.~ It is the spirit 'which all participants in the'Miss shoiild sedulously cultivate. The Mass by its very nature an~l action exi)resses God's transcendent donlination over~ mankind and'~the utter subjection of mankind .to God. Hdn~e it poitulates from all a spirit of humble adoration2 . ~ -~ ¯ Ho~v~ver, three other element_s, to mention only'~the basic .ones. entered into the Savior's disposition at-the Crucifixion. Although theie three are implicitly contained in the spirit of adoration, it would be well for participants in the Mass to make them explicit, as the Holy F~ther observes in the encyclical. Perhaps the most important Of these is the spirit of thanksgiving. God has given us, 'both as individuals and as social beings, every single thing. Strive as we may,~ w~ can n~ver tl~ank Him ade-- quately. But with theoSon of God Himself repr~seniing ~us and ~icting~ in our name oh0 Calvary and at each Mass,wit isonow ~possible for us to 6fief a worthy thanksgiving. ;That i spirit of gratitude anl-ma~ e~l ourSa¢ior's~soul on Calvary~ is clear, as the Holy Fatl~er men-tion~ s'; fiom the~fact that ~Holy Scripture:says that He "gave thanks" at the~.prepai~tory sacrifice of ~the Last "Supper. Moreover, "He continuously~ gave thanks as He hung from the crbss/'' states the Pontiff. Since, therefore, we are expected'at~each ~Mass.to foster the dispositions of Christ Himself, we too should,cultivate a spirit of gratifude . Secondly, the Mass should evoke in each participant a spirit of expiation; of reparation for 6ne's own sins and ~for those of the entire human family. ' We know that our Sa,~ior died to redeem the human race, to ransom it from the bonds of original sin and also of actual sin, so that we cotild again achieve our supern.atural, destiny. According to the Holy Father it was .for,this reason ~that our Savior "wished to be immolated on the cross~ as 'a~ propitiation for our sins, and not only .for burs, but for those of ~he whole world.' " And the Pontiff continues: "Moreover, on our altars ~He. offers.Himself d~ily for our~ redemption.so that snatched_ from eternal ruin~ we~ may be numbered among the elect." It is evident, therefore, that Our Lord botkon Calvary and in each Muss.possesses a spirit of repara-tion for sin, and the same spirit ~should~ animate us at~the Holy Sacri-fice. We should be sorry for our own shortcomings and make atone-ment for the sins and crimes of humanity., Finally, our Savior on Calvary was permeated with a spirit of impetration. He'saw how mankind, by original sin: particularly, had ,283 CLARENCE I~CAULIFFE Review [or Religious squandered the'bountiful gifts oLGodoand, to. quote the' encyclical, "had reduced itself to a state of utter poverty and indigence.','~ Not only on the cross did He beseech His heavenly Father to relieve this miserable condition, but, to quote again, "He petitions, for.us 'in'the same etficacious way upon our holy altars." Hence it is fitting that we, too, for whom He supplicates, should foster a disposition of impetration at every Mass. Adoration, thanksgiving, .reparation, petition. We must steep ourselves in these four affections at Mass if we would put 9n '.'the same affections that permeated the soul of the Divine Redeemer on Calvary." But perhaps it would be well for us to become acquainted with a reason, drawn from the very nature of the Mass itself, why this fourfold disposition should be cultivated. We must remember that the Mass is not merely a social prayer, but a social prayer in action. Moreover, it is a unique social prayer in action. After all, when the celebrant sprinkles the congregation with holy water before High Mass or when the deacon silently incenses the entire congrega-tion at the offertory of High Mass, we have social prayer, in action. But the MasS,is a-unique prayer in action, because it is a, genuine sacriEce, the only one acceptable to God in the world today. If. we understand the basic notion underlying the concept of sac-rifice, it will be easy for us to see why it. postulates dispositions of adoration, gratitude, expiation, and petition. Every sacrifice is fundamentally the giving of a gift to God. This giving is not enough to constitute a sacrifice, but without it no true sacrifice could come into ,being. Bearing this in .mind, let us ask ourselves the meaning of presents or gifts when they are bestowed among men. We find ,that the giving of a gift to another is an action and that this "action has various but definite meanings, - whether expressed or not. By such gifts we sometimes manifest.our gratitude, as when a man leaves his money t6 a hospital that cared for him when he was indigent. At other times a gift. means "I am sorry,''~ as when a hus-band, after an unjustifiable outburst of anger, presents his wife with a box of candy. Sometimes a gift'ineans "'I want a favor," '_'I'm going to ask you for something shortly," as might be the~case when an employer bestows an unexpected bonus on-an'employee. Finally,oa gift may emphasize particularly our honor and affection-,for ~another, as when children buy their mother a new coat for Mother's Day. Honor, thanksgiving, reparation, impetration--these .meanings or, at least one of them, are the significance of every gift. The gift is a 284 No~emb~ec, 19'48 "ASSISTING AT MASS manner or expressing these, emotions By a deed. , The ~ift~ represent~ th~.persgff°wh'o gives,''~ By ~i,iihg of' his shbstahce, the dohor says it/ effect that be'wishes to give h~mself' to the~ecipient for one of .thd f0~ur ~urpos-es mentioned abd~ oi for all of' th'em together. '~'L~et us° apl~ly, this tb the Mass. -Th~ gift we therd offer.i.t0 God thr0tigh the priest is none other than oui Divi;ae Lord Himself. ~This is an articie of' faith. Alth6~gh the presentation of:this Gift to God is externalljr and officially made by th'e priest aldne, neverthel~ss the priest~acts both.tin'the name of Christ, the principal Gi~rer, and in°the hame of all the baptized, especially df those who are assisting ,~t the Massl Hence our divin~"Savior ;is ~!the°~ift Of all tb the Eternal Father. Onl~r the priest can make ~fie outwa~'d°'0ffering:which cdnstitutes the saciit~ce ;" but th~ priest mak~es, this ~offering :for ali the people! ~'ai~d each p~i~ticii~hnt af Mas~ Sh0uld,~th~eiefbre, inteinal.ly~ offer ~he~DiVind Gift in ti'~i0n £;ith the' priest. Arid each participant shOUld also rem~em-bet that ChriSf, trul~resent bn',the alta~ at the d6nsecration~ repre-sents himself arid eee~'y membe? of 'th~ Mysticat Body. ~ If, .then/we ~ilize tl-iat~at ex;ery M~ss. each ,baptized member of the congregation pr'e~ii~ti th~0ii~h~th~, priest' fiis~dwn ~ersoi~a! Gift to G0d~ it easy to understand why each one; "~hiSuld~-~put on~ thee~ affecti~ins ~f adbration,,thanksgivifig, .,rep'aration,o and~petition. ,,~hese are the .pi~rposes:of all I~ifts; and,at Mass all fouk purposes, are~al~w, ays" t6~be at'faified~ ~Gianted, tha~t, .the)~Church p'ros~ides ,'special !- Masses, of thanksgiving, o~p~tition, oor reparation.,, SuCh;, Ma~ses hierely niean that~on some particular occasion we~aie stressifig our~ spirit of~th~nks-giving or. expiatioh, or' impetration,' not that: we are, excludihg thi~ bther~ ends:~ ,If, ',then, ,ode0assists "at Mai~.~.with6ut realizin~o that he personally~thr6~igh~ fhe outward, actioix of, the priest, is truly; presenting his 6wnGift to God;'.,he~mi~ses.~.the~basic significance of the M~ss:,. He ~will ~0rbfit 'from it nevertheless; but,.th~ Mass by.its.~very, action', pos-tulates oUevery, participant an active, internal giving and,, conse'~ qhen~t[y~- ~the~ dispositions, of.~adoratibn,0, gratitude;~ repafatipn, o and petition whidi.dviiiy~ sincere giver possesses.~. If this Spirit°is missing, .we d6, not,'hear Mass intelligently--; .~We ~re,,like deaf men, attending an oratorical contest. Weisee, but we do, not understahd., But the Mass, since it is a true ,ga(rifice,: is not merely the, offerin~ of ¯a Gift.In every'genuine s~crifice, some~change must be Wr6ught in tht'~gift. " Hence ~th~ gift,~is~ not called Simply~ a ~" gi f,t~ "~but~.~a ".victim.'~' ¯ In sacrifi~es,!of, theo,Olit'L~aw~ this change or victimization wa§ accomplisheff by. the destruction,of the ~object offered. '~ .So too' off 285 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Calvary. ou.r.Lord, was s.a_crifie,d; by, His,d.ea~h--the~ .separa.tio.n,of His b0dy,,and.human soul. ~. Since ,the Mass~ besides .bei~g-,a,,true,~ s~crifice is also a renewal .of~Calva.ry,:we,.m~st,fi~ad. in it, a death,or,,destrtic-tion of so_me kind . ~Since., it, is, of faith ;that, Chri~st cannot.die~,or suffer physically~ since His resurrection;~ His death. .at ~Ma.,ss .is, m~rely mystical,,or~ tepresen~atiye. 'T9 under~ga.nd .this, we need only r~fl~ect a moment on the:do.uble, consecrati.on.;~,~the essence ofo the Holy:Sa.cri; rice. Though:,Christ beco_m, es~:wholly, Rresent _undgr. ,, each spe.cies~ at each consecration,, nevertheless the .words uttered by ,the pries~t d~ not give this impression.-" Ou~wa.rdly, but only outwardly,.; they ,siggify a, separation of His,.hody'and blood,, i.e., death,~ since t.he pries.t first icnotne:syeaclr tahteens: tch.oen bsreecaradt _be~sy ,t hsae y,winign e, "o,,Tyh~i Ss iysm Mg~y :b~omdsy i:.'s:.~ t~age,dc haaf~telir~ ac eb"r ioeff My blood.". ,, Since separgtion of body., and blood spells, death for a man, the two .consecrations,. taken, at their face or oral ~va!ue~ provi~l~ us with,an outward appearance of the Savior~s~ death.~ ~ All .theor logians~and, indeed: reason itself teach that such a "picture"-of' de.ath is painted by:.he"words0 of consecration and,, ~most,~the01ogi.a.n.s ad ~mit thatthis "pjc.ture" of death is the only change or d~estru~ti~on ~equired to .make the. Ma.ss a genuine sacrifice. -~ . .: .~_ >,~.0. ,: ~, ~,, , But wh~° do we" introduce such ~a dogmatic-pplnt ifito aw article which~profksses'to explain ho~ ,we,ate 1~o assist at Masig Becauseits correct-, fifiderstanding clarifies "an .additibnal ~ind' ,vital; internal dis-position which the,Holy ~Fathe~-~wishes ~very Chtholic to,(ultivi~te" ,at th~';Holy Sitcrifice;o He says that participants, in~;the-:Mass0 ','should immolate themselves as, victims." In other? words:~the.~Mass be'its vdry /action demands 6f'~all-f~iesent:~i ,spirit" of" sdlf-ifiamolation,'~of self-surrender to,God:' Ac~ordifig tb~.the~PontiffLthis :means~.more p~i'rticulaily that. each l~'hrticiplint in the-Mass "should conseCrate~him'- sell to the attainmerit~ of Gbd'~ glory ,an'd ~hould earnestly ~deslfe to imitate closely. :3esus C.'hriSt through-~the~ efidurance, of poignant sufferings:" In shbrt, the Catholic :whb assist.~ ;at Mass' intelligently should' realize' ,tha't- the'. Holy- Sacrifice" by~ ,its "~acrificial, action means th~it~he is~to go :.'all'Loutv ff6i Godi.~b6th .b~,~ac~ively.~'~ngagifig in apostolic wbrks,and~'by,suffering all evils° ~atiently:. This is,self~ immdlatidn, ~elf.-surrehd~r td"God." -~ ~ ~ ~! :: ~ : "-. :~o ~. ".~' ::~ °' . L ~And tl~e'reason~ ":Becausez as,explained abgv,e,,Chri~t Our Loid, the:Gift w~ .offer ttirouigh thd priest.,at:'Ma~s, is: not m~etely, ao ~Gift; but a~Gift~wkapped in the cloak of dda~h;b~h~dou151e ' onsec.ration. ~He is ~a mystically, oi symbolically, or celareseftatively'~ilain Gift toGod. 286" ~l'o~ember~ ! 9.'I 8 ASSISTING AT MASS He stands for us, represents us, takes our place, not merely ~is a Gift, but as~ a.Gift crucified externally again.' "Henc~ the ver~; action bf ttie Mass at the Co~nsecration requires that'.,~ve pu, t on that inward spirit which our Substitute', outwardly slain again in an unblbody manner 15y the "sword" of the consecratory words, exhibits namely; the spirit~of self-oblation, of tofal colasecration ~o God. True enough, this spirit, as~' the Holy Father observes, should.pervade a Christian thrc~ughout his life. It is symbolized evdn at baptism by" which we . "areburied ~ogether with Christ" so that we are henceforth dead to sinful pleasures. But 'the Mass by its very nature exacts an?active renewal of.this spirit of self-destruction fr6m each participant. W_ith-out such a renewal we are not alert and intelligent participators;: we miss a cardinal point of the significance of the sacrifice. To adoration, thanksgiving, reparation, and petition, therefore, should "be* added this spirit of sel'f-immolation: ~AII five of~ these dispo~sitions .~hould ~be aroused before the~ momdnt of Consecration arrives. Nor ~o01d we thii~k that we are hypocrites because lives do not~ actu'ally cortes/Send with 'the~com~lete consecration God*WhiCh the Mass expre~s~s~ for° u~ .¢vers; day. o The ;road to" "t3er-fection or to'complete ~urrender to God, is a~'.long roadL~ For most peop1~' itois meandering and rough. By sorh~ it is occasionally for~ sal~en~fo~ detours. But when we express'our totM~ dedication to~ God during MasS, we"are sincere2 We me,in thavunstinted dedication to God is the ideal which we truly yearh foi.~' We are no more hypo~ ~rites "in, inwardly.dxpressing this~tofal .devotibn ,to God than,_is the sinner who makes a fervent confession mar1~ed by genuine" soriow and a firm" resolve not to sin again, bat who, notwffh~tanding, siiis ahew through~ frailty'riot long after. ' '~ . " ~ ' A few more remarks about these five internal,°dispositions which the Pontiff teaches. 'We'sh6uld .remember that they admit of,almost infinit.e :degreds. " Not only wilP these, degrees vary in diffeient indb ¯ viduals, bu~ tl~ey will vary in, the same individual from one Mass to the 'next. ~Circumstances', both natural and supernatural'; e~plain this diversity. ~ But all five dispositions will-be ~almly, though earnestly and explicitly,~f0stered by ever~ Cathblic who really~under-stands the meafiing of the Mass. °~However, we must rdnfember, as the Holy Father cautions, that many Catholic'S, and some of best, are so circumscribed in their education that they cannot grasp the actual significance of thd Mass, which they nevertheless treasf~re highly. They know that Our Lord becomes truly present'on the 287 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious altar at the Consecration. This is about all that they do know about the Mass. They are pious, and they pray or try to pray during the Holy Sacrifice. Consequently they do possess, at least implicitly, sgme .of those internal dispositions which the Mass postulates, even though they do not connect, them directly with the sacrificial action. They profit, therefore, from the Mass; and if the flaw of not under-standing its true meaning proceeds merely from circumstances and not from any culpability, they may profit more than an erudite theo-logian. Despite this fact, it is most laudable, the Holy Father ~tates, to cultivate in oneself and to propagate to others the real signifi-cance of the Holy Sacrifice. Such. an apostolate will, generally speaking, make our people more alert and prayerful at Mass so that they will draw greater blessings from it. Such an apostolate will do much to banish daydreaming and those voluntary distractions which we have reason to believe lay hold on many of our people during the sacred mysteries. The same apostolate will increase attendance at Mass on week days. It will also prevent some Catholics from missing Mass on days of obligation, or from falling away altogether. We shall now treat briefly what the Holy Father has to say about the outward manner of participating in the Mass. Whatever external form 6ur assistance at Mass assumes, it has but one main function-- to excite the internal dispositions already discussed. The Holy Father expresses this truth several times in his encyclical. He says, for instance, in one passage, that the various ways of externally partici-pating in. the. Mass "have as their principal object to nourish and foster the piety of the faithful and their close ,union with Christ and with His visible minister; also to excite that internal spirit and those dispositions by which our minds should become like to the High Priest of the New Testament." Consequently, no one manner of externally assis.ting at Mass is to be rigidly insisted upon. This point is emphasized by the Holy Father. He .,himself offers several ways, which we shall specify,, in which one may laudably 'assist at Mass. He~ even gives reasons why no one method should be urged too insistently. He mentions, for example, that many Catholics cannot read even the vernacular and cannot, therefore, follow the Mass prayers. He declares tl~at others do not have the 'ability "to comprehend religious rites and liturgical formulas." 'Again, he states that "the temperaments, characters and minds of men are so varied and diverse that not all can be stirred and directed in the sdrne wa~t by prayers, songs and other sacred actions 288 November, 1948 ASSISTING AT MASS enacted in common." Moreover, he says that "different people have different needs for their iouls and different inclinations." In fact, the needs and :inclinatiohs of the :same individual vary from day to day. Hence .no 'one inflexible manner of hearing Mass should be imposed on all. Nevertheless,ceitain, outward ways of assisting at Mass are objectively preferable.to others, It is.noteworthy that the Pontiff m~ntions, in the first place the silent following of the Mass in the Roman Missal. He pralses~ those "who strive to place the Missal in the hands of the people so that, in union with the priest, they may pray in the same words and with the same sentiments of the Church." Secondly, he lauds those who are endeavoring to interest the people in the "Dialogue Mass." By "Dialogue Mass" the Pontiff gives no indication that he approves or even allows such a Mass when it involves the oral recitation of some liturgical prayers, such as the "Gloria" and the "Credo," simultaneously with the celebrant. The "Dialogue Mass" which the Holy Father sanctions is that" in which the people as a body, instead of the server alone, answer the prayers of the priest. As he puts it: "They respond tO the words ot the priest in dueorder"; or "They utter their prayers alternately with the priest." It is safe to say, therefore, that the "Dialogue Mass," so understood, has papal approval and even commendation. Thirdly, the Pontiff praises those who at Low Mass introduce the singing of those hymns "that are fitting for the various parts of the sacrifice." Fourthly, he approves those Low Masses in which the "Dialogue Mass," as explained previously, and the community singing of appropriate hymns are combined. Finally, at High Mass, he com-mends the community singing of the responses and of the liturgical chants, such as the "Credo." Th6se who promote all such practices are commended by the Holy Father.~ But to obviate the danger of rigid uniformity, he ¯ specifies other ways 'of assisting at Mass for the poorly instructed and also for those well-instructed Catholics who by reason of circum- 'stances or natural propensity do not wish or are unable to, follow the Missal or to engage in community prayer or singing. He states that such may during Mass "piously meditate on the mysteries of Jesus Christ." If they do not wish or are unable to do this, he recom-mends that "(hey perform other exercises of piety and say other prayers which, even though they differ from the sacred rites in their outward expression, nevertheless in their internal spirit conform to 289 C. A. HERBST Reoieto for Religious these rites." ' Such a general expression certalnly seems to. include at ¯ least the private recitation of the rosary during.Mass. ~,, Hence though certain-external .ways of hssisting,at Mass ar~; generally speaking, objectively preferable; nevertheless no one way is to be unflinchingly adhered to. The Mass postulates an internal spirit. ~The outward manner in which' that spirit is tO be obtained oi manifested is secondary and accidenfal. The Catholic. who at the Holy Sacrifice refines and develops his sentiments of adoration, gratitude, reparation, petition, and total dedkatibn to God is an active participant. The external way .which will help him best to develop those sentimentsis for him, at least on this particular occa-sion, the one that he should adopt. Dis!:rad:ions in Men!:al Prayer C, A. Herbst, S.J. y]HEN one prays vocally, the se,ntences or phrases or-even words W serve as strings by which one s thoughts are drawn along. Or we ,might say that they" are like pegs that hold our thoughts where they ought to be. In mental prayer, however, these aids to attention are wanting, and one's thoughts 'wander much more easily, So mental prayer may be said not to have as great moral unity as vocal prayer. This makes it more difficult to meditate than to pratt vocally. Distractions are thoughts during prayer which do not belong to prayer. Attention is the opposite: the~centering of,our thoughts during prayer on what belongs, to prayer. Attention', evidently, is essential to haental prayer. It is its substance. ~ In mental prayer we either think of the subject of meditation or wee do not. One cannot think of a thing andnot think of it at the same time. One thinks prayerfully on something, turns to something else, then after the interruption comes'back again to prayer. So there is a succession of prayerful acts and other acts. There is, of course~ nothing wrong with interrupting mental prayer. That is what we usually do when we say ejaculatory prayers. We pray for an instant and go right back to secular thoughts. This is not only all right but highly recommended by 290 November, 1948 DISTRACTIONS IN MEN'I~AI:, PRAYER h~ost ehlightened spiritual men. we should'.do this very,often, d~y," make a ~iabit, of it, _As Stiarez rather.~beculiarly p'ut's it, "ifiter-ruption~ s ~ard~'meritorious:''- ?~The~refore, - unless ~ ther~ :is,~ a -~special oblig~ition Of givifig to-mental prayer some ceitain.,defined, dontinuous time, no sin is cbmmittdd ifi this way, whether the ~urning,of:.the mind from.prayer td other ;thoughts is volunth~y or,.inv~olunthry, unless'~the interiuption~ is made through levity, and so unreas6nably and irreverently.:' ~' (Pesch, 'Prablectiones "Doqmaticae~ IX;~ n. 3~48.) Distrac[ions in~ mental prayer~ aie very, very common. One should not "get"discouraked on this accotiAt nor lose patience"with oneself. Evei~ holy men have them. If, ','misery loves company," we shall be consoled by what St. Augustine says in his commentary on Psalm 118: "One cries' out with ofie's whole heart when~one" thinks of nothing else. Such prayers are,.rare among the majority, frequent only with few. XVhether any are such even in the case of ~one single individual, I know not." Gerson gives many exhmples from among the Ancients to show the great difficulty of a complete ~rictory in ~this matter: Great exceptions like St. Aloysius, whos~ diitra~tions in ~half a year of prayer amounted only~to the Yspace;:of a ~Hail M~ry, ~tre shining examples to,be admired, but the~ arerarely imitable. (Cf. Zimmermann, Aszetik~: 383,'.384.), " ~'~ Involuntary distractions are not ~inful: They are~,rather'some-thing to be "suffered," to be borne with,' than s~mething we pbsi~ tively~do., ~"But to wanddr in mind Unintentionally does not deprive prayer of [all] its fruit. Hence Basil says: 'If you are so, truly Weakened by sin that you are unable':to pray attenti~iely, strive as much as you~can to cu~rb"~yourself; and God. will pardon you~ seeing that you are "unable to-stand in His presence in a becoming manner not~ through negligence but thrbugh frailty.'~" Bht attention is necessary for prayer'that its end be better ~ttained, and in Order that wl~at St. "Fhoma's Calls, the third fruit, of prayer, the immediate fi:uit attained her~ and now, spiritual refection of mind, be art/tined. (S. Th. 2-2, 83, 13.)- This spiritual iefection of mind is spiritual joy, pea~e of heart, cohsolation, joy in God, satisfaction, arid espe-cially the fostering of virtuous good will¯ Thereford, involuntary distractions ought by all, means ,to,be avoided. The}, should be forestalled, p~0vided against from afar~ sd. t6' speak.; iA ~firm determination at the beginning of prayer~mot to be distracted, and" perseverance~ in this intention, are both~morally and ps~,~hologicallyn'ecessary' for'this: morall~i, otherwise~ there may be 291 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious negligence~ or sloth; psychologi~ally, so that-the wilLmay be,buoyed up by the initial determinations. The preparatory ~acts so carefully recommended-by !St." Ignatius :in~ the: Addition~ at xhe end ~of the ,First Week of the Spiritual Exercises are.a great help, in, this matter. Then, where one notices that distractions are in the, mind, one must .turn again, to, prayer. ~ ,Remote prepara~tion is very important, too". m~ch .niore important, I am afraid, than most of, us realize in practice. This consists espe~cially 'in fostering a spirit of recollectiori during the' day; avbiding wordliness, and walking in the_presence of~ God., Some valuable~hints along this line are also given in the Additions: ~ ,f ,~ It-isr the common-teaching that deliberate distra'ctions in prayer are venially sinful when there is no go.od reason for them. ~ And this holds even for prayer that is not itself obligatory. The supposition in this case,is, of course, that one wishes, to remain in prayer and at the same time deliberately and without reason does 'not attend to God. Bwdoing this one seems to make light of Goi5 and thus~offendsagainst~ theft.reverence-required ~by the virtue.of religioff.,.~As, Suarez~explains it.:~:~'On the.one hand a man has-the intention, whi~h;he~ has not 1etracted, or did,not have a good reason for retracting, 0f,coritinuifig prayer;,,an.d ~to this end: rehaains'in .the'presence of~God by~;hi§ special intention in such,,a,pl~ice; iffsuch a manner, and,,.f0r, guch or ~o~16n~ a time;;~yet, on the other 15an_d~he: is negligent in aStending, or volun-tarily~ brings in, other,th0ughts foreign to that exercise,' And this we say,does,,not- happen without, sin, thou gh ~venial:" .: (Suarez;;De ;Or., 1.2; c.- 5,m. 1.8.) -o, ~ .:." ~ St.Basil's~explanation is,somewhat, similar: ,He says:2 "Wg must not ask, lazily; our mind,wandering here:and,there. ¯ If~ ao ma_n' :acts .thus,,~he will not only fail to get what-he asks ,,for but will even ~xasperate the L6rd more: For~ wheh a. man st.ands before a~prince and speaks, he :stands with much fear,,and certainly doesonot~ permit either_ ,the ~externab or ~ the,4nternal eye~ of. his~ :mind -tg~ ow, ander:, but remains attentive, lest perhaps-he come. to grieL :Howxmuch more ought~one to,stand before God with,fear and trembling, with his mind fixed~on Him alo~ne and intent on nothing els_e.". (P.atralo~ia Graeca, 31, 1333.) Holy'~nd learned, men through the ages have thought,,,thus, ~and good people consider as sinful distractions in prayer that are willful "and-unnecessary. ~.Since after mortal sin/the greatest evil-in the world is venial sin, and since willful distractions .are venial sins, we should ,by al! means try to eliminate them. Things like walking up and.down ?r looking 292 November, 1948 DISTRACTIONS IN MENTAL PRAYER out over the fields are not distractions at all. When there is sufficient r~ason for'admltting something distracting, it is not sinful. One may have to say a few words or answer the doorbell or light, the candles for Mass. Doing such things with'decorum is~all right. In general, one may do what is necessary pr very, convenient. In preparing for mental pra}'er one should work carefull~y so as to have ready material for meditation that will really hold the atten-. tion. Such preparation is not very difficult when made in private. One can then simply take a subject that fits, one's own present state and apply it as one knows. When the points are made in common ,,there is greater difficulty. The subject may not be at all pa~latable.and personal application may be practically impossib!e. _For such occa-sions one may well have stored up some .good meditations that are congenial. Perhaps even one could take a little time afterwards and prepare one. It has,often struck me that we are quite helpless and altogether wanting in resourcefulness in making our way through a period of mental pray~er when the matter on hand seems impossible or atten-tion has flown away, I see no reason why we cannot come to a gen-eral understanding with God for such contingencies. We might take some subject that always attracts us; the Holy Eucharist, for e,x~mp!e. An extended and affective preparation for Holy. Com-munion ought to be in place any morning. Or one might apply the Second Method of Prayer to the Common or Proper of the Mass. This, too, is quit~ in place, and easy. Analogous instances for each individual are almost innumerable. But they must be found and kept in readiness beforehand. A tired mind is helpless even to find them. Distractions in meditation usually come from incidents in daily life. We think of our work, of some problem child, a real or imagined injury rankles within us, we think of some recent joy. When a thing of this kind affects us greatly, it will come back to our attention again and again, although put aside many times. Why put it aside? In meditation we must pray mentally, but I know of no obligation that binds me 'to remain with a subject that simply will not hold my attention. Pray over the thing that is obtruding itself, that is forcing itself on your attention. It must be very out-standing in your life here and now or it would not come back so persistently. Pray over it. Pray over the distraction. Here again an understandifig with God to this effect is in ,place. We~c~ ,~ask Him to bless our work, to help us with the problem child, to bear the 293 C, A. HERBST ~ - injury patiently, with lov.e for Him, perhaps even with joy, and share ofir happiness. Making a virtue of necessity is ~not,alien to the spiritual life. ~' It sdems t0~ind that much " difficulty arises'in regard to mental prayer because we do no[take nature's lead. Itmight be a legitimate in~terpre[ation of the term 1supernatural life to say that~it is the life of grace~ built upon the foundation Of nature. There is probably hardly a saint living or .dead who does not or did not capitalize on personal circumstances and natural 'propensities in living his life of love with God. God's Providence has not ceased, arid the Holy Spirit makes use of a man's natural ~qualities and inclinations to advance hiin in tl~e 'spiritual life. Some find that thee beauty and vastness 6f ~iature° and the universe lead them upwards. Some cherish the 15resencd of God, others a sweet, gentle sorrow for sin, still others zeal for souls, and so on. Such things as these, too, might be the~ refuge of a ~wandering and tired mind during mental prayer. Ofie last refaark. A meditation on our every-day life might be very profitably made When we find ourselves suffering fr6m con-tinual distractions. A fifi~ novice master, a man of'great e~perience and deep spiritual insight, suggested that this even be deliberately chosen as a subject often: once a week, let us~ say, 'Lovingly and reverently in the prdsence of God we go through the d~y, beginning with the first waking thought, taking each action and exercise in ~;rder. R.eally, one can hardly do better. 'After all, all we' have-to offer God is bur life, our daily life. The~ chief purpose of'the n~ornifig meditation is to direct this life to God and to sanctify.it. To live ¯ today through with intense love is certainly the finest fruit of mental prayer. OUR "CONTRIBUTORS RICH/kRD LEO HEPPLER is chaplain at the 2uniorate and the Novitiate'of the Franciscan Brothers of Btookl~rn at Saiithtown Branch, New York. C. A. HERBST, GERALD KELLY, and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are members of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas: and J. E. BREUNIG is completing his theo-logical studies at the same institution. ~ 294 On St:aying in Love Richard Leo Heppler, O.F.M. ~"~N,.lUST HOW MA.NY points the modern worldly person and V, the Saint disagree it~would be almost impossible to calculate. But-surely~they would be at .variance in regard' to the meaning of at least one of our popular sayings: Andthe adage which provides the matter for difference of opinion is°the saying, °"Love ma~kes the world go 'round." Truly, it would be hard to find a ~more unscien'- tific little senterlce. It reveals a complete .disrespect: for the laws of nature: for attraction, movement, rotation, and, force. It shows a profound disregard for~ ,the. prindple of cause and effect. The man who coined that phrase might have been a~cavalier: it is imposs~ible to think of him as a devotee of the atom. Leaving this dis~u'ssioh aside for a moment, we would be quick to admit that° both the children of 'this world and. the saints.,agree that love certainly ~makes a human being go 'round. We would be hard put to explain some very strange ~onduct if we could not attribute it to love. When a, young man so far. forgets himself as to swing into the latest dance steps ,in the,pennsylvania. ,Station, the surprised bystanders, will indulgently nod their-heads and agree that he is in Iove. When the, young lady who sits next to you, ,on .the First Avenue"bus insists upon hummlng~-and .humming rather attractively--"Only Make.Believe," you excuse the distraction and gallantly conclude that she' is in love. When a tough-.looking truck driver gazes long and, ardently at, the, wedding rings in.: Findlay~- S~auss',, the, p~ss~rs-by diagnose the case immediately.:~And they do the same when they see a pair of very blue and ~¢ery feminine eyes frowningly appraise ~the pipes or belts in. Wanama.kers. But ~hen.~you,;se~ a pretty little high-school girl ?r .a bent.old man kneeling in'ardent prayer before the tabernacle, you can be quite certain that tl~e judgment of worldly ones will be far less indulgent. Instead of sayifig, "She is in love," or, "He. i.s in 10ve"~as indeed they r~ally are the,modern pagan, if such a one were present; wou.ld be more apt to remark, "She's just a kid. She'll be all right in a couple of years. We all do crazy things when we're young.'L Or, "He's in need of a good rest. Ever since, he lost his wife he's been acting odd." 295 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER Review for Religious So it starts to become obvious that the modern worldly person disagrees witl~ the saint on' the meaning of the saying "Love makes the world go 'round" because the former believes only in l~uman love, ahd he is ~interested only in ~t/~is world. Whereas the saint knows that human love is not the only, nor indeed the highest, love; .just as he believes that thi~ is not" the only, .nor indeed'th~ be~t, World, He knbws that there is a love unass~o~iated-With cupids and V'alentines which ~uni~es him not°fo~ human beings but to 'God Himself. He believes that ther~ exists a world where not television butthe ~beatific vision ~is the reward :of the:blessed. Hence the saint really ~ believes that 10ve mhk~s the world go 'round~ because God is love, and aroundHiin all things rotate: Once we understand the deeper spiritual truth behind the saying "Love m~kes 'th~ world' go 'round," we are well on our way to discovering" one c~f the great ~ecrets of tile ~saints. " Unlike the truly wordly person, the saints fell in love with God;zbut, unlike us, they resolutely insisted upon staying in love with Him. Falling in love is.not difficult for ~most of us, but staying in love calls for a stag-g~ ring amount of generosity arid sacrifice~ To fall in love with'~Jesus Christ is a very flattering experience; to stay in°love with Him is s6metimes' nothing short of martyrdom. H~ive'.you ever noticed howT, the determination to stay in love ~i~h" Jes~s" Christ is common tb all the s/tints; while calling for differeht reaction~ in each? The determination to stay in love with God mad St~ Paul'el0quenf while it caused St. Joseph to be silent: it impelled St. F~ancis to .preach ~tb the Si~Itan',of E~ypt and ~t. Peter Claver fo. minister ~o the" slaves; it inspired~St. Augu.~tine to take up hi~ ~en and' St. Dida~us t0~ take~ u13' hiss'shovel; it drove St. Fran~is"Xavier' to Indi~"aia-d it~ drove the Little iFlov>er to~.the cloister. '. ~ - ~ " . We religious conside~ OurselVes the .friends, follow_ers, ~and~lover~ ~f 6esus, Christ, and both .~h~ w6°rld and the Church,' recogniz~e us as such. Our vocation is ,.n~ot~ merely to fall in'love with Jesus Christ; it is to stay in love with Him. Andstaying inlove ~ith Jesus Christ entails much more than _saying, ".Lord, Lord." It ~meansl being faithful to'our pr.omises to :try to °become more and more Christlike; it means exerting a conscious effort to grow in holiness; it means the constant ~¢illingness to force ourselves tb do the will of God no matter how hard it may be. Staying in love with Jesus Christ means trying" to use each day November, 1948 ON STAYING IN LOVE of our spiritual lives'as if we re~illy ~were :in love. ,It includes sudh thinl~s as getting out of bed promptly: trying to make a~good, pdrsonal,"practical meditation: ~putting our hearts,and souls into our Mass and, Holy Cdmmuniofi; trying to banish distractionsfrom our prayeis; carr~;ing"out our appointed tasks well; making an~effort, to preserve thee spirit 6f-recollection by such means as ,ejacu!atory prayer: being cheerful: charitable, and "co~operative at/community recreation: observing the prescribed silence: a'nd 'so on., ,-It means that ,we sincer~l~r try to ,make 2esusrChrist the King and Centei~ of our lives by,livifig"ouk ever~y thohght, word, and deed. for Him. Staying in lo~re with°Jesus~ Christ means tr)~ingo to be ~ satisfied with our l~t whatever it alay be. A cheerful,'morik in. the/days of old used to add privately to his litan)~, "From dissatisfied brethren, deliver us O Lo~d." Only a few Of us might be,willing to spend' long dull hours studying Sanskrit,, but almost all_of us would prefer that to a half hour each day~ with ~perpetually dissatisfied religious. We expect tragic figures':t0 su!k~t.hrough our literature just.a.s we expect spoiled children to pout on our city streets, but it is a!ways disap-pbinting to find them in the convent or ~the,monastery. Perhaps~ Lhe dissatisfied religious, was once a lover 9f Jesus ~Christ and gave~ gre.at promise of. advancing in perfection. Maybe°she who now~. complains about the regular weekly appearance_s of~,the same dessert and the cheap material of her-new habit--maybe she as a novic~ once delighted .in giving~up ,her,~cake: and° ~may.be .she ~s~iled upon her mended habit as upon a regal gown.,,It is true thaLdufing.the passage of the years the glamor of the profession ceremony does wear off. The flowers and the music and the incense and the candlelight fade. But-we must not let the similarity between our profession and the Three Hours Agony fade. Of course, it is not always easy to be content with our lot. It is not always,easy to teach French when.we feel more inclined to decorate the chapel or to fill prescriptions' or to type reports. It ~s n~t easy, to be cohten.ted when ~we are placed under temperamental, suspicious, orodownright unfair;i~up~eriors. It is always easy~ to be contented when you'have to. live with ~a religious who considers himself a necessary and an it/fallible afldition .to ~our conscience. NO, it isn't always ea's~ to try ~o be.~atisfied with our lot; but staying in love with Jesus Christ requires that-,w¢ try to be satisfied for His sake. . Staying in love~with J~sus'Christ meam refusing to fall inlove with anyone or anything else.: In modern pagan Aaierica infidelity, 297 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER like co~kfails .Before diniaer~:is taken~ for granted: ,We°might be ihclined ~tb_censure rather ,segerely the~marital ad, vent,ures, of, our Holly.whorl actbrs and adtresses Without realizing that we, too can,be unfaithful.-sand we arL urifaithful-to Jesus,Christ~ to,sbme extent at least,Af we permit 0~r~'affe~tions t6 become,so strongly.-,attache~ to any ~erson or thing as to deprive ~ Him ~ of the fulldove we have promised: ~ We odce vowed that the" 0nly,tfiangles ia our lives would be~in our geometr~ classes." Hehc~:we cannbt afford to bec6me so inter~ite~ in an6~her person or in Chaucer or in the Rh factor or in a new'arrangement of Panis An~elicos or in the recipe: for baked Alaska or Charlie'McCarthy that we lose interest in' growing i~ holiness. If We seftle for~ h :divided service we are fair-weather- friends of 2esus, not lovers:~ :Then'religious life ~bddo~ds-moaotonous: then it is easy to criticize the c0~munity or the ~uperior; then fickleness and, shal-lowness tak~ theplace of faith a~d humility. Th~ ~esolhte~ religioui Who i~ determined to stay in love with 2esus,Christ,comes tff~arn that 16v~ does make the world go 'round. He Will ~a~ to' persist in tryin~ ~o live each:day of his spirithal life to thi best 0f his 'ability in'~r~of 0f"~is love for:JeSus",Christ. H~'~ill ha~e t6 try to b~' sati~fie'd :Gith his lbt sinc~ that i~wh~'deiu~,~wants. H'e: Will ende~v6r'~6 be;~ffii~hfhl to ~i~ love for 3eshs~:nd ~atter~ what S~dr~e that' dfit~ils:" Hd will not let routine ~hi11 his qove, riot sick~ ~dss enfdebl~ iL Uor~arthlg ~ttrac~ibn~ devitaliz~ it: nbi time:dimAt: Is~t any wonder t~?t---he-,can Under~tand: the~.rttue meaning :of ;fhe ~h~ih'g; '~d~ :~'~ke~the ~wbrld . Whoever. delights' ~E,gieat 'hteratu~e ~fll"~welcome" the; ne~ edition wor~; of. Jo~.-He~=tIewm~n, no~. Ieiag:~IuIlished: t~. kongmans }i~r~n, ind Company, ~e~ $otk.,~,Itti~ the purpose o~ this edmon "to. p~owde,~Ioth for the general reader and ~e stnI¢nt, the latest and Iest texts ,of those works which b~d fai~ t6 s(ind th~ otfe'stt~'me ,'"- as.'.w.e.l.l .a.s. .t.o".p.r.e.s.en.t. .a.n.ew~ ce"r"tain of'hii:W'6rks.which have primarily a,histofic~l interesti,'but which:mus~ be reador cohsu~ted_iLt~e ~ish~ to ~understand the mang~faceted mind of the author." Thiee volumes appeared in 1947 :. APOL~IA PRO VITA SUA (pp. xx~ti + 400), A GRA~R dF' Ass~' (pp. xxii' + "39~) ~ 13). ~ui" fh~ ifi ~ 1:948~ three~ vdlumes ~of' ESSAYS' AND ~SKETCHES (pp. x¢iii"+ 382; x~ + 368; xvi + 381) have been published. ~g,it~d~nt~ng ~e~eral . reader will find the introductions helpful to, a,,complete.,understanding of,the~ text. EaCh ¢olnme ~ pr6vlded with "an ifidel i:hd 'gs pri~ gt S~'.5"0. T~ do,plead set is to'~ohlist" of nineteen volumes. 298 . On the Du y: [?.ovln9 {:he , ble ghbor Especially ['N'~LA~ING'"t~ gefle~al prffep[ 'of ffatdnal chanty, "thee: [ log~ans ~sually call attentmn to the fact ,that thts duty includes = " ft :nlighb S)ff;"~'eve~ ~nemi~s; n~vertBel~is; ' b~caus~" Hi.self saw fit to voxce a sp~c,al precept regarding the love of ene-mies and because this duty has speciai g[~ulties, the m6ral theology usually.include an exphc~t t?eat~eht of ~h~.2dUty.of io¢ifig enemiesi' "~he~e~tre~fises £ontain much'that~is ~prac~icaF not only for tBe ordinary Cathohc'but also for rehg~ous. ~ge purpose f t~e present~ notes ~s" to outhne'tbe'commo~lg ac~e~ted teacBing on~ the duW of loving ones neighbor;-parucularly-one s~ enemies, and to comment more m detail-on points.that seem~ to .de of espmally prac-tical value to religious. "'~" ~.~ .:~,. ,:~,, ~ 2, !., THE ,GENE~L PRECEPT.OF CHARI~ : There ar~ many specifictd~ties of fzaternal .tharity:,, for,~example, ¯ al~sgiving,, fraternal correction, ~ the~'avoidance: eL scandal ~ ~nd :0f c0-operation~ini-another~s.sin, and t~e~love~of, enemies~': But;all these dUties~ar~ derived ,from the general .precept .of. fraternal charity, ~which ma~ be~bNeflF'st~ted as follbws: Bg~ diai~e ~receOt, ~ must 1oo~. all d~ ffei~hbori wit~ ,'t~e ;/6ve~ of cfiarif~ ; and, tfiis ~dut~, :ext~Ods~ to thougMs;, words; and deeds. 1 A .briefl explanation ofithis, genera[ law maycontain, a -number" of ~helpful, points ~and :will !eag~-;t~g gro¢~d for as,more~detiiled consideration of the-'command to.~love~9~g~ enemies;. :,~: .~;. ~ ~. ~,. : .~ " ., . ".~ ~ " ~hari~ i~ a~ spatial kind of love, a supernatural love which is d~)etted primaril7 to clod. BE 'charity we love GOd because, as ~e know H~m through faith, He is infinitely ~ort~y of love. Genuine chanty towards the neighbor is also a love for God because the neighbor, as known through faith, shares in d/sfincfi~l~ divine perfections, fo~ ex~p! , the divi~e-lffN of grace and the divine destiny of seeing God face to face. - ., ,, ,, -- Itfis important to note that fraternal .cha'ri~) rake's its ~otiv~'from .299 GERALD KELLY Review for Relioious faith; it sees the neighbor through the eyes of faith. Through faith we know ~hat ~the.'neighb0r igarticipates, Or is called to participate, in the divine life of grace; that he is destined for .the beatific vision; that Christ has identified Himsdf with the neighbor: that the exemplar of true fraternal charity is Christ Himself; that Christ has told us to love ou'r neighbor as He has loved us; that we are all united through Christ in God: and so forth. Because of the supernatural bond by which God unites men to Himself, we love one an6ther "~vith the same kind of love with which we lo~ve God--theological dharity. Fraternal ~harity, therefore, is immeasurably superioriv all merely natural love, even the noblest. I might mention here that there is no necessary conflict.between natural~love and charity. A man's good qualities can be recognized by reason, and he can be r~asonably and nobly loved for these. And such reasonabl.e love can easily be supernaturaliFed and ~ absorbed, so to speak, in the greater love of charity when we see the neighbo.r's lovable.qualities as reflections of the divin~ goodness . Who is my Neighbor? In answering the lawyei's question Witfi the parable of the Good Samaritan; Our Lord did-not wish tb say .that the priest and the levite who scorned th'e afflicted man were not really his.~neigh. bors; rather, He wished to"bring out graphically .the~fact that the orily ;one o who " really, acted:'like~ a neighbor .; was ,;the foreigner, the Samaritan', who b0i~nd up his,°wound~' ,and 'supplied his needs. Christiaxt otradi'tioti, v~hich i~" the best interpreter~of. Our.0Lord's w0ids, has~ ahbays underst6od the,word ','neighbor',': (in the'precept "Lov~ thy~neighb6r as thyself")'t0 mean' all~ men:, ~In fact,, the word includes'~ everyone" who has a. common destiny.~-with' us: ~ men on earth, the soul~ in purgatory, the blessed in heaven, and (in:some sense) even the angels. Among rational and intelligent creatures, only the damned are excluded from the notign of neighbor, because ~heirdamnation ha~ forever severdd t.h~ fie that bound' them~ to us. All others are~ bur neighbors a~nd are obje.cts for our charity.'Ho~wever, the commandment is usually:und~rsto0d to refer particularly to men on earth. ' Tho~t~fit, Word, and Deed The commandment of love includes internal and external acts, that is, "thoughts, words, and deeds. Arid like most commandments 300 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR it has its negati~,e and its affirmative 'aspects: that is.' it,forbids certain things, and ~it. commands certain things. It ~would be impossible to Live here anything approaching a complete enumeration of the~duties of charity, because .charity is a very geneial virtue.,which affects all our attitudes towards and dealings with our neighbor. I can give here,only~ a few general rules which may help individuals in estimating their own duties as regards fraternal charity.- A negatwe rule, that is, a formula expressing what we must not do, is best expid~sed in terms of the golden rule. "S~ich a formul~ would run somewhat as fdllows: Abstain from ~11 deliberate thoughts, worlds, and actions which you think you w~uld reasonabl~r resent if you were in'your, neighbor's place. -(For a more complete explanation~' of this rule with regard tb speech, see "Notes on Detrac-tion," in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ~V, 380-'92.) -6n the affirmative side, the'kerr word i0r"°charity o'f"i thc~ught is "well-wishing." Charity is a love of benevolence, that is, of unselfish and disinterested well-wishing; hence, an internal act of fr~iternal chari~y i~ aii act of supernfiturfiI ~ell:v)isiai~ag. Such an ac~ can expressed in many g;ays: ~or example, by praying for th~ fieighbor's sa!vaSion; by rejoicing over his good f6rtun~, ~spec!ally growth.in virtue; by °so[rowing over his misfortune, especiall3i sin, and by making internal acts of reparation for the sins of o[hers; by desiring the true happiness of our neighbor; by being, prepared to relieve his needs for the love "of God; and so forth. Even. the natural compas-sion we are apt to feel for those who suffdi td~pof~l loss and"'mi~: fortune and the spontaneous joy that we feel ovdr the temporal for'turie of a frle.ndlmay bd implicitly inclfided in and supernatural-ized by charity, pr6,~ided the propersubor"d m" "atxon t~6 eternal,galues ~s not set aside. That we are°obliged to make such internal acts o~f'charity as I have just enumerated is the unhesitating teaching of Catholi~c the-ology( The Church l~as condemned the opinion that we can fulfill all our duties of charity by merely external acts. But how often mus~t we make such~ actsh To that question the best theologian cannot, give a definite answer.~ ~.AI1 _that can be said regarding the obligatipn is that such acts must be made occasionatl~l. However, though'~the obligation itself is vague as to frequency, theo-logians generally~ agree that it.is practically impossible for~one_who~is trying to lead a good Catholic life to fail in this duty. As for what 301: GERALD KELLY is advisable, all.theologians wguld surely"agree that frequent acts of o fraterrial chaHt3 should be highly recommended. .As a-matter of fact, ~the prayers that are universally recommended for daily r~cit~l contain at least two acts of fraternal charity: namely, the act of~Iove and the Our Father. Speaking of prayer for the neighbor, the question might be asked: must we pray for individual neighbors? The general la~¢ of Yharity does not. demand" this, although certain special relationships ,such as ties of blood may do so. The general law of ~chari~y is ~l~l!ed if We include all our. neighbors in our acts of love; or, to put the mat-ter in another way, it suffices if we exclude no one from those acts which, as mentioned above, must be made occasionally. Hence, a brief rule for satisfying the general precept to make~ i~nt~ernal~ acts Of fraternal charity is this: occasionally say the act of love and mean it, or say th~ Our F~ther now and then, and~excl~de no one from its petitions. s~rhat about words~and deeds that is, when are we obiiged to manifest our love for our. neighbor by speech and action? "['lie key word here is "need"; and a brief rule epito.mizing our duties to per-form external acts of charity may be stated thus: I am obliged to help my neighbor (corporally or spiritually) when he'really needs my help and when I can give tl~e help without a proportionate incon-venience to ,myself. It should be noted that this rule expresses only the Christian minimum, namely the duty under pain of sin of performing the works, of mercy. The Christian ideal, which was Christ's glory and which has ever been the Church's glory, goes much higher and helps the needy even to the point of utter selflessness and heroism. (Noth: As re~a~rds the external manifesthtion of. charity, theo-logians usually lay great stress on the necessity of showiii~g what they call "the common signs of good will." The explanation' of this matter is best reserved for the section of these r~otes d~aling with the love of enemies~) ,~, The Diolne Command The jottings contained in, the previous paragraphs explain the meaning and the extent of th~ gei~eral law of fraternal charity. ,To complete them we might ask and answer the question; "Why must we love one another?" ,The ~nswer is derived from both reason and faith. 302" November, 19~ 8 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR ',h'Reason~tells u~s that, even~iiGod' h~d~n0t ~aihed.man to :~ super.; natur~l', status, we, shotild have some obligation-to love one~, ari0ther-; for even in the natural order,'men~ would be unitdd by,'a common n~ture ,and. ,a common d~stiny. :,' Moreover, being, social ~by ,n~ature, they Would'have t6 live, and work, a~nd re'create together." ~Bec~use ~f these ~facts,,° th~ n~ttiral ihw itself, which, is perceived by reason, calls for some love: an'd~ finion, esp~cially for ~the wellLbein~-of hulnah hature: th~it il, that men may ~livd ~ogether ~ith that degree of hai~= m6ny which is really helpft;1; t-o "the attainment~ of their purpos~ on earth. . - AS a matter of fact, we do not live in a purely natural order: Through faith we know that God has givd~a u,~ ~ Share'in His own life (sanctifying grace) and the destiny of sharing in His'own~ hap-piness (the beatific vision)"~ We enjoy an entirely special union witli God in Christ; and the necessary preservative of this union~is charity. Scriptural texts on fraternal charity can be multiplied .almost without end. (Cf. for example, "The 'New Commandment' of Love," by Matthew Germing, S.J., in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I, 327-37.) -Some of these texts are, it seems, merely counsels, but many of them evidently state a real precept to love the neighbor. Our Lord referred to fraternal Charity as the second grdat command-ment (Mt. 22:39); and St. John said, :'This commandment we have from God, that he who loves God must also love his ne.igh-~ bor" (I John 4:2I). As regards external charity in particular, the clas~sic ~exts are the account of the Last Judgment (cf. Mt. 25:42), in which Our Lord clearly indicates that the attainment of salvation will depend on helping the needy, and the strong words of St. John: "He that hath the substance of this world, and shall see his brother in need, and shall' s~ut'~up his bowel.s from him: how cloth the charity of God abide in him?" ('I. John 3: 17-18). II.-THE LOVE OF ENEMIES That the love of enemies is included in the precept of chari~y and is in some sense a special sign of the true follower of Christ is indicated by Our Lord's words: "But I say to you, love your enemies: do good to them that hate you; and pray for them that persecute and calum-niate you: That you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven, who maketh his sun to rise upon the good, and bad, and raineth upon:the just and the unjust. For'~f you lord them that love 303 GERALD KELLY Revle~b for Religious you, what reward, shall you have? Do not even ~he publicans this? And if you salute your brethren only, what do" you more? Do not also the heathens this." (TvIt. 5 : 44-47.) Many other texts of Scripture have a similar.meaning; even the Old Testament has some beautiful passages on the love of enemies and some moving examples of forgiveness. That forgiveness in par-ticular is enjoined on us is apparent from the Our Eather and from Our Lord's ans@er to Peter, which He illustrated with the story of the unforgiving servant and which He concluded, with the strong words, "So also shall my heavenly Father do to you [namely, deliver over to the torturers], if you forgive not everyone his brother from your hearts" (Mr. 18:35). This divine precept is clearl.y in accord with man's social nature. We are all prone to offend; and if it were permissible to nourish hatred and a spirit of revenge and to deny pardon, progressive_ social peace would be extremely difficult, even impossible. One needs.only to glance at history to see the disastrous effects that inevitably flow from hatred and revenge. Miscellaneous Observations Who is my enemy? In its primary meaning the term refers to anyone who has offended me, whether by causing me needless sot-row, or by insulting me, or by c~ausing me some harm such a~ a bodily injury, a loss of reputation, or property damage. In a wider sense, my enemy is anyone who dislikes me, or anyone whom I dis-like- or for whom I feel an aversion, "The principles of moral the-ology which will be explained in this section refer mainly to an enemy in the primary sense: but they also apply, and with even greater force, to an enemy in the secondary,meaniong of the ,word. We are not bound to love enemies because they are enemies but in spite of the fact that they are enemies. In Other words," enemies should be loved for the same reason that other neighbors must be loved, namely, because of the common ~ties, -natural and supernatural, that bind ,us together in God. Although thereis a special precept to love enemies, this does not normally oblige us to show them a special love: the precept simpl' insists that even enemies may not be excluded from the general duty of charity. Obviously, the precept of loving one's neighbor does no~ refer to a sensible love. Since "this kind of love is not under the free 304 Nouerober, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR: direction of the will, it is not even of obligation with. regard to God, parents, children, and so forth. The love prescribed is the super-natural love of internal and external benevolence. It is of partic.ular importance to keep this in mind when we are speaking of the love of enemies, because in this matter more than in most others the feelings are apt to cause trouble. Another observation of practical value: To love one's enemy is not the same as approving of his unlovable qualities. If an enemy sins, we may hate his sin and wish for his correction. If he has repulsive habits, we may, within the scope of well-ordered charity, take means to,.have him correct those habits. The precept of loving our enemies imposes upon us the same duties of thought, word, and action that were explained in the. notes dealing with the general precept. However, because of the special difficulties involved, moral treatises on the love of enemies usually lay stress on these three specific duties: (a) to put aside hatred and a desire for private and ill-ordered revenge; (b) to show the common signs of good will; (c~ .and to do what is required to bring about a reconciliation. Hatred and Revenge I have read many treatises on hatred: and my candid impression is that the more lengthy they are the more confusing they become. I- will content myself, 'therefore, with saying that a good practical definition of hatred is to wish one's neighbor an evil that is not duly subordinated to some good. It is certainly hatred, therefore, to wish an enemy spiritual harm: for example, that he will remain in sin, that he will lose his soul, and so forth; for such harm cannot be. properly subordinated to any good. Theoretically, it is not hatred to wish someone a temporal evil for his own good: for example, to wish him sickness or financial misfortune as a means of reforming him. But theologians wisely caution against fostering such thoughts, as they can readily be a form of self-deception when they concern those we dislike. Revenge. is punishment for an offense committed. Ordinarily speaking, revenge belongs to one in authority, and it is wrong for private individuals to take or to plan to take revenge. However, theologians reasonably consider that this rule admits of exceptions in minor matters: for example, a boy might justly punish another boy for insulting his sister. 305, GERALD KELLY' Revieu~ for Religious ~ : :Insofar as~,,punishment /nay be justly inflicted for offenses, it is permissible-to wi~h that such punishment be visited upon.an enemy. Btit~ dweiling on" sUChothoughts is dangerous; because it can easily develo15 an, unfgr~giving spirit, and e~en lead tb unreasonable desires of punishment. ,~ ~ ~: After suffering an offense, we usually feel '(all hot inside,",and our imaginations conjure up many evils that we should like to inflict or to have inflicted on our,offenders. In themselves,~ these thoughts are spontaneous and involuntary~ and are therefore isinless.~ They become sins' 6f hatred and revenge only when they ~are deliberate and' when they include the wishing of unjustifiable, evil to our enemy. HoweveL :the protracted' bro6ding over offenses or over the bad qualities of hn,~enefiay, even when no actual evil is desired; is a danger-. 6u's pastime. ~At, the very least, it disturbs digestion and of coarse,. it makes it all the more. difficult to fu!fi11 our external duties to our enemies. The Common Signs. A second duty that calls for particular consideration when ene-mies are concerned is that of showing "the common signs of good will." By these common signs are meant the little courtesies that are ordinarily shown toall men, or at~least to all o~ a certain!' group : for example, to return a greeting, to answer a question, to buy and 'sell' in a public store; to reply to'letters, to tip the hat to ladies, to show some sign~of respect to superiors, to help one who is in'need, and so ¯ forth. The idea ,here which seems so obvious that it is difficult ,to express in words--is that such courtesies are not normally reserved to one's intimate fiiends but are extended to our neighbors because they~ are fellow-citizens, fellow-students, fellow.workmen, and 'the like. Ih a word, these common signs are different from the kindnesses and attenti6ns that are nbrmally shown only to one's friends~: for example, to invit~ them to dinner, to have them as guests over the week'-end, to confide secrets, to carry on an intimate correspondence, to visit them when'i~he~r are ill, and So forth.: Tgese latter 'a~e ~lled' special °Signs of good will: precisely becaUSe they generally indicate some, relation'ship which i~ especialiy~ int!mate. . '~The' principle t6 be,kept in mind here is this:' weare'~0tdinarily" 0blig~d ~to Show' th~ e6mmish~i~ns of g6od~vcill"e~en'to our enemies;-; th~'speciifl s~gns~may generally be reserved f6r'friends. ~ In stating the rule I designedly used the words: ,"ordinarily'" and 306 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR "generally" because exceptional circumstances may demand that even the special signs be shown to one's enemy or may, 6n the other hand, warrant at least the temporary withholdiiag of the common signs. For example, to invite one to dinner is normally taken as a special sign of benevolence: yet if dohn gives a party for "all the members of his class," ,he is not at liberty tO exclude a classmate who is his enemy. He must, in this case, invite even the enemy, unless one of the excusing causes to be mentioned later is present. And the shme is to be said for Mary if she gives a dinner for "all the,girls at the office": and for a' religious who is~{n the habit of visiting "all who are in the infirmary." In such cases the special favors (inviting to dinner, visiting the sick) become to some extent common because they are extended to a certain group. If one's enemy belongs to this group, the common courtesy must be extended to him too unless special reasons, to be indicated later, excuse one from this obligation. On some occasions, therefore, we must extend special favors even to our enemies. This is an exception to the general rule. And the general rule that common signs must be shown the enemy also admits of,exceptions. However, it is one thing to state that this rule admits of exceptions;, it is quite another to formulate a reasonable policy that Will govern the exceptional cases. I will give here some examples of cases in which the denial of these signs is considered reasonable: and after studying these examples we may be able to formulate a general principle that,can be appii~d to all cases. The examples given here are culled from various manuals of moral theology. Everyone has a right, to protect himself against mistreatment by others. Hence, in the event that a fellow-religious is constantly indulging in a disagreeable form of teasing, ridicule, or rudeness, I may certainly defend myself by denying him ordinary courtesies until he mends his ways. ,For example, I might refuse to speak to him, or refuse to do a favor that I would ordinarily do for others, if such refusals were merely to show him that his conduct is painful and disagreeable and that I wish him to desist. Superiors have the power within reasonable limits to punish their subjects. It is generally considered as within their punitive power to temporarily" deny common courtesies to subjects who ,have given offense. ~Some authors tl~ink that in minor matters even equali may resort to this method of reasonably punishing another equal who has offended them., In other words, they consider that the' hurt feelings that might be induced by temporary coldness and aloofness 307 GERALD KELLY. Ret~ietv for Religious would be a ~just i~unishr~ent.for 'the offender-~and the tyi~e; of 15un-ishm~ nt that Would.be within the,, rights .of :private~individtials. Another reasonthat,"justifi~s a ~temporary exterior, coldness towards an offender"is the, well-founded hope ~that, such treatment will bringhim,to" a better frame of mind. 1 This is different from and in :a .higtier i~rder th~n me're °Jpunishment ~ven when'ijustl~ inflicted., , There ~is~ the, problem of embarrassment. ;For a ,short¢,time after ,a qilarreF people ,usuhlly, feel ~e±tremel~i embarrassed,~in, each other's ,pres.ence. I~Avoidance*0f this mutual embarrassment would be'a sufficie.ni [eason fbr temporarily keeping away from: an en'emy,, even though that:might mean" the omissions, of one of)the,Common signs, of, gobd will. For example, suppose that ifi a (ert'ain conih munity it is c'us'tomary for the "religio.us to take turns visiting the, sick during recreati6n." In this,case,'visiting the sick is a common sign'o~ good v~ill~ in,'that~, community_-~that 'is, ' a~" kindhess shown iridis.: criminately to, all, the members of.the community who are ill;~,~)But su~pl~ose" that two of the religious have recentl~r qu~reled,,~ and one then'i is n6w in the irifirmary and it is the other's turn to ~visit him. It might~be.th~t.consideration for the, sick would e~cuse the second religious from, making the visit. "Of course, the ideal thing Would be for both to forget it arid for the visit to take place just"as if there had been no quarrel; ,ne~,~rtheless, if the second religious honestly con, ~idered that the visit would be embarrassing and a source of annoy-° ance to,the sick, person,'he would be justified in o/hitting it. Some people say that;they avoid their, enemy and do not speak to him or show him other ,signs of benevolence because they fear that this,,will-lead' to afiother"quarrel, or that the enemy will ptit~, a sinister ihterpretation on 'their actions and use these as an occasion for~ offering fukther offensev'~Granted that the fear of these evils is, a well-founded one, this is certainly a sufficient reason for omitting the customary expressions of good:will. Of'course, such fearsare'~often groundless;~ but if one has really attempted to establish amicable relations.with another and has met only with~,coldness or sharpness, theie is tainly ~nb obligation'to continue tl~e fruitless endeavor.,.In shch a'case the ,fault is all, o/~ one side. ¯ . -" Unfortunaiely, even in religion there are sour-minded indi-viduals; who~refuse'to get alohg With others, who cause great pain" too fellow-religioug~who Wish 'to be courteous~ and,,~cho, egpecially in, a small 'house~, are ;veritable thorns in the side of, the community. How they ju~tifysuch conduct is somewhat of a mystery. ~ 308 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE' NEIgHBoR °" qn the case just considered the obsta~ie to fraternal ,hi~rmony was only one party. What of the case of two religions, members of thee same ;community, who, Stbongl~ dislike" each bther an'd "either impli~itly'fi~xplicitly agree to bav~ nothing to do with ehch oth~er? Are they justified by mutual agreement .in failing to show' to'~eacl'i other the common~,:courtefies~such as speaking to each other? To answer th~s' question, I must.sel~arate the points that are clear, fron~whi~t is'uhcl~ar. The following points are cl(ar: First, both beligi6"~s:aie '~ertai'fily obliged.~o abstain from what has previously be~n d~scribed as internal hatred. Sec~)ndly, each is'obliged~o be wiHin~ t0'~ extei~d f6 the %ther any spiritfial dr temp6ral ~Ip that" might l~e,0f c~blig~itibn according to the rules of well-,orderedcharity. Thirdly " and this is, i~'seems t6 me, all-importan( in community life both a÷e 6bilged to see that the communit~y d6~s no~ suffer because of their mutual e~strarigement policy. If they are members of a:small community it'i~'pr~adtlC~H~ im'posbible for them to cairy 'out their program without catising~'much embarrassment~ and inconveni-ence to the other members of the community. Finally, both are obliged to see that their mutual coldness "gives no scandal to externs. People naturally and" justifiably expect to see religious live together in harmony and, if they-no~ice a lack of harmony, their esteem of the religious life is considerabl.y lowered. Suppose that all the evils just mentioned ~ould be avoided, would the mutual estrangement policy still' ~be sinful? The answer is not clear to me. However, even if such a situation is not sinful, it is at most "tolerable" that is, it could be tolerated .as a means of avoiding greater evils that might, result from the mutual association of two ire'mature chabacters. That "the situatioh is not ideal, and that 'it is~ at variance with the spirit of Christ, seems, quite clear. Moreover,~"th~ anomaly of the"situation becomes even more glaring mwohse'ntc ohna.er m~ionngs icdoeurrste hsyo wto othftoesne bwuhsoimne tshse m~ ednis laikned. w'Tohmis esne eemxste.n tdo tbhe~ one case in which the. children of this world are wiser than the chil-dren of light; the former can do for mere worldly gain ~hat the latter will not do for the love of Christ. ~What has bee.n, said about mutual estrangement among religious is equally ,applicable to similar situations among families or among othe_r groups living ,in common. And it should be remembered~that the smaller the group and the more closely the lives touch one 309 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious another, the more dif[icult, it is to justify the mutual es.trangement policy. We are now in a position to sum up the doctrine concerning the duty~ of showing the common signs of benevolence.~ The ordinary rule is that these courtesies must be extended even to enemies because, being common signs, they simply express externally our recognition of a bond which unites the group and all the members of the group. In other words, they are extended to others as fellow-men, fellow-citizens, fellow-religious, and so forth. To omit such courtesies without~good reason is usually a manifestation of ill will, of a lack of forgiveness, and even a sign of contempt; and because of these things, the omission of the courtesies readily wounds the feelings of the enemy and is a source og scandal to others. However, t.hey may (and occasionally should) be omitted at least for a time, for some greater good .(such as the correction of an offender and the safe-guarding of public discipline oro private rights), and also to avoid some greater evil (such as renewed quarreling). Reconciliation The duties thus far considered refer to an enemy even in the wide sense: that is, to one who has given no offense, but who is disliked. The duty of reconciliation supposes that there has been a quarrel; hence the term "enemy" is here used in its strictest sense, namely, as one who has given offense. Each party to a quarrel is obliged to do his part to bring about a ~econciliation. The offender (that is, the one who started the quarrel) mu~t take the first step. As soon as h~ tan reasonably do so, he must in some appropriate way express that he is sorry and that he is willing to make amends. A formal apology is not always neces-sary; in fadt, it is frequently a source of embarrassment to both parties. It is often best to indicate in some indirect way that one i~ sorry. The offended party is obliged to accept the apology or its reasonable equivalent and to show that he has forgiven the offense and that~ he bears no ill will towards the offender. Such are the basic duties of offender and offended. The fol-lowing annotations may help to clarify them. Some people say, "I forgive, but I cannot forget." Perhaps they mean that they have been so deeply wounded that the thoughts of the dffense keep welling up in their mind and bring with them feelings of.rancor. As I have already pointed out, such thoughts are 31.0 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR" no indication Of ~in; and therefore the}" do not indicate a"lack Of forgiveness. However, sdr~etim'es this expression "I tannot forget" really m~an~ "I ~vill not forget," and it indicates that there is still some deliberate ill will towards the offender. Others say, "I don't wish i11. to my offender, but I certainly clri't wish him wel~?' ThiL df course, is nonsense; for the well-wishifig of trde~ch~rity is deliberate sup~erna~ural well-wishing, the oobject of'which is the true supernatural good of the neighbor. Such well-wislii'i~g is not"impossible' for anyone. "And any one who is unwilling to cultivate such good will.has not really forgiven his offender: Foi~giveness of an offense does not mean the waiving of the right to rep~irati0n for harm don~.' If an o~ffen~h has harmed n~y reputa-tioia° or caused me property loss, I ah~ not ~nforgiving merely because I insist that the harm to reputation or proRerty be repaired. Al~o, forgiveness is compatible withr insistence on a just punishment for an offense; for even God inflicts 'punishments after~ having forgiven an offense. However, when human beings insist on punishment after exiaressing forgiveness, theymust remember that they are not °God and that their motives migh~t be suspect. For instance, if a fellow-religious offends me and then sincerely expresses his sorrow, and I still insist on revealing the matter to, the superior so that my offender may be ~unished, it is quite likely that my forgiveness is not whole-hearted. The foregoing observations indicate, at least in a vague sort oL way, what forgiveness is not. But what is it? Real forgiveness seems, to reduce itself to this: a sincere wil.lingness to restore the bond that existed before the quarrel, insofar as that is reasonably possible. But what if the bond was an ~ntimate friendship? Moralists usually say that there is no strigt obligation for the offended party to re-admit his offender t6 such intimacy. They say that since intimate friend-ship is s.omething to which no one has a claim, the restoration of such friendship can hardly be urged as an obligation. The strittoobliga-, tion, therefore, is usually satisfied when the offender is given those' marks of charity that have previously been described as common. The statement that forgiveness does not demand the re-establish-ment of an i~itimate friendship can be misleading. It seems to me that each case must be judged according to its own circumstances; and certainly there are occasions when the refusal to re-establish an GERALD KELLY intimate friendship after one quarrel (and perhaps a trifling one) is unreasonable, as' well as un-Christlike. However, if even a trifling quarrel is sufficient to undermine the confidence of the offended party in his offending friend, perhaps it is just as well that the friendship cease. When should .the first step towards reconciliation be taken? Moralists wisely suggest that it is generally expecting too much of an offended person to ask him to be reconciled immediately after a quarrel. He is entitled to a "cooling off" period. Normally this need riot be long; but the offender is justified in postponing his expression of sorrow until what seems to be an opportune time. In many quarrels it is difficult to determine who was the first offender; both exploded more or less simt~Itaneously. Theologians solve this one by saying that the one who committed the more serious offense has the duty of taking the first step towards recon-ciliation. However, it must be admitted that this rule is also hard to apply~becau~e, at least in the eyes of the participants of thequarrel, the Other party seems generally the more guilty. As a matter of fact, daily experience sliows us that no sit of merely mechanical rules concerning the duties of offender and offended is perfectly s.atisfactory. The only really satisfactory solu-tion to the difficulties that follow upon quarrels is that each party should be willing to take the initiative in reconciliation. After all, most of the difficulty for both parties is embarrassment. Frequently both want to make up, yet each is afraid to take the first step; and unfortunateIy this mutual embarrassment can lead to long and pain-ful estrangements that could have been settled in a moment by a Christlike attitude and a sense of humor. And I believe we can conclude this article on the same note. In the body of the article, I have outlined the duties of loving the neighbor. It is well for everyone to know these and fulfill them. But it is also well to note that the~e state a minimum. The Chris-tian ideal, which is certainly the religious ideal, is to strive each day for perfect fulfilment of Our Lord's words: "Love one another as I have loved you." 312 The-Docl:rine ot: John oJ: :he Cross J. E. Breunig, S.J. ASHORT TIME after St. Teresa met the two men who .were to found the Order of Discalced Carmelites,,,~he descriptively announced to the nuns during recreation:Ihave found a monk and a half." The half-monk was John of the Cross, just five-feet- two in his sandals. On another occasion she wrote of him in a letter: "'El cbicO is small in stature but he is great in God's ~yes." The little Carmelite lived in Spain during the last half of the sixteenth century. In spite of his physical limitations he made a success of his life. He was canonized by Benedict XIII in 172'6 ~hd"twb cen~turi~s la~er in 1926 Plus XI declared him a Doctor of the Universal Church. By conferring her doctorate on St. John, all of whose works are on mystical theology, the Church not only shows her esteem for mystical studies and puts her stamp of approval on the saint's works, but also points to the cultivation of the supernatural as a remedy against excessive naturalism. The recent, doctor's cap makes John a saint of our own day, while the title, Doctor Of the Universal Church, seems to indicate that his doctrine is not just for his Carmelite breth-ren (and sisters) but for the world. To appreciate the elevation of mystical theology w.e might com-pare it with philosophy and dogmatic theology. With reason alone man can arrived at natural wisdom. With reason and faith he can advance worlds beyond to theological wisdom. With faith and the divine operations of God within the soul, man can attain mystical wisdom, a knowledge different in kind and immeasurably higher in degree. As Aristotle is surpassed by Aquinas, St, Thomas Aquinas in his writings is, in a way, eclipsed by. St. 2ohn 6f the Cross. We might pause here to recall that the mystical life is a super-natural state above the ordinary life of faith and below the beatific vision. Since mystery is inseparable from~'~the supernatural;~ the wonder is not that the mystical life is fraught with mystery. The wonder is rather that~the genius of John of the Cross is able to pene-trate into the deep things of God and trace for us the divine action in the generous soul almost from the time of the infusion of sanctifying 313 ¯ J. E. BREUNIG Reoieto for RUi~lions grace until it reaches~ the highest state possible to man, the trans- 'forming umon,,:a ~half-step from the beattfic umon. Two qualifications-psepared John for his delicate analysis and d~cription of"th~:div'i~e~perai'ions. He was a teacher and he was a m~ ystkc. As a teacher he possessed that mark of genius that Aristotle calls' thd "~iftg6f metaphor." In other words, he knew how to explain. There is hardly a page in his ~writings that is not illumined by. an~ apt ,dlustrat~on that ~bnngs,out. the heart of the. matter. As a mysti6he practiced and experienced what he taught. Enduring trials and humdlatmns, 2ofin lieed an~,intense life of prayer, self-denial, add hard work. In return, God raised him to higher states of prayer, where after more interior suffering he attained the highest union. 'He climbed every inch of the bare rock of Mt. Carmel before he wrote. He experienced the dark night of the soul and the living flame of love before he described-them. ~t is one thing to have a taste'for great literature, quite another to undhrstand what makes it great, and still a third to write great litera-ture. According to St. Teresa, there is a similar threefold gift in mysticism. To be raised to a higher form of prayeris'~0ne gift. To understand the delicate divine movements is another, while a third and greater gift is the ability to describe these states of soul. Like Teresa, St. :John of 'the "Cross possessed all three gifts in a high de~rde.~ Besides, he was able:to express his thought~ ,in'language tha~ does not blush when placed among the masterpieces of Spgin's Golden Age. " "John ~6f th~ Cros~ ~trace§~ the "cou~e of the' divin~-~3i~erations Within the soul, describing the growth of the marvelous friendship between the soul and God. He does this in four books which together equal less than a thousand pages. Briefly, the books treat of the summits of love and of, the' path that leads there. Two books, The Ascent of Mount Carmel and The Dark Nigl~t oF the Soul; point out the path. The other two, The Spiritual Canticle and The Livin9 Flame o~ Love, describe the summit. In reality, all four bobkd develop a single theme. The books that tell of the via ad, such as The ,Ascent, briefly but explicitly describe the summit, the terminus. On the other hand, The Livin~j Flame, while speaking, primarily of ¯ the~ terminus,-repeats the lessons of the via ad. John has ~/ single theme: complete union with God ,is the fruit of absolute renunciation of self. ~ "He that loses his life shall save it." In his own words: "I(i's irripossible, if the soul does as much as in it 314 November° 1948 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS . lies, that,God should fail to.perform His o~n part by communicating Himself to the soul. It is more impossible than that'the sun should fail to shine in a serene and uncloudeff sky: for as the sun when it rises in th~ morning will enteroyour house if you open the shutter, even so ;~ill God~ Who sleeps n6vin keeping Islael, still less slumbers, enter the soul that is empty and fill it with Divine blessings. God, like the sun, is above our souls and.ready to dommunicate Himsel~ to thdm." (E. A. Pee~s, The'Works of St. John of, the Cross, III, 185.7 'Generally; th~ highest point-in a region willq~ive the best view of the'.surroundings. Similarly, perhaps, we can obtain "the best view of the doctrine of St, John.if.we:see the summit of Mount Carmel before w'e look at the rocky road that' leads there. In other words, we will first look where 2ohn is leading before-0~ve see how he leads~ The final:goal which the Mys[ical Doctor bf the Church ~roposes is nothing less th~an ~ transforming uhion°of,the soul'with~God. As he himself salts:. '~if the soul. attain to ~he'~last~ ~tegree,"the 16ve of God~ will succeed in wounding the sdul even in its: remotest "and deepest centre that~is, in transfor'ming and enlightening'it as regards all its being and power affd virtue, such as it is capable' of receiving, until .it be brought into such a state that it appears to be God:" (Works, III, 124.) In a ~passage~ where we seem to catch the heart,beat of God John describes the same union more at length: "As each living crea- , ~ ture lives by its operation, the soul, having its operations ~n God, through the union'it has with God, lives the life of God, and thus ¯ its death has been changed into life. For.the understanding, which bdfore this union°understood in a fiatural way with the stren.gth and vigour of its natural~light, by means of the bodily senses, is now .movedand informed-by another and. a higher principle, that of the supernatu.ral light og God, and, the senses having l~een set aside, it has thus'been changed into the Divine, for through union~its under-standing and that 6f God are now both one. And the will which' b~fore loved with its natural affection, has now been Changed in~tb "the life of Divine love; for it loves after a lofty manner with~Divihe aff~ction~-~hd is moved b,y 'the powers'and str.ength of the Holy Spirit: in whom it now li~,es the life o~ love, since, through this union, its will and His will ~ire now only one." (Works, III, 1~5.7~8:) In this high state the soul becomes aware of it~'sharing in the divine nature, the shaii~ag that it first received at the infusion of sanctifying grace. -"The flame of love is the Spirit of 'its Spouse--~' that is; the Holy Spirit. And this flame the souI.feels within it, not only as a fire that has consumed and transformed it in sweet Io,ie, but also as a fire which burns within it and sends out flame, ,:i'nd ,that flame, eacbxime that it breaks into flame, bathes ,the soul: in glory-and refreshes it with tile temper of Divine life.". (Works,~III, 1190 It seems that mystics, in some way, experience, and verify the truths we learn,in dogma, and hold by faith. In the transforming union the soul sees" in God~ all the divine attributes. "WhenHe is united to ,the soul and He is then pleased to reveal knowledge to i~, it is able to see in Him all these' virtues and grandeurs distinctly---~namely, omnipotence; wisdom and goodness, mercy and soforth., each of these attributes is a"lamp~,which gives lightxo the soul and gives it also,the heat of 10re." (Ibid., 163.) Fur-ther, 7The soul is able to see how all creatures above and below, have their life and strength and,duration in Him. And this,is, thergreat delight.of xhis awakening: to know: creatures through,Godsend riot° God through creatures.'; (Ibid., 209.) St. John sumsul5 this state: '~The_unders~tanding of the soul is now: the .understanding~of God: and its will is the will of God; and its memory is the memory of God; and its delight is the delight of God; and the Substance °of the soul, although it is not the Substance of God is nevertheless united 'and "absorbed in Him and is thus God by. participation in God, which cq.m. e,s to, pass in this perfect state of the spiritual life, .although not so perfectly as in the next life." (Ibid., 159.) - , The union in.this sublime state is~ twofol~d:~ moral and, psycho-l? gical. The~oral union is the almost pe.rfect c~onformioty ofthe human will to the divine. The psycholgg!c~al ,Enion means that the ppwers of the soul, the mind and will, ~act.in.a specific.a!ly different, s.uperhuman manner. According to St. John~ they a~ct divinely. In spite of the closeness of the union:, the Carme[ite Doctor. is always, careful to note tha~ the human and, div~ine:art distinct. He tries to s.how this in tl~e following comp, atisp~:; "He. that.: ~s:" joined" " the Lord is made one spirit with Him;.even~.,asowh'en the light of.the star,or of th~ ~n~dle is joined an.~ united with, that~of:he sun, sootha_t that which shines is not the star or the candle but th_e sun: ~which, has absorbed the other lights in itsel'~" (Work~, .II., 308):~ We would expect the road to such a loftyheight to be steep and rocky. And it i~.We sav~ that in the very highest union there were still two separate principle.s, God and the soul. The same is true for tile journey to the oheigh~s. As on the summit, so in theoascent God's . 3~16 November, 1948 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS action predominates; but the soul must co-bperat¢ at every step. Pre-supposing this, we can say that John of the Cro~s proposes two means togrow, inGod: absolute mortification and the contemplation of the dark night of the soul. Doctor o/: Nothing The Carmelite Doctor insists on absolute mortification, a total war on self. "The soul must be stripped of all things created, and of its own actions and abilities namely, of its understariding, liking and feeling so that, when all that is unlike God and unconformed to Him is cast out, the soul may receive the likeness of God: and nothing will then remain in it that is not the will of God and it will be transformed in God" (Works, I, 80). The classic expression of John's extreme stand is contained in the following maxims from The Ascent of Moun.t Carmel in a passage which has com~ to be called "The Canticle of the Absolute." Strive always to choose, no'~ that which is easiest, but th,at.~hich is:most difficult; ~,~ . . Not that which gives mo~t pleasure, but rather that which gives least;, .,~ ~ N~t that, which is restful, but that which is wearisome; In "order, to, arrive at having pleasure in everything, Desire to have pleasure in nothing." In,order to arrive ~t possessing everything, Desire to possess nothing. In order to arrive at,knowing ,everything,- , Desire to,knowj nothing . There are three pages of insttuctiorts s~mil~t to these (Worlts~ I, 60-63). Is it surprising that many of his .fellow Spaniards called him Doctor de, la Nada, Docf0r of Nothing? Doctor o: the Dark Night John of the Cross is also called the Doctor iof the Dar~ Night. Unfqr.tgnat.ely,.this title gives the impression~ that his dQc~tti.ne is negative. Darkness and night are not attractive words.' On the other hand, the. title, is appropriate if we take it as representing,~is most distinctive contribution to my:stical theology, There have been other doctors of.nothing. In fact, weighty tomes on mortification .are stacked high. On the other side, volumes which relate the glories of the transforming union fill the cases. 317 J. E., BREUNIG . .7 t~eoieuJ, for R~ligious However,, the. shelf devoted to the'bi[ter affd painful, side df.themys-tical life is practically empty. " ' -~ ,~ :":°.~ ~: " ;~Jbhn Ventured into this ~'~icharted 'sea, this nwman s land: ~(Per~ haps, "No God's Land" might be a bett&'.description ofothis 15eri6d.) In this particular work are revealed in a .special manner the saint's rare talents: "the precisi0n'6f hi~ psycho10gical analysis, the revealing ¯ nature" of his" cdmp~irisons, the penetration Whdr'ewi~h Be can" recog-raze t'he, w~rk of ,divine .grace developing beneath, th'( mahtler0f. :th~ m6st ~v~ned experiences ~(Fath~f~Gabri~l',bf Saint Mary M.agd.afe~', St~"Jdl~onf. th"e C~ ro"~ss , 4 ",4).- '" °' ,~ '~' best~ treatment '6f~-the dar~ nig.h{'is 4i3und"in~hi~ bool{ 6~ th{:s~fne name. Tl% darl~ night" of the s6fil is" a'sta~ o~ irifus&l' templation, aohn calls it a da~k 'nig.tjt l~'ecause, 7~aiad6xit~lly,?th{' {~hscer~d~nee'of the' idfuse~dF light blinds the unde~standi'rig.~" :'The s6"ul is lik an oivl' ih sunlight.' 'Further, this state 'is painful' the understanding ,s msufficlently~&spo{ed to re&ire Such is the general idea. John distinguishes t~6~':0~i6ds~ 'th~ night ~f" the S~n~es~ followed by a. period of ¢on~ol~tidn', an~basis;~an~ the night of t~e spirit. According to the Mystical Doctor, the nigh~ of the senses-is commonly reached by most ~souls ~who~ g~Te, themselves generously to a life of-prayer. The n~ght of the which precedes the transforming, union, is reached by fe~.~ ~. ;~ The night of the senses is"primaiily a period ~faridit~'ind~ced, not by any carelessness, but by the direct, a~fion of God.~ ~hd~ the soul gives itself generously, to prayer, it ;frequenfly~experlences sen-sible consolation. Even after this consolation ceases,Athe soul~con-tinues .t6:meditate witfi a certain,success, : Then gradunlly theFsoul ho' lon(er finds any~sa~isfactionin meditatio~-but,~ on'the contrary, finds it strangely impossible ,t6 meditate, T~e soul iscpu~zled, anxious. Through no fault of its own, it seems abandoned by God. The soul might well ~dhsider ~tself m No G3~'s Land. St. John's ge~i~ r&ognized ~hi~ state '~and~ gave all ~future spiri~ffaP dire&3~ and theol3~iafis three s"~gn~s b'y which t~eyc"o u'l d r e'c o"gmze~ thd samd: '" Th~ fir~ sign-isgh (ertaifl ,~istast~, f~f G6d arid' for'creatures~as wd112: ~The a6ul find~ it~ di$cu1~to~ugyqtself:'~bdfit G~di~t~a~ th( same time .it has ~& t~ste "f6~'&reature~ d6~f6~s~' This si~n~d~stin'~ guisbe~ "divihe~ aridity''~ from aridit~ause~ bf-Unfaithfulhdis~ for the sdul d&S no~ desire to seek itl consolation in ordinary p1~asut~s. This is ~ cl~r sigfi;~for God does not ~rmit the s0ul'he is ieadihg tb 318 Noverabe~o 1948 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JOHN OF'THE CROSS higher' prayer fo;be .drawn.-aside'by,any.thing l~ss than~Himself:. Its. The second sign~,Tthe anxiet~r about servifig God,,di~tin~uishes thi~ state from -liiKewarmness; ffor;, by thd very definition, the 16kewarm are not. particulfirlW concerned about affer¢en t service of God: Inability to meditate, th~ 'third sign, tends to increase; anff, it can be distinguished b~. that fa(t from an~ inability that mighf ~bd caused by ill health and the like. St. 2ohn accounts for this:strange inability, to meditate. ~ In this'~tate og "divine aridity" God no longe/ c6mmunicates Himself through 'the.channels of sense or in consecu-tive reflectiohs but in pure spirit;.ahd pure spirif by its very nature has~ nbthing to~do ~it~ the~c6m~ar~tively gross actiohs' of "the imagination,ahd r~asdn.~ 2ohn thfis,shows,us fhat God is very mucfi present iff What ~as considered a,]and without Grid. ¢ In his book, The ~pirit~al ~L[~ (6~4),~ Ta~q~erey gives an'~ comments 6n'St['~J~hn's'ad~i~e"f6i'~ ~6ul qfi th~ dark hight: . ~or if a ma~ while sit'tifnogr~,,'h "~'s "p'o~rt'r"ai t. .c.a.:n' n~ot ~be s,till but: mov~ about, ~he [painte~ will.never de~i~ his face; 'and "eveff the. work already doh'e';wiil'b~spoiled)~ 'Ifi the sam~ way when "the i~(eriorly'fests, ~very actioh and, ~ssion~'~o~ ~.xious c6nsid~ration at .that~time will distract and .~is~u~b it;'~ ~so who,'God ~ntg fO i~p~int H~s li~ness uthpeotrn s o¯u ~ls ;' a -ffd s~us~p .e.n.d.s. the acnwty of [heir¯ f~ulti~s, tfiey have b~t ¢t6~ ab~de '.i~d~d,.~nd~ ~thf6d~h'~.~hi~ peat~"the gpifit 0f lo~(~ will flare~,up "arid "burn more brightly ~thm them. :~Tfiis'sf~te~of~ repose ~is by ~a~ m~ns 6he of ina~ti0n: if.is rat~e~'~ different":~kind','of.occupanon," ":"" ~. .W.hi~fi excludes: ' "sloth"~ '" l~nguor~" ,T~e~ mus~ therefd~e:~l';flistractibns, ~hd i~'in'ofder't~ o so they mffst:r~turn tb cofi~deranofis, let t~em not hemtate; pro~ ~ided~ th~ ~cah acc6~plis~, this "Withofit violeft ffOrts." : ' . A~otding, t~ John/6~ ~fi~" Ct6~g.:ihe:~ight o~ th~ ~eh~e~ ~e~e~ail~ lasts'a long'ti~.'" It varies wit~eadH ~dul. ~'St~ T~r~sa i~ Sai~f6 beeh in the d~rk'night, of t~,soM 'e~h~h yiars:St-),Fr~hc~s fff Asiiii/ -two ~yefirs~:T ' h.~.s. .num- .b.e.r. .s.eemst ,t.o ,-include fi~tht~e .~ m "g"'ht'of t~e senses'and o~,the s itif~¢ ~"-.' ~"~; ' ~ " '~r~.The ~hi~ht~ of t~ Spirit 'ii a pfir~atory on earth. ~Agam~"there s~emsto b~'n6Gdd fdr th~ a~icted's0fil. ,Much ~f ~he pain ~esfilts from ~he ver~ li~t bf contemplation. The soul" becomes aware~of how absolutely traHscend~t God" i~. ~ ':Sdzed by a profouffd zation of qts e~tieme '~iritual~ b6v~ity, the' souF is aw~r~ '0f' impression of ~nsurmounta~le sadness, or even of a temptation ~to despair. How could' G6~ lov~ a creature so vile, so abject] Th'~ J. E. BREUNIG " : soul suffers indescribable, torture:-there are moments When its laments become~ real cries of.angu sh. (Gabriel;.op: ¯ - God'~ action ~it~ this time is~compared to fire." ~",Tl~e purgative and loving knowledge or Divine light acts' upon the soul, in the same way as fire acts upon a log of wood in order to transform° it into itself: for m~ter.iaF fire, first of all begins to dry it, ,by driving out the moisture and causing it to shed th~ whter it co'ntains. Then it 10egins to make it black, dark and-unsightly, and, astir dries it little by little, it brings out and drives aw~r all~the dark and, unsightly accidents~which are c6ntrary to the nature of fire; 'Finall)~, it begins to kiiadle it.externally afido'give~it heat ~ind" at last~transforins it into itself and makes it as beautiful as fire." (~Works, I, 429:) "Ought not Christ to have suffered?" St. 5ohn~explains that this intense suffering results entir.ely from love. God purifies the soul in order tot raise it to the closest union with' Himself . A glo-rious Easter morning follows the dark night of Good Friday., We see St. 2ohn is a ,Doctor of Nothing and a Doctor of. the Dark Night only because he isfundamentally the Doctor,of Divine Love. Again, we are.on the lofty sgmmit~,gf Carmel, for the state c~ the transformi~ng union follows on the dark night. As we .look back, we see that the road has been rugged. In fact, the sheer cliff 9f Car-me1 is humanly unassailable. However, we saw that when the soul strips itself of self, when the soul drags itself up by means 0f ordinary p.ray~er an~ selg-deniaI, the Divine :.Guide~ takes its hand and with. i.nfused prayer leads the~ soul throug.h the arid land of the night'of the senses, then through the pur~i,fying fires of the night 9f the spirit until .together the peaks of pe~rfect~0n and love are reached. We conclude with a passage~.of sunshine from the little Doctor of the Universal Church. "The Father of" Lights, whose arm is not shortene~dl.but stretched out.~idely, without res, pect of persons, where-e~ cer it finds rogm, likd~th,e r~ay of the s,u.n . . . is greatly pleased to share His delights with the children of ~e.n on earth~ - No, ,it is not to be held a thing incredible that in a soul already cleansed, tried in the ,fur~nace of tribulations, of labors, and of divers temptations, and ~ound faithful in love, there will be fulfilled here below those .words wher.eby the Son of God promised that if,any man love Him the Most Hgly Trinity would come and abide in him,: ~that is to say, divinely~.enlightening ~is .understanding in the .wisdom of the Son, ddighting.~his will in the Holy Spirit whilst the Father absorbs him mightil¢ in the abyss of His sweetness." (Gabriel, op. cit, 19.) 320 May a super,oress use fh~ int~rest~ 6f dowries-and-legacies belofig;~ng to the Sisters for commumty purposes o'r for educational projects? After the first profession, the d~wry is to be invested in a man-ner that is safe, lawful, and prqductive according to canon 549. The revenue coming from the invested dowry can be devoted to the sup-pbff of the community or to the education of the Sisters. The.Code does not liinit the use of the revenue. Strictly speaking, the dowry can be invested even before the profession of a Sister, but on!~l°with her consent. In this case the institute could also use the, r~venue for. the good of the community. T'hi~ Subject is treated thor0ughly bs; Schaefer, De Religiosis, n6: 229. F~ther Ellis has also treated the Canons on the dowry in Vol. III, pp, 224 ff. of this REVIEW. Legacies usually ~i~hei" cofistitute a Si, ster'soproperty or are added to it. The disposition of the revenu~ of-l~acies therefore, will be regulatedb~" canon' 569,~,§ § ,1 aiad 2.- The beneficiary of the revenue is-freely indicated'~by fla~,religious @ho makes the cession of her property, the appointment of an administrator, arid the'~assignment of ,the revenue. If" the' Sister l~efore her first profession, m~ke~ the institute~the beneficiary of the revenue, then. of course, ~uperiors may use,it for the good of the-institfite. Educational prbjects~would undoubtedly be included. Is the following case ;n conform;h/with common life? Sister J. ;s g;gen permisson to travel for recreational purposes~be~ause her relafive~ are supplying her the necessary funds. If in a given community lawful custom permits travel as a form of relaxation, permission for such trips should not be contingent upon the economic status of the relfitives of the religious wh6' ~sks for such a permission. Common life calls for equality in these iiaat-ters. While such a partial way of acting may contributd to the balancing of the budget, it also makes a mockery of common life. The Code ;n canon 504 prescribes the age of forty'for superiors gen- 32[ eral and the age of thirty for other major superiors. Is there an age at which su, per!ors mustretire from office? The Code makes no provision for a retirement age for superiors. The ills attendant upon age come to some sooner, to others later. Infirmity due to age willdoubt]es~ l~ompt~the true religious to resign fron~ airy office w'hicl~: J~e considers l~yond~,~his physic~ or'menta! capacity. Would you kindly enlighten us on the following polnt~s 'concerning ~h~ ~'~cltafibn if fh~ rosary? I.'To" gain the in_dulgences attached to the recitation of .the rosary, i-~ it~necessary to recite the Creed. the Our'lFather, and the fhr~ee Hail Ma~rys before'begignlng the five decades? 2~ Must the mystery be mentioned-before the recitation of each decade? " 3. If the rosary is recited twice (i.e. I0 decades) 9n agiven day, what mysteries are~to be meditated upon? ¯ . 4. Where can I find some information 9n~he~recitatlon of the rosary? ° 1. Th~ rosary in its strlct~st sense cbnsists of the Our Fatl~er and ten Hail Marys recited fifteen times, or five times if one is reciting only a third part of the rosary. The, Glory be to the Father etc., were added some, time after the rosary,had been in usal~e among the faith-ful. Hence, the recitation.of the Creed, the Our Father, and'the three Hail Mar~s are not necessary to gain the indulgences attached fo the recitation of the rosary. 2. There is no necessity to-. mention the mystery before each decade;" -~:. 3; If, for,,example, on a Sunday after Pentecost, two-thirds 6f the entire rosary (or ten decades) were recited, the sequence of the mysteries should be .followed so that the.glorious mysteries, should be recited last: The other five decades, whether commemorating the jo,yful or the sorrowful mysSeri.es, should precede"the glorious mys-te, rjes~ . 4. Among other sources of information on'the rosary, we recommend an article by Father Ellis, "Our Lady's Rosary,~' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V, 324. A Rosary Project, published by the Queen's Work, .likewise gives much valuable information concerning the recitatioa of~the rosary. 322 ommun ¢a ons Reveren'd Fathers." In the September REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, there is a communica~ t~on~ from "Old-fashioned'i' '~hat' should give us all 'thought ~r meditation. The only' s~tatement in the communication with which I take issue is the one that states that "worldliness is 'creeping~ .into the religious life." It ib not merely "creeping" in; it is already there, and there with a bang. Are. we goingl to treat it as we do, the weather? Every6ne talking about it; no one doing anything abouf it. Are there no courageous leaders in any of our communities? A good strong ~religious govern-ment could work wonders; one that is not afraid to act according to' its convictions. What will it profit to have a large progressive com-munity~ to have leaders in every field of activity, if the members are not attaining the purpose for which they 'entered religion--the glory of God, the salvation of their own souls. ' ~ Would it not be far better, regardless:of the nee~ for Sisters in our schools and hosl~it'~Is~" if we ~had still fewer but bette~r religious? What will it avail to have a' million worldly nuns, if by their very worldliness they are defeating the purpose for which the rel~igious life was established? ' If we can do nothing else, let us ~ray to the:Holy Spirit, that He may raise up some modern Teresas of Avila, who will have the courage to say to those who oppose them, as our Divine Lord said long ago to some of His followers, those who found His saying hard, "Will you also go away?" And we know that some did .go away and walked no more with Him. Would it not be better ~o have the faithful few really walking with Chroist, and working and .fighting for Him, than to have a million or more walking on the broad road that leads to dkstruction ?---A PROVINCIAL. Reverend Fathers: From my own ~ad experience, I know something about worldli-ness. It is a spirit opposed to the spirit of Christ. A religious "may become infected in various ways: by too great absorption in external occupations; by wasting time with seculars; by unnecessary corre-spondence; by uncalled for exemptions from Holy Rule; by morbid interest in secular reading and programs; by inordinate attachments 323 BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious to persons, places, and things. A worldly religious who loves and uses the world inordinately will find prete*l~S for shortening or missing her prayers and spiritual. exercises, and that without regret. She will find satisfactibn in the .company of seculars, seeking their applause and delighting in their flatteries. She may even sacrifice principles or points of. Holy Rule in order to curry the favor of the rich and influential for purposes of ~mbiti0n or worldly pleasures.She will find little or no time for spiritual reading, but claims she must read secular matter in order to keep abreast of the times. After listening to a conversation of a certain religious, an elderl7 gentleman remarked, "I didn't think that Sisters were so well-informed on such matters." A worldly religious does not enjoy the peace and contentment of convent life. The warnings of well-meaning companion ~ Sisters are ignored, and the corrections of kind and vigilant superiors are resented. She becomes disgusted and dissatisfied, and blames others for her" unhappiness. Can worldliness be cured? In my case, I was removed from the place to which I was so much attached. At the new mission, a reli-gious priest came to help out for some time. In confession he set me right in prayer. After a short but intensive prayer-fife, I fell in love witl'J God again; and then worldly attractions gave Way to the soul-satisfying joys of the spirit.TEACHING SISTER. Book Revie ,s EXILE ENDS IN ~LORY: The I.~e of ~ Tr~ppisfine. By Thomas Medon. Pp. '~i~ q-~'31 ~. The Bruce Publ~sh~ncj Company, Milw~aukee,:' 1948. $3.75. During her lifetime complete obscurity cloaked the activities of Mother Berchmans; and, but for her biographer, she would still be unkflowri save to the few Trappistine nuns~ who visit her grave in Hakodate, Japan, Put in a convent orphanage at three and a half years of age, she lived entirely apart from the world save for a year or two as a young woman after her graduation from. the orphanage school. Even within the convent her life was one without incident. 324 November, 1948 BOOK,REvIEWS Her entrance into the Trappistine convent at Laval, and ~her subse-quent journey to help the~st~ruggling foundation in Japan are_ the s01e "events" in her short life. 'She died"in 19,15 at 38.-years of age.° But lack of outward incident does nov leave her life story de~ioid of interest. From the record of her interior life drawn from her let~ ters and ~oersbnal papers,,and from the testimony of ~her, confessor- and religious acquaintances,~ it is clea~ that hers was~a life Of exalted sanc-tity:~ of sanctity, however, with nothing ~singular about it exter-nally. ,No ektraor'dinary phenomena nor dramatic suffering singled her out from her sisters in the convent. Her cross was her voluntary exile-from,her native Franceand the beloved convent at Laval. "She was to suffer," writes~,her biographer, "the ordinary, obscure, puri-fying trials of work and desolation and sickness which are the, com-mon lot of alFrelig~ous, more or less: but'~she was to suffer them with an extraordinary degree, of trust and loire and abandonment." ~ Thomas Merton, recognized poe~t hnd student of English litera-ture, brin~Os to the writing:of this biography no mean background no~ meager'talents. Himself~a,,~Trappist monk since 1941, he is prepared to "deal understandingly and sympathetically with his .subject. SOULS AT STAKE: "By Frar~cis J. Ripley and F. S. Mitchell. Pp. xl -k 198. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., New York, 1948. Though written by a~i~t~fidh, layman whose paramount interest is the Legion of Ma~y, this bpgk~i.s not limited in its scope to that laudable form of the l~iy~postolate. It is a book about Catholic Action in general, ,~and the authors explicjtly:s~ate their, belief .tha.t the success ~ofiCatholic Action depends on a multiplic.ity of lay.organ_iza.~ tions,~ even though.the purposes ofs0me of these m.ay overlap. no space is devoted specifically to an exposition of the Legion of.Mar~y The first chapterqs a vivid portrayal of a 16art o~ the. meditation on the T.wo Standards. The devil~is surrounded by his represerita~- rives fr'om various mOdern~ countries, and he*tells.each °on~ what must be done in his country to further the satanic aims. 'The authors then give ~.a brief account of the political, social, educational, cultural;._and religious collapse of the present age. Part of the blame for these 'lamentable-modern conditions must be placed onthe apath~ of~ lay Th~ basic principl~s for any l~y organizatiofi of Cattiolic.Action 325~ BOOK N~TIeES Revieu3 [or Religious are °presented, and then expanded ,i~ siabsequent parts of the: book. The" ~uthots insist' 6n~ th( need~Of personal tontac~-to w~n They:issfie,~dive~se cautio~s. ~O~n~of these .has ~tO dd wit~, bver-idsistence ~n knowledge and orbed'purely natural endowments m the Ia¢, apostle.~ Another~ecti~s"themo~etn tendency to overemphasize " the sodaF apostolate. '~" YeUanotBer~caIis:; attention ~o, the failure~ of out Ca~h01ic schools to p~o'duce zealous,,gtaduates. These ate "presented objectively a~d charitably so that they elicit self-examinati6n, not resentment. The authors believe in ~he direct teligious~appto~.ch to non,Catholics, the ~a~e method that-~as used by the apostles themselves; ahd it is di~cult to.s~e how their argu-ments for such a direct approach can be refuted. In sucha book one wsuld expect marly exaggerations. Yet the 6ook in general is well-balanded. It is most regrettable, however, that the" ~titers ma~e t~e following assertion: "The universities founded by the Religious of the Catholic Church and supposed to be the centers of culture, are soaked t~roug~ a~d through with the false ~rindples of the new materialism . " The authors would be hard put to substantiate that statemenk. Aside from this and a few other exaggerations of lesser importance, the book stays on an even keel. Priests, Brothers, Sisters, and laymen will~pro~t from it. C. R. ~CA~L~S, S.3. BOOK NOTICES RELIGIbUS,'LIFE IN. CHRIST, by. Father° Theodosius Fdley, O.F.M.Cap.~ former provincial of his order and p~sent-~uperior Of the" Mt. Alverno Retreat House in Appleton, Wisconsin, contaifis thirteen coffferences for religious. These deal with some'of the funda-mentals of religious life, such as humility, worldliness,' suffering, tepidity, spiritual-childhood, simplicity,-and~ the obligatiori of striving for i~erfection. A chapter on self-deceit reveals the author's penetrating insight into the various ways that religious can fool them-selves. ~The 150ok is pradtical rather than inspirational. It makes frequent appeals t6Our Lord's own v~0rds and example. Itsstyle is simple, clear,-concise. Few ~ords are wasted. It is a book that can be used profitably "by? religious both ~for spiritual reading and.for points for meditation. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Com-pahy/. 1948. Pp. vii.+ 163. $2.50:)~ " ¯'326 November, 1948 BOOK NOTI¢~ ~Margaret, princess of Hungary, THE KING'S HOSTAGE, is offered to God before her birth-] She remains true to her dedication, though her parents, the king and queen, try to change her mind. The sweet enchantment of GOd's calling St. Margaret to His service is told for children by E. Virginia Newell in simple storybook fashion with I~he winning interest of a fairy tale. The illustrations are by Pauline Eppink. (St, Meinrad, Indiana: The Grail, 1948. Pp. 68. $1.50.) ABOUT JESUS, a child's life of Our. Lord by C, J. Woolen, relates the story of Christ's life and .gives explanations of Catholic doctrine and moral lessons as well. Though the style is simple enough for a child to understand, the book appears repelling to read --only six black and white illustrations help brighten up the solid print. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1947. Pp. 221. $2.25.) O'Brien Atkinson, in WHAT DO You TELL THEM? develops a sixty-four-word answer to the' questi0n: Whji are 9ou a Catholic? He also treats such timely and isolasteudbj e c "ts 'as the existence of God, mixed marriages, religious tolerance, good will, ~he school question. The talks, used in actual street preaching, show how non-Catholics can be answered respectfully, briefly, and somewhat satisfact.orily. (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1948." Pp. 168.) THE WAY TO GOD, by Father Winfrid Herbst, S,D,S., is intended to serve for practical meditations during retreat, for daily. meditations, or for spiritua! reading. In a general way the first half of the book follows the "first' week" of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius; the remainder treats of various subjects, for example, The Holy Eucharist, the Passion, Our Lady. The s, tyle is designedly simple, even colloquial~ There is often a lack of orderly development of the individual chapters, but each contains good material for reflec~ tion and meditation. The author makes liberal, use of stories to drive home his point, (St. Nazianz, Wisconsin: Salvatorian Seminar% Publishing Department, 1947. Pp. iv + 299. $2.75.) ART AND FAITH contains an exchange of letters between J~cques Maritain and Jean Cocteau. The letters deal with the nattire and meaning of poetry arid with the sociological and politic~il, significance of art itself. The book contains brilliant thoughts on poetry, friend-ship, and philosophy, and shrewd estimates of contemporary French artists and writers.to interest the student of modern French litefa- ,327 BOOK NOTICES ture. (New York: The~ Philosophical Library, $2.75.) Ret~ieto /'or Religious 1948. Pp. 138., A revised and corrected edition of the well-known book, IN CHRIST JESUS, by Raoul Plus, S.$., is now available. The book explains .,the doctrine of our incorporation in Christ and its practical bearing on everyday life. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1948. Pp. xiii -k 207. $2.50.) Father William L. Doty in CATECHETICAL STORIES FOR CHIL-DREN follows the characteristic division of the Catechism into creed, code, and cult. Through the medium of the story, of dialogue, and of daily down-to-earth incidents he breathes life into the dry skele-ton of the Catechism. Certainly here is a book that will appeal to the mind and heart of a child. Religion like a soul is put into the body of a child's day, naturally, as if it belonged there. Guides of the young t~achers, parents, preachers will find this sprightly book the magic key to the wonder-world of a child. (New York: ,loseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1948. Pp. xii q- 176.) T6 the average Catholic, David is the boy who slew the giant Goliath with his sling. Of David, shepherd and ruler, poet and musician, warrior and statesman, sinner and man of God, he knows very little. Mary Fabyan Windeatt in DAVID AND HIS SONGS high- . lights for us the f~scinating story of this second king of the Jews and ancestor of Christ. Cleverly she shows how the Psalms were born of incidents that arose in David's colorful life. They were the spon-taneous cry of his soul touched by life's sweetest joys and sharpest tragedies. In these lyrical songs, evoked by God's hand from the noblest chords of David's soul, we find reflected thedifferent moods that play upon the human soul. That is why the Psalms are such favorites in the Church's liturgy. For the uninitiated, youngsters particularly, ~he book will prove an open sesame to a rich new won-derland of personal, prayerful song. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The Grail, 1948. Pp. 153. $2.00.) A hundred years ago a small group, pledged to the Thibd Order of St. Fr~incis, accompanied their pastor from Germany to Milwau-kee for the purpose of helping Bishop Martin J. Henni in his new diocese of Wisconsin. They located on land south of Milwaukee where the St. Francis seminary now stands. From this humble 328 November, i948 BOOK NOTICES beginning the Sisters of St. Francis of Assisl of Milwaukee devel-oped. A NEW AssIsI, by Sister M. Eunice Hanousek, is the story of a century's labors by these Sisters, and of their expansion into an important order of religious. Highly commendable is the fact that the author has incorporated the citation of her sources in her work, thus making it more valuable than the run of the mill jubilee publi-cations. 'If the good example set J is followed by other sisterhoods when they write similar histories, another step toward compiling an adequate Catholic history of the United States will have been accomplished. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1948. Pp. xiv + 231. $5.00.) WITH DYED GARMENTS, by a Sister of the Precious Blood, sketches the life of Mother Catherine Aurelie (Caouette). The book is a translation from the French A Canadian Mystic. The first part gives the story of the life of the~ Mother Foundress: the second part, an account of her virtues and of her reputation for sanctity. (Brook-lyn: The Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious'Blood, 1945. Pp. xif + 190. $2.50.) LIGHT OVER FATIMA, by Charles C. O'Connell, 'is a fictionalized account of the apparitions of Our Lady to the three children in 1917. A simple narrative of the events is itself so absorbing, that one won-ders why any fiction should be added. However, the book may help to introduce the message of Fatima to those people who never read anything more serious than.a novel, (Cork: The Mercier :Pres.s, 1947; and Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1948. Pp. 163. $2.50.) BROTHER TO BROTHER, by Henry Brenner, O.S.B., is an exhor-tation to fraternal charity. The book is directed especially to the laity and contains practical applications to everyday life~ (St. Mein-rad,. Indiana: The Grail, 1947. Pp. 92. $1.25.) THE COMMON PRIESTHOOD OF THE MEMBERS OF THE MYS~ TICAL BODY, by James Edward Rea, explains the Catholic doctrine of the common priesthood of the faithful. The book is divided into two parts: the first describes heretical concepts of the doctrine; the second traces the development of the true doctrine. As the author explains, he does not intend to throw new light on the ~ubject but hopes"to 329 BOOK NOTICES p'rep~re tile w~i'y for a mor~ frutiful cc~ntemplation of' the nature hnd ~ignificancd of the p~riestly dignity" of ali the' inert/bets ~6f the'one Priest:" The book was~originally published as a, docto/al dissertation by'~the Catholic University of Ain~ric~. '~ (Westminster, Maryland: The:NewmawBooksh0p, 1947. Pp. ~iii ~,~ The biography of ANNE DU RouSIER~translated from the French by L. Ke~ppe!,,,gives ftbrief but full vie~v of fhe ~_work accomplished and the successes achieved by one of the ear

Issue 50.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1991. ; Review fOl~ Religious Volume 50 Number 4 July/August 1991 P()STMAS'I'I'.'ll: Send mhh'c.~.~ chang~'s Io Rl.:Vll.:W 1.~ nt ll,.:i.i~ ;i, ~i,s; P.(). Box 6071); l)llhli h, M N 55806. .~lll~scriplioll raics: .~illglc c.py $3.51) plus lll~lililig 1991 RI.:VIEW I)avid L. Fleming, ~.l. Philip C. Fischen S.I. Michad G. I-hzrter, ~.l. Elizabeth Mcl)omm~h, 0.1: Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Edilor Asxocial~" Cammical Co.nsc/Edilor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. July/August 1991 Volume 50 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~vl~w rot R~lous; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonougb, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LOu1S, MO 63108 1-91" PRISMS. The word ordinary seems to imply the bland, the unexciting, the run-of-the- mill, the everyday. In fact, for many of us even the liturgical year of the Church suffers from being divided into two parts: the Seasons and Ordinary Time. Although liturgy properly speaks of our celebrations, we tend to find it hard to celebrate what is called ordinary. Perhaps the very distinction which the Church highlights in so dividing the liturgical year calls us to a deeper reflection upon our understanding of the ordinary. God creates the ordinary., and calls it good. It is true: the ordinary is the very substance of our world. While being itself God's cre-ation, the ordinary is also the substance with which God works. We, by being ordinary, can be touched and molded and transfigured by God. Often we try to escape from being ordinary, and in the process we shut ourselves off from being available to God's action in our lives. In the bibli-cal accounts of creation, we find the lure of an escape from the ordinary the root crisis of properly using our God-given freedom. The story of Lucifer and the fallen angels is a story of beings discontent with being ordinary. As they try to move beyond the ordinary by shutting out God, this becomes their hell. So, too, the story of Adam and Eve is a story of two people, in the freshness of human life, already desirous of escaping the ordinary--to be like gods. Sacramentally we are reminded that God continues to take the ordi-nary- water, bread and wine, oil--to make extraordinary contact with us. Even when our prayer or the spirituality we live is--try as we may---ordi-nary, we thus have the very quality which allows it to become the vehicle of God's action. The difficulty for us in accepting the ordinary is not just from an inherent human tendency to want to be noticed and praised, but also from the graced impetus to strive, to struggle, to desire to grow beyond where we are. How are we to distinguish these spirits within us, distinguish move-ments that would lead us to close ourselves off to God by our self-focus from movements whereby God is drawing us ever closer in our surrender? Our writers in this issue provide us with various approaches to a lived answer. John Wickham goes right to the heart of our reflections in the lead article by focusing on our choice of being "just ordinary." McMurray and Conroy and Kroeger turn our gaze to the whole complexus of activities 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 which make up our spirituality--how do we work at making a spirituality our "ordinary" life-source? A different question is posed by Samy and Fichtner when they ask whether the ordinary practices which we find in a spirituality which is not Christian can be an aid in our openness to God. Vest and Schwarz and Gottemoeller draw our attention to various aspects of the ordinary Christian lay life as influenced by a spirituality which is described as monastic, by a new kind of membership relation to a traditional religious congregation, or by a new responsibility within the institutions formerly identified with a particular religious order. In the midst of some of the liturgical renewal stimulated by Vatican II, the practice of a daily Eucharistic celebration has sometimes been a point of dispute, especially among those priests and religious whose congregational rule or custom clearly called for such observance. The confusion often turned on what was celebratory and what was ordinary or daily. John Huels weaves his way through various schools of thought in order to provide a group with a whole cloth of ordinary spiritual practice. Although contemplative life in its dedicated form is recognized as truly a special calling in the Church, Clifford Stevens would have us all draw some nourishment today from its age-old sources. And finally, four different writers--Navone, Monteleone, Seethaler, and Billy--lead us further along in the most common activity of human interaction with God, our attempt at praying. As portrayed in the gospels, Jesus had to spend a lot of his efforts both in his ordinary apostolic life and then again in his resurrected life to prove his ordinariness. He gets tired, he eats and drinks, he needs friends, and he takes time to pray--all ordinary activities for us humans. And yet it was in these very ordinary dealings that God is fully present to us in Jesus Christ. Perhaps the part of the Church year we call "ordinary time" is a necessary reminder to us of how God wants to work with us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" John Wickham, S.J Father John Wickham, S.J., is a member of the Upper Canada Province of the Society of Jesus. He is the author of The Common Faith and The Communal Exercises (Ignatian Centre in Montreal): His address is Ignatian Centre; 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec; Canada H4B 2A7. There is something new, I believe, about the feeling often experienced today of being "just an ordinary person." Many recurrently feel that way despite their natural gifts, highly developed skills, or honored positions. Nor do they need to deny those advantages. In contrast to what others may tend to think, or what the world expects of them, their subjective experience of themselves--what it feels like from within their own skins--is that of a worthwhile even if unfinished, rather unique and yet uncertainly striving, interesting enough but still "just ordinary" life. It is midway between what is heroic and what is base. It is not very glamorous, but neither is it paltry. Its special taste, which is quite different from these alternatives, makes it a rather new kind of experience. If at times we do recognize that experience in ourselves, then we may face a range of questions. Should I accept the feeling as a true and good one? Or would I be better off without it? Should I choose it so often and persis-tently that it becomes habitual for me? Or would that turn into an inauthentic pose? Should I try to find some part of my real identity there? And what exactly would that imply? For example, would it mean I am choosing to be mediocre? The fact that a feeling arises, St. Ignatius tells us, does not prove it to be from God. The latter point needs to be discerned. And kinds of feeling that become widespread in a given society need to be discerned just as much as do feelings that arise only in a particular individual. In fact, our faith com-munities must often set themselves against cultural trends in the world around them. 483 484 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In order to get at underlying issues, I wish to consider this topic in two stages. The first will be restricted to the phenomenon itself of a "just ordi-nary" feeling as a secular event in our world. Only then will I turn to the sec-ond stage, namely, to take up the kinds of faith response which we might wish to give it today. The first part, then, attempts an analysis of the "feel-ing." The second considers when, or in what circumstances, we might "choose" in faith to make it our own. Our New Cultural Situation To rephrase my opening statement, I believe that a "just ordinary" feel-ing about oneself is somewhat new as a more widespread and recurrent experience in Western culture. In recent years nearly everyone I have spoken to about this has nodded at once and said, "Yes, that's exactly how I often feel." While I possess no statistical data on its prevalence, my impression is that quite a few people have come to recognize its presence in themselves. Let me try to locate this experience more precisely. I am referring to something secular in origin and not necessarily Christian or religious in itself. Like God's rain and sunshine, it may affect everyone, just :and unjust, believer and unbeliever alike. Perhaps it was triggered off by the countercultural movement of the nineteen-sixties, since during the seventies commentators often pointed out the exaggerated attention then being given to inner feel-ings- to the personal self of each one apart from their external involvements. At that time many were being thrown back upon their subjective states of awareness to a degree that had rarely happened before. The seventies were called the "Me Decade," one that belonged to the "Me Generation" whose subjective responses (often referred to then as "getting in touch with your feelings") were given unprecedented emphasis and publicity. What had previously been mostly private now became blatantly public. But perhaps during the eighties not only the novelty but some of the disturbing quality, too, of that rather messy explosion of "subjectivity" in our midst has worn off and subsided to a degree--enough to allow "just ordinary" feelings to rise to the surface and gain attention today. What had occurred, then, was an intensification of self-awareness, a heightening of subjective consciousness among much larger segments of our population than before, and even a thematization of this event in our culture. "Souls" had been transformed into "subjects." Individuals became persons. This had happened much earlier, of course, for some exceptional people and even for smallish groups here and there, but it had never before become such a widespread phenomenon. And it involves matters of considerable importance, not easily dis- Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 41~5 missed. Bernard Lonergan has written of "the shift to interiority" in the twentieth century as the emergence of a new "realm" of human reality, i At the opposite end of the scale, the usual wild and foolish misuse of a new gift by the more excitable members of society should not blind us to its underly-ing significance. That is the larger context. More in particular I wish to stress, first of all, the quieter reverberations which those noisy events have left with many per-sons today. The gift itself of interiority is multifaceted, of course, but a first approach would notice that in part it may belong with the newly "expressive self' which has emerged alongside, and often independently of, the older "utilitarian self.''2 While the latter continues to exert a dominant influence in our midst, it must now share the public table with a more mystical parmer. From a slightly different viewpoint the "just ordinary" feeling should be seen mainly as a response to the puritan "strong self' of modern culture. After the nineteenth century in the West we gained the capacity-- appropri-ate to a technocratic society---of developing our ego-strengths. That is, a cer-tain knack, at least for special purposes, of withholding or excluding deeper levels of feeling can free an individual to concentrate on impersonal obser-vations, accurate calculations, and carefully directed efforts of the will. Further development of this inner self-control is required for any kind of efficiency and productivity in the working world. It is clear that the requisite skills are not given by nature but must be culturally developed. Not only our workplaces but our schools and colleges, too, call insistently for the formation of habits (especially of technical reason and will) which enable entry into the competitive society with all the bureau-cratic ladders and graduated salary scales of a successful career---or not-so-successful, as the case may (more often) be. In contrast to this still urgent public arena of "strong selves," individual members also return to private worlds of rest, relaxation, and entertainment, to times of weakness when they may face their own ignorance about the questions posed to them in life and recogn!ze their lack of energy for the continual efforts required. Human beings, it should be stressed, when separated from their social roles and active commitments and thrown back upon their private resources, usually do not find a great deal of their own to sustain them. Modern urban ways have cut people off from the deeply penetrating and densely inter-twined supports of rural societies. As a result, the rootless city dweller becomes conscious of boredom, of empty times to be filled up, of personal neediness and spiritual hungers not easily satisfied. An individual person, after all, is usually endangered by too much isolation from others, and mod- 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 em technologies often weaken or destroy traditional communities (families, neighborhoods, parishes). Besides, whenever institutions let us down or defeat our aims, or when hurtful clashes disturb our feelings for others, we are left alone to deal with a diminishing present and a more uncertain future. That is when a loving spouse and intimate friends (if available)become essential to our very sur-vival; without them, depressed feelings all too easily turn to thoughts of nonexistence. It was the countercultural movement which reacted against the giant bureaucratic institutions of our world and forced into the broader stream of public life the previously underground resource of subjective feelings. It transformed leisure moments of the kind just mentioned into recurrent times of self-expression which are portrayed and celebrated in our electronic media. This revealed to large numbers of fairly well-off persons in Western societies that their interior selves need to be cultivated in ways that differ enormously from the older patterns of successful selfhood modeled for them in corporate institutions. The counterculture managed to give sustained pub-licity to a host of "alternative lifestyles"---that is, a diverse range of subjec-tive modes in self-identity and interpersonal relating. This vastly expanded "realm of interiority" provides a cultural context for, and is itself fostered by, many recent movements: affirmations of per-sonal rights, the reawakening of charismata, the turn to the East, the renewal of contemplative prayer traditions, and the broadly secular interest in spiritu-alities of all kinds. It is surpi'ising to notice how the word "spiritual" and its cognates have gained such widespread use not only in the arts but in sports, politics, business enterprises, salesmanship, the military--almost every-where today. In our faith tradition, on the other hand, the interior life had a much more restricted meaning. Medieval interiority was exclusively religious--the very opposite of anything secular or worldly. In order to develop one's union with God, according to the late-medieval Imitation of Christ, believers were expected to withdraw from external involvements--at least, from all the habits and attitudes belonging to them--and to cultivate an inner commu-nion with the Lord deep within their hearts. The Imitation, we should remember, is the most popular spiritual classic of all time.3 A crucial aspect of its teaching has to do with the personal self so poignantly revealed by means of a prolonged withdrawal of the kind rec-ommended. But when thrown back upon oneself in this way, what does one find? The oft-repeated answer to this question shows how bare the cup-boards of subjectivity can be: Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 487 This is the greatest and most useful lesson we can learn: to know our-selves for what we truly are, to admit freely our own weaknesses and failings.4 I am nothing, and I did not even know it. If left to myself, I am noth-ing; I am all weakness. But if you turn your face to me, [Lord,] I am at once made strong and am filled with new happiness.5 Oh, how humbly and lowly I ought to feel about myself, and even if I seem to have goodness, I ought to think nothing of it . I find myself to be nothing but nothing, absolutely nothing . I peer deep within myself and I find nothing but total nothingness.6 No doubt, older Christians today will recall teachings of this kind as familiar features of their early training. And some of its emphases tend to give us pause. What about the inherent goodness of each human self?. This was occasionally noticed in the Imitation, but should it not have received much more attention? On this question two historical points should perhaps be made. First, the Imitation itself arose from the Devotio Moderna's care for many ordinary members of society who desired to cultivate a devout life amid late-medieval disruptions of Christian Europe (the Black Death and subsequent plagues, persistent warfare, economic hardship, the Great Western Schism).7 Out of their prolonged experience of public calamities came this first popular expression of the personal subject in the West--at least, among the little seg-ments of the population influenced by the "new devotion." The point for us here is that a faith response to those troubled times made possible an interior life for many more persons than before (including lay members living in the world). An inner self could then be cultivated by means of the careful religious teachings extended to them by The Imitation of Christ and similar writings of the movement. Thus, interiority was initial-ly a sacred realm, not a secular one. In order to develop at all, it had to define itself against the secular world. This meant, of course, that the self had precisely "nothing" of its own to fall back upon--no widely accepted norms of individual worth had as yet been formulated. The themes of individualism which we take for granted today as "natural" were simply not available in the Middle Ages. The Devotio Moderna may, in fact, have contributed notably to the first social expression of our individual sense of self. It follows that to blame it for not supplying what it was in the very process of begetting seems misguided. That would be reading history backward--a frequent modern failing. Secondly, it seems that the difference between selfhood (a good sense of self) and selfishness (a bad sense) had not as yet been separately felt. In that 488 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sacred milieu the differentiation of a secular goodness of creation apart from the fallen condition so frequently stressed in spiritual teachings remained for the future to bring about. In other words, the self-in-its-own-being could not possibly then have been "tasted" distinctly from the self-as-sinful or the self-as- saved-by-grace (or both together). True enough, humility was sometimes considered apart from habits of sinfulness--namely in Mary and in the saints--but even there what received emphasis was the divine grace of their redemption (in Mary's case extending to her prior preservation) from sin's more normal dominion. These excep-tions only proved the rule that humility--as we hear its accents in the Imitation--arises from the sharpened interior taste of one's sinful self that usually follows upon forgiveness. In view of this cultural moment of The Imitation of Christ in the early fifteenth century, its lack of any emphasis on natural goodness for the indi-vidual self is understandabl~. It is true that, by the later sixteenth century, Montaigne's Essays and Shakespeare's Hamlet and Richard II had begun to anticipate modem feelings of individual selfhood, but this was still an excep-tional happening within the sacred medieval precincts, it may be said. So many developments have taken place in the centuries since that time--the Cartesian ego, theKantian turn to the subject, the Romantic movement, nineteenth-century liberalism, as well as the already mentioned "shift to interiority" ~ind countercultural movement in our own century, that we cannot have recourse solely to a retrieval of medieval gifts. In short, the new interiority of our day differs a great deal from the "interior life" handed down to us in our spiritual tradition. The old interiority was (a) fully sacred in meaning, (b) defined in opposition to the "world," (c) low in self-esteem while high in reliance on God alone, and (d) rarely to be shared with others socially. By contrast, the new interiority is (a) mainly sec-ular in meaning, (b) defined against the mainline institutions of society (including those of the Church), (c) self-affirming and self-accepting, even if admitting one's need of friends and of the divine Other, and (d) eagerly shared with others in public lifestyles. Like many others, in my Jesuit formation I was often counseled to ignore, set aside, or "offer up" my individual feelings as distracting or, more likely, harmful to my fuller appropriation of the uniform spiritual teachings provided. These latter consisted in learning the general answers true for everyone alike and in keeping the rules set down for all without exception. That way of forming members, as we know, has been in great part aban-doned in recent decades. In any case, it had introduced painful distortions into our medieval heritage. Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 489 The main "warp" in question was directly related, I believe, to the nine-teent~ h-century rise of the "strong self" already mentioned. Let me briefly review that development. As I have noted, humility had traditionally been ~'ocused on the sinful condition of those converted to the Lord. It did not dwell merely on mortal sins committed prior to their deeper conversion, but much more on the venial sins which they came to recognize in present self-awareness. This medieval tradition may be gathered in detail from Alphonsus Rodriguez's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues.8 Against that backdrop the modem ideal of a "strong sell" to be fash-ioned in youth by anyone hoping to succeed in the secular world, or even to survive in it, presented a considerable contrast. Prior to 1965, our Catholic parishes and schools managed to combine this modem requirement (a strong selfhood formed in the conscious mind through repression of deeper feel-ings) With traditional teachings on humility (reliance on God alone because of personal sinfulness and the "nothingness" of self). This was made easier by means of the invisible wall erected around the distinctly Catholic world. By the later nineteenth century, of course, Christian faith had already become to a large extent privatized, separated from public life and domesticated in family and parish activities. For Catholics in North America, the immigrant Church had developed its own "garrison" mentality so effective!y that one could cultivate a traditionally humble self in the narrowly religious realm and at the same time a secularly aggressive self in the business, professional, political, or broadly social realm. That was the religious situation in which I was raised, and I did not then advert to its inconsistencies. Perhaps many others today can recall this com-bination of strivings. However opposite they were in character, we tried to attain them both and to some extent we succeeded--by the grace of God. In recent decades that whole effort has disappeared and as a result (among many other quandaries) a whole spectrum of possible selves has become available today. It is a somewhat unsettling set of choices. But amidst all our struggles to find or fashion personal identities (or perhaps to fortify older ways in the very teeth of these developments), the curious new event has made its presence felt--the "just ordinary" feeling. Contemporary Faith Responses At this point I wish to bring into our discussion a distinction rather dif-ferent from any mentioned so far. In a recent book, Hopkins, the Self and God, Walter Ong, S.J., has emphasized the "taste of self" which figured so prominently in Gerard Hopkins's poetry, letters, and notebooks.9 As a chap- 490 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ter on the Victorian context makes clear, the theme was not unusual even then. But Hopkins, because of his unique attention to it and extraordinary gifts of language and feeling, managed to anticipate many of our present concerns. The distinction employed by Fr. Ong in his discussion is between the self as "I" or "me" in the densely concrete, subjective stance underlying all one's experiences and, on the other hand, the self as objectified in various characteristics, habitual attitudes, and acquired abilities. Ong names the first of these "the subject-self' and the second "the self-concept"--a terminology already in use. More is meant than merely a difference between subjective and objec-tive qualities of the self. The so-called "objective" side points to an individu-al's attempts to gain a sense of developing identity--at first through the reactions :of other people, and then through one's own continued striving. Often a variety of contrasting possibilities are "tried on for size" and lived out for a time, but later modified or rejected. But underneath every such effort lurks a richer source of seifhood that unifies the ongoing and often interrupted sequence. Moreover, the subject-self also feels--at least indirectly--the inadequa-cy of whatever aspects of self-conception are presently entertained. The lat-ter are never quite right. There is always a certain sense of"more to come": Why do I doubt my capacity to keep this up any longer? Maybe I should change my mind about the whole business? Or am I trapped in a "fate" of being the way I am?l° And as soon as some new aspect of the self gains initial clarity, there is often a tendency to react in a different direction. Even if I should rejoice in a rather flattering or at least affirmative symbol of myself, my subconscious feelings may tend to exert a counterinfluence. Or if snubbed by others or blamed in any way, I might resent it at several levels at once (despite a ten-dency to self-doubt), but I will also search for memories of my better qualities. A great variety of varying patterns of such "identity searches" may be noted in spiritual direction. But what I wish to stress here is the unifying "I" in every pattern or in every sequence of changing patterns over years of per-sonal growth. "I" am the enduring (somehow even unchanging?) recipient, resource, and agent of all such reflexive feelings, perceptions, visions, and (as Eliot has taught us) endless revisions. For I am always the one who is unfinished. I exist amid processes that are ever moving me into uncertain futures. This mysterious "I" may be used, of course, in a way that includes the self-concept of my current identity. Most often the two blend together in my Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 49'1 experience of them. Wider, more inclusive self-affirmations are normal and even important. For the self-concept can never really be independent of the subject-self--the two functions are inherently connected and interactive. My various self-conceptions (especially at their least vague, most fully articulat-ed stages) need to be tested repeatedly in the subject-self. Do I feel at home in them? In fact, their authenticity becomes known only insofar as they truly actualize my subjectively felt potentials. On the other side, the subject-self cannot long endure without some kind of self-concept. Even when denied previous realizations in the social world, the subject-self may have recourse to fantasy roles in the theatre of imagina-tion. For I cannot avoid notions of selfhood altogether--my neediness finds relief only in the movement to some form of self-realization, however indi-rect, implied, or even self-sacrificial it may become for a time. But what is new today for many persons is that 'T' may recurrently refer quite exclusively to the subject-self alone. In such cases the needful relation to identities is not denied but somehow "bracketed out" or "put on hold." This distinction appears to be called for by what I have named the "just ordi- ¯nary" feeling. More precisely, the "just ordinary" feeling belongs especially to the subject-self. Now, this distinction may unlock several, of the puzzling questions which arise .from our cultural situation today. It might resolve the problem for all who try to decide whether or not--even precisely as a Christian-- they should choose to be "just ordinary." Not Mediocrity, but Limitation A first question to be faced concerns mediocrity. If one settles into a "just ordinary" feeling of oneself, would this not bring an end to growth, to any serious striving for improvement? Would it not ring the death knell of idealism (in a good sense)? Would it banish from the competitive society believers who chose to accept it--as though our economic system as such is inherently alien? Even more traditional spiritualities sought to refute the accusation that Christian faith necessarily inclined believers to accept the established pow-ers and to resign themselves to exploitation by cle4er elites (Marx's "opium of the people" view about the role of religion in society). But that false use of Christian faith is not in question here. If a devout life means acceptance of manipulation and coercion by others, then it has simply lost its roots in the prophetic teachings of Christ. Instead, what is relevant here is the insight that only the subject-self can feel "just ordinary." Such a feeling cannot rightly belong to the self-concept. 499 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 My position is that only insofar as one becomes aware of one's "purely" sub-jective selfhood in contrast to current or possible fulfillments of one's poten-tials (the self-concept always means that) does the "just ordinary" feeling arise in the first place. It would follow, then, that for persons who do not experience this newish feeling (and no one is required to do so!) a decision to be "just ordinary" might mean choosing to be mediocre. That is not the case, however, for those who do recognize the new feel-ing in themselves; what they experience, I would say, is a new sense of per-sonal limits. No doubt, our knowledge of limitations is pluriform. Each person would tend to stress different aspects of the overall human "contin-gency" (its more technical name) as this comes home to individual lives. Limits are reached in our work, our relationships, our different life-stages, our suffering of reverses, rejections, sickness, injuries, or close encounters with death and dying: Our knowledge and abilities have a great variety of limitations, but so do our energies and our capacity for making creative responses. There are traditional ways of coming to know and accept our littleness, but what I have in mind here gives a different resonance to these more familiar events. In Western cultures it may seem natural to invest one's whole identity in a career role, with its achievements, or with honors already received (here the "strong self" makes its presence felt). But against this tendency I find it possible, like Hopkins, to identify mainly with my subject-self--even though my developed talents, skills, and other acquisitions (whatever their true worth) may be kept in view. I do not deny the crucial importance of these factors in my life as a whole. But I know I could lose all use of them if I suffered a grave stroke or a debilitating heart attack, for example. And throughout that illness, whose effects could be long-lasting, I would contin-ue to experience myself as "me"--a limited person, unique in my special taste of self, the same as I was as a child and teenager, and surely to remain so until death. If I am unable to make this sort of self-identification, but insist on claiming my developed self-concept as the only true "me," the danger is that a debilitating illness may tend to destroy me altogether. And those who live into old age, even if they never suffer a health crisis of the dramatic sort mentioned, may eventually experience their subject-self as "just ordinary"-- stripped of any actual use of their various gifts. In traditional Christian teaching our need for reliance on God will nor-mally be heightened and dramatized by major experiences of suffering (',limit" situations). This will surely continue to exert a central influence on personal realizations of Christ's paschal mystery. The unusual note to be Choosing to be "Just Ordinary '" / 493 sounded here, however, concerns the dimension of selfhood which our cul-tural moment may be bringing alive. The 'T' whom Jesus calls and unites to himself, the "I" who undergoes spiritual deaths and who may then receive new life in the risen Lord--this 'T' may now choose to identify with "just ordinary" feelings rather than either "nothing" or "something good denied." It is a form of limited selfhood available today to a much larger number of persons than ever before. Humility in a New Key As cultural events bring forward different ways of experiencing not only the humanized world but also the human subject in and by whom the world is humanized, individuals growing aware of their own gifts are always exposed to new dangers from pride. In his "Two Standards," we remember, St. Ignatius highlights the time-honored medieval teaching that pride is the source and origin of every other vice, and that humility, as St. Bernard puts it, is "the foundation and safeguard of all virtues." It follows that the emer-gence of a "just ordinary" feeling raises another question: precisely what effect might this have on our traditional sense of what the virtue of humility requires? No doubt, the rise of modern democracies brought a stronger emphasis on equality into social relations in the West (in contrast to earlier ideals of "subordination," of submission to those in higher orders). Every member, rich or poor, is supposed to stand on the same ground, in a civil sense as well as "before God," as every other member. But this opened the way to compe-tition in the public "free marketplace," where the many levels of social clas-sification become even more clearly marked than in the premodern world. Personal evaluations and interpersonal judgments are so much more intense than previously that the "neurotic" society of our day has become familiar to US.11 In this context modern teachings on humility tended to stress the differ-ence between the office and the office holder. And this traditional distinction was often combined with a focus on teamwork or group contributions. In sports, the heroes who score the highest number of points, even the winning goals, humbly acknowledge the help of their teammates and the glory of the whole team, rather than their individual merits. In short, modern humility consists mainly in putting oneself down. Self-abasement, especially after some signs of achievement appear in the struggle for success over others, is felt to be essential. This means that humility and humiliation are closely approximated in modern competitive societies. But in the postmodern world (if that is where we are today) many are 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 beginning to sense their subjective distance from the very structures of suc-cess and achievement themselves. Perhaps this is why human vulnerability and powerlessness have received so much attention in recent years. If I am right in this--to some extent and for some members only, of course--then the "just ordinary" feeling would denote an ability to experience self-worth independently of competition for successful contributions in the established institutions of the world. When the feeling does mean that, I would argue in favor of seeking to realize it in one's life. This would not necessarily signify nonparticipation in the large struc-tures of society--whether in business, politics, sports, communications, or whatever. But it could qualify the style of our participation because our main sense of self would no longer consist in whatever we might be able to achieve. To gain this rather sophisticated balance, of course, might not always be easy. It would mean learning how to give one's whole energies to highly skilled performances without pinning one's sense of self to success in performing well. Whatever the-degree of success or failure realized over time, those who contribute would continue to experience themselves to be "just ordinary" members of a community which regularly affirms their worth on a basis other than that of competition, success, or failure. This would bring a newish tone, a new chord, I think, to the age-old music of humility. Sacred and Secular Community The "just ordinary" feeling may also raise a question because of its very secularity. Normally the Church lives in a certa{n state of tension with the secular society in which its witness to Christ's message is to be given. But the quality of that "creative tension" can vary a great deal. In our day the tension may disappear whenever a new secular discovery affecting human growth is announced in a book or magazine, or its virtues are proclaimed in the media. It may then be taken up by skilled practitioners and made available in local programs. In recent decades we have received many such gifts. An example might be the interpretation of dreams by means of Jung's psychological theories. This can become quite an interesting activity, valu-able in itself. But there is a danger that believers who are attracted to it may then transfer most of their religious energies to essentially secular programs of this kind (think, too, of the many self-help groups claiming attehtion today) and thereafter give little attention to more central Christian practices. In particular, our own question concerns the "just ordinary" feeling. Is it another "brand-new discovery" of the type just mentioned? Does it not sug-gest a secular facet of human life which may all too easily replace more Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 495 authentic 'teachings? Are we simply "shaking holy water" on secular objects and calling them Christian? I would reply that, while its potential misuses are undeniable, its right use may also be safeguarded if the underlying issue is kept clearly in sight-- the issue of the human call to transcendence. I will conclude this essay by exploring that deeper concem. At one level we remember that any new discovery may be claimed by Christian faith because all that is human belongs to God the Creator. Thus, we may recognize and welcome every fresh gift of human expertise, inte-grate it within the larger faith (making it subordinate, not dominant), and in this manner sanctify all things in Christ. No doubt this should be so. But at a deeper level of analysis the question arises in a new form because secularity (secular realities taken in a good sense, as differing from secularism) is always related to the sacred as its opposite. In this way Judaism and Christianity themselves initiated a radical process of secularization. For us the world is no longer "full of gods" since we believe in the one Creator who is beyond all created things (transcen-dent). Our faith has secularized the cosmos. Later on in history the civilized world, too, took further giant steps on the same journey. In great part today our political, economic, social, and cultural institutions are experienced not as immediately God-given but as humanly devised. In this more radical sense, then, whenever ongoing secularization enables a new gift of human life to be realized, the sacred powers of tradi-tional faith need to be adapted to the new situation. What had formerly been handled indirectly by religious beliefs has now come directly (even if incom-pletely) under human management. In faith we may welcome such events as fulfillments of God's intentions in creating humans "in his own image and likeness" (that is, cocreative with him). But we also note an important clue: there should be no change in secularity without a corresponding change in sacrality. The frequent failure here is a simple transfer of energies from the sacred into the secular realm while reducing religious operations to empty words alone. More specifically, if the emergence of "just ordinary" feelings can bring new aspects of human existence within the range of human competency, then we may rejoice in this prospect on condition that a corresponding, positive change occurs in our sense of specifically sacred gifts. But if the change should be merely negative, a loss of religious energies, then something has gone wrong. For example, the work of Carl Rogers and others on self-actualization and self-realization has an obvious bearing on our topic, but even here the 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 "just ordinary" feeling takes the process a step further, I think. All of these factors, we should remember, are secularizations of human powers which previously had been contained or implied within sacred gifts. 12 In Gerard Hopkins's poetry the sacred envelope remained untorn: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves--goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying What I do is me: for that I came. I say more: the just man justices; Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces; Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is-- Christ--for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his . 13 Even more to the point are his famous closing lines in another poem: In a flash, at a trumpet clash, I am all at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond. 14 The eternal worth to be realized at last in Christ is anticipated by a believer who knows his subject-self as "poor potsherd" and "matchwood." Surely this comes close to our "just ordinary" feeling even if its validation depends on faith in the resurrection. If we look back to Hopkins, we can per-ceive its secular potentials lurking within his very religious lines. In any case, now that it has emerged to stand on its own feet in our midst, we are challenged to respond afresh in faith to a new aspect of human self-realization. We may rejoice inthis event, but without a positive religious response of some kind the 16ss of transcendence becomes palpable. We may happily accept the growth of a human value, but its simultaneous excision from religious meanings calls for new initiatives, for real adaptations which do not downgrade the relevance of our transcendent faith but rather give it fresh impetus, redirecting its energies in new ways. Two principles may be l~ormulated in this regard. I have already been exploring the first of these, which might be put as follows: The Principle of Adaptation: Every new growth of secular competence should stimulate a corresponding renewal of sacred powers. The second may'be named: The Principle of Intensity: In our creative response to a given process of secularization, one important criterion would be a specific heighten-ing, rather than any lessening, in the experience of transcendence. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 497 Whenever the Christian component is subtly reduced to a comfortable repetition of now irrelevant phrases, this second principle has been ignored. The urgency of transcendent faith for human affairs can easily be diminished without any advertence to its loss. Our "just ordinary" feeling, for example, simply cries out for creative faith responses. But what are these to be? That is the real issue. Will our sense of Christian humility be intensifie~l instead of being replaced? What fresh meaning can we now give to the crucial "poverty of spirit" which indicates membership in the Lord's kingdom? The heightened subjectivity that often seems to afflict us may also serve to awaken creative potentials previously unknown. Even though it makes us experience our human limits as never before, our acceptance of "just ordi-nary" feelings could, in fact, lead to new dimensions of liberation. But this will not be automatic. Our spiritual behavior will need to adjust itself cre-atively to the new gift. Possible responses are always at hand. Whenever in faith the members of our new communities reflect upon the significance of feeling "just ordinary" togetherl I believe the Real Presence of the risen Christ may receive a fresh emphasis. This heightened communal awareness may correspond in a unique way to our traditional poverty of spir-it. Precisely here a new intensity of faith may be gathering force. During the nineteen-twenties T.S. Eliot insistently employed the symbol of the Angelus bell, a traditional reminder of the moment of Incarnation. In that extraordinary instant, and whenever it is made present to us today, tran-scendent powers cut through the secular time dimension to disturb our mod-em preoccupations. In similar fashion a few decades earlier, wher~ striving to resist new inroads of modernity Pope Pius X led Catholic parishes to give renewed attention to the Real Presence in the Eucharist (mainly as reserved in the tabernacle or received during Holy Communion). Whatever judgments we may wish to pass upon those earlier modes of resis-tance, it seems clear that a creative response for today will need to focus on the Eucharist as an action performed by the whole community. We may be able to enter the eucharistic action as full participants because we surrender in faith to the Lord who makes his Real Presence felt in our ways of relating to one another. The "just ordinary" feeling may be chosen as a means to that effective recognition. When in a small faith community the members have learned how to act and speak out of their newfound sense of ordinary selfhood, all their gifts may be appreciated warmly and without exaggeration. They can be put into action zestfully since the members are set free from the anxieties of personal competition. Each one's acceptance by all the others may become intensified through the distinctly felt presence of the risen Lord in their community today--not merely by anticipat.ing the Second Coming. 498 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In short, we are being graced, membered in a new life, invigorated, and turned in hope to the future by this much more active presence of Christ. That intensification of God's "reigning" in us may correspond accurately and be found to dovetail beautifully with the newly released "just ordinary" feelings of the members about themselves. NOTES l Method in Theology, New York: Herder & Herder, 1972, pp. 257-262. 2 On this distinction see Robert Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: Univ. of California Press, 1985, pp. 32-35 and passim. 3 SeeThomas ~ Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, trans. Wm. Creasy, Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1989; "Introduction," pp. 11-13. Also Devotio Moderna: Basic Writings, trans. J. van Engen, New York: Paulist Press, 1988; "Introduction," p. 8: "The Imitation of Christ has undoubtedly proved the most influential devotional book in Western Christian history." It has also been translated into all the great lan-guages of the world. 4 Book I, chap. 28; trans. Creasy, p. 32. 5 Book III, chap. 8; trans. Creasy, p. 95. 6 Book III, chap. 14; trans. Creasy, p. 102. 7 Details are given in J. Leclercq, E Vandenbrouke, L. Bouyer, The Spirituality of the Middle Ages (vol. 11 of The History of Christian Spirituality), London: Bums & Oates, 1968, pp. 481-486 (text by F. Vandenbrouke). 8 Trans. Joseph Rickaby, S.J., Chicago: Loyola Univ. Press, 1929; vol. II, pp. 165- 352: "The Eleventh Treatise: On Humility." See chap. IIl: "Of Another Main Motive for a Man to. gain Humility, which is the Consideration of His Sins." (The first main motive, given in chap. II, is "To know oneself to be full of miseries and weak-nesses.") 9 Walter J. Ong, S.J., Hopkins, the Self, and God, Toronto, Buffalo, London: Univ. of Toronto Press, 1986; see especially pp. 22-28. For a recent philosophical discus-sion see Frederick Copleston, S.J., The Tablet, 11 Nov. 1989 (vol. 243, no. 7791), pp. 1302-1303. l0 Cited by Alphonsus Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, p. 168, see n. 8, above. Chap. II, "That Humility is the Foundation of All Virtues," pp. 168-170; chap. III, "In Which It Is Shown More in Detail How Humility Is the Foundation of All Virtues, by Going Through the Chief of Them." ~l On this, see Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart (n. 2, above), pp. 117-121, for its development in the U.S.A. But similar versions of "modem nervousness" and "therapeutic culture" could be gathered from the other Western traditions (Continental, English, Canadian.). ~2 Confer Paul C. Vitz, Psychology As Religion, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1977, pp. 20-27, for a discussion of Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow, and Rollo May as moving from religious into secular concerns. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 499 ~3 The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed. W.H. Gardiner and N.H. MacKenzie, 4th ed., London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967; poem no. 57, p. 90. 14 Ibid, poem no. 72, p. 106. The Hunter Yahweh's manifest love has all the proud and fierce majesty of a turkey buzzard flying with outstretched wings upon hot afternoon breezes, which are thrust upward unconstrained from ocher grabens below. This carnivorous bird is the other side of the symbolic dove. It is the Master of the Universe when he is not content waiting for hesitant or indifferent souls who fail to seek him. Rather, he becomes the strident hunter pursuing those who choose hiding in dark shadows caused by lichen-covered trees, or along cow-trodden riverbanks, where brown mud oozes into slowly flowing, opaque waters. Yahweh spreads his wings, searches for the goats and lambs, such as you and me, when we forget how to look for him circling over us in the translucent sky. Brother Richard Heatley, F. S. C. De La Salle, "Oaklands" 131 Farnham Avenue Toronto, Ontario Canada M4A 1H7 At the Threshold of a Christian Spirituality: Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal Method John McMurry, S. S Father John McMurry, S.S., cun'ently serves at the St. Mary's Spiritual Center and as a spiritual director for St. Mary's Seminary and University in Baltimore, Maryland. He has taken part in thirty workshops led by Dr. Ira Progoff since 1976, and he has led some sixty Intensive Journal workshops since 1978. His address is All Saints Church; 4408 Liberty Heights Avenue; Baltimore, Maryland 21207. Since 1978 1 have been teaching Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal method occasionally at weekend workshops. Dialogue House, the umbrella organiza-tion covering all of Progoff's works, describes his method as a program of "professional and personal growth with a spiritual point of view." It is a non-analytic means for individuals to attain two goals. First, it enables individu-als to recognize and accept the wholeness of their life without denying the reality of any of its contents, no matter how unpleasant or embarrassing. Secondly, it enables individuals to get a feel for the consistency in the direc-tion that their life is taking as they discover potentials for the future hidden within their personal past. The goals of the program are attained by means of a variety of written exercises which are done in a group setting under the direction of an experi-enced leader who is committed to follow authorized guidelines. Individuals in the group work in private with the contents of their own life. The only prereq-uisites are an atmosphere of quiet and mutual respect, and an attitude of open-ness and acceptance on the part of each exercitant toward his or her own life. The program is not only nonanalytic; it is also nonjudgmental and is structured to help people experientially discover answers to questions such as the following: Where am I in the course of my life right now? How did I get to the place where I am in the course of life? Where is my life trying to go from here? What is the next step? 500 Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 501 The Intensive Journal method itself has no content. The method is a dynamic structure to which each person supplies the content from one's own life. The structure aims at enabling individuals to establish deeper contact with the flow of creative energy in their own life. It is especially useful for people engaged in decision-making, for people who feel confused about the next step in life, for those who have lost contact with the direction their life wants to take, for those who feel alienated, isolated, or meaningless, and for those who simply want to expand their personal horizons of creativity. In creating the Intensive Journal program, Progoff had in mind people in a secular culture who are unfamiliar with or alienated by traditional religious language. However, the awarenesses stimulated by the exercises of his method serve to help Christians experience meaning in traditional doctrines which might otherwise remain merely propositional. In the case of people who approach it from the perspective of faith, the Intensive Journal program is a form of prayer. The Intensive Journal Method as Prayer In a chapter entitled "Prayer as Dialogue," Karl Rahner discusses prayer in terms apropos of the Intensive Journal method. He is addressing a com-mon problem of people who are earnest in their efforts to enter into dialogue with God. They often state the problem something like this: "When I pray, I cannot tell whether I am talking to myself or to God." Rahner challenges the presupposition that God says "something" to us in prayer. He raises some "what-ifs": What if we were to say that in prayer we experience ourselves as the utterance of God, ourselves as arising from and decreed by God's freedom in the concreteness of our existence? What if what God primarily says to us is ourselves in the facticity of our past and present and in the freedom of our future? Rahner concludes that when, by grace, we experience ourselves as the utterance of God to himself and understand this as our true essence, which includes the free grace of God's self-communication, and when in prayer we freely accept our existence as the word of God in which God promises him-self to us with his word, then our prayer is already dialogic, an exchange with God. Then we hear ourself as God's address. We do not hear "some-thing" in addition to ourself as the one already presupposed in our dead fac-ticity, but we hear ourself as the self-promised word in which God sets up a listener and to which God speaks himself as an answer. 1 Rahner is suggesting that God's word to me in prayer is not an idea; rather, God's word to me in prayer'is myself, that is, my personal, individual life story--past, present, and future. The implication is that my life story is 502 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 important in my relationship with God because it is the way God speaks to me and I to God. A further implication of Rahner's proposal is that I enter into dialogue with God ipsofacto under three conditions: 1) when I experience my life story as God's word addressed to himself; 2) when at the same time I understand that God is really present in my actual life story--past, present, and future-- as a free and undeserved gift of himself to me; 3) and when I freely accept my life story as the word of God in which God promises his Word to me. The Intensive Journal program is an instrument which lends itself to the discovery of the real presence of God in one's own personal life story. The content of the program is the content of the life of the Journal-writer; hence it is through the life of the Journal-writer that Christian faith may enter into the individual's use of the Intensive Journal exercises. Progoff has described the prayer dimension of his method as follows: The Intensive Journal work is indeed a species of prayer and meditation, but not in isolation from life and not in contrast to active life involve-ment. Rather, it is meditation in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences. It draws upon the actualities of life for new awarenesses, and it feeds these back into the movement of each life as a whole.2 The Intensive Journal Method and Spirituality In his "handbook of contemporary spirituality," Rahner raises the ques-tion whether the term "spirituality" is good, understandable, useful, or even has any meaning. Then he makes the observation that the crucial point for personal and pastoral life today is not so much a matter of getting the "spiri-tual" dimension of existence into our heads or other people's by means of abstract and conceptual indoctrination (which he says is ineffective anyway) as it is a matter of discovering the Spirit as that which we really experience in ourselves.3 Perhaps Rahner slightly understates the case. It may be that the crucial point for us personally and in our pastoral work today is simply to discover "the Spirit" as a fact of our own personal experience and to help others do the same. Furthermore, in order to be able to use the word "spirituality," we might let it refer simply to the individual's .relationship with God or, in other words, to what goes on in the creative process between God and each of us. This article presents Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal program as an aid to the process which is going on between an individual and God. The program adds no content to the life of the individual; it mirrors the movement which is already going on and stimulates that movement by feeding new aware- Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 503 nesses back into the movement of life. ("Journal feedback" is one of the main features which distinguish this method from an ordinary diary.) This program, then, is a dynamic structure for evoking self-transcendence from the factual contents of a life story. For a person of faith it is a way of discov-ering the Spirit "as what we really experience in ourselves." Genesis of the Intensive Journal Method Following Progoff's discharge from the U.S. Army, he earned a doctor-ate in the area of'the history of ideas from the New School of Social Research in New York City. On the basis of his dissertation, Jung's Psychology and Its Social Meaning, published in 1953 and still in print, Progoff was awarded grants for postdoctoral studies with Carl Jung for two years. By virtue of those studies Progoff was licensed as a therapist by the state of New York, where he went into private practice after returning from Switzerland. In 1959 Progoff founded the Institute for Research in Depth Psychology at Drew University in New Jersey and served as its director until 1971. During those twelve years-he and his graduate students searched out the dynamics of creativity in published biographies of creative people whose life stories had ended. From his research Progoff concluded that creativity occurs through the interplay among various dimensions of life which may at first seem disparate. On the surface it may appear that the process in one dimension is unrelated to the process in another dimension, whereas in fact something new comes into being when the individual makes correlations among the dimensions of life. It is as though the individual is a complexus of certain processes which occur throughout life on different planes. Progoff has developed, the Intensive Journal method over more than a quarter-century of helping his clients apply the fruits of his research by dis-covering hidden sources of creativity within their own lives. He began teach-ing his method to groups in the late 1950s. In 1975 he published At a Journal Workshop, a thorough description of his haethod up to that time. In 1980 he published a companion volume, The Practice of Process Meditation, which added another dimension to the program. Dimensions of Human Existence In Progoff's view, the artist is paradigmatic. Each individual is both the artist and the ultimate artwork of life, and yet individuals execute the art-work which is themselves by engaging in outer activity which has inner meaning for the one doing it and beneficial consequences for society. In other words, in order for each of us to be fulfilled as an individual, we must 504 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 do some work (opus as distinguished from labor) which is both personally and socially meaningful. At the same time as we are creating our lifework, the doing of the work is creative of us. The basic dialogue of life is the dynamic actual (as distinguished from logical) dialogue between human cre-ators and their works. In Progoff's words, "Outward activity propelled from within is the essence of creative existence.''4 From his research on the lives of creative people Progoff learned to dis-tinguish certain dimensions of life as loci of the components of creativity. The Intensive Journal method recognizes those dimensions as sources of the raw material of creativity in anybody's life, They are the dimensions of time, ¯ of relationships, and of personal symbols. The Intensive Journal workbook uses color-coded dividers to mark off various sections in each of which the Journal-writer deals with the move-ment in one particular dimension of life. Within each of the main sections are tabbed subdividers of the same color as the main divider. Each tab bears the name of the specific exercise to be entered there. For example, the "Life/Time Dimension" is indicated by a red divider and contains four tabbed red subdividers; each of the four tabs bears the title of the written exercise to be entered there by the Journal writer. Similarly, the dimension of personal relationships in life, called the "Dialogue Dimension," is indicated by an orange divider and comprises five tabbed subdividers for each of the five "dialogue exercises." The part of the Intensive Journal workbook for making entries which deal with dreams and personal imagery is called the "Depth Dimension." It is indicated by a blue divider and five tabbed blue subdividers. In summary, the workbook comprises sections which reflect and stimu-late the movement of an individual life in each of its dimensions. Each of the main sections of the workbook represents a dimension of life and comprises several subsections for various written exercises which deal with the con- "tents of that life in styles appropriate to that particular dimension. The Dimension of Life/Time We do not get the chance to start life over, but the Intensive Journal pro-gram does offer us a tested means of restructuring our life from the perspec-tive of the present. At the same time it provides a means of discovering unactualized potentials which we may have overlooked the first time around, or which were not ripe then and may at some point in time be able to take a form they could not have taken originally. In studying the biography of a deceased person generally recognized as creative, the end or goal of that career may be clear and unmistakable, even Progof['s Intensive Journal Method / 505 though the lif'e story includes setbacks, stalls, reversals, and obstacles. It may be easy to see how everything in that life was leading up to some great scientific or philosophical work because we are viewing it from the perspec-tive of the end. But what if I am the life story I am working with? In that case the life process is still in progress. I am not looking at a still photograph but a mov-ing picture, and I am looking at it from the inside. In that case I start with the present epoch of my personal life and get a feel for this period of life from the inside. That is, I allow myself to feel the quality or tone of my life during this present period and record it objectively. The record I make of the pre-sent period will be an objective statement of my subjective experience of life at present. Then I am in a position to allow the course of my life to present itself to me from the perspective of the present in the form of about a dozen significant events. Each of those significant events serves to characterize a whole period of life. Of course, many other things also happened during that period. There are other exercises for dealing with them. The idea in this exercise is to get a feel for the wholeness and continuity of my life as I allow it to present itself to me in an articulated form so that I can use other Journal exercises to deal with it one period at a time. All the Intensive Journal exercises presuppose the attitude of openness and receptivity mentioned above, a nonjudgmental attitude toward life. It is not so much the objective contents of a life that affect its degree of creativi-ty, as the subjective attitude toward that life. In the creative restructuring of a life, a relaxed, friendly approach which allows surprises is important. Dimension of Relationships In the life/time dimension treated above, there is a principle of whole-ness, continuity, and direction,toward-a-goal at work. In the dimension of relationships, the dynamic is that of dialogue, that is, the give-and-take of equals listening and responding to each other in a spirit of mutual trust and acceptance. The principle of "dialogue relationship" applies first of all to significant people during various epochs of life. The. same dynamic applies analogously to meaningful work-projects (opera), which, like persons, seem to have a life of their own. In his research on creative lives, Progoff discovered that creativity occurs when people approach several kinds of meaningful contents of their life not as inert matter to be manipulated but as personal entities. That is, he discovered that creativity occurs when people acknowledge that each of sev-eral meaningful contents of their life has a life story of its own analogous to 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 that of a person. Each of these contents of life has a life story with blockages to growth toward a goal, with hopes, disappointments, successes, and so forth. He found that for the sake of movement toward acceptance of life and all it holds, it is of paramount importance to establish a "dialogue rel~ition-ship" not only with persons and works but witl~ the physical and societal dimensions of life, and with events, situations, and circumstances of life which "just happen." Progoff's research into de facto creative lives yielded two important corollaries. First, the movement which the dialogue relationship fosters is intrinsic to the "creative spirit. Secondly, in the dimension of relationships as well as in other dimensions of life, the factual contents of life are less impor-tant in the creative process than the way people relate to whatever the con-tents of their life are. The "Dialogue Dimension" of the Intensive Journal workbook offers a format for a variety of exercises which enable the Journal writer to engage in written dialogue with people who have played meaningful roles in their life, with work projects, their own body, sources of values in their life (v.g., fami-ly, ethnicity, religious commitment), and things over which they had no con-trol. The purpose of these dialogue scripts is to give a voice to the meaningful contents of life, that is, to provide them a forum in which mutu-ality can flourish in the form of a "dialogue relationship" rather than a mere-ly utilitarian relationship. This leaves the Journal writer open to the possibility of something new emerging from an old relationship from the past. That new something may contribute an insight or an awareness which is of benefit to another relationship or which creatively affects the movement in another dimension of life. The Dimension of Inner Symbols This dimension of life refers to dreams, "twilight imagery" and personal wisdom-figures as the vehicles which come forward spontaneously to carry the movement of life further. The aim of the exercises in this part of the Journal, called the "Depth Dimension," is to facilitate spontaneous correla-tions between inner imagery and outer life so that new insights, awarenesses, and possibilities for action and decision-making might come to the surface of consciousness. Then, by means of appropriate Journal exercises, they can be fed back into the ongoing movement of life and thus stimulate growth by creating new configurations in the way things fit together in life. Progoff tends to shy away from the use of dreams in his method because many people seem unable to deal with them except analytically. The Intensive Journal method of working with dreams is basically to allow the movement Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 507 in a recurring dream or in a cluster of dreams to suggest some correlation with movement in one of the other dimensions of life. Then the exercitant may use appropriate Journal exercises to work in that dimension of life. The Fourth Dimension: The Spiritual As mentioned above, Progoff sees the Intensive Journal work in geoeral as "a species of prayer and meditation., in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences." However, he came to appreciate the role of the spiritual dimension in creativity only after he had developed Journal exercises in the three dimensions of life treated briefly above. The specifically spiritual dimension is reflected in his program as the dimension of meaning. The procedures for working in that dimension are called "Process Meditation." In the Intensive Journal program, formal work in this dimension is reserved for those who have already taken part in the "Life Context Workshop," which deals with the three dimensions of life treated above. As Rahner has said, "A basic and original transcendental experience is really rooted [in] a finite spirit's subjective and free experience of itself.''5 The "process" of "Process Meditation" refers to "the principle of conti-nuity in the universe" which is found on three levels: the cosmic, the s6ci-etal, and the personally interior.6 The Intensive Journal method helps the individual relate to "process" on the interior level. The movement of life in the three dimensions treated above is character-istically movement toward personal wholeness and the integration of the individual with oneself. Progoff calls that movement "core creativity." "In terms of individual lives," he writes, "the essence of process in human expe-rience lies in the continuity of its movement toward new integrations, the formation of new holistic units [of life/time].''7 In the spiritual dimension of life the movement is characterized by rela-tionships which transcend the core creativity of the individual. The roots of such relationships--even the personal relationship of the individual to God--are to be found in the stuff of everyday life, but at a deeper than ordi-nary level. Rahner speaks of the knowledge of God as "concrete, original, histori-cally constituted, and transcendental." He further says that such knowledge of God "is inevitably present in the depths of existence in the most ordinary human life.''8 Progoff interprets "meditation" broadly. In his usage it refers to whatev-er methods or practices one uses in the effort to reach out toward meaning. "The essence of meditation," he says, "lies in its intention, in its commit- 508 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ment to work inwardly to reach into the depths beyond the doctrines of our beliefs.''9 Hence, "Process Meditation" refers to a set of exercises which draw on the individual exercitant's intimations or experiences of connected-ness to the principle of continuity in the universe. Progoff describes his method of Process Meditation as follows: Our basic procedure is to reenter the process by which our individual spiritual history has been moving toward meaning . We reenter that pro-cess so as to reconnect ourselves with the inner principle of its move-ment, and especially so that we can take a further step toward the artwork that is our personal sense of meaning,l° Conclusion In a review of The Practice of Process Meditation, William V. Dych, S.J., translator of Rahner into English, compares what Rahner calls "the uni-versal presence of grace and the Spirit" with Progoff's thesis that "there is in every human being an inner source of new light and life that expresses itself whenever the circumstances are right." Dych views Progoff's thesis as so supportive of Rahner's position that it would be hard to imagine a more pos-itive affirmation of it. ~ NOTES i Karl Rahner, The Practice of Faith: A Handbook of Contemporary Spirituality, ed. Karl Lehmann'and Albert Raffelt (New York: Crossroad, 1984), pp. 94-95. 1 Ira Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation: The Intensive Journal Way to Spiritual Experience (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1980), p. 18. 3 Rahner, op cit, p. ! 86. 4 Ira Progoff, At a Journal Workshop: The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1975), p. 35. 5 Karl Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Christianity, trans. William V. Dych (New York: The Seabury Press, 1978), p. 75. 6 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 40. 7 Ibid, p. 58. 8 Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith, p. 57. 9 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 34. l0 Ibid, p. 82. II William V. Dych, "The Stream that Feeds the Well Within," Commonweal, 25 September 1981 Our Journey Inward: A Spirituality of Addiction and Recovery Maureen Conroy, R.S.M. Sister Maureen Conroy is co-director of the Upper Room Spiritual Center; EO. Box 1104; Neptune, New Jersey 07753. [~qany of us travel a great deal throughout our lives. With advanced means of transportation, traveling around the state, country, or world has become second nature to us. However, no matter how much or how far we travel, as we journey through life we discover that there is no journey more challeng-ing and scary than the journey inward, the journey to find true happiness and our most authentic self. We search for what is fulfilling and life-giving, but at times our searching takes us down the dark road of addictive behavior. We search for happiness in compulsive ways that deaden us rather than give us life--until we experience a desperate need for help. In this article I reflect on the darkness pervading the addictive process and some ways to journey through the darkness to our truer self. I discuss three aspects of our journey from addiction to recovery--woundedness and wholeness, powerlessness and surrender, and pain and compassion--and describe some dimensions of a spirituality of addiction and recovery related to these three aspects. A Spirituality of Woundedness and Wholeness As human beings God has given us the gifts of strength and freedom; we are called to live in the light. It is also true, however, that we are wounded, weak, vulnerable, broken people. We come from an environment of dark-ness. The brokenness in our ancestry and the dysfunction in our families has influenced our growth as free human beings. We are broken and we are in deep need of healing and redemption. We cannot save ourselves. In our addictive stance we want to avoid our woundedness, ignore our 509 510 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 weakness, and run from our vulnerability. We seek fulfillment through an object, a substance, or a process; that is, we form a pathological relationship with a mood-altering reality in order to find wholeness and happiness. We find it difficult to be honest about the dysfunction in our families and the brokenness in ourselves, so we look for something outside ourselves to keep us from facing our darkness. Spiritual growth and recovery, however, are just the opposite of this avoidance. To grow humanly and spiritually we must journey in and through our woundedness; we must face it head on. We need to feel the messiness of our brokenness and to discover God there. As Psalm 50 says, "a broken and humbled heart, O God, you will not spurn." We must discover that God's heart of love encompasses and holds as precious our wounded hearts, bodies, and spirits. It is through dwelling in our woundedness and vulnerability that we experience our authentic self and that we enable our addictive self to grow less powerful. We come to experience the child within and integrate our dark side with our light side. How do we make this journey in and through our woundedness? We do it by uncovering our addiction layer by layer. By this I mean we allow the walls of denial and layers of dishonesty to reveal themselves; we honestly appraise our unhealthy behaviorL Denial blocks our inner journey. It is a buffer against any reality thatis not acceptable to us, a way to protect our-selves from awareness of realities that are too difficult to face. Spiritual growth happens when we remove layer upon layer of denial that covers over our woundedness and our truer selves. Rather than avoiding our wounds, we need to expose them to the fresh air, to expose our broken hearts to the heal-ing .heart of God, to bring our darkness out into the light of day, to bring hid-den realities out to the light of God's love and the care of others. As Meister Eckhart says, "God is not found in the soul by adding anything, but by a pro-cess of subtraction." So it is through peeling off layer upon layer of denial and dishonesty that we discover God in our brokenness. We discover the original blessing that we are, our deeper and truer selves. We see and feel the aspects of ourselves--minds, hearts, and bodies--that mirror God's pres-ence. We experience the truth of the Genesis story where God says, "Let us make people in our image and likeness." We discover the authentic self that God desires to be fully human and fully alive. Growth in wholeness, therefore, takes place through integrating our dark side with our light side, through accepting our brokenness as we journey through it, by seeing the original blessing that we are. We discover that "darkness and light are the same" (Ps 139:12), that God is present in every dimension of our being. Thus, our woundedness becomes a gift, so rather Our Journey Inward / S'l'l than covering it over with layers of denial, we come to feel at home there because God is there. We discover our truer self underneath the layers of an addictive self. We integrate our wounded and blessed self, our darkness and our light, and we become more and more a whole person. We experience the truth proclaimed by St. Irenaeus: "God's greatest glory is a person fully alive." A Spirituality of Powerlessness and Surrender The journey through addiction to recovery is also one of powerlessness and surrender. God sent Jesus in the flesh to free us from our enslavement to sin and to show us the way t6 live in freedom. It was through Jesus' total surrender to his death on the cross that he experienced new life and showed us the way to true freedom, the freedom of letting go and surrender. In our addictive stance, we are trying to control everyone and everything around us. We grow hardheaded and hardhearted, and we attempt to control the sub-stance or process that we are abusing--alcohol, food, money, sex, work, or an obsessive relationship. We are out of control, and the more we try to con-trol everyone and everything around us, even the substance we are abusing, the more out of control we become. Our addiction is enslaving us to our own self-centered needs and desires. We are "number one" when we are addicted; our addictive needs come bei'ore everyone else. Our addiction enslaves us to an object or process that we think is going to bring us lasting happiness when it is really bringing us misery and isolation. It enslaves us emotionally, spiritually, physically, and socially. The more we try to control the use of our addictive reality, the more we lose con-trol. We deny the basic reality that Paul~ expresses: "The desire to do right is within me, but not the power. What happens is that I do, not the good I will, but the evil I do not intend. But if I do what is against my will, it is not I who do it but sin which dwells in me" (Rm 7~18-20). In our denial we keep think-ing we can choose to keep this substance in right order; however, the rbality is that our will is not working, it is diseased. We are powerless. So how does spiritual growth and recovery happen in relation to our being out of control? It begins when we admit our powerlessness, realize the insanity of thinking that we can control all aspects of our lives and our des-tiny. Spiritual growth happens through the journey of surrender, not control; it begins at the moment of surrender. We need to admit that our ability to choose has become greatly impaired through the disease of our addiction. Our trying to choose not to drink, not to overeat, not to overwork, not to engage in compulsive sexual activity, is just not working. Our willpower simply does not work. As we begin to admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, we find 512 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 new life. When we surrender rather than control, we are choosing life: "I have set before you life and death, a blessing and a curse. Choose life, then, that you may live, by loving the Lord your God, heeding God's voice and holding fast to God. For that will mean life for you" (Dt 30:19-20). As we admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, true power grows within us--the power to love others, the power to experience God's love, and the power to love ourselves. Through our surrender we come more deeply in touch with our authentic self--the self that is alive and not dead, free and not enslaved, joyful and not depressed. True freedom grows--a freedom that heals rather than hurts, that brings about growth rather than destruction, that results in life rather than death. In our surrender we begin to make positive choices for recovery, attend-ing twelve-step meetings and living the twelve-step program. We choose to take responsibility for our lives and our recovery, like the paralyzed man who had lain at the pool of Bethsaida for thirty-eight years until Jesus asked: "Do you want to be healed?" We need to respond to that same question in our addiction because recovery is hard work; it involves a gre.at deal of sacri-fice and responsibility. Also, through our daily admission of powerlessness and constant atti-tude of surrender, we discover God in a new way--a God who supports us in our weakness and strengthens us in time of need, a God who will not leave us even in our most out-of-control moments. We discover in Jesus a God " who has experienced weakness and powerlessness, a God who has stood totally stripped and poor, a God who invites us to have the attitude of a vul-nerable child rather than a controlling adult: "Unless you become like a little child, you shall not enter the kingdom of God." We experience a God whose power takes over in our weakness, as St. Paul discovered through his strug-gle: "Three times [which means numerous times] I begged the Lord that this might leave me. God said to me, 'My grace is enough for you, for in weak-ness power reaches perfection.' " It was through constantly admitting his powerlessness that Paul's spiritual growth and recovery took place. So he says: "I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I am content with weakness., for when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:8-10). Thus, through admit-ting our powerlessness over an object of addiction and surrend.ering to God our weakness, we experience the power of God, the love of God, new life, renewed freedom. We move forward on the journey ,of recovery. A Spirituality of Pain and Compassion Finally, the journey through addiction to recovery is one of pain and Our Journey Inward / ~313 compassion. One of the hard facts of life is that suffering is an integral part of it. Jesus himself had to suffer great pain in order to bring new life. Our God is not a distant God but a compassionate God who experienced great pain, the pain of loving us. In our addictive stance, we deal with pain in an unhealthy way. We want to run from it, cover it over, deny it. We are caught in a "Catch 22" situation because, in using a substance to avoid our pain, we are really in great pain-- the pain of loneliness, isolation, and alienation from our true self and from healthy relationships with others. As our addiction progresses, it becomes increasingly painful to maintain our denial. We are overcome by the pain of shame and self-disgust. Spiritual growth and recovery take place when we face that pain, feeling it, looking at it square in the face, rather than avoiding it by abusing a sub-stance. As our walls of denial break down, we begin to feel the pain we have been covering up--the pain of living, the pain of loss, the pain of being human, the pain of developing intimate relationships, the pain of childhood neglect and abuse. We find out that healing involves pain, as in the case of lepers. Leprosy causes numbness. When Jesus healed the leper, he invited him to feel pain in the areas of previous nrmbness. The same is true of the leprosy of our addiction: as we begin to let down the walls of denial, we begin to feel pain. We realize that recovery and healing are not easy. As we journey through deeper levels of pain in our recovery, we discover a God who knows what it is to suffer. As Meister Eckhart says: "Jesus becam~ a human being because God, the Compassionate One, lacked a back to be beaten. God needed a back like our backs on which to receive blows and therefore to perform compassion as well as to preach it." Our compassionate God became a suffering God. Our God feels with us, suffers with us. Again, Eckhart says, "However great one's suffering is, if it comes through God, God suffers from it first." What a gift we have in a God who suffers with us! As we experience this tremendous love of a compassionate God, we become people of compassion, persons who can feel with others in their bro-kenness. We become more vulnerable and grow toward greater wholeness because love is the greatest healer. As our walls of denial are penetrated with God's compassionate love and we become more vulnerable, we can be with people in their brokenness. That is one of the beautiful realities of the twelve-step program: it is a group of people who are in touch with their bro-kenness and therefore have great compassion for those who are struggling. They live out these words of McNeill, Morrison, and Nouwen: "Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into places of pain, to share in broken-ness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with 514 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human" (Compassion, p. 4). As we feel the pain that our addiction has tried to cover, we become wounded healers--people who minister out of our woundedness as well as our strength. "What you have received as a gift. give as a gift" (Mt 10:8). Our pain becomes a gift that we can give to other addicted people as we compas-sionately help them to face the devastation of their addictive behaviors. In sum, our inward journey involves walking down the dark paths of our brokenness into the light of God's presence and our authentic self. A spiritu-ality of addiction and recovery must include two sides of reality: awareness of our woundedness, powerlessness, and pain as well as growth in wholeness, surrender, and compassion. Without a vivid sense of the depths of our bro-kenness in our addicted self, we cannot move toward the wholeness of our authentic self. Without a keen awareness of our darkness, we are blind to the light of God's healing presence. Without an acute sense of our vulnerability, we cannot become compassionate healers who stand with others in their pain. Though scary and challenging, our journey through our own darkness will lead us to the light of true happiness, deeper fulfillment, and new life. Awareness Examen for Recovering People In God's presence, take ten to fifteen minutes to prayerfully reflect on your day. Contemplate your day together--you and God. Prayer of Thanksgiving I thank God for the gift of this day, the gift of my sobriety, the gift of my recovery. I thank God for specific git~s of life that come to mind, such as my health, my family, my community, my friends, my job, my twelve-step program. I thank God for gifts of my inner life, such as the ability to feel and think, energizing feelings I had during the day (name them), specific values and beliefs that guided my actions, ways I used my thinking and imagination for growth, positive choices for recovery which I made today, God's life within me. I thank God for two or three concrete life gifts and inner gifts that I am particularly aware of and grateful for today. Prayer for Light I humbly ask God to help me see myself and my life today as God sees Our Journey Inward them. I ask God to remove blindness and denial from my mind and heart. I ask God for the gift of honesty with myself and God. I ask God for a dis-ceming heart and a truthful mind. Prayer of Awareness God and I contemplate my life, my heart, and my thinking this day from the moment I woke up until now. What specific feelings did I feel today? When did I feel most alive today? most my true self?, most joyful? most peaceful? most in tune with my deeper self?. How did I feel God's presence today? What was that feeling like? What was God like? At what moment did I feel God's presence the strongest? When did I feel powerless today? out of control? enslaved? unfree? What was I powerless over? Did I surrender that reality to God? When did I feel vulnerable today? When did I feel pain today? What was the pain about? Did I share that painful feeling with God or another? With whom have I been most honest today? myself?, another? God? What was I honest about? How did I struggle with honesty today? With what issue or feeling? ' What were my feelings underneath the struggle? fear? anger? guilt? Which of the twelve steps was my strength today? How did I live it, carry it out, in a practical way? In what concrete ways did I strive to improve my conscious contact with God? What choices did I make for my recovery today? How do I feel about those choices? When did I feel compassion for another person today? How did I reach out to others today? show concem and care? make amends? Prayer of Amends I ask God to forgive any specific wrongdoings of today. I ask God to have mercy on any negative attitudes or feelings that I got stuck in today. Prayer of Surrender I surrender all to God: my life, my will, my brokenness, my addictions, my imagination, my thoughts, my feelings. I surrender to God specific attitudes, feelings, thoughts, actions over which I felt powerless today. I ask God's strength to take over in my specific weaknesses. I ask God's power to be present in the specific areas in which I feel helpless and powerless. 516 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 O God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Take, O Lord, and receive my liberty, my memory, my understanding, my entire will, all that I have and possess. You have given all to me. To you, O God, I return it. All is yours, dispose of it wholly according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for this is sufficient for me. (Prayer from the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius) RECOMMENDED READING Larsen, Eamie. Stage H Recovery: Life Beyond Addiction. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1985. May, Gerald. Addiction and Grace. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988. McNeill, Donald; Morrison, Douglas; and Nouwen, Henri. Compassion. New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966. Nakken, Craig. The Addictive Personality: Roots, Rituals, Recovery. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden, 1988. Whitfield, Charles L. Healing the Child Within. Pompano Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1987. A Gift to Share The Jesuit Heritage Today "Ignatian prayer puts the history of salvation into the present tense." --Walter Burghardt, S.J. A Spirituality for Contemporary Life ¯ presents six stimulating reflections on the Jesuit heritage today. Theologians Walter IBurghardt, David Fleming, Monika Hellwig, Jon Sobrino, ElizabethJohnson, andJohn Padberg speak about living with God in ordinary life. ISBN 0-924768-02-9 112 pages List Price $5.95 A Resource to Keep See Order Form Inside Back Cover for Special Offer for Readers of Review for Religious Apostolic Spirituality: Aware We Are Sent James H. Kroeger, M.M. Father James Kroeger last appeared in our pages in May/June 1988. He has a doctor-ate in missiology from the Gregorian University and has published five books. His address: Maryknoll Fathers; EO. Box 285; Greenhills Post Office; 1502 Metro Manila; Philippines. Adequately capturing realities in the spiritual life always demands the use of dynamic, expansive language. For this reason, spirituality is frequently described in relational categories--between a Christian and a personal God, between the servant-herald and the crucified and risen Lord. Such a relation-ship of intimacy is at the heart of biblical spirituality: "I will be your God and you shall be my people"; Christians are Jesus' friends and call their heavenly Father "Abba." Spirituality may also variously be described as growth, an evolution toward maturity, a pilgrimage. Each category presents an authentic, albeit partial, grasp of the human-divine dynamic operative in our lives. In this article, "consciousness" or "awareness" is the category for our insight into spirituality, and it naturally overflows with an apostolic or missionary dynamism. Consciousness: A Window into Spirituality Consciousness may seem to be an elusive concept, yet no one would deny the reality. An individual is in a conscious state when perceptual and cognitive faculties function normally. One continuously synthesizes various stimuli from within and from without; ideally, the result is a healthy personal integration. Notice that many constitutive elements are included in consciousness: seeing, hearing, feeling, thinking, desiring, experiencing. Consciousness incorporates perceptions, emotions, observations, thoughts, aspirations, 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 choices. It also includes an introspective awareness of the personal impact of all events and experience. In light of this brief and rudimentary description of the phenomenon of human consciousness, one may begin to elaborate the relationship between consciousness and a spirituality of the apostolate. Our service--all focused on raising our God-consciousness and expanding the horizons of our spiritu-al awareness. We want to use our eyes to see perceptively and our ears to hear attentively; we hope to gain deepened insight into our lives through faith's mirror (Jm 1:22-25). In another vein, a look at the venerable Eastern traditions of many Asian nations reveals that the man of God or the God-conscious, God-focused per-son is essentially a seer, sage, or mystic. Such a person "sees" and experi-ences God; God is not an object of knowledge, but a subject of experience. To grow in holistic spirituality is concomitant with an experiential awareness and consciousness of God's presence and activity in all dimensions of one's life (Arguelles, 50-51). The beautiful prayer in the Upanishads, one of the Hindu sacred books, expresses the aspiration and spiritual desire to come to this deeper conscious union with the divine. In Sanskrit and English it is: Asato ma satgamaya Tamaso ma jyotir gamaya Mrutyu ma amrutam gamaya. God, lead me from untruth to truth Lead me from darkness to light Lead me from death to immortality. Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk and spiritual writer (1915-1968), has enabled countless people to gain insights into their spirituality. Merton inti-mately links spirituality and prayer with the transformation of conscious-ness. He sees that a renewed conscious awareness underlies all spiritual growth; Christians must cease to assert themselves as the center of con-sciousness and discover God's presence as the deepest center of conscious-ness within them. Thus, as their self-consciousness changes, they are transformed; their self is no longer its own center, it is now centered on God. It is important to note that for Merton no one will ever be capable of communion with God and others without ttiis deep awakening, this transfor-mation of consciousness. Such transformative growth "consists in a double movement, man's entering into the deepest center of himself, and then, after passing through that center, going out of himself to God" (Higgins, 49). Merton asserts that, unless our spirituality or prayer "does something to awaken in us a consciousness of our union with God, of our complete depen- Apostolic Spirituality / 5'19 dence upon him for all our vital acts in the spiritual life, and of his constant loving presence in the depths of our soul, it has not achieved the full effect for which it is intended" (Merton-A, 67). In today's world, "What is required of Christians is that they develop a completely modern and contemporary consciousness in which their experience as men of our century is integrated with their experiences as children of God redeemed by Christ" (Merton-B, 279). The renowned Indian theologian D.S. Amalorpavadass has written elo-quently on the role of consciousness or awareness in attaining spiritual inte-gration and interiorization: "If wholeness is a state of being at which one should finally arrive in stages, awareness is the running thread and unifying force. Awareness needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream . Awareness is also the core of spirituality and God-experience." He repeats: "Awareness or consciousness should flow through the various actions of our life. One should maintain awareness in all that one does. It should serve as a running thread and connecting bond., through the various activities of our day, and the different periods and stages of our life, in an uninterrupted and continuous flow. This flow will make our whole life a continuous prayer and a state of contemplation" (Amalorpavadass, 4, 24). Brief glimpses of Scripture, Eastern traditions, a Trappist monk, and a contemporary theologian have shown that "consciousness" helps one grasp the human-divine dynamic operative in the Christian life. Within this catego-ry- which is foundational--a vibrant spirituality and a concomitant mis-sionary dynamism can flourish. And, in a Marian spirit, Christians who are missionary will grow ever more conscious of the marvelous deeds that God is accomplishing in us, our neighbors, our society, our Church, and the entire world. The Consciousness of Paul the Missionary The New Testament describes Paul's radical awareness of God's active presence in his life. Though not naturally prone to humility, Paul admits that he was knocked to the/~round; in Damascus "something like scales fell from his eyes," By grace h~ perceived that he was the chosen instrument to bring Good News to the Gentiles and that he would accomplish his mission only with hardship and suffering (Ac 9). Paul's consciousness of his apostolic calling was certainly at the basis of his extraordinary missionary journeys. Without a vivid perception and faith commitment, no one would willingly endure the challenges Paul faced. Such endurance would be foolishness. Yet Paul is never willing, even momentari-ly, to minimize his authority and commitment as an apostle; the introductory 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 verses of many of his letters are clear evidence of this. Paul's conversion was no superficial or passing phenomenon. It penetrated the core of his person and totally transformed his way of thinking and acting--his consciousness. Further investigation into Pauline theology and spirituality reveals the depth of his convictions. Paul is absolutely certain that God has a wonderful, marvelous, loving plan of salvation for the entire world (note his frequent use of the words mysterion and oikonomia). His letter to the Ephesians con-vincingly, almost mystically, explains how "God has given us the wisdom to understand fully the mystery,'~ "the mysterious design which for ages was hidden in God." Pauline reflection on God's loving plan of salvation (mysterion) synthe-sizes his belief that this design has been fully revealed in Christ and will be recapitulated in Christ at the end of time. This manifestation is focused on salvation, not condemnation or judgment, and is open to all peoples. It unfolds in stages: God, Jesus, Spirit, Church, world. Humanity's response is faith or personal appropriation of the mysterion (Fitzmyer, 807-808). A recent scholarly investigation (Plevnik, 477-478) has concluded that "Any center of Pauline theology must therefore include all these components of the apostle's gospel, his understanding of Christ, involving the Easter event and its implications, the present lordship, the future coming of Christ, and the appropriation of salvation. The center is thus not any single aspect of Christ, or of God's action through Christ, but rather the whole and undivided richness and mystery of Christ and of the Father's saving purpose through his Son" (mysterion). Mystery, in one word, captures the Christian message. Paul is the missionary par excellence because he believed, lived, prayed, served, reflected, witnessed, preached, and suffered so that God's mysterion would be known, extended, loved, and freely received. Obviously, Paul's missionary consciousness had the "mysterion encounter" as its central focus and driving force. Paul's self-awareness as an apostle was rooted in being chosen as a ser-vant and minister of God's loving plan of salvation. It might be asserted that the mysterion engulfed and consumed Paul; his consciousness was so trans-formed that he could assert that Christ lived in him, that fellow Christians could imitate him, that life or death no longer mattered, and that he gloried in giving his life for Christ. In a word, the mysterion is foundational to Paul's missionary identity and consciousness. Mission and Mysterion Consciousness The Second Vatican Council in its decree on the missionary activity of the Church places mission and evangelization at the center of the Church-- Apostolic Spirituality / 52'1 not allowing this task to float somewhere on the periphery: "The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature" (AG, 2). Pope Paul VI continues in the same vein: "We wish to confirm once more that the task of evangelizing all peoples constitutes the essential mission of the Church . Evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity. She exists in order to evangelize." (EN, 14). To evangelize--what meaning does this imperative have for the Church? It is to be no less than the living proclamation of the mysterion, God's loving design of universal salvation. As the community of Jesus' disciples, the Church realizes her "deepest identity" and "her very nature" when she ful-fills her mission of evangelization. She is to be always and everywhere "the universal sacrament of salvation" (LG, 48; AG, 1). For her, to live is to evangelize. In contemporary terms, the Church accomplishes her "self-realization" or "self-actualization" through mission and evangelization. She is only authentic and true to herself when she is announcing and witnessing the mys-terion. A nonmissionary Church is impossible; it is self-contradictory. The great missionary pope Paul VI writes that the Church "is linked to evange-lization in her most intimate being" (EN, 15); mission is not "an optional contribution for the Church" (EN, 5). In addition, the Church's missionary identity is not a late afterthought of the risen Jesus--though this outlook may seem true today of some Christians and local churches. Animation and rededication are necessary because Christians "are faithful to the nature of the Church to the degree that we love and sincerely promote her missionary activity" (EE, 2). These few paragraphs may invite the comment "I have heard it all before." True, yet all of us often hear without hearing, see without seeing, and listen without comprehending. It is precisely at this juncture that conscious-ness is poignantly relevant. Many Christians do not deny the missionary nature of the Church, but their level of conscious awareness is weak or mini-mal. This fact is unfortunately true even of many full-time Church personnel. The intention here is not to berate or castigate individuals. Rather, it is a stark statement of the need for "consciousness-raising"; it is a call for Christians to expand and deepen their awareness; all urgently need "conscientization-into-mission." In short, the entire Church herself must experience a profound reevangelization in order to become a truly evangelizing community. Recall the themes presented earlier on the centrality of consciousness in Christian life and spirituality. They seem particularly relevant as the Church struggles with her fundamental missionary identity. Is not this a central burn-ing question in the Church today: What has happened to her mission con- 522 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sciousness--where is its urgency and dynamism--where are the contempo-rary St. Pauls? A rephrasing in mission terms of earlier quotes on consciousness from Amalorpavadass may prove enlightening. Church-as-mission is "the running thread and unifying force"; it "needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream"; it is at "the core of spirituality and God-experience"; ira"will make our whole life a continuous prayer and state of contemplation." Trinitarian Basis of Mission Consciousness and Spirituality In the same breath that the Vatican Council spoke of the Church's mis-sionary identity, it presented the foundational rationale of mission. In a word, the why of Church-as-mission is Trinitarian, "for it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she takes her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father" (AG, 2). This mission vision, expressed in Trinitarian language, must not frighten or intimidate readers. Do not say, "I do not understand Trinitarian theology, so I cannot grasp this." While a bit difficult and challenging, this insight is also beautiful and rewarding. It transports us to the heart of mission; it flows from the core of our faith in the Trinity; it greatly enhances our mission con-sciousness and spirituality. The most inviting manner to appreciate mission--via the Trinity--is to remember that it is an eminently personal approach. The Father is a person, his son Jesus is a person, their girl of the Spirit is also a person. This is only a statement of a basic dogma of the faith. Grasping the immanence and closeness of the three Persons appears far more fruitful than grappling with the incomprehensibility of the transcendent Trinity (Billy, 602-611). Growth in conscious awareness, experience, and encounter with each of the three Persons richly broadens our vision of mission. It also manifests that mission theology and spirituality draw from the same wellspring. An appre-ciation of the roles of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit in mission produces an integrated missiology, incorporating "Abba" theology, Christology, and pneumatology. The result will certainly be a more holistic theology and spir-ituality of mission. Finally, it is the conviction of this author that such an approach relieves some current tensions and answers some questions in mission. For example, debates centered on interreligious dialogue with the living faith traditions of the world can probably be better resolved more from a pneumatological approach than from only a Christological one. Therefore, if mission theology and spirituality are an integrated endeavor, the deepened consciousness will provide insights for both theoretical and practical questions. Apostolic Spirituality / 523 Our attention now tums to the roles of Father, Son, and Spirit in mis-sion. How does each person of the Trinity send and accompany us into mis-sion? Recall the title of this presentation, which links mission and spirituality with a consciousness of being sent. The Role of the Father The Father is presented in Scripture as the harvest master and vineyard owner. Mission, therefore, originates with the Father; mission is God's pro-ject. The Father determines its parameters. Already this awareness places the Church and her evangelizers in an auxiliary, servant role. Vatican II clearly set aside triumphalistic ecclesiology as well as any simplistic identification of the Church and the Kingdom of God. As servant of the kingdom or laborer in the vineyard, the Church is to be "the kingdom of Christ now present in mystery" and the "the initial budding forth of that kingdom" (LG, 3, 5). In addition, the Council, situating the Church within the larger framework of God's design of salvation (mysterion), entitled its first chapter of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church "The Mystery of the Church." The Church and all missioners must radically see themselves serving the mysterion "according to the will of God the Father" (AG, 2). The Father desires generous cooperators and humble workers for the harvest. He freely chooses them and they are to belong to him (Lk 6:13; Mk 3:13-16; Jn 15:15-16). These passages remind evangelizers that all mission is a sending (missio/mittere), originating in the Father; their vocation is God's gratuitous gift. Missioners do not send themselves; mission cannot be defined in legal terms; all must be according to the Father's gracious design. Affirming mission, therefore, as a gratuitous gift in the Father's gracious vision, emphasizes the centrality of grace. Thus, missioners understand, as the country priest in Bernanos' novel says on his deathbed, in all vocations "Grace is everywhere" (Bernanos, 233). Trinitarian mission is always soteriological; its purpose is liberation and salvation. The Father has no other goal, as Paul clearly reminded Timothy: He "wants all to be saved and come to know the truth." Condemnation or rejection are inconsistent with the Father's design (Jn 3:16-17; Mt 18:14). The Father, overwhelmingly "rich in mercy" (Ep 2:4), extends his great love to everyone, as the universalism of both Luke and Paul make clear. All evangelizers have experienced "the kindness and love of God" (Tt 3:4); it is out of their deep consciousness of the Father's personal graciousness that they journey to all places, peoples, and cultures. They are aware that they have received all as girl, and they desire to give all with the same generosity (Mt 10:8). Any missioner would relish being described as "rich in mercy." 594 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 The Father cannot be surpassed in his kindness and generosity (Jm 1:5, 17); his mercy is made concrete and visible when he sends Jesus, his Son. This is definitely a new mode of God's presence with his people; it is love in personal form. This unfolding of the mysterion far surpasses previous mani-festations of Yahweh's presence to his people Israel (Heb 1:1-2). Missioners strive to be continuations of the love of God manifested personally in Jesus, and this approach brings transformation and deepened consciousness. Our discussion of the Father's role in mission carries us back to the heart of the Trinity: God is love (1 Jn 4:8), and all manifestations flow from this identity. No less than the inner life of the Trinity is founded on the dynamism of divine love. Thus, the mysterion necessarily is a loving design since it arises "from that 'fountain of love' or charity (fontalis amor) within God the Father" (AG, 2). It is imperative that missioners and evangelizers become mystics like John the Evangelist (see 1 Jn 4:7-21); nothing less can explain the love of God for a fallen world and rebellious humanity. No other motivation is ade-quate to the missionary calling--of the entire Church. Mother Teresa of Calcutta has named her congregation the Missionaries of Charity, and she never tires, of reminding her audiences that this is the fundamental vocation of all Christians. It sounds fantastic, but it is true: The love of the Trinity is personally poured into our hearts and it transforms all evangelizers into mis-sionary messengers of God's limitless love. Knowing our personal God as the font of love is the highest level of consciousness possible. Mission spiri-tuality becomes a conscious centering on Trinitarian love. This is the solid missiology-become-spirituality promoted by Vatican II. The Mission of the Son Jesus declares openly that he has been sent by his loving Father; the phrase "the Father who sent me" occurs forty-six times in the Gospel of John. And a salvific thrust is evident in the missioning of Jesus by his Father. Vatican II expresses Jesus' missioning as a reconciling presence "to establish peace or communion between sinful human beings and himself . Jesus Christ was sent into the world as a real mediator between God and men" (AG, 3). In Paul's theology, mediation and reconciliation are vital ele-ments of the mysterion (2 Co 5:19; Col 1:13; Rm 5:1)~ Jesus' continuing "Abba experience" (Kavunkal, 9-15), enabling him to faithfully accomplish his mission, has several dimensions: his coming or proceeding from the Father (noted above), his remaining with the Father (Jn 10:38; 16:32), and his eventual return to the Father (Jn 16:5; 7:33; 13:36). This means that Jesus fulfills his mission in light of a particular conscious- Apostolic Spirituality / 525 ness: continual intimacy with his Father. Luke tells us that, before making such a decisive move in his ministry as the choice of the Twelve, Jesus "went out to the mountains to pray, spending the night in communion with God" (Lk 6:12). Mission in the Jesus mode has its source, continuation, and fulfill-ment in the Abba experience. This dimension of Jesus' living of his mission provides evangelizers an inviting model for their own mission consciousness. In its holistic vision of God's design for salvation, the Council sees the Church as continuing, developing, and unfolding "the mission of Christ him-self" (AG, 5). The apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi (13-16, 59-60) and the pastoral statement on world mission of the United States Bishops To the Ends of the Earth (25-27) also confirm mission as an ecclesial act in fidelity to Jesus. Contemporary evangelizers, cognizant of the Jesus-Church continuity, seek to live and witness as the community of Jesus' followers. They recall his promises (Mt 16:18; 28:20), but readily admit they are fragile "earthen vessels." They faithfully accept that "Christ in his mission from the Father is the fountain and source of the whole apostolate of the Church" (AA, 4). A missioner's model is "sentire cum ecclesia'" (feel and think with the Church), frankly admitting that one is "simuljustus et peccator" (concomi-tantly both upright and sinful). Who among Jesus' followers does not need a deeper consciousness of these realities? Central to the mission of Jesus is the mystery of the Incarnation: "The Son of God walked the ways of a true incarnation that he might make men sharers in the divine nature" (AG, 3). This radical identification of our broth-er Jesus with us mortals (Heb 4:15) makes us rich out of his poverty (2 Co 8:9). He became a servant (Mk 10:45) and gave his life "as a ransom for the many--that is, for all" (AG, 3). Consistently, Church Fathers .of both East and West have held that "what was not taken up [assumed] by Christ was not healed" (Abbott, 587, note 9). Thus, when Jesus took to himself our entire humanity, he healed, renewed, and saved us. In brief, incarnation is the fundamental pattern of all mission. Today evangelizers are deeply conscious of the ramifications of mission as incarnation. No missioner worthy of the name underestimates the impor-tance of indigenization and inculturation; they develop a spirituality of "depth identification," becoming as vulnerable as Jesus was in his humanity. This same pattern is the model of growth and development of all local churches (AG, 22). While it is certain that the mission of Jesus is initiated at the Incarnation, his baptism by John in the Jordan is an act of public commitment and conse-cration to mission. Jesus pursues his ministry; though it will encounter grow- 526 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ing opposition and lead to the human disaster of Calvary, he will not betray his commitment. Note that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all juxtapose Jesus' baptism and the triple temptation in the wilderness. The tactic of Satan is to subvert Jesus with possessions, pride, and power; at the core, all Satan's promises tempt Jesus to renege on his dedication to mission. The more conscious an evange-lizer becomes of the struggle involved in mission faithfulness, the closer he will be drawn to Jesus. "who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin." The missioner will constantly and with confidence "approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and favor and to find help in time of need" (Heb 4:15-16). Instructive for the Church and her evangelizers is an appreciation of the continual action of the Spirit in the life of Jesus. The creed affirms that he was conceived "by the power of the Holy Spirit." The same Spirit descends on Jesus at the moment of his baptism (Mt 3:17); he is led by the Spirit to the desert (Mt 4:1); he returns to Galilee in the power of the Spirit (Lk 4:14); he begins his preaching mission at Nazareth asserting that "the Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Lk 4:18). As Jesus was empowered by the Spirit, he sends forth his own disciples saying: "Receive the Holy Spirit" (Jn 20:22). Peter (Ac 4:8), Paul (Ac 9:17), Stephen (Ac 6:5; 7:55), and those who listened to their preaching (Ac 10:44) were all filled with the Spirit. In fact, the entire nascent Church brims with the Spirit's presence (Ac 2:4), and thus the community increases while it enjoys the consolation of the befriending Spirit (Ac 9:31). Jesus, his disci-ples, and likew.ise today's evangelizers all are in mission through the mar-velous action of the Spirit (Kroeger-A, 3- 12). Concretely in the practical order, Jesus carries out his mission through evangelization--proclaimiog the GoodNews of the Kingdom. The first words that Mark places on Jesus' lips are centered on this very theme (Mk 1"15). Luke also portrays Jesus' mission as focused on glad tidings to the "little ones of this world" (Lk 4:18-19). As Paul VI has noted, this theme "sums up the whole mission of Jesus" (EN, 6). Jesus could not be impeded in his ministry: "I must announce the good news of the reign of God, because that is why I was sent" (Lk 4:43). Contemporary evangelizers, reflecting on the urgency and scope of Jesus' kingdom proclamation, will find themselves imitating Jesus' ministry as he lived it in silence, in action, in dialogue, in teaching, and in prayer. Yes, the Good News of the Kingdom for Jesus means an integral, holistic approach to evangelization--because all dimensions of the total gospel are expressions of his enduring love (Jn 13:1). Apostolic Spirituality / 527 Jesus' entire life, from the Incarnation to the Ascension, was a procla-mation. All he said and did were a testimony to the Father's loving design (Jn 3:31-35; 7:16; 8:38; 14:24). Jesus existed on nothing else; his "suste-nance/ food/meat" was to do the will and work of the one who sent him (Jn 4:34). In everything Jesus was faithful to the Father. Reflective, insightful evangelizers interiorize the fidelity mind-set of Jesus (Ph 2:5); they also imitate St. Paul in his concern for faithful transmis-sion of the message of Jesus preserved by the Church (1 Co 15:3, 11). In prayer and meditation missioners refocus themselves on Jesus and his king-dom, and often this demands setting aside personal opinions and ambitions. Mother Teresa of Calcutta notes that Jesus does not always call us to be suc-cessful, but he always invites us to be faithful. This fidelity to Jesus and his message should not be interpreted in too narrow a sense. As announcers of Good News, we consciously interiorize Jesus' gospel values; however, we seek to transmit them to humanity in all its cultural, social, religious, and politico-economic diversity. Certainly, this is a fantastic challenge; it is central to contemporary evangelization. Paul VI expressed it wisely and poignantly: "This fidelity both to a message whose servants we are and to the people to whom we must transmit it living and intact is central axis of evangelization" (EN, 4). Lifestyle is key in any vision of evangelization. For our contemporaries, who willingly listen only to witnesses (not theoreticians), the missioner's authenticity and transparency are generally the first elements in evangeliza-tion; wordless witness is already a silent, powerful, and effective proclama-tion. It is an initial act of evangelization (EN, 21, 41). Jesus himself adopted a particular, concrete lifestyle. His mind-set was fidelity and obedience to his Father; his outward manner manifested the lived values of poverty, total dedication, persecution, apparent failure. The Church and her evangelizers "must walk the same road which Christ walked, a road of poverty and obedience, of service and self-sacrifice to the death" (AG, 5). Bluntly, there is no authentic Christian mission without the cross and all its surprises, foolishness, and scandal (1 Co 1:18-25). True mission is always signed by the cross, and without it we cannot be Jesus' disciples. The evan-gelizer is always generous in bearing a personal share of the hardships which the gospel entails (2 Tm 1:8). Constantly the Christian disciple is measuring his life and apostolate against the lifestyle of Jesus and the patterns of the gospel. Sustained prayerful reflection and an ever deepening consciousness of one's personal relationship with the Trinity are the unique way of interior-izing the paradox of the cross and the power of the resurrection. 528 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 An anonymous poet, speaking of the centrality of the Incarnation and Redemption in Christianity, noted that there are no definitions in God's dic-tionary for these terms. One must search for the meaning of Bethlehem and Calvary under another category. Their significance is to be found only when one reads how God defines love. Indeed, God's loving plan of salvation is a message of hope for all peo-ples. It is universal and should be preached and witnessed "to the ends of the earth." To spread this universal message demands great dedication and faith, as seen in the practical advice that Paul gave to Timothy (2 Tm 4:1-5). The evangelizer, conscious of his role in the actualization of the mysteri-on, will surrender enthusiastically to the invitation of Jesus: Come and fol-low me in my mission. This conscious surrender will open his eyes to perceive, not so much what his efforts are accomplishing, but how Father, Son, and Spirit are working fruitfully in and through his life. With this vision, contemplation and actibn harmoniously blend and sustain one anoth-er; the evangelizer experiences living the mysterion. Eventually, all will be recapitulated in Christ and God will be

Issue 50.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1991. ; Volume 50 Number 6 November/December 1991 Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister Song of the Groom The Erosion of Faith The Prayer of Stupidity R~vtEw FOR Rt~l.~C~OUs (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW ~'Oa RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS o 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ".ST.LOUIS, MO 63108 1.91 PRISMS . For those who take their Christian calendar for granted, the celebration of Christmas day seems more an ordinary part of the secular year than the extraordinary event it is. in the case of the business retailer the days leading up to Christmas become the watershed for a profitable sales year. For those in school the Christmas season marks ihe end of a semester, perhaps a gradu-ation, or at least a holiday time. There are large parts of Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, and Hindu worlds where Christmas remains a Western cultural "playtime" invention. And what is Christmas really for us? Christmas celebrates an almost unbelievable reality: God being born as a human being, as a rather ordinary helpless baby. As usual with the arrival of a baby, Christmas represents jby, and with the magical ingredients of angels singing, shepherds watching, and Magi adoring we seem to hold Life with a gentle and light touch. Yet we cannot ignore the dark side of Christmas and the various struggles present within its story, such as the massacre of the innocent babies and the refugee reality of this young family in Egypt. One continuing struggle we all enter into as Christians is in believing that God loves this tangled human world so much. Another cont(mpo~:ary area of con-flict for us lies in the chosen limitations which God takes on in being human, for example, in being male, not female, in being Jewish, not Irish, Polish, or Japanese, in being an uneducated, itinerant preacher, not a priest, a lawyer, or a successful financier. Certain things will be remembered about Jesus-- this God-man--ways of speaking, the kinds of stories he told, his program for what it means to be blessed. All of this sets up the potential for more conflict and misunderstanding from this Middle Eastern way of approaching life so different from our own. Perhaps in our time we need to enter into Christmas more from God's point of view of our human world rather than fixating on our own conflictual struggles. Today it seems that causes and movements, allegiances and preju-dices, tend to make us small, mean, and even vindictive. Christmas take on new importance for Us Christians when the reality we celebrate allows us to identify with God in smallness and in the mean things of this world. We enter a little more lightly and gently into the conflict of limitations which God so eagerly took on in Jesus--the one we call our Vindicator. God desires to minister to a world out of love even though some forms and 801 [109 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 expressions of love always seem to be the source of so much misunderstand-ing and conflict. As a tribute to John of the Cross as we close the four hun-dredth anniversary celebration, Kevin Culligan focuses upon John's : m~mstry--like God's-~coming from an ardent lover. Always the energy of love which seeks union and draws forth imitation enhances at the same time the differentiation of the ones in love. Teilhard de Chardin's evolution axiom, "union differentiates," restates more secularly the Pauline concept of the glory of differences in hands and feet and eye within the Body of Christ--all united in the love of Christ in God. Our contemporary struggle with our own human sexuality in relating to our Christian God needs to find softer focus within the light of Christmas. Maybe there is a kind of divine humor in speaking and relating to God in masculine and feminine imagery. After all, if sexuality makes no sense in referring to our trinitarian God's life, at least the origins of our own human sexuality--limiting as it is in its male and female forms--stem from our cre-ator God of love. And so in accentuating our masculine and feminine reali-ties we reflect back some kind of reality within God's life. Jesus only makes concrete in his very person the struggle of our human love of God--both towards himself and to the God he calls abba, Father. The paradoxes involved in language about God and in responding to a God so intimately involved with us human beings--"male and female God created them"-~are touched upon by two authors in this issue, Robert Annechino and Nancy Cross, as they consider the experience of our loving God and God's loving us. Hennessy's expansion of the Marian mysteries in the public ministry of Jesus adds balance and fullness to our entering into salvation events. Limits in our loving in the form of narcissism is touched upon by Markham and Sofield. O'Hea looks to its roots in the erosion of faith. Darkness even in our loving response in prayer is considered by Dent and Ostini. Ottensmeyer, with a certain lightness of touch, has us take hold of what we might call our perversity principles. The poem, "Monastic Ruminations," by Auer and the article "Messiaenic Epiphany: '. amidst animals, Love is born'" by Schloesser are intended as two special, and different, love-gifts to our readers. May the God enfleshed for us, celebrated anew this Christmas season, help us touch issues and challenges of our times lightly, gently, and with grace. David L. Fleming, S.J. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister: John of the Cross's Lived Example Kevin Culligan, O.C.D. This article is an edited version of a talk Father Kevin gave in December 1990 at the beginning of the fourth-centenary commemoration of St. John of the Cross's death in 1591. Father Kevin was his province's provincial and is now its director of continu-ing education and ongoing formation. His address is Discalced Carmelites; P.O. Box 429; Hinton, West Virginia 25951-0429. A number of years ago, at a seminar on St. John of the Cross and Spiritual Direction for directors of formation in religious communities, one of the par-ticipants told the group that he had come to our seminar in secret: "If my community knew I was participating in a seminar on St. John of the Cross, they would think I had gone off the deep end and would probably remove me from office to protect our novices." For me that remark sadly illustrates the poor image St. John of the Cross has for many clergy, religious, and laity in the United States. In 1926 Pius XI proclaimed him a doctor of the Church precisely because his writings were judged, after three and half centuries of thorough examination, to have universal value for the spiritual formation of Christians. Yet, for most American Catholics today, John is little known and his writings are a closed book. Many think of him primarily a's a mystic and poet, and so have difficulty identifying with him or believing that his teachings have much value for ordinary practical Christian living. Others, like the great American psycholo-gist and philosopher William James, have read his writings but consider him a negative ascetic, admirable in his personal austerities, perhaps, but whose teaching--"to come to possess all, desire the possession of nothing" (Ascent 1.13.11)--is psychologically dangerous. Even the images of John in reli-gious art, where he is usually portrayed embracing a cross, scare people. In Carmel we think of St. John of the Cross differently. He is our spiritu- 803 ~104 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 al father. We have experienced that his teaching, while challenging, is filled with practical wisdom. We regret that he is so little known and so negatively perceived in the United States because we believe he offers adult Christians a "spirituality with substance," as John Welch, O.Carm., states in his recent book, When Gods Die: An Introduction to John of the Cross. Thus, during the celebration of the fourth centenary of his holy death on December 14, 1591, we challenge ourselves to make his life and writings more accessible to our brothers and sisters in the United States. We hope many will discover him and find in this sixteenth-century Spanish friar a sure guide for our com-mon journey toward union with God. This article, then, considers John less as poet and mystic than as pastoral minister. As an ordained priest he made ministry to others the primary activi-ty and absorbing concern of his adult life. Even as a youngster he cared for others. Years later, his greatest writings on the spiritual life emerged from his ministry of spiritual direction. He wrote his famous diptych, The Ascent of Mount Carmel and The Dark Night, for other Carmelites, both friars and nuns, "since they were the ones who asked me to write this work" (Ascent, prologue, 9). His other two masterpieces in spirituality, The Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame of Love, were written for two women he served as spiritual director, one a Carmelite nun, the other a widow. By looking at John as priest, as pastoral minister, we may get insights that further the most exciting development in the post-Vatican II Church, the opening of pastoral ministry to all. People have been newly reminded that pastoral ministry is not solely an obligation assumed at ordination or religious profession, but a responsibility that flows from our baptism and confirmation. Specifically, John contributes a fresh way of conceiving a pastoral min-ister, not only a "wounded healer" as Henri Nouwen has suggested,I or a "skilled helper" in the phrase of Gerard Egan,2 but also as an "ardent lover," a phrase which I believe aptly captures John's practice of pastoral ministry. John's Preparation for Ministry In 1567 Juan de Yepes--known then in the Carmelite order as Juan de Santo Matfa or John of St. Matthias--was ordained to the priesthood in the university city of Salamanca. Shortly after, in his home town of Medina del Campo, he met for the first time Teresa of Avila, who persuaded him to forgo his plans to join the stricter Carthusian order in order to assist her in reforming their own Carmelites. John had already been involved in ministry before 1567. From 1556 to 1562, as an adolescent between the ages of fourteen and twenty, he lived in a hospital, where he served the sick as an orderly and begged alms for them in Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister / 805 the streets. He would continue to serve the sick faithfully throughout his life. But the two major events of 1567--his priestly ordination and his first meet-ing with Teresa~determined the character of his pastoral ministry until his death twenty-four years later, in 1591 at the age of forty-nine. Everything that took place in his life before 1567 was but a preparation for the variety of pastoral services he would perform as a priest and a close associate of Teresa of Jesus. John's remote preparation for ministry began early. He was raised in a single-parent home. His father, Gonzalo de Yepes, died from the effects of poverty and famine shortly after John's birth in 1542 in the small Castilian farming village of Fontiveros, twenty-five miles northwest of Avila. John's father had belonged to a noble Toledo family with a prosperous silk business. He left a promising career in the family business to marry John's mother, Catalina Alvarez, a "poor but beautiful" weaving girl originally from Toledo whom Gonzalo had met on one of his business trips. Because his family dis-owned him for marrying beneath his position in life, Gonzalo joined his wife as a weaver in order to make a living. Into these poor circumstances he and Catalina brought three sons in twelve years, John being the youngest. Undoubtedly, in the years following the death of her husband and also her second son, Luis, who died of malnutrition not long after his father, Catalina repeated again and again the lesson and example of her husband's life to her two surviving sons: "Love," she probably said to them, "demands giving everything, just as your father gave up everything for me." Because of their poverty, Catalina turned to the Church for help in rais-ing her youngest son. She placed John in a residential school for orphans and children of the poor.in Medina del Campo, where she moved her little family in 1551. There John would be fed, clothed, and taught the fundamentals of his religion, and would learn a trade. At fourteen he was placed in a hospital, where he came under the formative influence of its chaplain and administra-tor, Don Alonso Alvarez de Toledo. Don Alonso carefully guided the young John and made it possible for him to study the humanities in the Jesuit col-lege in Medina, where he graduated at the age of twenty-one. Shortly afterwards John entered the Carmelites in Medina. Although formed by the role modeling of a diocesan priest and formally educated by the Jesuits, John apparently chose to enter the Carmelites, a Marian and con-templative order, because of his devotion to the Virgin and to prayer. The University of Salamanca After his year's novitiate, the Carmelites sent him to the University of Salamanca for a four-year course in the arts and theology. In the mid-six- 1~06 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 teenth century, Salamanca was a leading center of ecclesiastical learning and at the height of a neo-Scholastic revival. Its faculty included great scholars such as Fray Luis de Le6n, the Augustinian poet and translator of Sacred Scripture, and learned Dominican commentators on the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. There John became proficient in Sacred Scripture, theolo-gy, and Thomistic psychology, three fields of study that would be essential for the years of ministry ahead of him. These three disciplines, together with his own personal experience, pro-vided the solid bases for the treatises on mystical theology he would later write. Almost every page of these writings contains quotations from the Bible. "Taking Scripture as our guide," he writes in the opening of The Ascent of Mount Carmel, "we do not err, since the Holy Spirit speaks to us through it" (Ascent, prologue, 2). His theology training reveals itself in his continual reminders that God is both transcendent and immanent, demanding that our relationship with God be based on faith and unceasing prayer. And in Thomistic psychology he found a conceptual tool to explain God's work in the human soul. For example, he used the Thomistic concept of active and passive intel-lect to explain this mysterious paradox: although we are limited in our intel-lectual ability to actively form adequate ideas of God, we are virtually unlimited in our capacity to passively receive God's own loving knowledge. Therefore, John taught that one of the major challenges of the spiritual jour-ney to union with God is to not allow our finite understanding of God to become an obstacle to receiving God's own infinite loving knowledge which he communicates to us in contemplation. John considered the knowledge of psychology to be of crucial impor-tance for the ministry of spiritual direction. Writing some twenty years later in his Living Flame of Love, he severely criticizes incompetent spiritual directors, not because their knowledge of theology and Scripture is inade-quate, but for their deficient knowledge of the human person. Because they fail to understand the full depths of the human "spirit" and its laws of opera-tion, incompetent spiritual directors hold persons in the stage of beginners in the spiritual life and never permit them to pass into the interior depths of the soul where God is leading them so that he may communicate with them and unite them totally with himself (Flame, 3.30ff, esp. 44 and 54). Preaching Following John's ordination to the priesthood and his commitment, approved by his religious superiors, to assist Teresa in her reform of Carmel, he was assigned by his provincial to the first reformed community of friars. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister it was located at Duruelo, a small crossroads in the Castilian plains west of Avila. There the friars lived an austere community life, joined with the min-istries of hearing confessions, preaching, and celebrating liturgies in neigh-boring villages. John was not kriown as a great preacher, although we may assume he preached regularly throughout his years of priestly ministry. None of his ser-mons has come down to us, but he does share his theological reflection on this ministry in The Ascent of Mount Carmel, written some fifteen years later. He says: The preacher., should., keep in mind that preaching is more a spiri-tual practice than a vocal one. For although it is practiced through exteri-or words, it has no force or efficacy save from the interior spirit. No matter how lofty the doctrine preached, or polished the rhetoric, or sub-lime the style in which the preaching is clothed, the profit does not ordi-narily increase because of these means in themselves; it comes from the spirit of the preacher. The profit is usually commensurate with the [preacher's] interior preparedness. It is commonly said that as the master, so usually is the disciple . We frequently see, insofar as it is possible to judge here below, that the better the life of the preacher the more abundant the fruit, no matter how lowly his style, poor his rhetoric, and plain the doctrine. For the living spirit enkindles fire. But when this spirit is wanting, the gain is small, however sublime the style and doctrine. Although it is true that good style, gestures, sublime doctrine, and well-chosen words are more moving and productive of effect when accompanied by this good spirit, yet, with-out it, even though delightful and pleasing to the senses and the intellect, the sermon imparts little or no devotion to the will (Ascent 3.45.1-4). Confessor and Spiritual Guide At Duruelo he also began what was eventually to become his primary ministry, forming souls as their confessor and spiritual guide, a ministry he carried on almost uninterruptedly for the next twenty-four years. He was appointed master of novices for the men who joined the reform. In the years that followed, he was successively master of Carmelite students at Alcal~i de Henares, spiritual director of St.Teresa for five years, regular weekly con-fessor to her 130 nuns in the monastery of the Incarnation in Avila, master of students at the Carmelite college in Baeza in Andalusia, and regular confes-sor to the Carmelite nuns in the convents at Beas, Granada, and Segovia. In addition to these assigned positions within the Carmelite order, he carried on an extensive ministry of spiritual direction with persons outside it. He served large numbers of men and women from every phase of the Christian life, from its earliest stage of conversion to the heights of mysti-cism. These persons included: young people seeking guidance and support in I~0~1 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 determining their vocation in life; men and women troubled by scrupulosity, excessive guilt, psychosomatic anxiety; profoundly disturbed hysterical and paranoid personalities manifesting bizarre forms of religious behavior; and those with the normal problems in the spiritual life such as temptations against God,s law, difficulties in prayer, and feelings of dryness, desolation, and emptiness. The biographical data indicate that John rendered his spiritual service "without distinction of persons." He welcomed all who came to him for help; both inside and outside the confessional--religious, clergy, laity, young and old, rich and poor. His ministry extended to the entire Christian commu-nity, not simply to an elite few who held positions of privilege in society or who enjoyed a reputation for exalted spirituality. From these historical records, I estimate that during one eighteen-month period in 1587-1588 in Andalusia his ministry as spiritual guide and confessor included nearly a thousand .persons in and outside the Carmelite order. With all he fostered the same goals: union with God; imitation of Jesus Christ; deeper faith, hope, and love; continu~il prayer and mortification 6f every desire not ordered to the love and service of God; transformation of the personality through contemplation. Administration As Teresa's reform progressed, her friars eventually became, in 1580, a separate province within the friars of the Ancient Observance a, nd, in 1588, a separate congregation with their own vicar-general. As these developments occurred, John's fellow friars called upon him to fulfill various administra-tive offices within the reform. In 1578 he was appointed local superior of the community at El Calvario in the Sierra de Cazorla mountains in Andalusia. The following year he o~ened the Carmelite seminary in the Andalusian city of Baeza and served as rector there until i582. In 1582 he began six years as prior of the friars' community in Granada, the last two years of which he also served as vicar-provincial for Andalusia. In 1588 he was appointed to a threeryear term on the order's general council, during which time he was also local superior of the friars' community in Segovia. For fourteen straight years he was deeply involved in the administration of a new and growing order, establishing new communities, building new monasteries, providing for the formation and education of new members, and making canonical visitations of communities of both friars and nuns. His most intense period of administrative activity was the two years from 1585 to 1587, when he was prior of the monastery in Granada and Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister vicar-provincial of Andalusia. He was thus responsible, not only for his own local community in Granada, but also for seven other monasteries of friars and five convents of nuns scattered over thirty thousand Andalusian square miles, from Caravaca in the east to Seville in the west, and from C6rdoba in the north to M~ilaga in the south. To visit each community at least once a year as his office required meant almost continual travel, by foot or by donkey, frequently under a blazing sun, over dusty, rugged, winding, and at times mountainous roads, spending nights sleeping in open fields or in boisterous roadside inns. Five years later, in June 1591, at the friars' general chapter in Madrid, the burdens of office--both of formation and administration--were lifted from John's shoulders for the first time in thirteen years. He was to prepare for the Mexican missions, a directive that was later rescinded. In September 1591, his leg became seriously infected, leading to the illness which brought his death on December 14, 1591. During the last five months of his life, he had the physica! solitude he craved since his ordination to the priesthood twenty-four years earlier. These few months were the first time since he was ordained, save for nearly a year when he was imprisoned in Toledo on a charge of disobedience to his Carmelite superiors, that~he was without active pastoral care of souls. He wrote to Sister Anne of Jesus Jimena in July 1591: "Being freed and relieved from the care of souls, I can, if I want, and with God's help, enjoy peace, solitude, and the delightful fruit of forgetfulness of self and of all things. It is also good for others that ! be separated from them, for thus they will be freed of the faults they would have committed on account of my misery." Writing John was now no longer in direct service to others, but indirectly he con-tinued his ministry through writing. Living in a small hermitage in the Sierra Morena mountains in Andalusia, he continued to provide spiritual direction through personal letters and worked on revisions of his two spiritual master-pieces, The Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame of Love. Both of these treatises were written for his directees, the former for the Carmelite nun Anne of Jesus Lobera and the latter for the lay woman Dofia Ana Pefialosa. Writing became for John, not a hobby, but an essential part of his pas-toral ministry. When a Carmelite nun once asked him if his poetic inspira-tions were from God, he replied, "Sometimes they came to me from God and at other times I sought them." John undoubtedly wrote during his early years in college and as a Carmelite. However, the writings we have today begin with his period of 810 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 imprisonment in Toledo and continue through the last thirteen years of his life, when he was between the ages of thirty-six and forty-nine. The nine-month imprisonment was the tragic result of conflicting jur!sdictions direct-ing the early days of Teresa's reform. This placed John in the. awkward position where fidelity to Teresa's reform, supported by the Holy See through the king of Spain, Philip II, appeared as di'sobedience to his Carmelite superiors, punishable by confinement in the monastery prison. In his prison cell in the Carmelite monastery at Toledo, John began his poem The Spiritual Canticle. Its opening lines sugges.t that poetry provided him a way of coping with the feelings of abandonment by God and spiritual desolation brought on by his imprisonment. He writes: Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning? You fled like the stag After wounding me; I went out calling You, and You were gone. However, in the years following his dramatic escape from Toledo, John continued to write poetry to express the deepest longings of his heart for God and to capture as best he could in human language his ineffable experi-ences of divine union. More than merely self-expression, John's poetry became pan of his ministry. His pedagogy involved sharing his poems with his Carmelite brothers and sisters and his directees to teach them about the human person's union with God. They, in turn, requested a fuller explanation of these teachings in prose. He responded with three major treatises in spiri-tuality- the prose commentaries on his poems The Dark Night, The Spiritual Canticle, and The Living Flame of Love. Had John not been involved in the ministry of spiritual direction, it is likely that we would still have his poetry, but not the prose commentaries which today, four centuries later, continue to provide reliable spiritual guidance to millions of readers of all faiths for the journey to union with God. A Man on the Move This overview of John of the Cross's ministry hardly leaves us with the image most have of him--a mystic on the mountaintop, with abundant soli-tude to explore his relationship with God and the leisure to write lyric poet-ry. Rather, we see a man on the move--preaching, hearing, confessions, providing spiritual guidance, studying the architectural plans and financial figures of new monasteries, at his desk writing for others; in short, a man deeply committed to pastoral ministry. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister / I~'1"1 True, by nature he was deeply introverted. His heart's desire was for solitude. He longed to be a solitary Carthusian before he met Teresa of Jesus, and when finally, after twenty-four years of pastoral ministry, he was free to be in a mountain hermitage, he wrote to Dofia Ana Pefialosa: "I am indeed very happy in this holy solitude." Nonetheless, his first commitment was to God, who called him out of himself to share his many gifts with others in pastoral ministry; in responding to this call, he discovered for himself the power and beauty of his own gifts. And these same gifts continue to be an enrichment for us all today. Jesus Christ, the Motive for John's Ministry John's ministry was not an outlet for an active temperament or a restless personality. It was, rather, his loving response to Jesus Christ, who was his Everything--"a brother, companion, master, ransom, and reward" (Ascent 2.22.5). John's ministry was his response to Jesus' love for him. In ministry he attempted to awaken others to Jesus' love for them. "Now we are telling you," John writes in his commentary on The Spiritual Canticle, "that you yourself are His dwelling and His secret chamber and hiding place . Since you know now that your desired Beloved lives hidden within your heart, strive to be really hidden with Him, and you will embrace Him within you and experience Him with loving affection" (Canticle 1.7 and 10). Jesus, too, was John's exemplar for ministry, especially in his kenosis, his self-emptying on the cross. From this John concluded that effective min-istry arises, not from a multiplicity of activity, but from union with Jesus' life-giving death. When he joined Teresa's reform, this insight prompted him to change his name from John of St. Matthias to John of the Cross. Later it led him to remind "true spiritual persons". "that their union with God and the greatness of the work they accomplish will be measured by their annihi-lation for God in the sensory and spiritual parts of their soul. [For] the jour-ney [to union with God] does not consist in recreations, experiences, and spiritual feelings, but in the living, sensory and spiritual, exterior and interi-or, death of the cross (Ascent 2.7.11). Mary, Model of Transformation John's experience of God's love in Jesus also determined his goal in ministry: to help persons let go of their inordinate attachments to creatures so that they might be free to receive the Creator's love into their lives, the divine love which both heals the effects of original sin and transforms human life into God's life. In this transformation, persons are united with the ~112 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 mind and heart of God. They respond to events in their lives with the mind and heart of Jesus. They are moved in everything by the Holy Spirit. In John's mind, the person who best embodies this transformation is the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is the "true daughter of God" in the passage quot-ed above. Furthermore, in The Ascent of Mount Carmel, describing the trans-formed Christian, John writes: "Such was the prayer and work of our Lady, the most glorious Virgin. Raised from the very beginning to this high state [of divine union and transformation in God], she never had the form of any creature impressed in her soul, nor was she moved by any, for she was always moved by the Holy Spirit" (Ascent 3.2.10). John's image of transformation was Mary, the Mother of Jesus. In his pastoral ministry he invited persons to imitate her simple faith in God so that they too might be transformed by the Holy Spirit. With this in mind he com-posed the following lyric that summarizes his entire spiritual doctrine: Del Verbo divino The Virgin, pregnant La Virgen prefiada With the Word of God, Viene de camino: Comes down the road: Si le dais posada. If only you'll shelter her. When we, like Mary, let go of everything that prevents us from being totally open to God's word, the Holy Spirit transforms us into her Son, the Word, Jesus. Two Difficulties Modem readers often have difficulty with John of the Cross's emphasis on purification through suffering. "Too negative," they say when they read a passage like this one from his Sayings of Light and Love: "God values in you an inclination to aridity and suffering for love of Him more than all possible consolations, spiritual visions, and meditations" (SLL 14). Yet anyone who has experienced the healing that comes from intense psychotherapy will, I think, appreciate the wisdom of this recommendation. For John, contempla-tion is, literally, psychotherapy--healing the soul. He is not teaching us how to arrive at ecstatic altered states of consciousness; rather, he is telling us how to heal the effects of original sin in our life. Effective psychotherapy demands a willingness to endure the pain that comes from an expanding awareness of our own ego-defense mechanisms and the consequent change of behavior necessary to break the compulsive repetition of self-defeating behavior. Similarly, John of the Cross explains that contemplation requires a readiness to accept the interior pain that accompanies a clearer insight into the disorder of our soul and our natural distance from the incomprehensible goodness of God. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister The healing of our souls begins when we open our lives to receive God's loving knowledge. We experience loving knowledge as a light, at times painful, which allows us to observe clearly the disorder that continues to operate in our daily lives. At the same time, this light lets us see as never before God's inexhaustible love for us. In this light we quite naturally let go of disordered attachments to our own self-interest (a letting go that brings the temporary pain of 1 oss and sadness) and become more attached to God's will, which ultimately brings peace to our inner lives, even as we deal with each day's problems. But even granting John's hypothesis that purification is a prerequisite for healing and transformation, many today still believe that his spiritual doctrine is too individualistic and exclusive, meant only for the few who choose an avowedly contemplative way of life. They see little relationship between his spirituality and the pressing social issues of our day, such as those addressed by the American bishops in their recent pastoral letters on peace and economic justice. Obviously, the issues John addressed four hundred years ago are not the same issues we face today, although sixteenth-century Spain was not without its wars and economic injustice. Nonetheless, Richard Hardy, one of John's modem biographers, has suggested new ways of interpreting his counsels on personal mortification that bring out their social significance. Addressing the Institute of Carmelite Studies in Boston a few years ago, Hardy pointed out this country's inordinate appetite for national security and an improved stan-dard of living, even while millions of our people live in poverty. In the face of this poverty, he suggested that John's counsels on the mortification of the emotions in order to dispose one's sensory life for union with God are also a prophetic social challenge to the American Church. Thus, St. John writes in The Ascent of Mount Carmel: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work;' not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty in everything in the world (Ascent 1.13.6). 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 These shocking words, directed to Carmelite religious in the sixteenth century committed by public vows to live in poverty, admittedly demand interpretation for Christians in twentieth-century America. Nevertheless, they challenge us, an affluent Christian community in a world where mil-lions are dying of starvation, to seek, not always the best and the most, but only the necessary, so that others in our world may also participate in their just share of the earth's goods, which God intends for all his children. Moreover, John teaches that when persons are deeply touched by God's love, their entire outlook on life is radically changed. Seeing now with God's eyes and feeling with Jesus' heart, they can no longer maintain racial preju-dices, exaggerated nationalism, or hearts closed to the world's suffering. The fruits of contemplation which John describes in his writings are precisely those which our bishops identify in their peace pastoral when they write: "The practice of contemplative prayer is especially valuable for advancing harmony and peace in the world. For this prayer rises, by divine grace, where there is total disarmament of the heart and unfolds in an experience of love which is the moving force of peace. Contemplation fosters a vision of the human family as united and interdependent in the mystery of God's love for all people" (The Challenge of Peace, no. 294). Conclusions What conclusions might we draw for pastoral ministry today from this review of John of the Cross's life and work? I suggest the following: 1. Preparation for ministry begins early in life, hopefully with baptism. Ministers for the Church will come forward from Christian families, parish-es, and schools where there is deep love, where serving others is a communi-cated value, and where role models and positive mentoring for ministry are present. 2. More immediate preparation for specialized ministries in the Church requires a solid grounding not only in Sacred Scripture and theology but especially in Christian anthropology, that is, a constant study, aided by human sciences, of the mystery of the human person in contemporary soci-ety. 3. Effective pastoral ministry, lay and ordained, depends first upon acquiring the skills necessary for a particular ministry and, second but more important, living daily Jesus' Paschal Mystery, the main source of effective ministry. 4. Christian ministers need clear images of Christian transformation to guide their activity, such as Mary, Mother of God and of the Church, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Faithful Disciple of Jesus, and Queen of Apostles. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister 5. The spirituality that empowers Christian ministry realistically appre-ciates both the effects of original sin in our lives and the presence of God's never failing love to heal us. This spirituality seeks to overcome artificial dichotomies that undermine ministry, such as opposing social action and contemplative prayer, pastoral activity and artistic creativity. It encourages persons to bring forward under the guidance of the Holy Spirit their unique gifts for the building of Christ's Body, confident that such sharing of gifts leads to the discovery and realization of one's total person. Pastoral Minister as Ardent Lover Earlier I suggested that John inspires an image of the pastoral minister as an ardent lover. The Holy Spirit set him on fire with love for God, other persons, and all creation. Fire was John's most comprehensive symbol, as Professor Keith Egan demonstrated in his address to Carmel 200, the sym-posium in Baltimore in August 1990 honoring two hundred years of Carmelites in the United States.3 As a metaphor, fire suggests the purifica-tion of soul symbolized by "the dark night"; it also captures the mutual pas-sionate love of God and the human person conveyed through the erotic images of spiritual betrothal and marriage in the Spiritual Canticle. As a consuming fire slowly transforms a log into itself, so the Holy Spirit, the Living Flame of Love (Flame 1.3), transforms us into God, leaving us on fire with divine love for his people. The Church always needs pastoral ministers on fire with the love of the Holy Spirit, but never more than today in the United States. Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee recently underscored the enervating polar-ization in the American Catholic community which hardens us into opposing ecclesiologies, unwilling to dialogue with one another, unable to tolerate dif-ferences, afraid to compromise in order to find a common way together.4 Pastoral ministry obviously must try to resolve our present polarities, not reinforce them. We are not likely to do this without the fire of God's love burning in our hearts, a love that results from a contemplative openness to God. In the Carmel 200 celebration mentioned above, Father Joseph Chinnici, O.EM., historian of American spirituality and currently provincial of the California Franciscans, offered the opinion that the failure since 1700 to cul-tivate the contemplative dimension of Christian life accounts in large mea-sure, not only for "our contemporary groping for a stable spiritual center," but also "for the stridency in today's Catholic community.''5 For years Thomas Merton alerted us to the dangers of this neglect, but only now are we seeing clearly our spiritual impoverishment as a Church and our need I~16 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 each day for God's wisdom and love, which, as St. John of the Cross teach-es, is contemplation's gift. In 1591, following the general chapter of the Teresian friars at Madrid, a Carmelite nunin Segovia, Maria of the Incarnation, wrote to John deploring the shabby treatment he received from his brothers in the reform who deprived him of all offic~ and planned to mission him to Mexico in return for his outspoken opposition to the policies of Father Nicholas Doria, the vicar-general, regarding Jerome Graci~in and the government of the Carmelite nuns. John wrote back on July 6, 1591: ". do not let what is happening to me, daughter, cause you any g.rief, for it does not cause me any. ¯. Men do not do these things, but God, who knows what is suitable for us and arranges things for our good. Think nothing else but that God ordains all, and where there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love . " Considering the circumstances in which they were written, these words bespeak the effects of contemplation in John of the Cross--a transformed consciousness and a nonviolent heart. They, perhaps more than anything else he wrote, cha.llenge the Catholic Church in the United States today. NOTES I Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society (Garden City, N.Y.: Imag~ Books, 1979). 2 Gerard Egan, The Skilled Helper: Models, Skills, and Methods for Effective Helping, 2nd edition (Monterey, Calif.: Brooks/Cole Publishing Co., 1982). 3 Keith Egan, "The Fire of Love: John of the Cross' Central Symbol of Contemplative Identity." Lecture given at Carmel 200: Contemp.lation and the Rediscovery of the American Soul, sponsored by the Carmelite nuns of Baltimore, held at Loyola College, Baltimore, August 12-18, 1990. 4 Rembert G. Weakland, O.S.B., "From Dream to Reality to Vision." Address given to the Future of the American Church conference, sponsored by Time Consultants, Washington D.C., Sept. 28, 1990. Printed in Origins 20, no. 18 (October 11, 1990): 289-293 5 Joseph P. Chinnici, O.EM., "The Politics of Mysticism: Church, State, and the Carmelite Tradition." Lecture at Carmel 200, Baltimore, August 12-18, 1990~ Messiaenic Epiphany: . amidst animals, Love is born Stephen Schloesser, S.J. Mr. Schloesser is a transitional deacon studying theology at Weston Co!lege. He resides at 15 Avon Street; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. The nineteenth and twentieth centuries, in their most profound manifestations, are centuries which have tried to live without tran-scendence. How to live without grace--that is the question that dominates the nineteenth century. The question of the twentieth cen-tury., has gradually been specified: how to live without grace and without justice? --Albert Camus, The Rebel (1951) I would like to stress the need for the Church today to be aware of its duty to bring to the world a sense of the sacred and the transcendent., i. In this way we can show to the world that we are a sign of something which is more meaning,ful and more complete than just the daily tragedies that all of us must face. --Rembert Weakland, "25 Years after the Council" (1990) A friend stopped me after class the other day and said, "You like twentieth-century organ music, don't you?" Grateful at last that life had sent a soul partner to accompany me on my solitary journey, I eagerly replied, "Yes! Do you? . No," she answered, "but a friend gave me a CD of Christmas music for the organ. I can't stand it. If you want it you can l~ave it." I took the disc gratefully and set out again on my journey, solitary still, but with a mission-ary's fervor. Twentieth-century music in general tends to distend: for lush romantic strings it seemingly substitutes barbed wire; for pastoral horns the intermit-tent siren. It attempts to speak in language too deep for words those feelings we prefer left unsaid: confusion in the face of chaos; despair over life's daily 817 I~1t~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 deaths; horror in the face of human atrocity. Twentieth-century music in gen-eral tends to express our culture's deepest pulses: a world seemingly devoid of grace and justice. And what about twentieth-century church music? The church music composer-historian Erik Routley once wrote that all authentically twentieth-century church music contains within its score a certain measure of "skepti-cism." I think he is right here, but in this Christmastide I suggest a more seasonal term: a certain measure of "scandal"; the "stumbling block" of the manger. For what faced the European church musicians after the Great War was nothing less than the scandal of Christianity: incarnation, cross, grace-- the works. How do church musicians remain faithful both to their experience of violence--this race, this culture, this epoch--and, at the same time, to their vision of confidence in Love's promise to triumph? Many--perhaps most--solve this dilemma (as so many of us do) by simply choosing one or the other, confidence or despair. We--players and listeners alike--are numbed by the banality or bludgeoned by the bombast. Yet, as Archbishop Rembert Weakland said once in an Advent homily, Christian liturgy (and the vision it ritualizes) insists that we always keep in mind both terms of the dialectic. At Christmas, we remember the price in Gethsemane of becoming human; on Good Friday, we remember the promise proclaimed at Easter. When our liturgy expresses joy unbridled by the mem-ory of death-~or grief unbalanced by the hope of resurrection--we have for-gotten the paradox: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. Whereas the French composer Claude Debussy had painted impression-istic passage.s, conveying the evanescence of time lost with large lush ensembles, the young Parisian Olivier Messiaen turned his attention to the other pole: he attempted time out of time. Messiaen discovered the genius unique to the organ: it can convey the illusion of eternity. The bang of a drum punctuates; the vibration of a piano wire inevitably dies; the singer must come up for air. But the organ, as Igor Stravinsky complained, is "the monster that does not breathe." In the organ, Messiaen and many after him found a new way of inviting the listener to experience the transcendent. On the other hand, these musicians were twentieth-century citizens, very much situated in history. The organ lost a genius when the young Jehan Alain was killed in the defense of France. The German Paul Hindemith fled to the United States under Nazi persecution while choral composer Hugo Distler took his own life under the same. Olivier Messiaen wrote and pre-miered his "Quartet for the End of Time"--beginning with "the harmonious silence of heaven"---while imprisoned in a German POW camp. They knew Messiaenic Epiphany / 8~9 firsthand the human potential for savagery, a fragile culture's collapse, the seeming triumph of death. Thus, they also employed the musical language of our time: barbed wire, screaming sirens, carefully constructed cacophony. Writing church music, they attempted to convey in their medium the experience of Christmas: that, in the midst of life's bleak midwinter, there lives "the dearest freshness deep down things." Their fusion of the languages of transcendence and of skepticism resulted in a radically new musical lan-guage, a nearly hypostatic union. In the midst of scandal (which their music never sidesteps), they stood apart from the aleatoric vogue, firm in hopeful trust, rooted in their vision of the immanent transcendent: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. I am glad for the gift of the CD, and I plan on listening to it this season. Not, of course, over Christmas dinner or while opening gifts under the tree or while rocking my niece to sleep in front of the crackling fire. For that I will listen to "The Messiah" or to the kids from King's College, or my moth-er will put on Nat King Cole or my father Johnny Cash . And not, of course, when the snow silently piles outside my Cambridge window, weigh-ing down the boughs as books weigh down me, streetlights highlighting Victorian crannies on neighboring homes. For that kind of delicious melan-choly only George Winston's "December" will do. I mean rather when I turn off the lights and light a candle, wrap a blan-ket round and stare into nothing: that is when I will play my new CD. Time and timelessness, scandal and hopeful trust, death and Love. I will think about them--Nazis and world war and concentration camps; and I will think about us---death squads and desert storms and Mount Pinatubo; and I will think about home--grandfather's Alzheimer's and grandmother's grief, a cousin's suicide, a friend's AIDS: "the daily tragedies that all of us must face." And then, I hope, as for magi on a journey to a manger, scanning the midwinter sky, it will light up the night, the sudden onslaught of insight-- the Epiphany--those artists attempted to convey: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. 820 Monastic Ruminations I. Spring." The Russian Olive Tree in Meditation Park "The affection of love is a delicate plant. " --Gilbert of Hoyland Silver smells whiff past me, into me, Byzantine incense, perfume from a bazaar, a solitary pearled tree in the park odors the mind with deja vued dusty dreams shelved from disuse. Sable Lent fades into resurrected dappled blooms, the Russian Olive shimmers in newborn light, morning dew kisses its hoary-haired branches, while it speaks in hushed tones of hidden presence. II. Summer: Locust Trees along the Academy Entrance "Unity consists in singleness of love." --Bernard of Clairvaux Standing at attention, locust trees reach skyward, stretching limbs into lowlying clouds, each arm delicate, broken by storms, battered by winter's ice, survivors sentineled. Breezes sway the foliage to an unheard melody, rhythmically touching the tips of treed tendons, digits gnarled by seasonal change, each tree soloed, a monk reaching for God, separate, yet partnered, facing each day together yet aloned. 821 IlI. Autumn: The Monastic Cemetery "The treasure of our love is hidden in the field of our heart and lies buried in its very depth." --John of Ford The colors are deep across the valley-- red, burnt orange, yellow. Each vibrant tree grasping my throat and choking my breath away, death is viewed, keeping itself daily before our eyes. Fallen leafs encircle my feet, drawing my eyes to the stones neatly rowed, each with a face, a person I knew, a laugh recalling the past, now silent, earthbound, yet rejoicing beyond the eye. IV. Winter: Leafs Trapped in Collins Court "Love is solid. It may be fretted by annoyance, but it simply cannot be worn away." --John of Ford Leafs trapped within the courtyard beat bird-like against the mirrored windows, trying to escape the battering wind, fluttering desperately, vortexing, rising and falling, yet free. Columns rise, Stonehenge revisited, standing guard over the spectacle, silent seers, mutely observing the abused leafs, hostaged too, but immobile, the stationary monoliths envy the leafs bound nowhere yet unfettered. Benedict Auer, O.S.B. Saint Martin's College Lacey, Washington 98503 Song of the Groom: Spiritual Marriage and Masculinity Robert Annechino Robert Annechino has completed the graduate program in spiritual direction at the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, Washington, D.C. This article is taken from a paper written for the program. He is married and the father of three children, and is writing a book on masculine romantic spirituality. Correspondence would be wel-come at P.O. Box 14039; Rochester, New York 14614. All Christians have heard God addressed as "Father." Today we sometimes also hear God called upon as "Mother." In our mystical literature there is a long tradition that speaks of God or Christ as the "Bridegroom" of the soul. This article considers something we have heard next to nothing about: a Christian mystical experience that celebrates God as "Bride." Admittedly, such an idea seems peculiar at first, but perhaps its very anomaly is even more peculiar. Why has not Christianity admitted such a tradition when, as we shall see, many world religions have? How might an appreciation of the Divine Bride expand our understanding of God, of religious experience, and of ourselves as spiritual, social, and sexual beings, male and female? The awareness of God as Mother has been a gift and challenge of femi-nist spirituality. This alternate feminine image of God as the Divine Bride derives from the quest for an authentic contemporary masculine spirituality. Reflection by men on our experience as men will free us from the myopic assumption that male experience is normative of all human experience, and will bring the unique features of masculinity into sharp focus. To understand and revitalize the spiritual life of contemporary men, it is important to con-sider how we customarily recognize both maleness and holiness and how these conceptions connect and conflict. Richard Rohr, James Nelson, and John Carmody are some of the teachers who have explored male experiences of Christian faith and values. 822 Song of the Groom / 823 As evident in the work of Robert Bly and Robert Moore, an essential element of the men's movement is the recovery of the archetypes or models of male experience, which typify distinctive themes of male identity. Through the exploration of such heroic figures as the Wild Man, the King, the Warrior, the Trickster, the Lover, the Grief Man, and the Quester (which Robert Bly has aptly called the "Great Joys of Men"), contemporary men are gaining new understanding of their maleness and of the social expectations and personal conflicts which shape them. In Toward a Male Spirituality, John Carmody encourages men to come to God in and through the kinds of relationships that reflect the best of male experience, finding God as buddy, father, brother. He also seeks to open men to the possib!lity of finding God the Holy Spirit as the divine lover, in a spirituality of romancing,l But here, in the attempt to engage male romantic love as a spiritual symbol, we run into a barrier that challenges traditional Christian notions. This barrier has also been noted by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette in their book on the four major male archetypes, King, Warrior, Magician, Lover. Of these, they feel that the Lover has been the most repressed within Western religion. They describe the giftedness of the Lover so: For the man accessing the Lover, all things are bound to each other in mysterious ways. He sees, as we say, "the world in a grain of sand." This is the consciousness that knew long before the invention of holography that we live, in fact, in a "holographic" universe---one in which every pa~t, reflects every other in immediate and sympathetic union. It isn't just that the Lover energy sees the world in a grain of sand. He feels that this is so.2 The mature energy of the Lover is not exclusively nor even primarily expressed through sexual activity, but as a royal dignity which suffuses the entire person with gladness of heart and warm richness of being. While the Lover has never been articulated well for Christian women or men, I believe that histor!cally there has been a particular reluctanc~ to incorporate male erotic energy into religious expression, and this history needs to be under-stood and redressed. In a recent book on the feminist rhetoric of St. Teresa of Avila, Alison Weber maintains that medieval spirituality systematized two major images of the mystical journey.3 The first was .the sponsa Christi, the bride of Chris.t, an image drawn from the conventional feminine experience of romantic love and marriage. The second image was the miles Christi, the soldier of Christ, derived from the conventional male experience of war. In the sponsa Christi or bridal mysticism, we find that from the time of Origen the Song of Songs was lavishly allegorized as the mystical union of the soul, personified by the 1~24 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 Shulammite damsel, with the Lord as the shepherd/king. This imagery evolved into the classical descriptions of spiritual betrothals and spiritual marriage. It is certainly true that throughout the history of Christian spiritu-ality such imagery has been evoked by men as well as by women. In fact, most of its known expositors were male (since literature was a male domain). Yet today, when feminist theologians have tightly insisted that we consider the limitations levied by exclusive masculine language in relation to God, we might also ponder what diminishment lurks in the imagery of bridal mysticism. Why have men relied upon the erotic imagery of women to describe their love for God? Why is there no "bridegroom mysticism" call-ing up.on the natural erotic imagery of men? What would it take, and what would it mean, for Christian men to become free to pursue God as their Divine Bride? Bridegroom Mysticism: The Male Mysteries of God and Men At this point it is important to ask: Does it really matter whether we con-ceive of God as Father, Mother, Bridegroom, Bride, or in any of the person-al, transpersonal, or nonpersonal figures that have dawned in human consciousness as we encounter the great Mystery? If we give too much attention to the name, will God cease to be Mystery? I believe that the name only enhances the Mystery. If God is God, then the God of the naming is not different from the God of experiencing. Feminist theologians have wisely recognized that naming God is an act of self-revelation as well as God's rev-elation to us. With this in mind, let us consider what it means for men to name God as Father, Mother, and Bridegroom and then consider the alterna-tives of knowing God as the Divine Bride. Mary and Leon J. Podles, in an interesting article denouncing the "emas-culation of God," protest that the male image of God cannot be dispensed with arbitrarily. God the Father, they say, is a God of transcendence, stand-ing distinct from his creation, having created it in a male act of separation from himself: Why is God the Father a Father and not a mother? Maleness is a symbol of transcendence because the fundamental male experience, thal~ of fatherhood, of reproduction through ejaculation, is one of separation, while the fundamental female experience is one of prolonged and inti-mate union with the offspring through the long months of gestation and nursing. The male experience of the world is one of "either/or," "this, and not that," one of separation.4 The male image of God engages essential aspects of the male identity, which cannot be denied without denying the life quest of men. As many Song of the Groom / 895 writers have pointed out, male identity is usually first discovered in an act of distinction and separation.5 The little girl experiences continuity with her mother, their femininity uniting them (with both positive and toxic bonds). But the little boy becomes aware of his masculinity as being a difference between him and the close nurturing mother, and thus begins the male quest of distinction and separation. With this comes the need for the boy to affirm his maleness by connecting with his father. From here ensues the whole dynamic of dependence, independence, and eventual interdependence that are typical of healthy male development experiences that perhaps figure in the religious motifs of exile and redemption. And yet, while the maleness of God does engage these crucial aspects of men's experience, there is a subtle but clear possibility that it can also limit a man's sense of masculinity before God. The Podles' article, for example, refers to the Father God as "the Creator, before whom all else is female.''6 The inevitable presumption is that, if God is considered male, then all cre-ation, including humanity, is essentially feminine. Ironically, this might leave men castrated before God, their maleness exiling them from the "femi-nine" creation. As James Nelson has said: When God became male, males were divinized, and patriarchy had cos-mic blessing. At the same time we have resisted that one-sided masculin-ized deity, for a male God suggests to men their feminization. Language referring to the Church has long been feminized: "She is his new creation by water and the word." All of us, men as well as women, are "she's" when it comes to being the Church. That feels uncomfortable. Furthermore, a male God penetrates us. But to be penetrated by anyone or anything, even God, amounts to being womanized. It seems tanta-mount to a man's degradation, literally a loss of grade or status.7 Notions of "female submission" toward God have pervaded all of Christian spirituality, from pious popular devotions to the most rarefied con-templation. Even if he has not been exposed to the literature of bridal mysti-cism, consider what it has meant for ~i man; standing amid generations of male Christian mystics, to sense himself in a feminine role in relation to God. What does this imply about his maleness? The lavish descriptions of bridal mysticism, in which the feminine soul is wooed by the celestial Bridegroom, violate his natural desire as a man. Jungians may discern here the emergence of the inner anima, the feminine side of the male. But even if this were the case, what other problems are invoked in such an approach? Arthur Green has asked some important questions along this line: Is it really only women alone who are in need of feminine imagery? Do images of the divine feminine belong only to women? Might they not 826 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 belong to, and respond to the needs of, men as well as women? Or, as a friend posed the question a long time ago, with reference to Catholic spiritual literature, does Teresa of Avila need to be the bride of God more than John of the Cross? Does John need God the Father more than God the Mother? Indeed, is it Mother whom the passionat~ Teresa seeks so boldly? Might one not argue that men need the feminine, as women need the masculine, if religious life involves something like what the depth psychologists call a search for.polarities? In the course of our intense longing for the divine Other, a longing long depicted as having a strong erotic component, might it not be opposite rather than like that needs first to be sought out?8 And, while feminist theologians have contributed an important under-standing of the Divine Mother, the uncritical acceptance of God as Mother still may not fully open the feminiriity Of God to adult men. Robert Bly affirms that a man's encounter with the holy feminine, the "meeting with the gbd-woman in the garden," is a step beyond the parental drama: W~ can't stop the story here, because the feminine has not yet appeared. His mother, as the maternal form of the feminine, he has of course expe-rienced, but that is all. And now he is about to meet the feminine in a nonmatemal form~ in its powerful, blossoming, savvy, wild, instigating, erotic, playful form.9 In God the Bride, we find a fully femii~ine expression of divinity, one who preserves for men the essential Otherness that is so integral to their psy-che. As Bride, God is even more "Other" than Father, yet it is an otherness which is fantastically attractive, and invites the man to participation and union. The Divine Bride welcomes a mal6 spiritual identity that is fully adult and ~ully masculine. Bridegroom Spirituality and the "Way of the Warrior" Now let us turn briefly to Alison Weber's second image of classical Christian mysticism, the image of the miles Christi, the soldii~r of Christ, a mas~tiline image that has found wide expression historically, from the ladder mysticism of John Climacus, through the service mysticism of Ignatius LoyolL Today one might well ask if this militant motif, in an age of nuclear and chemical weapons, terrorism, and environmental desecration, is at all appropriate. But here the expositors of what has been called "the way of the warrior" must challenge, nuance, and explain such imagery. The passionate denial of ~he flesh in an intent focus upon. a goal is a real and necessary aspect of human life, and it is fitting that it find expression in the mystical "way of the warrior." Many men and women relate vitally to God on this path, at least for a good part of their lives. The "call of the King" in Ignatius Song of the Groom / 827 Loyola's Spiritual Exercises presents a spirituality that springs from this rich sense of participation and mission. Some expositors of male spirituality seem to equate it exclusively with the way of the warrior, but the male "way of the lover" (bridegroom mysti-cism) is both a complement and an alternative to the way of the warrior. While it may be important to question the limitations of the miles Christi, it is emphatically not the role of bridegroom mysticism to neutralize or domes-ticate the way of the warrior, but to enhance, inflame, and fulfill it. The way of the warrior celebrates a clearly focused intent to uphold righteousness regardless of personal cost. This fervent passion unites the way of the war-rior with the way of love. But the miles Christi can become morbid if it arbi-trarily divorces itself from love, in any of its forms, including the erotic. Such denial inflicts a cramped, neurotic quest for control, a pseudospirituali-ty that is myopically fixated and incapable of the panoramic awareness exer-cised by the true warrior. Sadly, such diminishment has all too often been the conventional model of holiness, reflected in a celibacy that is sterile rather than full, in the collapsed mentality described by Alan Watts: The opposition of spirit to both nature and sexuality is the opposition of the conscious will, of the ego, to that which it cannot control. If sexual abstinence is, as in so many spiritual traditions, the condition of enhanced consciousness, it is because consciousness as we know it is an act of restraint . This is clearly the reaction of one for whom the soul, the will, the spiritual part of man, identified with that form of conscious-ness which we have seen to be a partial and exclusive mode of attention. It is the mode of attention which grasps and orders the world by seeing it as one-at-a-time things, excluding and ignoring the rest . Obviously, '~he sexual function is one of the most powerfu| biological manifes'ta'tions of biological spontaneity, and thus more especially difficult for the will to control . But this mode of control is a peculiar example of the proverb that nothing fails like success. For the more consciousness is individualized by the success of the will, the more everything outside the individual seems to be a threat--including not only the external world but also the "external" and uncontrolled spontaneity of one's own body. ¯. Hence there arises the desire to protect the ego from an alien spontane-ity by withdrawal from the natural world into a realm of pure conscious-ness or spirit.~° The Divine Bride brings men the gift of seeing the totality within the par-ticular, and the particular within the totality. She wards off all brittle reduc-tionism. Nor does She allow the will to sink into a quietist slumber. Rather She preserves full intentionality of the will, but in a mode that Gerald May aptly describes as open "willingness" rather than compulsive "willfulness.''11 While the impulse to relate to God as Bride has not been entirely absent t~91~ Review for Religious, November-December 1991 in Christian mysticism, it is certainly not in the mainstream of our tradition. For historical models we must turn to its expressions in other religious tradi-tions, and explore some out-of-the-way territories in our own history. But the love-quest for God the Bride is worthy of our attention. The Divine Bride in Non-Christian Traditions In the Jewish writings we meet the evocative figure of Wisdom, as expressed in the book of Proverbs and throughout the Scriptures. Wisdom emerges not as an abstract attribute of God, but as a mysterious and primor-dial Woman. In Proverbs, she boasts her own preeminence in her dalliance with Yahweh: "When He laid down the foundations of the earth, I was by His side, a master craftsman, delighting Him day after day, ever at play in His presence, at play everywhere in His world, delighting to be with the sons of men" (Pr 8:29-31). In the Wisdom literature we read how those who love the Lord also take Wisdom as their own: "She [Wisdom] it was I loved and searched for from my youth; I resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Ws 8:2). In Western Christian exegesis, Wisdom was identified with the Logos, or as a personification of an attribute of God. But within the Jewish tradition the figure of Wisdom evolved into Shekhinah, the Presence or Dwelling of divinity. Among the Kabbalistic Jews in the thirteenth century, She was esteemed as no less than a divine hypostasis, the feminine consort of the . Lord. The eminent Kabbalistic scholar Gershom Scholem regards this as one of the most powerful and far-reaching insights of Jewish mysticism.12 The recognition of Shekhinah was not only an intellectual triumph, but also ennobled human sexual love as an emanation of and participation in the divine love between the Lord and His consort Shekhinah. The Christian father Clement would idealize the forty days of Moses on Sinai as time of continent chastity and use this example to justify detailed restrictions on sex-ual expression within marriage.13 But, in the Kabbalistic literature, Moses was said to have joined with Shekhinah, the very consort of God, on Sinai. According to Kabbalistic teaching, in the course of creation the Lord became mysteriously and redemptively alienated from Shekhinah, but sexual inter-course within marriage helps to reestablish God's unity, as men and women participate in the divine harmonic interplay of male and female. The Jewish wife and husband were invited to enjoy their Sabbath lovemaking as a con-templative act, their delight ever expanding to embrace them, their progeny, and their ancestors and continuing as blessing to all the Jewish people, to all of humanity throughout creation, ultimately bringing healing into the very Song of the Groom / 829 heart of a wounded, yearning God. Speaking of the Sabbath celebration, a celebration that was climaxed by sexual intercourse between husband and wife, Scholem has said, "A strange twilight atmosphere made possible an almost complete identification of the Shekhinah, not only with the Queen of Sabbath, but also with every Jewish housewife who celebrates the Sabbath.'q4 In the spirituality of Islam, the beauty of Allah has been identified with the charm of women. The Islamic mystics, or Sufis, could be quite ascetic, and sometimes shared with other Muslims a marked suspicion towards women (although at least one contemporary scholar of Islam, Annemarie Schimmel, has stated that such notions never reached the pitch of medieval Christian misogyny~5). But this did not deter the Sufis from also recognizing femininity as a revelation of God. A notable example is the illustrious Sufi master Ibn ai-'Arabi (1165-1240), perhaps the greatest mystical expositor of Islam. As a youth he had two women saints among his teachers. On his pil-grimage to Mecca at the age of thirty-six, he became enamored of an intelli-gent and beautiful Persian maiden. Recognizing the love of God suffused within the thralls of his human passion, he composed The Interpretation of Desire (Tarjuman aI-Ashwaq), an ode addressed to Allah as his beloved Lady. A few lines of one of his love songs to God display this eloquently: O, her beauty--the tender maid! Its brilliance gives light like lamps to one traveling in the dark. She is a pearl hidden in a shell of hair as black as jet, A pearl for which Thought dives and remains unceasingly in the deeps of that ocean. He who looks upon her deems her to be a gazelle of the sand-hills, because of her shapely neck and the loveliness of her gestures.~6 In a later work, The Bezels of Wisdom, Ibn al'Arabi taught that a man sees the divine most perfectly by contemplating the feminine. The man who enters sexual embrace in this knowledge finds much more than the satisfac-tion of a fleeting lust, but enters the play of divine pleasure. "If he knew the truth," Ibn al-'Arabi wrote, "he would know Whom it is he is enjoying and Who it is Who is the enjoyer; then he would be perfected.''17 Notice that here, as in the Kabbalah, erotic experience has been evoked both as a simile of divine love and as a sacrament divinizing the love experienced between a man and a woman. The Tantric schools of Hinduism and Buddhism view the world as a liv-ing matrix of divine energy. "Tantra" literally means continuity or inter-weaving, and the Tantric teachings skillfully reveal the existential and mystical consistencies that pervade the seamless but diverse fabric of life. 8~0 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 Even our neurotic bewilderments and obsessions contain seeds of transform-ing energy.18 Tantric contemplation enrolls all facets of human experience as skillful means to spiritual freedom, and the sexual faculty is not excluded. In the higher Tantras the Buddhas are imaged in intimate sexual embrace with their Prajna or Wisdom consorts, the female Buddha embodying authentic multidimensional vision and the male Buddha incarnating compassionate action. For those with the right preparation, initiation, and guidance of a qualified guru, the energy of sexual union is evoked in an explosive revela-tion of divine creative potential. 19 Those who enter this path encounter the divine feminine principle as the Dakini (Sanskrit--or, in Tibetan, khandro--literally "sky-dancer"). The Dakini is lovely, enticing, and challenging and sometimes comes in a horrif-ic guise, exercising a startling energy that cuts through behavioral obses-sions. The Dakini, who may become manifest as an archetypal figure or an actual woman of wisdom, avails Her fully realized femininity to move the contemplative beyond his exclusionary mode of consciousness toward one that is panoramic and involved in the full potentiality of life. To disengage him from habitual values, She may sabotage the yogi's self-righteousness. In several tales, an abstemious, scholarly monk enters the higher Tantric path when the Dakini approached with wine, meat, or the offer of sexual rela-tions, all of which are of course forbidden in the lesser path of renuncia-tion-- a fascinating rendition of the "female temptress" motif in that the male is tempted toward fuller life. To obtain the blessing of the Dakini, the con-templative needs to revere, court, and withstand Her, in short, to fully romance Her. As a contemporary Tibetan teacher said: The playful maiden is all-present. She loves you. She hates you. Without her your life would be continual boredom. But she continually plays tricks on you. When you want to get rid of her she clings. To get rid of her is to get rid of your own body--she is that close. In Tantric literature she is referred to as the dakini principle. The dakini is playful. She gam-bles with your life.2° In Taoism, also, the universe is seen to function according to the inter-play of male and female energies, the yang and the yin. A loving relationship between a man and woman serves to integrate the body-mind continuum of each with the universal dynamic of life. The Taoist texts give men explicit and detailed instruction on the encounter with the feminine, and a yogic approach to sexual experience that engages these profound energies. Christian Expressions of Bridegroom Spirituality In the gospels Jesus is proclaimed as Bridegroom, and one would hope Song of the Groom / 831 that the apostolic Church would have cultivated a view of marriage as a way of the Spirit, with an appropriate bridegroom spirituality. But a search here is somewhat disappointing. In The Body and Society, Peter Brown surveys the place accorded to marriage in early Christian thought, in context with the developing ideal of virginity.21 Rejecting the Jewish and Roman ideals of marriage, some of the more far-flung Christian bodies in apostolic times expected that all sexual activity, even within marriage, would cease upon baptism. Even the authentic Pauline writings, particularly 1 Corinthians, favor the ideal of celibacy, allowing marriage as a concession to the weak. Perhaps in reaction to the havoc created within families by the more ascetic model, the later Pauline corpus, particularly the pastoral letters, domesticat-ed this view, giving a conventional nod to the probity of marriage. Surpassing all of these is the notable passage in Ephesians 5:25-33, which is remarkable for its strong affirmation of male marital love: in the love of his wife, a man conforms himself to Christ as the Bridegroom of the Church. The marital eml~race is depicted as not only pure but purifying, a self-giving that ennobles both partners. Here was a wonderful foundation for the growth of a future bridegroom mysticism. However, the patristic era did not see the unfolding of marriage as a way of the spirit, but preferred celibacy as the ideal for a perfected life. By the close of the patristic period, the celibate ideal was firmly settled, and an allegorical bridal mysticism began to bloom. Doubtlessly, the sterling figure of Mary often came to stand in for the feminine aspect of the Divine. Her perpetual virginity was a rapt model of chastity, yet occasionally her devotees have found stirrings of a tender, more sensual love toward her. Bernard of Clairvaux, for example, was an eloquent and profound expositor of bridal mysticism, yet he also reported that the Virgin would come and embrace him warmly, as words of love would pour forth to her: "My Love! My Love! Let me ever love thee from the depths of my heart!''22 Later, in the time of Henry Suso (1295-1366), it was the custom of the young men in his native German town to serenade their sweethearts at the New Year. Henry reportedly followed suit by singing stirring love songs to the figure of the Madonna in the town square.23 One thinks, too, of Francis of Assisi in his romance of Lady Poverty. In fact, by adopting the mission of "troubadour of the Lord," Francis drew upon a movement that fostered bridegroom spirituality at a time when the Church would not recognize it: the emergence of courtly love and romance. In Love in the Western World, Denis de Rougemont traced the close development between the emergence of romance and the heterodox spiritual movement known as Albigen-sianism. 24 The troubadours were evangelists of the movement, and through 1~2 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 their odes of love and honor, human and divine love were integrated, so that spiritual love was given a human face and human love was elevated to a divine dimension. The Provenqal troubadours courted God as the divine fem-inine, dazzled by Her beauty and charm. The movement found expression in chivalry, literature, and the arts, making amorous love a respectable topic for prayer. One thinks, for example, of the tale of Tristan and Iseult and of the ~vorshipful manner~ 6f courtly love. It is curious that during this time, too, interest arose in spiritual friendships between men and women, such .as the chaste love of Francis and Clare or the more ~ultry and tragic affair of Abelard and Hrlolse. In his love of Beatrice, Dante fotind a revelation of divine mystery. Later the heritage would still be alive in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet: the young lovers meet at the masqu.e and express their love in an extended metaphor of worship, pilgrimage, and liturgy. It was during the medieval period, too, that the art of alchemy was intro-duced from northern Africa and taken up by Christian scholars. As Carl Jung's colleague Marie-Louise von Franz has exhaustively discussed,25 Western alchemy did not emerge as a primitive attempt at chemistry, but as a comprehensive map of inner transformation. Alchemy preserved psychologi-cal symboli.sm that was excluded from mainstream Christian mysticism, ificluding a sophisticated contrasexual integration. By the time of the Renaissance, interest in the Kabbalah was also respectable in learned Christian circles and doubtlessly coritributed its own sexual spirituality.26 For all of this, there was still no contemplative imagery in the mainstream of Christian spirituality that would represent male sexual longing as a paradigm for the love of God until the unique voice of Jacob Boehme broke the silence. Jacob Boehme (1575-1624), the German Lutheran lay mystic and teach-er, was doubtles.sly the boldest expositor of bridegroom imagery to emerge in the history of Christendom. Largely self-educated, Boehme worked as a shoemaker, and lived as a faithful husband and father of six, involved in the affairs of his guild and community. From an early age he had a remarkable series of revelations concerning the nature of God, creation, and the inter-play of good and evil. Iia his time alchemical and Kabbalistic ideas had per-colated well into learned spirituality, alongside the more official theologies of the churches. The Wisdom tradition, which had continued in Eastern Christian thought,27 had long lain dormant within Western Christian spiritu-ality, but in an intricate trinitarian theo.logy Boehme spontaneously and inde-pendently recovered it. Briefly and loosely stated, in Boehme's theogony Wisdom (or Sophia) was regarded as the consciousness of God. Wisdom was spoken of as the body of the Trinity and the bride of Christ. She infused all Song of the Groom the persoias of the Trinity in their knowledge of one another, and thus could draw human corisciousness into God. Accordingly, in the devotional works of Boehme, spiritual marriage was not between the bridal soul (the anima) and the bridegroom Christ, but between the animus and the Lady Wisdom. In The Way to Christ Boehme exhorts the reader to court the noble Virgin Sophia to become Her bridegroom just as Christ is Her bridegroom, and gives a stirring dialog between Sopfiia and the bridegroom soul.28 The Promise of Bridegroom Spirituality Let us return to the questions raised at the beginning of this article: What is th~ importance of male erotic mysticism? What does it contribute to our understanding of God? Does it open any new ways of thinking about who we are, in relation to God and in relation to one another, as men and women? The following common themes certainly are not exclusi~ie to bride-groom mysticism, but suggest themselves with enough ~orce to call for par-ticular notice: The Healing of Male Grief. Robert Bly has said that the male mode of feeling springs from a primal "grief," a grief related to the male experience of sacrifice and self-denial.29 In their conventional roles as providers and protectors, men have experienced a crushing burden of responsibility and "have-to's," wearily measuring up to others' expectations, just as they con-tinually size up other men. From the tenderest age, male ideritity is won in an act of separation and distinctioh from the mother, urilike the female identity that is secured through inclusion and similarity to her. Even the sexual act involves for the male a separation, a sundering and yielding of his very essence. Bridegi'oom mysticism exposes his deep grief to the healing work of the Woman. She, who is desirable pureiy by nature rather than by merit, brings forth what is best in a man. When a man first feels the stirrings of love toward the Divine Bride, the experienc6 is overwhelming, reminiscent of the first time he became attracted to ~ girl. Many men remember their initial sex-ual attractions as fresh and frightening and raw, but at the same time oddly pure. Later on, the sexual lives of men often become just another conquest or achievement, but the love of the Divine Bride never seems to lose its surprise and purity, giving the sacrifice of the man a worthy end and resting place. The Healing of Female Pain. Robert Bly calls the female mode of feel-ing an experience of "pain," the pain of being devalued. If nothing else, an awareness of God as Bride, at this juncture of our history, indicates mutuali-ty between men's and women's spirituality in contemporary faith, an acknowledgment by men that the divine feminine is as important to them as it is to women. One of the precepts of Tantric Buddhism states that "to dis- 834 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 parage women is a mortal offense, for woman is the source of Wisdom." Bridegroom spirituality accords the deepest respect to woman, in an act of affirmation that woman cannot give to herself, any more than man can heal his own grief without the love of the Woman. The Healing of God. In the wholeness of God as Woman, we worship Her as the matrix of mystery, comprehen.ding all within her, evil as well as good. In the year 1600 Jacob Boehme first had i.nsight into the activity of Divine Wisdom, and in this same revelation he said, "I saw, too, the essential nature of evil and good and how the pregnant Mother--the eternal gen-etrix brought them forth.''3° Bridegroom spirituality has much to offer our Understanding of what has been called the redemption of God.31 Warrior spirituality rouses to the Lord's clarion to wage battle against evil, but the human heart also seeks the why and wherefore of suffering, an intimacy in which the pain of God can be disclosed and, if possible~ healed. In Kabbalistic Judaism, humanity's separation from God also entails the sepa-ration of masculine and feminine principles within Godhead, and erotic spir-ituality participates in ttieir reunion. As Gershom Scholem writes: The reunion of God and His Shekhinah constitutes the meaning of redemption. In this staie, again seen in purely mythical terms, the mascu-line and feminine are carried back to their original unity, and in this unin-terrupted union of the two the powers of generation .will once again flow uhinterrupted through the worlds. The Kabbalists held that every reli-gioias act should be accompanied by the formula: this is done "for the sake of the reunion of God and His Shekhinah.''32 The Healing of Creation. This is the necessary and obvious corollary of the healing of God. Bridegroom spirituality implies human participation and co-responsibility for God's creative purpose. We relate to God the Father/Mother as children, but the relationship with God as Bride is an adult relationship, enrolling the man fully into God's ongoing creative actions. Wisdom. Quite consistently--in the Hebrew Scriiatures, in Buddhist Tantra, and in the teaching of Jacob Boehme--the divine feminine is named "Wisdom." Wisdom is the fulfillment of the defiriing male consciousness, not in an ever-escalating acquisition of knowledge, but in "knowingness," with its distinctly feminine quality. It is akin to the Hebrew yada, which is "to know" as well as "to make love to." Robert Bly says that ~i father must impart two gifts to his children: his temperament and his teachings. In con-temporary society, Bly says, childreh may ~till have a brief opportuhity to be exposed to their father's temperament, but they have been almost completely deprived of his teaching, of acquiring practical prowess from him. And (it seems to me) just as children need to receive the father's teaching, s6 the Song of the Groom male psyche needs to give teaching, for its own health. "Even mean men," Bly says, "are often sweet when they're teaching." The Buddhist scriptures describe the interplay of female Wisdom, or Prajna, with the male principle, which is alternately called Compassion (Karuna) or Skillful Means (Upaya), the ability to utilize any situation appropriately for the welfare of others. The implication is that the male capacity for action, know-how, and mastery must be thoroughly suffused with wisdom if it is to find fulfillment. Think of the master workman, mechanic, or cabinetmaker, who after years with his craft does not have to shout or trumpet his ability. His mastery is unarguably evi-dent in his work. He can be patient, gentle, and sure. He has seen it all before. In the same way, for the man to exercise Skillful Means, he must deeply see the potentials for good and evil in each situation. It is only Wisdom which brings this seeing. The Centrality oflntent. When the male spirit encounters God the Bride, She calls forth a unique pledge of fidelity, a resolve that endures beyond all appearances. When words fail, when understanding crumbles, when all our religious ego projects are shown for the games they are, only the kernel of bare intent remains. In such a contemplative vision, we pray not to "get somewhere," but enter prayer as itself an expression of desire or intent, in the faith that just in "being there" we give and receive everything. In the power of this intent we pray not to get close to God, but because we are close, and beloved, to Her. For the man who finds inklings of his own experience here, are they ways to enter more deeply? As masculine spirituality emerges, men will find ways to celebrate God the Bride if they are willing to do so. But here are some preliminary ideas for Christian men: ¯ Simply open the Song of Songs, and pray the words of the groom to God as your Bride. Notice what happens. ¯ Try the same thing with Jacob Boehme's dialog with Sophia, or with Ibn al-'Arabi's poem. ¯ In male gatherings of worship, sing Her praises, just as Jewish men would gather at the edge of town at sunset on Friday, to welcome their Bride as Queen of Shabbat. ¯ We learn about the divine feminine by honoring the femininity of women around us. In Tilden Edwards's book Practicing the Presence, there is a simple, prayerful exercise that a man and woman can enter together.33 The book The Shared Heart by Joyce and Barry Vissell also has some sug-gestions, for committed couples. ¯ Christian celibates who want to bring sexual energy into prayer might wish to consult The Radiant Heart by Linda Sabbath. This does not deal [136 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 specifically with male sexuality, but perhaps the exercises could be adapted toward this direction. In the Song of Songs, the awaiting bride leaps to the door at the approach of her groom, only to find that he has vanished. The bride is ready for love, but it is the groom who is timid and unsure. Is humanity only to be the hearer of the song of the groom? Might not that song also be meant to pour forth from the hearts of men? Might not the Bride be yearning to hear it? NOTES ~ John Carmody, Toward a Male Spirituality (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, n.d.), pp. 31-32. 2 Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette, King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine (HarperSanFrancisco, 1990), p. 121. 3 Alison Weber, Teresa of Avila and the Rhetoric of Femininity (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990), pp. 109-122. 4 Mary and Leon J. Podl6s, "The Emasculation of God," America, 25 November 1989, p. 373. 5 See, for example, James B. Nelson, The Intimate Connection: Male Sexuality, Male Spirituality (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988), p. 31. 6 Podles, p. 374. For a thorough treatment of the fatherhood of God, see also John W. Miller, Biblical Faith and Fathering: Why We Call God "Father" (New York: Paulist Press, 1989). 7 Carmody, p. 45. 8 Arthur Green, "Bride, Spouse, Daughter," in Susannah Heschel, ed., On Being a Jewish Feminist (New York: Schocken Books, 1983), pp. 248-249. 9 Robert Bly, Iron John: A Book about Men (Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley Publishing Co., 1990), p. 123. l0 Alan W. Watts, Nature, Man and Woman (New York: Pantheon Books, 1958), pp. 143-145. ~ Gerald May, Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1982), pp. 5, 6. ~2 Gershom G. Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York: Schocken Books, 1965). ~3 Referenced in Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), pp. 122-138. ~4 Gershom G. Scholem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism (New York: Schocken Books, 1969), pp. 140-141. ~5 Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions oflslam (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1975), p. 429. Song of the Groom 16 In Reynold A. Nicholson, The Mystics oflslam (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 102. 17 Ibn al-'Arabi, Bezels of Wisdom, trans. R.W.J. Austin (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), p. 276. 18 Daniel Cozort, Highest Yoga Tantra: An Introduction to the Esoteric Buddhism of Tibet (Ithaca, N.Y.: Snow Lion Publications, 1986). 19 See the works of Herbert Guenther: Yuganaddha: The Tantric View of Life (Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series, second edition, 1964) and The Life and Teaching of Naropa (Boston: Shambala, 1986). 20 Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, as quoted in Tsultrim Allione's remarkable work Women of Wisdom (Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984), p. 38. 21 Brown, The Body and Society. 22 B.Z. Goldberg, The Sacred Fire: The Story of Sex in Religion (New York: University Books, 1958), p. 199. 23 Ibid. 24 Denis de Rougemont, Love in the Western Worm (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1983). This revised edition has valuable appendices. 25 Marie-Louise von Franz, Alchemy: An Introduction to the Symbolism and Psychology (Toronto: Inner City Books, 1980). 26 loan P. Culianu, Eros and Magic in the Renaissance (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross are also believed to have been influenced b~, the Kabbalah. See C. Swietlicki, Spanish Christian Cabala: The Works of Luis de Le6n, Santa Teresa de Jesfis, and San Juan de la Cruz (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1986). 27 See Sergius Bulgakov's interesting and controversial works, particularly The Wisdom of God: A Brief Summary of Sophiology (New York: Paisley Press, 1937), in which he presents an Eastern Orthodox sophiology quite consistent with Boehme's theogony. 28 Jacob Boehme, The Way to Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 59-62. 29 These comments from Robert Bly are from a televised interview with Bill Moyers, A Gathering of Men. A videotape and transcript are available from Mystic Fire Videos. 30 Ann Liem, Jacob Boehme: Insights into the Challenge of Evil (Wallingford, Pa.: Pendle Hill Publications, 1977), p. 8. 31 See, in particular, I. Carter Heyward, The Redemption of God: A Theology of Mutual Relation (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1982). 32 Scholem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism, p. 108. 33 Tilden Edwards, Living in the Presence: Disciplines for the Spiritual Heart (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987), p. 74. 1~38 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 ADDITIONAL WORKS Bolen, Jean Shinoda. Gods in Everyman: A New Psychology of Men's Lives and Loves. New York: Harper & Row, 1989. Davis, Charles. Body as Spirit: The Nature of Religious Feeling. New York: Seabury, 1976. Donnelly, Dody H. Radical Love: An Approach to Sexual Spirituality. Minneapolis: Winston Press, 1984. Eliade, Mircea. "Masculine Sacrality" (vol. 8, pp. 252-258) and "Feminine Sacrality" (vol. 5, pp. 302-312). In The Encyclopedia of Religion. New York: Macmillan, 1987. Ibn al-'Arabi. Tarjuman al-Ashwaq. Translation and commentary by Reynold A. Nicholson. London, 1911. Johnson, Robert A. He: Understanding Masculine Psychology. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1977, 1986. Sabbath, Linda. The Radiant Heart. Dimension Books, 1977. Stoudt, John J. Jacob Boehme: His Life and Thought. New York: Seabury Press, 1968. Vissell, Joyce, and Vissell, Barry. The Shared Heart: Relationship, Initiations and Celebrations. Aptos, Calif.: Ramira Publishing, 1984. Incense What sense this incense, Questions common sense? This burning, this waste, Like fragrant perfume, Aromatic nard on the Lord? Like love freely given-- For sheer delight! A gift--this incense-- Sweet savor of benevolence. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 The Bible's Use of Sexual Language Nancy M. Cross Mrs. Cross's article on Blessed Edith Stein's feminism appeared in our issue of January/February 1989. The mother of twelve and now the grandmother of twenty-five, she entered the Catholic Church twenty years ago along with her Protestant-minister husband and their entire family. A wideiy published writer, she cofitinues to have this address: Box 55; Tayiors Falls, Minnesota 55084. [~lore and more Christian publications are saying what Arthur Shaw said in the National Catholic Register: that addressing God as male or female is "not only sowing confusion, but teaching heresy.''l Inasmuch as God is pu~e spirit and has no physical body that is male br female, the statement is, of course true. Yet a reply to this assertion about gender language used for God is demanded if some critical truth is not to be totally obscured, because the assertion is simply not clear enough. Addressing God with gender language exclusively of one sex is neither confusing nor heretical, but correct and true, and is first to be found in the Bible. Genesis 1 describes God's creation of man and woman in tiis image: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness . So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them" (Gn 1:27). About tliis passage Pope John Paul II, in the encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem, asks, ."Can one hold that the plural which the Creator uses here in speaking of himself already in some way sug-gests the Trinitarian mystery, the presence of the Trinity in the work of the creation of man?''2 His logic, which in every particular fits the unfolding story of man and woman in the Bible, brings us to some clarifying insights about the meaning of sexuality. In his pastoral letter "Do This in Memory of Me," Cardinal Carter of Toronto presents the deep covenantal the61ogy based on the Trinity from which we understand relationships on all levels of being: God and 839 840 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 humankind, man and woman, priest and laity. The cardinal archbishop's teaching ranges from deductions based on the nature of the Trinity and the incarnation of Christ to anthropological considerations drawn from the nature of human sexuality. He begins with an analysis of the Trinity, a com-munity of diverse persons which implies neither lordship nor subjugation of one Person to another, yet with distinct roles, irreducibly different in what concerns their being as distinct Persons.3 Triune Relationship Within the relationship of the triune Persons stand revealed an initiator, the Father, and a dependent responder, the Son; unifying these two polar Persons (initiation and response are ob-positioned) is the Holy Spirit, who is, as St. Bernard said, "the kiss between the Father and the Son." Each has all the attributes of the one nature, but some are more to be said of one than the others-~"neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the substance," as the Athanasian Creed puts it. From the union of Father and Son in the Spirit come creativity and ecstasy. In creating man and woman, God shares that creativity and ecstasy of his own being by enfleshing, materializing these awesome principles of personhood in a male who initiates and a female who is dependent and responds. Cardinal Carter writes: "This qualitative sexual differentiation is rooted not in physiology but in the created human imaging of the Trinity, and is indissociable from the revelation of the Trinity in Christ, as his Incarnation bears witness.''4 In the perfection of the original plan, these two (humankind) are made in this image: two polar persons sharing one nature-~one the initiator, one the responder, both united by a third, the Holy Spirit, who condescends to share himself and unify these opposites with divine love. Therefore, the sexuality that appeared in physical form expresses in a creaturely way something utterly spiritual at the very heart of things. The Trinity Imaged God is saying something about his very self in the creation of man and woman; he is sharing the dynamics of the personhood in the Trinity with the creature he makes in his image. Therefore maleness, though not found in the Trinity, of course, speaks nevertheless of what we would intrepidly say is the masculine principle among the Persons of the Trinity. How do we come to the idea of "masculine"? By observing the action of the male. But the male is picturing for us something far beyond himself. Although it may be anthro-pocentric to describe the First Person as Father, nevertheless, because the The Bible's Use of Sexual Language / 1~41 male generates (in a secondary way) new life and because God has revealed himself as generator of everything that is, it is clear that the very idea has come from God down, not from man up. God has spoken about himself in real terms by creating male and female bodies. Therefore, what has visible form as male imperfectly incarnates a masculine principle in the Trinity. We call the principle "masculine" because of our human experience with male-ness- but it precedes maleness and lies at the heart of things. What has visi-ble form as female imperfectly incarnates a feminine principle in the Trinity. We call the principle "feminine" because of our human experience with femaleness--but it precedes femaleness and lies at the heart of things. Accordingly, the second person in both the Holy Trinity and in humankind is the responder. This role for both the Son and the woman is in response to the First/first person. Do the Son and the woman have the attribute of initiation? Do the Father and the man have the attribute of response? Of course they do, because the polar persons share all attributes of each other; but certain attributes are more to be said of one than the other-- which makes the persons' positions polar and nonexchangeable. As Cardinal Carter says, "the absolute unity of God is not monadic but trinitarian. This eliminates the necessity o.f placing antagonisms between unity and multiplic-ity, because the Triune God, who is Unity itself, is also three Persons, quali-tatively differentiated and irreducible to each other, yet without antagonism." 5 Equality In perfection the Second/second person is completely equal in worth to the First/first person. It is a result of the Fall, the takeover of the scene by an enemy's values, that "response" and "dependent" have become despised concepts. In the perfect plan, re.ceiving and responding are values equal to governance and generating. The Second Person is coequal and coeternal to the First. Man and woman, created to image that relationship in human flesh, \ were created with the same polar roles inherent in their flesh and psyche, yet they stand eye to eye as total equals. As in the Trinity, initiation (or authori-ty) and response (or obedience), indicative of man and woman, are not prin-ciples unequal in their value and worth. They are the stances of wholly equal beings, who enjoy an equality like Father and Son. The very idea of the inequality of the role of response came from an alien consciousness, one who had already envied the role of authority and spread that envy to the perfect creation. When the woman accepted his defi-nition, eventually believing his lies, his value system was established, which is the Fall, a value system that still is modus operandi. It took this alien con- 1~49 / Review for ReligiouJ, November-December 1991 sciousness to cast doubt on that equality and to substitute a value system which contaminates everything since the Fall. The antiword (Pope John Paul's term) corrupts the world with the lie that to initiate and order is power and power is "where it's at." As a corollary, the same antiword insists that to heed and serve, to receive and. respond, is for lackeys and nitwits. Jesus restored the value system of perfection. In bridging this abyss he restored the values of the original plan: to be obedient is not the least important role, to be authority is not the most important role. But almost no one believes it to this day--least of all the one who most purely is created to model obedience and service, the woman. Archbishop John Roach, speaking to the National Council of Catholic W~omen, recently cast light on this as it refers to laity and clergy: The Father, the Son, and the Spirit are one, but very different. The Father does not do what the Son does, the Son does not do what the Father does and neither does what ~he Spirit does. Jesus spoke often of doing the Father's will. He was not obsequious; that was his role and he recognized the Father's role. The Father did things unique to the Father. He initiates, governs, presides, creates in a very distinctive way. The Son's role is to respond, to be the word for the Father, to reflect the Father, to be the splendor and glory of the Father. The Spirit is the bond of love animating the Father and the Son. He is the comforter and consoler and paraclete and inspiration. That may seem to be a kind of lofty ideal for us, but I think it is what we have to aim at. Our roles are different, but that ought to be a source of rejoicing, not resentment. There are things that you do as laity that I should not do. There are things that I do as bishop and priest that you should not do . There is no inferiority or super-superiority in the Trinity. There cannot be any among us. I must exercise a kind of leader-ship and a kind of authority for the good ofth~ Church which is not your responsibility. To do that, however, I must recognize not only th~ dignity of you as persons and children of God, but as people in whom the Spirit speaks . In a collegial gathering all bring gifts. The leader becomes ser-vant and the last rises to full dignity . 6 Revaluing Roles in Tr!nitarian Light In .order for this vision to catch on, it takes the woman first (beginning with the Blessed Virgin Mary, but with us women too) to revalue her role and meaning in light of the Second Person of the Trinity. This is because woman first accepted Satan's false definition and evaluation of her role, that is, as less worthy than the role of authority her husband held in their rela- .tionship by divine command. Edith Stein says, "The nature of the temptation was in itself of more significance to her."7 The woman must begin the unraveling of the knot by not choosi.ng again the values of Satan, not accept- The Bible's Use of Sexual Language ing again the lie that ordering/authority/governance has a higher prestige, is more worthy than service, and is, therefore, an object of envy. She must claim her role and love it; and if she must fight, it is to have that role of obe-dience recognized as fully equal to the opposite role of authority. She is nei-ther a lackey nor a nitwit. Authority will not talk down to her if she talks straight with it, respectfully, but eye to eye. In order for the value system of perfection to be restored, woman must accept obedience as fully worthy, fully equal to the opposite role. The Virgin Mary has done it. Women have rarely done it, and the very idea is being washed away in our day. Not only has obedience (submission) been deval-ued as the feminine role, but authority has been falsely elevated (Satan's val-ues are intact). Therefore, the man considers his role as prestigious and powerful; and this worldly, not to say carnal, evaluation is widely endorsed by women. Authority, which is another word for ultimate initiation and governance, must take its cue from the First Person of the Trinity--that is, it exists to put all at the service of those who are receivers/responders. Pope John Paul's insistence that Ephesians 5 speaks of "mutual submission" of wife to hus-band and husband to wife underlines this.8 But the submission of both, the total giving of self9 that both experience, is done differently. The woman submits to the husband's governance and ordering (the role of headship) of their life together, making one will of two; and the husband submits to the woman's need for protection and provision, and this whether he feels like it or not. In the Christian community, males have authority, and women model obedience. But both live lives of self-giving service in mutual submission. The laity (feminine though consisting of males and females) submits to the clergy's (masculine) governance, the clergy submits to the laity's need for headship, spiritual and material, whether convenient or inconvenient. Further, the Christian community forms the people of God (the bride) whose relationship to God is as feminine to masculine. The model? Again, man and woman in marriage;t just as man and woman in marriage are the image of the Holy Trinity. This imaging of the meaning of sexuality is not deviated from throughout the Bible despite the different pressures of time and culture in the two thousand years of its formation. We see the model for both roles within the Holy Trinity. There is no pres-tige in the role of authority, and no servility in the role of obedience--such is the peculiar Christian ~,ision of relationship. Says Jesus who was sent: "I do nothing but what I see the Father doing"; "I have not come of my own accord"; and so forth. Such statements are the core of the gospel of John. l0 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 Anthropomorphic, yet True What does this mean? That maleness and femaleness and the roles inherent in the bodily form speak of ultimate truth about relationship origi-nating in the Holy Trinity. God knows that this creature will develop a lan-guage according to information received through the senses. That language will necessarily be anthropomorphic, but because the sexual body, male and female, is created to image the truth, the words developed can be used to express that truth truly. C.S. Lewis masterfully investigates the meaning of sexuality in his space-fiction trilogy Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength. In the latter he writes: "Yes," said the Director. "There is no escape. If it were a virginal rejec-tion of the male, He would allow it. Such souls can bypass the male and go on to meet something far more masculine, higher up, to which they must make a yet deeper surrender. But your trouble has been what old poets called Daungier, we call it Pride . The masculine none of us can escape. What is above and beyond all things is so masculine that we are all feminine in relation to it . ,, I I The inspired writers of Holy Scripture, where Lewis gained his insights, speak truly when they reveal God as forever masculine, and humankind in relation to God as forever feminine. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they never deviate from this form of expression, not once! Examine careful-ly those Scriptures used to present God as mother and you will not find them asserting God's motherhood. The importance of God in his triune Persons always being considered masculine to us human beings is so overwhelming that in every case in Scripture the truth of this is rigorously guarded. For this reason, also, the Second Person of the Trinity came as male--all Persons of the Trinity are to us as masculine to feminine whether we are male or female humans. Isaiah and Hosea Isaiah 66:12-13 is the favorite of the misquoted Scriptures and is always used in this way: "As nurslings, you shall be carried in her arms, and fondled in her lap; as a mother comforts her son, so will I comfort you." This, how-ever, is the fuller text, more closely translated: "Behold, I will extend pros-perity to her like a fiver, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall suck, you shall be carried upon her hip, and dandled upon her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem?' Obviously God does not present himself as the mother in this passage. The Bible's Use of Sexual Language The distinction he places between himself and Jerusalem is very clear. The same holds true for Isaiah 49:15, another favorite to substantiate God's motherhood. "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you." The speaker is Yahweh, the LORD, who in the entire text of Isaiah presents him-self as enduringly masculine though with a depth of compassion that sur-passes all earthly love, even the love of a mother. Mothers may forget, it is possible, but the Lord will not forget. This Lord continues, "Then all flesh shall know that I am the Lord your Savior, and your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob" (Is 49:26). Chapter fifty continues the theme, with God iden-tifying himself as husband and father. Isaiah 46:3-4 is also a standby text for the Mother-God argument, yet there is nothing necessarily maternal in the picture of God carrying the heavy burden which Israel has become. In fact it is explicitly stated in this passage that the one who carries is masculine: "Hearken to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am He, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save." Next to Isaiah, Hosea is most often called on to bolster the femininity-of- God argument. Such a twist of Hosea's intent cannot be supported by the text, in which God speaks throughout as a betrayed husband and deserted father. There is no plausibility for assuming that the speaker in Hosea 11 is maternal. The Father is expressing the warmth and concern we expect from either parent, mother or father. Nothing maternal is stated here. The actual text, with irrelevant passages deleted, reads: When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the more they went from me . Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them . How can I give you up, O Ephraim!. My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come to destroy. Can this be considered to be the Mother-God talking? The context is quite the contrary. Neither does Sirach 4:10, "[God] will love you more than your mother did," say anything tb conclude the femininity of the One who loves more than human mothers. The full wording is: "You will then be like a son of the Most High, and he will love you more than does your mother." The Holy~Trinity, of course, has within itself all the positive expressions 846 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 of relationship that there are. This means that mother-love has its origin in the Holy Trinity. What from humankind's point of view would be called fem-inine love is present within (intra) the Trinity; it has been enfleshed by the Creator in the woman--the Son is the Person imaged by the woman. Yet, despite the obvious full measure of what we humans call "femininity" inher-ent in the Trinity, God never approaches his people as mother or as feminine. To humankind (ad extra) God is consistently husband, father, lover, and not wife, mother, or beloved, because Godhead is to humankind the initiator, the author, eliciting humankind's response and obedience, and the roles cannot be reversed. Children, Church, Bride His people are polar to himself, and though they are intended to be, in a certain sense, his equals ("bride without spot or wrinkle," Ep 5:27), they can never be God despite Satan's words to the contrary. Yet they are meant to be joined in union with him; the Holy Spirit will condescend to his mysterious work, but only after Jesus has come to forgive otherwise indelible sin. His people cannot initiate anything with God; he is the initiator. They cannot work their way back to union with him; they are wholly dependent on his action. In relationship to him they can only receive and respond, as they were created to do: to think God's thoughts after him and to obey his Holy Will, or if they prefer to exercise their freedom the opposite way, they may think Satan's thoughts after him and do his will. If God can be presented as mother or as feminine, that is, as receiver and accepter in the God/humankind relationship, where does that place his polar people? They are his children, of course, but they are growing into his bride, not his groom. A feminine God would make them the masculine pole-- exactly what Satan tempted them to think in the beginning--that they should envy and seize the authority side of the equation and "be like gods." Already the value of the role of willing obedience has been totally disparaged. In its place is the Satanic concept that Godhead is merely dominating authoritari-anism lording it over lackeys and nitwits. Thus, the significance of masculine and feminine runs very deep indeed. There is no mother in heaven other than the Blessed Mother, and she is given to us as all the mother we need. There is another heavenly mother, the Church, in that mystical dimension of her that is holy. It is her overflowing breasts that feed us (Is 66) and her warm lap that holds us. The only consort of the God who presents himself as masculine to us is ourselves. Another aspect of the gender-of-God question that appears more and more frequently in periodicals is the matter of history--the assumption The Bible's Use of Sexual Language grows that the Hebrews somehow messed up things and imposed upon the world their perverse patriarchy which they expressed in their sacred writ-ings. Their patriarchal prejudices, declare this reasoning, overpowered the more gentle goddess-religions.~2 We need to look again at that claim in light of the above and also in. light of the goddesses themselves, who were not gentle and approachable at all. Tanit, Astarte, or Astaroth demanded child sacrifices; a very bloodthirsty goddess she was, depicted with a lioness's head! The others do not stand any kind of scrutiny either. They are projec-tions from the fallen psyche of humankind and cannot stand comparison with the Holy One of Israel, I AM HE. Language and Reality It is legitimate, therefore, to object to much current writing against tradi-tional God and gender language: 1. It twists Scripture, theology, and history, even when done innocently. 2. Scripture is not just a human book--it is far too profound for that, often speaking more than the human author knew or intended. Dei Verbum says, "Since, therefore, all that the inspired authors, or sacred writers, affirm should be regarded as affirmed by the Holy Sp!rit, we must acknowledge that the books of Scripture, firmly, faithfully, and without error, teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation, wished to see confided to the sacred Scriptures" (DV, no. 11). Often those who adhere to this definition are pejoratively called fundamentalists, a word many who are unwilling to take Scripture wholly and seriously use much too freely in order to quiet their questioners. It is necessary to heed literary forms, the times addressed, the exact meaning of words in their contexts, and ways of perception of the times. But none of this negates the truth of the quotation above (which tran-scends all of the human aspects of Scripture), namely, that God has seen to it that this book speaks what he wants us to know: "sacred Scripture must be read and interpreted with its divine authorship in mind" (DV, no. 12). 3. In the matter of sexuality in Scripture, we are not working with mere metaphor; we are working with an analogy. An analogy points up a relation-ship between two things--a real parailelism of character or attributes. Therefore, to say that man and woman and their relationship are an analogy of God's relationship to humankind is to say that there is a real parallel in the comparison that rests in verity--in this case, because God has created the one (humankind) to be a sign of the other (God). A metaphor, on the other hand, merely suggests a likeness in some particular about two very unlike things, for instance, "That dog walks like a turtle." Feminine references to Godhead in Scripture can be seen with little effort to be sheer metaphors. ~i4~1 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 When Jesus said that he was like a hen wanting to gather his chicks, he was speaking !n metaphor he did not resemble a chicken in any regard other than this one particular. But when he said he and the Father are One, he was not speaking metaphor at all--either about Father, which I have explained above, or about their oneness. In this matter of gender language for God and of the meaning of male and female, many people are being swept along by something that they do not understand, and are taking up the mistaken values of feminism about authority/submission. Thus they .are constantly tempted to envy the mascu-line side and thereby cast aside the beauty and wholeness of Jesus' way of abject obedience, saying it does not behoove women to be obedient or to have anything to do with submission. All of this is a serious concern to the Church as we enter the third millennium, for it lies at the center of what it means to be a Catholic Christian. It is sifting those who have the heart for it from those who do not, and will eventually be seen to vindicate the Church's assertion that the Holy Spirit "leads her to perfect union with her Spouse.''~3 NOTES l Arthur Shaw, "Gender Language for God," National Catholic Register, November 12, 1989, p. 4. 2 John Pau! II, Encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem (pentecost 1986), no. 12. Italics mine. 3 Cardinal Gerald Emmett (~arter, "Do This in Memory of Me," 8 December 1983. 4 .Ibid, p. 24. 5 Ibid, p. 11. 6 Archbishop John Roach, Archbishop of Minneapolis/St. Paul, Eucharistic Celebration, November 9, 1987, National Council of Catholic Women. 7 Edith Stein, The Collected Works of Edith Stein, Volume Two, Essays on Woman (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1987), p. 62. 8 John Paul II, Pastoral Letter Mulieris Dignatatem (1989), pp. 91, 92, 98. 9 Ibid, pp. 67, 78, 84. ~0 See, among many other verses, 5:19, 26, 30, 37, 43; 6:44; 8:28. ~ C.S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength (Macmillan, 1946), p. 315. 12 See Virginia Ann Froehle, R.S.M., "Feminine Images of God Can Enhance Your Prayer and Change Your Life," St. Anthony Messenger, May 1989. This article blatantl

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri 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 ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995Review 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 com~nercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli

Issue 16.3 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, 1957 Father Charles Nerinckx . Sister M. Matilda Current Spiritual Writing . Thomas G. O'Callaghan Apostates and Fugitives . Joseph I:. Gallen Roman Documents . R. I:. Smith Book Reviews Questions and Answers Summer Institutes Communications~ VOLUME 16 NUMBER 3 RI::VI I::W FOR RI LIGIOUS VOLUME 16 MAY, 1957 Nu~BER 3 CONTENTS FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX--Sister M. Matilda, S.L . 129 SUMMER INSTITUTES . 142 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING-- Thomas G. O'CaIlaghan, S.J . 143 DELAYED VOCATIONS . 154 GUIDANCE FOR RELIGIOUS . 154 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES~Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 155 PRAYER OF POPE PIUS XII FOR RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS. 165 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J . 166 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 175 COMMUNICATIONS . 176 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS~ Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana. i . 180 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~- 13. Initiation of Principle of Adaptation . 188 14. Credo in Mass . 188 15. Bowing at Distribution of Communion . 189 16. Principles of Adaptation of Prayer . 189 17. Candidates of Inferior Intellectual Ability . 191 18. Special Ordinary Confessor of a Teaching Brother . 192 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, t957. Vol. 16, No. 3. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesi-astical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. The story of the founder of the Lorettines F :her.Ch rles Nerinckx Sist:er M. Mat:ilda, S.L. T HOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small." Sometimes we see results, more often we do not. In the life of Reverend Charles Nerinckx and the story of the founding of the Congregation of the Sisters of Loretto, we see much that is tangibJe; yet there is much that is still intangible. The French Revolution was God's smithy in which Nerinckx's character and missionary vocation were forged and welded; ~the American Revolution and the adjust-ment period that followed saw the birth of Mary Rhodes and the other young women whose youth must h~ive been spent amid the problems of a young country in its new-found freedom. These lives, trained in stress and turmoil, an ocean apart, were being prepared slowly but effectively to converge in a work that has carried on through the years. Charles Nerinckx was born October 2, 1761, in the province of Brabant, Belgium, the oldest of seven brothers arid seven sisters born to Sebastian Nerinckx and Petronilla Langhendries, The father was a skillful physician, a Christian of strong and practical faith too infrequently found among the medical men of Europe of that day; the mother, a woman of solid piety and sturdy common sense. With a view to enlarging his medical practice and securing greater educational advantages for his children, Dr. Nerinckx early moved to Ninove, province of East Flanders. Here it was that Charles, at the age of six, began his primary studies. Having completed his elementary education in the local schools, Charles was sent successively to Enghien, Gheel, and the Catholic Uni-versity of. Louvain. Then, having decided to study for the secu-lar priesthood, he entered the seminary at Mechlin and was there 129 SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious ordained in 1785.' The following year he was appointed vicar of the metropolitan parish of St. Rumoldus, Mechlin, over which Prince John Henry Cardinal de Frankenberghe presided as arch-bishop. Father Nerinckx filled this important post for eight years with such zeal as to attract the admiring notice of the Cardinal Archbishop. So, when the parish of Everberg-Meer-beke, midway between Mechlin and Brussels, became vacant at "the death of the aged incumbent, M. Nerinckx was appointed to fill it by the general sut~rage of a board ot~ examiners, who, after the searching examination, o'r concursus, recommended by the Holy Council of Trent for such cases, unanimously awarded him the palm over all other candidates." Father Nerinckx was then thirty-three years of age. The greatest problem encountered in the new assignment was the obstinate apathy of the people towards their religious duties. Beginning with the children, winning their love and obedience, he soon won their parents and elders. Within three years such a profound change had been wrought that the mighty wave of irreligion attendant on the victorious armies of the French revolutionists failed to engulf his parishioners. Leaders of the opposition were naturally enraged. They succeeded in having him proscribed because he refused to take the oath de-manded by the government, an oath at variance with his con-science. Thus forced into hiding, he attended his parish only in secret; finally even this became too dangerous. Disguised as a peasant, Father Nerinckx went to Dendermonde where his aunt, Mother Constantia, was the superior of the Hospital of St. Blase. For months he lived in the attic of the hospital, never stirring abroad in daylight but ministering by night to the sick, to the dying, even to condemned prisoners, and caring for the spir: itual welfare of the sisters who had been deprived of their chap. lain by the same enmity that had made their guest a fugitive. Thus by night he did God's work for others; by day he prayed, medita~ted, planned, studied, wrote, and slept a little. For four years he evaded informers and acted secretly as chaplain of the 130 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX hospital, yet his priestly zeal urged actioni free and untrammeldd action, impossible in his native land under existing conditionS. To save souls was his consuming desire; the western world, where the harvest was great and the laborers few, called him. He would go t.here. Father Nerinckx volunteered' for the American missions. On his arrival at Baltimore in the fall of 1804, he was appointed by Bishop John Carroll to the Kentucky sedtion of his vast dio-cese of Baltimore whicli embraced the whole of the United States. No'record is left us'~of what the word "Kentucky" meant to the Belgian exile on receiving this appointment. Generous in his ignorance of what life on the American frontier meant for a missionary, "it never was regretted when knowledge, the fullest and the bitterest, was his measure." After a few.months at G~orgetown, where he diligently studied the English language, he set out for Kentu.cl~y .with a colony of Trappist monks bound for the same region. Finding theil mode of travel too slow for h~is ardent zeal he pushed ahead alone and arrived on July 18, 1805, at St. Stephen's Farm, sixty miles south of Louisville. He went immediately to work aiding Reverend Stephen Theodore Badin, then the only priest in the state of Kentucky. At first-Father Nerinckx rode the cir-cuits of the missions nearer the priests'-headquarters, St. Steph-en's Farm, now Loretto Motherhouse; liter, he attended those farther away until, as he learned the country, he took the most remote. For the first seven years he shared the humble cabin, coarse fare, and weary journeys of Father Badin at St. Stephen's; after-wards he took up his residence chiefly at the log church of St. Charles on Hardin Creek, to which church he had added a room for himself. But he was seldom at home; he lived in his scaitered missions and passed long hours in the saddle. He then had charge of six large congregations,.besides a much greater number of mission stations scattered over the whole extent of Kentucky. SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious To visit all his churches and stations generally required the space of at least six weeks. When the two priests were together, they often discussed the advisab!lity of a diocese with headquarters nearer than Baltimore. Father Badin had urged it before Father Nerinckx arrived; and the latter, after a very short time in Kentucky, added his urging to that of his companion. When the diocese was created in 1808 and Bardstown named as the see city, the two priests set to work to prepare, for the arrival of Bishop Flaget by building near their own a log cabin for him where the formal installation took place. As in Europe Father Nerinckx had used the children to win the people back to God, so in Kentucky he used the same tactics to preserve and to spread the Faith. He loved these little Kentucky children; their simplicity, guilelessness, innocence drew him to them. But he well "knew youthful minds required more than an occasional lesson in the truths of religion if the Faith was to be preserved. Too, he knew education would eventually come to the Kentucky frontier; and, when it came, it would be education without religion. How could he safeguard the Faith of these little ones? Within a year after his arrival he wrote to his parents that he intended to establish a sisterhood to help him in the work. His first effort was a failure, and in his humility he shouldered the blame as being too unworthy of such an undertaking and urged Father Badin to take over the foundation. Accordingly a convent was begun and speedily completed. It stood about a mile and a half from St. Stephen's. Several young women applied to be the first religious. But God's mill does not grind so fast. He had chosen other souls for this work, and until His time came and His chosen ones were fully prepared the work would not begin.- A bolt of lightning set fire to the building before it could be occupied, leaving, only two blackened chimneys--prophetic symbols to Father Nerinckx of future SUCCESS. Father Badin, crushed as-was Father Nerinckx with disap-pointment at the failure of this cherished project, turned to the 132 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX more distant missions, leaying the nearer congregations to his co-laborer. For four years Father Nerinckx labored and prayed and hoped. God's time had not yet come; he must wait. Riding the circuit of the nearer missions gave him opportunity to study the whole situation; and his convictions became stronger that a sisterhood would arise, a sisterhood as American as the American pioneer women who would build it. This time the initiative came, not from the priests, but from a member of the St. Charles Cong. regation, a Miss Mary Rhodes who was visiting her brother and sister, earlier immigrants to .Kentucky. Mary Rhodes was born in Washington, Maryland, now the District of Columbia. She had received a convent edu-cation, presumably with the Pious Ladies who had established themselves at Georgetown in 1799 and adopted the Visitandine Rule in 1816. The Rhodes sisters were young ladies of culture and refinement, so it is easy to understand how concerned Mary Rhodes was to see her nieces growing up with few intellectual advantages and no mental ambitions beyond those which their hard-working father and mother could give them. What she could do to help them she did, by teaching them daily. Neigh-bors heard of the instruction that the little Rhodes children were receiving and asked for the same advantages for their daughters; Mary Rhodes's generous heart could not refuse what was in her power to give. She laid her project before Father Nerinckx, sought his approval to give religious instruction and the rudiments of elementary education to the girls who might come, and asked his blessing. Obtaining these, she set about converting a long-uninhabited log cabin into a school. The school prospered beyond the most sanguine expectations of pastor and teacher. The increased number of pupils induced Father Nerinckx to look for an assistant to help Miss Rhodes; this he found in Miss Christina Stuart, a pious young lady of the neigh-l~ orhood who eagerly accepted the invitation. Both young women lived for a time at the Rhodes's home; but, finding the house too' much frequented by worldly company, for ~vhich neither 133 S~ISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious h:id any great inclination, they fitted up a .second log cabin ~adjoining the school and equally dilapidated and there took up their abode where they could pursue undisturbed their studies and the development of their spiritual life. For their livelihood they trusted, solely in, Divine Providence. Till now, we are told, they had not thought of the religious life; but, with the coming of Miss Nancy Havern,to share their happiness, their labors and privations, such a desire was born. The~e is no record of which soul first conceived the idea of becoming a religious; very like~ly it was Mary Rhodes, as she had been with the sisters at Georgetown; and at least 'she knew some-thing about sisters. Again Father Nerinckx was consulted. Happy as he was at finding such piety and generosity, he prudently in-structed them on the obligations of religious life and the obstacles they might meet under pioneer conditions. But they were not fearful; their trust in Providence was modeled on that of their adviser and spiritual father; and they begged him to give them some rules to live by. He wrote down a few simple rules for the three aspirants, gave them his blessing and encouragement. As soon as possible Father Nerinckx laid the whole affair before the loca! ordinary, Bishop Flaget, "who gave the undertaking his warmest approval and placed it under the care of Father Nerinckx." Father Nerinckx had said that hardships, disappointments, poverty, toi!, death would be their portion through the years; but with trust in Divine Providence and confidence in the watch-ful direction of their pastor they persevered. They increased in numbers and spread to other localities and states until at the present time, 1957, the Sisters of Loretto have 70 houses' in the United States. They staff 106 schools counti'ng grade and high schools separately. These are: 2 senior colleges, 1 junior college~ 21 senior high schools, 1 junior high school, 80 grade schools, and 1 pre-school. They teach in Alabama, Arizona., California, Colorado, Illinois, Kentucky, Missouri, New Mexico, Texas; Virginia, and Wyoming. In 1923 and 1933 they opened houses 134 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX in China which flourished until the sisters were expelled by" the Communists in 1949. In founding the Institute of the Sisters of Loretto, Father Nerinckx called into service his rich knowledge of' canon law and church history, especially the history of the religious orders of the Church, to which he added a wealth of personal experience and his acquaintance and appreciation'of the rugged American spirit of independence, initiative, and adaptability. The French Revolution had not made him fearful, but it had made him cautious. Therefore, after a three-year trial period of his simple rule based on that of St. Augustine, he journeyed to Rome and submitted it to the highest ecclesiastical, authorities. He petitioned that the young Institute be placed .directly under pontifical juris-diction. This petition was granted; the Institute of the Sisters of Loretto became an exempt order.~in the third year of its existence. The spirit of the Society was determined from its inception. It is the same today. It is succinctly expressed in the words love and sacrifice. In more detail is the following summation from the first printed Holy Rule: The Sisters of Loretto are to impress most deeply upon their minds that the sacred obligation ot: the vows they pronounce are voluntarily as-sumed and must be meticulously fulfilled; silence hnd recollection must be cherished to stimulate an ever more intimate union with the Suffering Jesus and His Sorrowful Mother at the Cross; hardships and labor must be welcomed and embraced, not only as a way of livelihood, but as well. deserved penance for sin and mortification for atonement; and, finally, a great desire and a consistent effort to see religion and morals improve by a pious education of youth. The object, therefore, of the Congrega-tior~ is. twofold: the sanctification of its members, and the education of youth. While Father Nerinckx was busy with the establishment of the sisterhood, he did not neglect his othe~ duties or the organiza-tions he had started in his various parishes and stations for stim-ulating the spiritual welfare of his people. In 1806 at his church of Holy Mary on the Rolling Fork, he established a~ Confrater,nity of the Ros~ary, a children's Rosary Sodality called "Lilietum," a Confraternity of the Scapular; and, in 1809 in St.' Charles 135 SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious Church, he founded the first Holy Name Society in thee United States. Records of these organizations are still extant. It is interesting to note that there were 1,100 names on his Rosary roster; more than 600 on his Lilietum or children's Rosary Sodality list; 971 on his Scapular Society record; and 259 on his Holy Name Society register, every name. carefully written in his own hand. That Father Nerinckx was blessed with remarkable and dis-criminating foresight is shown by his efforts in behalf of the colored race in beginning a Negro oblate sisterhood in connec-tion with the Sisters of Loretto. Father Nerinckx was the product of the best European civilization, and he naturally found the conditions of slavery most repellent to his Christian principles. This is disclosed by his paternal solicitude for the wretched lot of the colored man in the United States. Whether by foresight, or by study of the American type of freedom and justice, he must have been convinced that the emancipation of the Negro would Come sooner or later in the young republic for he bent his efforts to .prepare for that crucial time of transition from slavery to freedom. To Christianize and educate these erstwhile slaves and to lead them to the right enjoyment of freedom, Father Nerinckx felt that the best means would be a sisterhood of their own race trained for this arduous work. Conviction for Father Nerinckx meant action, and he set to work. He arranged for the Sisters of Loretto to admit several colored girls into their school. It is on record that some of these became aspirants or postulants in May, 1824; but, after the death~of Father Nerinckx the following August, we hear no more of these young women. Whatever records of subsequent decisions in their regard that may have been kept were lost in the disastrous fire that laid the Motherhouse in ashes in 1858. Dr. J. A. Burns, C.S.C,, in his able work, The Catholic School System in the United States, says that this project of Father Nerinckx's, the Negro sisterho'od, "is in itself sufficient to stamp him'as a man whose educational ideas ran far ahead of his time." 136 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX Bishop Flaget, greatly~, pleased with ,the success bf the Sisters of Loretto in their educational work for girls, Wished to provide the same opportunities for boys., He asked Father Nerinckx to establish a similar society for young'men, the object of which would be the education of orphan boys and boys of the middle class, "whose poverty so often" prevents the"Church and state from being benefitted by their talents." Father Nerin~kx's mind seems to have been running ~ilong the same lines, for he very readily acquiesced to his superior's request and set to 'work at once. With money collected from his own congreg~ltions and three thousand dollars collected by the sisters, the good missibnary purchased a farm which he named Mt.Mary. The loss of the main building and four smaller ones by fire .early in 1819 blighted the .prospects for the time being .and caused Father Nerinckx to underake a second voyage to Europe to appeal to his countrymen for funds and possible vocations. He returned in 1821 accompanied by several, fine young men, toost of whom joined the Jesuits, among them the renowned Fathers Peter J. de Smet and J. F. Van Assche. On!y three came to Kentucky aS aspirants for the brothei'hood, and one of these died very'shortly after his arrival. During Father Nerinckx's pro. tracted stay in Europe, Reverend William Byrne, who had been appointed to attend Holy Mary's and St. Charles's congregations, had opened a.boys' college on the property .Father Nerinckx had bought. He was decidedly averse, on the return of the older priest, to yielding possession, so Father Nerinckx had re-course to the 'bishop. Of this~ interview .Father Howlett writes, "Father Nerinckx expostulated with Bishop Flaget. over the changed destiny of the farm; but the bishop did not care to dis-lodge Father Byrne, who had begun with his sanction," Rather than give occasion, for scandal~ the weary traveler in humble sub. mission to authority diopped, the matter. Eventually, lacking encouragement, 'funds," and property, he gave up his cherished plans for a brotherhood. 137 SISTER M. MATILDA Review ]or Religious Father Nerinckx was always a student. In his four years of forced seclusion at the hospital in [Dendermonde he must have spent much time in close application, for his manuscripts of this period, if printed, would form eight or ten octavo volumes. They were in Latin, a language in which he excelled. Much that he wrote then and afterwards has been lost, but ~omething still remains in the convent at Dendermonde, and some manuscript volumes" on pastoral theology and kindred subjects may be found in the parish library at Meerbeke. "These show the depth of his trained mind, filled with an elaborate store of Scripture, the Fathers, the history of the Church, and sound theological prin-ciples~" 'Shortly after his death an act of vandalism destroyed all his b~,oks and writings except his little Treatise on Mission-arz'es and an exposition of the Reign of Satan, edited by a Dominican Father from notes left by the Belgian priest. These and his beautiful letters to Bishop Carroll prove he was a master of Latin compositibn. His original Rule, written in English, fbr the Sisters .of Loretto and his hand-penned catechism written in Flemish are' treasured at their motherhouse: Father Nerinckx in his nineteen years on the Kentucky missions built rio fewer than fourteen churches. Some o~ these he literally built with his own hands; in fact, he e~pended some manlaal labor on all Of them. They were mostly of logs; the last on the list was of brick and is still in a good statd o'f preserva-tion. The fourteen follow: H61y Mdry, Calvary, 1805i St. Cl'iarles, 1806; St. Clara's, 1808; St. Bernard's, Casey Creek, 1810; St.' Romoldus (now St. Romuald), Hardinsburg, Breck-enridge C6unty, 1810-1816; St. Paul's, Grayson County, "181.1; St, Augustine's,' Grayson Springs, (~rayson County, 1811; St. John.'s,'Rude's Creek, Hardin County, 1812;' St. John Baptist, Bullitt' County, 1812; St. Anthony's, Long Lick,. Breckenridgh County,i: 1812; St. Benedict's~ Spencer. ¯ Cdunty," 1'815; St. Augusfine's; Lebanon," 1817, finished b)~ Father Deparcq in i820; St. Vincent's,: New Hope, 1819; Holy Cross,.1823. This last is still used as a parish church. ., ~. May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX This zealous Belgian priest loved the house of God." Log churches of necessity h~d tO be plain, their furnishings in k~eep.- ing with the poverty of the faithful; but the pastqr so. ught the very best for the altar, especially for the tabernacle where the Bl~ssed Sacrament was to dwell. Everything connected with the Holy .Mysteries fired his devotion. Unless on a long journey or gravely ill never did he miss offering the Holy Sacrifice. On each of his journeys to Euro.pe, the first, in the interests of the sisterhood, the second, in that of the intended brotherhood', Father Nerinckx accumulated and brought to Kentucky church furnishings, paintings, sacred vessels, etc., estimated at over fifteen thousand dollars. Thus were the humble log churches enriched for divine services. He kept nothing for himself so that it was said at his death that his only legacy to the Lorettines was an unbounded confidence in Divine Providence and a very deep devotion to the Suffering Jesus and the Sorrowful Mary, devotions he instilled into them from the very beginning of the Institute. Having begun the study of English when he was past forty years of a, ge, Father Nerinckx never became versatile in its use. Hence, though learned and of solid judgment, he could never be credited with brilliancy of speech or writing in English. His discourses were plain, mattei'-of-fact instructions, couched in broken English with no ornamental figures, to enhance them. Were it not for his earnestness and sincerity and the spiritual impact of his words, he probably would have been considered a tiresome and disagreeable speaker. He sought not for elo-quence, but only that he might carry God's message to souls; and this he did in his humble, simple speech. Archbishop Martin John Spalding writes of this Kentucky missionary: M. Nerinckx," though kind and polite to all, wasorather austere in his manners, as well as rigid in his discipline. He WaS, however, always 'much mord rigid with himself, than with others. He never lost a mo-ment. He. knew well ~hat a priest who does his duty has little time to spare for idle conversation. Wherever good was to be done, or a 139 SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious soul to be saved', there he was. found, by day or by night, in rain or in sunshine, in winter or in summer. When not actually engaged in the ministry, he was always found at home, employed in prayer or in study. Reverend William J. Howlett, author of Life of Req;erend Charles Arerittckx, says: In matters of faith, religion, and moral practices he was stern, and made no compromise with sin and its dangers. Cursing, drinking, horse-racing and dancing were either sinful or productive of sin, and he op-posed them rigorously . If in his preaching he showed no mercy to sin, in the confessional he had the heart of a father for his sinful chil. dren, and in all his missions his heaviest work was in the confessional, which Bishop Spalding says, 'was usually thronged by penitents, from early dawn until midday, all of whom, without one exception, were deeply attached to him.' Nor do we hear that he was in the habit of refusing absolution to any greater extent than a prudent confessor does today.'. Duty was a great thing wi~h him, and when duty called him he brought into action those great powers of mind and soul which he so modestly disclaimed. These characteristics, while they made him diffident" ot himself, gave him a wonderful estimate of the faith and practices of the Church, and a dread of evel-ything that sezmed to him to be a departure from.her teachings or a relaxation in her time-honored discipline. He could never become a heretic, for he held too firmly to what he had been taught; he never could become a schismatic, for authority was to him the most sacred thing in the world after his faith; he never could become a sinner, for the shadow of sin was a nightmai.e ~o him. These three things, with his great desire for the honor of God and the salvation of his own and his neighbors' souls, will be seen to have beenthe guiding motiv'es of his life. In a letter to Bishop England, Bishop Flaget wrote of Father Nerinckx" thus: "His love for retirement wa~ such, tl~at" h~. n~ever ~aid a visit of mere Ceremony. Indeed, hi never vis-i~ edl except when the good of his neighbor or the duty of his ministry made it obligatory to do so . Praye~ appeared to be hi~ grea'tes't, and only solace, in the 'midst of his contifiual labors." And this tribute was from.his bishop. The subject of this sket'ch was a man of action as can be seerl "fro~ the variety of his 'undertakings. There remains one point still to be mentioned,, his interest in the civilizing and Christianizing .6f the Indians. ' When ~difficulties arose in Kentuck~y, Father Neririckx felt that pi~rhaps, they i:ould be effectively and. charitably settled by 140. May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX his withdrawal for atime., He was grieved to see unwarranted changes made in the rule of the Sisters of Loretto and in their schools, and he felt greater changes were still to come. If the changes came from Rome he would gladly accept--but how would Rome know the exact state of affairs? His own methods were cast aside for untried ones. Just what the deciding factor was that sent him a second time into exile, this time to Missouri, he never made known; but to Missouri he went. He performed the visitation of the Loretto house in Perry County, then trav-eled to St. Louis to meet and confer with the commissioner of Indian affairs to arrange for some Indian girls to be enrolled with the sisters at Bethlehem, the Perry County foundation.On his return journey to Bethlehem he detoured to minister to a settlement of some ten families who had not seen a priest for two years. After this last act of charity he was taken ill; he died at St. Genevieve, Missouri, on August 12, 1824. He was buried on the 14th in the sisters' cemetery at Bethlehem convent, Bishop Rosati being present and giving the final absolution. Bishop Rosati is r.eported to have said that he consideredFather Nerinckx's remains ~he most priceless treasure of his diocesel Be that as it .may, he refused Bishop Flage~'s and Father Chabrat's petitions 'for the removal of the remains~ yielding only io the diplomacy of the mother superior of Loretto. The re-enterment at Loretto Motherhouse took place in December~ 1833." : Father Nerinckx's major concrete contributions to the up-building of the Church in K.~ntucky were: the administdrin.g of the sacraments td the faithful.throughout' the" region,-th~ build[ ing of houses of worship, the organizing of districts into parishes, th'e c611ecting and. transportation of.,tho,us.ands'6f dollars~ worth of. church supplies and furnishings which he distributed to poor and needy .churches, two journeys to Europe in the interests of the Church' arid the. sist'e'rhbod which h~. h°ad fotinded in Cdn-~ junction with 'Miss Mary Rhodes and.companioris--the Congre-gation of the Sisters of Loretto, the first purely American sister-hood devoted to education founded and continuing without 1.41 SISTER M. MATILDA foreign affiliation. These, directly or indirectly, can be seen. But 0nly' the"angels of God have recorded his prayers, longings, and aspirations and measured his mental and physical sufferings, the dangers he encountered in traversing the wilderness, his penances and mortifications, his dominant virtue of humility, the frustra-tion of his desire to lead the contemplative life. Instances of some of these could be given, but the full import of them is not ours to record. His spirit lives on not alone in the religious congregation of Loretto, but in the faith of the Catholics of Kentucky, a staunch, vibrant, active Catholicity the seeds of which were planted in pioneer days by the saintly. Belgian exile, Rev-erend Charles Nerinckx. SUMMER INSTITUTES The tenth annual Theological Institute for Sisters will be con-ducted under the auspices of St. Xavier College in cooperation with the Dominican Fathers of the Province of St. Albert the Great June 24 to August 2, 1957. The double purpose of the institute is: to contribute to the spiritual development of sisters and to strengthen the preparation of religious who are teachers of religion. The basic curriculum is open to sisters without a bachelor's degree. An advanced program, for those who have completed the basic course, leads to a master's degree from the Dominican House of Studies, River Forest. For a listing of courses write to: St. Xavier College, 103rd and Central Park Avenue, Chicago 43, Illinois. In keeping with ancient Benedictine traditions and the spirit of the modern liturgical revival, St. John's Abbey, internationally known litur-gical and educational center where students may join with the monastic choir 'in chanting the divine office and may take part in solemn liturgical ceremonies, is conducting summer courses in liturgy and Gregorian chant. These courses, supl~lemented with opportunities for study of modern church music hs well as applied music in voice and organ, are designed to assist choir directors and organists in carrying out the in-structions on church music by the present Holy Father a.nd by St. Plus X. For further information write to: Dora Gunther, O.S.B., St. John!s University, Collegeville, Minnesota. (Continued on Page 175) 142 Current: Spiritual W'rit:ing Thomas ~, O'C~lhghan [Most of the readers of RE~tlE\V FOR RELIGIOUS have not the opportunity of keeping up with the numerous articles which are being written on various points of spiritual theology. It is with the intention of trying to supply for this need that we hope to publish about every six months a survey of current periodical literature. This survey will take the form mostly of quotations from, and synopses of, some of the more interesting articles which have appeared recently. For the most par~ the survey will confine itself to English language periodicals.--The Editors.] general. God Within Q. What is your ideal of sanctity? A. To live by love. Q. What is the quickest way to reach it? A. To become ~ery small, to give oneself wholly and irrevocably. Q. Who is your favorite saint? A. The Beloved Disciple, who rested on the heart of his Maste~. Q. What point of the Rule do you like best? A. Silence. Q. What is the dominant trait in your character? A. Sensitivity. What is your favorite virtue? A. Purity. What fault of character do you dislike most? A. Egoism in Q. Give a definition of prayer. A. A union of her who is not with Him who is. Q. What is your favorite book? A. Tire Soul o.f Gkris/. In it I learn all the secrets of the Father who is in heaven. Q. Have you a great longing for heaven? A. I sometimes feel homesick for heaven, but, except for the vision, I possess it in the depths of my soul. Q. What is your motto? A. 'God in me and I in Him.'~ The young Carmelite who filled out this questionnaire in the first week of her postulancy died ~fifty years ago, at ~the age of twenty-six, after just fi.ve years of~ religious life. Her~ name~ was Elizabeth Catez, but she is known today more dommonly as Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, or Elizabeth"0f Dijon. TO this young and holy Carmelite ig dedicated the .September, 1956, issue of Spiritual Life, the,gery~ fine Catholic quarterly,,published by the Discalced Carrrielite Fathers. ~This questionnaire is quoted'by Fathbr Denis of the Holy Family, O.C.D. in "A Sketch of the Life of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity," S,~iritual Life, II (1956), 149-150. THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious In "A Sketch of the Life of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity," the article from which we have taken the above-quoted ques-tionnaire, Father Denis of the Holy Family, O.C.D., gives a fine introduction to the life and doctrine of Sister Elizabeth. A fuller and more theological treatment of her spiritual doctrine he leaves to two other articles, published in the same issue, by E. I. Watkin and Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. Father Gabriel says of Sister Elizabeth that "she succeeded in con-structing a lucid synthesis of the spiritual life, corhbining . . . [an] intimate life with the Trinity and progressive assimilation to Christ" (p. 174). In fact, we might say that his entire article, "The Indwelling in Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity," is a develop-ment of that proposition. Those who center their spiritual life on the divine indwelling and who desire to live united to God-within will find in this issue of Spiritual Life some fine, spiritually nourishing matter. They will also understand why Sister Elizabeth, who "found he'aven on earth, since heaven is God, and God is in my soul," is rapidly becoming a favorite among contemplative souls. It might also be added here that Elizabeth's "Prayer of a Praise of Glory to the Trinity" (p. 165). contains exce~llent subject matter for mental, prayer. The Saints St. John, recalling his vision of the blessed, wrote: "I saw a great multitude [of the' blessed in heaven] which no man could number . . ." (Apoc, 7:9). In apparent contradiction to these ~vords there appeared in the American Ecclesiastical Review an excellent and. scholarly article, written by Father John F. Bro-derick, s.J., entitled "A Census of the Saints (993-1955).'" How many saints are there? No definitive list has ever been compiled, although biographical dictionaries exist which run to several thousand names; one for Ireland alone claims three -~ Vol. CXXXV (1956), 87-115. 144 May, 1957. SPIRITUAL WRITINGS thousand. Most of these dwelt in the ancient or medieval periods. But before being able to determine the number of saints, ¯ one would first have to clarify the meaning of the word saint, and then establish what authority has the right to recognize sainthood. For up to and even beyond the year 1000 A.D. the power to designate sainthood was not rest6cted to the Holy See, as is now the case, but was left to local ecclesiastical authorities. When this process later found papal approval, explicit or tacit, it became known as equivalent canonization. But by no means all the early saints have won Roman approval; some lack official approbation of any kind. Their title has come by way of popu-lar devotion on the part of the faithful, or is due to the careless-ness or mistakes of those who put together early martyrologies, etc. Hagiography abounds in problems of this kind. The present article, however, restricts itself to those saints solemnly canonized by the popes, the form of canonization with which we are nowadays familiar. A very carefully worked-out chart, the product of considerable research, forms the heart of the article. It enumerates in chronological order--according to the date of death--all formally canonized saints from the time of the first canonization in 993 up to the present. Also noted are: the liturgical classification of each saint, age at death, year of c~inonization, vocational status (laity, secular clergy, religious), principal occupation, and land of birth. The data therein contained are analyzed in the final section of the article and many interesting points are indicated. Canon-ized saints are discovered to ~otal two hundred and eighty-three, Male saints number two hundred and twenty-seven, female fifty-six. Martyrs total sixty-nine. At death ages ranged from eleven to over one hundred. Wide variations can be detected between the date of death and canonization, the periods varying from a few months to six centuries. Well over one half of the canoniza-tions have been delayed two centuries or more, a factor which 145 THOMAS G. O'(~ALLAGHAN Review ]or Religious must be kept in mind in discussing the failure of North America to produce native saints. The laity has produced about one sixth of the saints; the secular clergy, slightly less; religious, the rest. At least thirty-five saints have been married. Of canonized religious about one fifth were women, almost equally divided between contem-platives and active institutes. In external occupations the widest range is visible, from the lowly housekeeper or farm laborer to the emperor and empress. A surprisingly high number, about forty percent, were engaged in governing as civil or ecclesiastical superiors. Founders and foundresses of religious institutes, very prominent in recent can-onizations, total sixty-six saints. More than one half ~he saints have come from the upper class in society; the rest are about equally divided between the" middle class and the numerically vast lower class. Latin coun-tries account for two thirds of the saints, especially Italy with ninety-five and France with fifty-five. Three saints have been born in the Western Hemisphere, but seventeen have labored there. The current trend is toward more frequent canonizations. In the 632 years between the first formal canonization and 1625, when Urban VIII established the modern regulations, the aver-age was fourteen per century; since then it has risen to sixty. Father Broderick, s.J., made mention of the different social classes of the saints. Another article has appeared recently which throws some light on this subject. Those familiar with second nocturns are well acquainted with parenlibus who were either nobilibus or honestis or pauperibus. But they may not be sure of the precise meaning of these terms. Father Bull0ugh, O.P., writing primarily about Dominican saints in "'Class Dis-tin~ tion Among the Saints," an article which appeared in the August, 1956, issue of Life of the Spirit, helps to clarify the ma, tter. He suggests that these three words designate three 146 May, 19,67" SPIRITUAL WRITINGS distinct social classes and that these social classes in turn. were largely based, at least originally, on occupations. The nobiles were those who had money and property andwere employers; the honesti were merchants or artisans, mostly self~employed, who made a living at thei~r~ own particular work or trade; the pauperes were wage earners, obtaining their money by working for some-one else. (If that is so, it is going to be difficult to find any saints who were born, as the pleasantry has it, of paltperibus sed honestis parentibus.) ~. Liturgy in School Under the 'title, "Toward a Living Parish," Mongignor Martin B. Hellriegel frequently contributes to Worship a serids of' practical suggestions for increasing the li~ur'gical life pa~:ish. His excellent suggdstions, however, need not be limited to the parish ch'urch. Man~, of them could--by a little imagina-tive adaptation--prove most hi.-lpful to Catholic school teachers; even college professors. At times teachers would like to make a few interesting remarks to their classes about some liturgical feast which the Church is celebrating, or they may be looking for ideas as to how the students might celebrate in their school some of the more important feasts. Very often they will find in Monsignor Hellriegel's articles exactly what they are looking for. For example, in the October, 1956, issue of Worship he comments on some of the feasts which occur during that month. He opens the article with some reflections on the feast of the Guardian Angels, offering fine matter which could be used for a talk of three or four minutes to Catholic students. Then he makes some practical points about the way that this feast could be celebrated in the parish. One or two of these points could easily be used by teachers for school. The next feast on which he com'ments is 6ur Lady's Maternity, celebrated on the eleventh of October. This is a much more deeply signifidant "Mother,s Da~,'; than the second Sunday in May. What afine point that would make in talking 147 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious to children: our Lady's "Mother's Day." Is it not true that many parochial school teachers could easily pass over this feast without even a mention of it? For the feast of St. Luke, October 17, there is a very simple suggestion for a reverent display of the Holy Gospel. This cbuld be used to remind the students not only of "the holiness and dignity of the Gospel, and of the respect we owe to it, but also of our indebtedness to the holy evangelists . . . who have recorded for us the 'God spell,' the good tidings of the life and teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ" (p. 573). Today Halloween is too often identified with "trick or treat" or vandalism. Monsignor explains the original spirit be-hind the festivities held on the eve of All Saints, or Hallow's" Eve (from which is derived the word Hallo,ween). Just the explanation which he gives would be an enlightenment to so many Catholic school children. There are also detailed sugges-tions for the celebration of this feast in a parish, some of which could profitably be adapted for school use. If Catholic school teachers could find the time to glance through "Toward a Living Parish" whenever it appears,' they would surely find some helpful matter for their classroom. Prayer In Life of the Spirit Dora Aelred Sillem, O.S.B., has an interesting article on the relation between liturgical and con-templative prayer.:' Many feel that there is a certain conflict be-tween contemplative and liturgical prayer, that they even attract different temperaments and distinguish vocations. It must be admitted that some divergence does exist: there is the tendency of contemplative prayer to simplicity, while the liturgy has a certain "surface multiplicity . . . with its complexities of cere-monial and chanti its elaborate and absorbing symbolism, its richness of doctrinal content and conceptual teaching" (p. 209}. :l"The Liturgy and Contemplative Prayer," Id.[~' o, l/re Sp]ril, XI (1956), 209-217. 148 May, 1957 SPIRITUAL WRITINGS Yet, if we consider the historical relation between the liturgy and mental prayer, it will become evident that they have long existed together with mutual dependence. The primitive liturgy allowed of pauses for silent prayer, of which our [lectam'us genua and levate are a token survival to which the restored Holy Week liturgy has given back a measure of reality; and Cassian, describing the psalmody of the Egyptian monks, ~hows us how, after each psalm or section of a psalm, a pause was made for private and wordless prayer. In ancient and medieval monastic life, the hours of lectio divina, continuous in theme and sources with the liturgy, were intended to be hours of prayer as well as of study. Towards the end of the Middle Ages, partly perhaps as the more scientific and metaphysical study of theology replaced the older, more devotional and more readily prayerful lectio divina, provision was made, both among monks and friars, for set periods of mental prayer; and this obligation has passed into canon law and into the constitutions of all religious families . At all times, vocal liturgical prayer has been nourished by and overflowed into solitary and wordless.prayer (pp. 215-216). Not only has there been this historical mutual relationship, but the very natures of liturgical and contemplative prayer show their close interdependence. Thus, the author concludes his article with these words: "It is essential to consider liturgical prayer and mental prayer, not as competitors, still less as alterna-tives, but as two indispensable expressions of a single life of prayer in Christo, accepting their diversity not as a tension or a problem, but as an enrichment, convinced of their mutual dependence and of their power to deepen each other indefinitely" (p. 217). Our Lady's Titles Father Gerald Vann, O.P., has a few suggesti6ns--and he insists that they are nothing more than suggestions--about the way that some of the titles of our Blessed Mother in the "Litany of our Lady" might be more fittingly translated.4 Many titles in the Litany are "either poor translations or indeed downright mistranslation~, or at any rate show a lamentable lack of any sense of language, any feeling for the beauty of words" (p. 438). Here are some of the present tittles put side by side with "Notes on Our Lady's Litany," Worship, XXX (1956), 437-441. 149 THOMAS°G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious some of Father Vann's suggested changes: Mother most amiable --Mother so lovablei Mother inviolate--Mother ever a Maiden; Mother most pure~--Mother of .perfect love; Holy Virgin of virgins--Holiest of all virgins; Virgin most vener, able--Virgin.whom we revere; Virgin most renowned--Virgin whose praises' ,~e sing; Seat of wisdom--Fountain of wisdom; St~iritual vessel--Chalice~ of spiritual life; Singular vessel of dev'otion--Splendid chalice o.f dedication. Father Vann not ohly suggests these and other new translations, but also e~pl~ins in his. brief article the reasons why these new 'titles could be justified as prdferable. Certainly r~an.~, of the chan~es suggeste'd are more ineaningful, as well.as being more beautifully phrased, and would thereby be helpful in our "Litany devotion. The Creation and Fall Those who teach Christian doctrine, whether in the grades, higl~ s.chool, or college, have undoubtedly found many problems in t.ryin, g t.o~interpret the sci:iptural account of the cr~eation of the world ,.and man, of the .origin of woman, of the first, sin, etc. For the first three chapters of Genesis, in which these matters occur, are one of the most difficult sections of the Bible.' But Father "H. J.: Richards, although fully appreciating the difl~- cuities, believes that it is possible to say something worthwhile on ~hese first three chapters and on the essential matter which they contain', without getting hopelessly enmeshed in exegetical difficulties. He fulfills this purpose in "The Creation and the Fall," a very brief but solid and interesting article ap.pefiring in the October, 1956, number of Scripture. The ,author of Genesis, Father Richards insists, was not a scientist. He was ,"concerned with .God's plans for the world and for mankind. He does not set out to teach us natural sciences. He has quite enough to do to teach us our super. natural science, of the one supreme God to whom everything owes it's existence, of man's place in God's scheme, of man's dignity an&his failure to live up to it, and of God's love for him '1'50 May, 1957 SPIRITUAL WRITINGS even in his sin" (p. 114).~ Father Richards shows very clearly how the author of Genesis attains this purpose. Let us give here an example of the refreshing way that Father writes on this matter. After explaining the account of the Creation as it appears in Chapter i, he goes on to write: And if there is a different account of creation in.Chapter 2, with man placed first on the list instead of last, don't let us get so excited over the difference that we forget to see the same point being made, that man cannot be lumped along with ~he rest of creatures. He is unique, and the rest is made for him. And if this time the 'whole story 'is more pic-turesque, with a Divine Potter modelling man with His own hands and breathing into him His own breath, don't let us be so prosaic about it that we miss the main point: man~s unique relationship with God. And if that relationship is illustrated even further by" the garden in which God walks with Adam in the cool 6f the evening, don't let us try ko find the garden on a map. Could anyone have devised a more dramatic way of presenting the clos2 intimacy with himself that God had planned for man from the beginning? It is we who hav~rfiade up the myth of an Old Testament God of thunder and terror and fear. It is not so in Genesis {p. 112}. After the creation of the universe and of man, Father Richards goes on in the same graphic way to explain the origin of woman and the place intended for her by God, the dignity of marriage, the fall of man, and God's love for him even in his sin. This short article is well worth reading. Spiritual Theology Series In th~ September, 1956, issue of Cross and Crown there begins a "series of articles which will explain the meaning and problems of. spiritual theology, or, if you wish, of the interior supernatural life of the Christian" (p. 252). The general title for this series will be "Spirituality for All," The first article, written by Father John L. Callahan, O.P., the editor of Cross and Crown, emphasized "the necessity of growth in charity" (p. 252), for it is in this charity, this l~abit of divine love, that per-fection essentially consists. From this beginning~ the series will proceed as follows to explain I) The foundations of this growth. Divine life is communicated to man through grace, the seed of glorj~ to possess grace necessarily~ im-plies the possession of the theological virtues of faith and,hope: . THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious 2) The cause of growth. Charity is the form, the life, the mover of all the virtues. In the words of St. Francis of Sales: 'A perfect life means perfect charity, for charity is the life of the soul.' 3) The models of growth. Christ is our perfect exemplar of charity, and His Blessed Mother a mirror of that model. 4) The instruments of growth. Divine life is communicated to man through the sacrarhents. 5) The first instrument of growth. This is the healing and cleans-ing work of the divine tool of baptism by which man is incorporated in Christ. 6) The aids to growth. Christ instituted the sacrament of penance to restore divine life lost bymortal sin. With this is coordinated the practice of mortification. 7)' The Mass, a means of growth. The Holy Sacrifice lived by as-pirants to a perfect life is a powerful instrument of spiritual progress. ~ 8) Holy Communion is the food for growth in spirituality, uniting the soul most intimately to the Source of grace and charity. 9) Signs of growth can be the advancement in both the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. 10) The steps of growth through the process of purgation to 1 I) The fruition, which is contemplation, or the actual experience of the divine indwelling (pp. 252-253). Religious in a Diocese The editorial in the December, 1956, issue of Spiritual Life says: "The total function of every Catholic diocese in the world is to gather together as many men as possible into the life of Christ, and commit them to His mission. To do this with maximal efficiency, it needs the unified, intelligent, complemen-tary, planned activity of parishes and religious orders" (p. 201). What contribution can religious institutes make to this total function of the diocese? Father James Egan, O.P., gives the answer in "A Religious Order and the Spiritual Life of a Dio-cese" (pp. 217-226). "The purpose of this article is to explore other [i.e. than schools and parishes] possible services that a religious order or its members can render to the spiritual life of a diocese" (p. 219). If.such is the purpose of this article, it should be of interest to religious. Let us see very briefly some of the contributions which Father Egan believes a religious institute could and should make for the spiritual service of a diocese. 152 May, 1957' SPIRITUAL WRITINGS The first two immedi~lte fruits which should come to a diocese from the presence of a religious foundation within it are: first, the life of prayer and mortification of the religious should draw down God's rich blessings upon all the ~nembers of the diocese, bishop, priests, and parishioners; secondly., the manifest sp.iritual joy and.peace of religious should be a con-stant lesson to all who come in contact with them that true peace and happiness can be found in this world, provided it" is not sought from the world. Some religious .institutes, like the Benedictines, can offer to the faithful, especially those who have grown to appreciate the place of the liturgy in their life, the occasion of assisting, at the liturgy in all its full splendor. Other religious aid the spir-itual life of a diocese by communicating their spiritual treasures to the faithful by means of third orders. Closely linked "to this latter is the practice of spiritual direction. Many diocesan, priests, because of other spiritual demands, simply have not the time which would be required for the spiritual direction of those parishioners who would request and/or need it. Religious foun-dations in a diocese, however, would mean for the laity a greater Opportunity for that spiritual direction which is so necessary for Christian perfection. Among the other activities frequently carried on by religi-ous in a diocese are those of the parish mission, directed primarily perhaps to the conversion of sinners, and the retreat, usually aimed more at the nourishment of a ~ieeper spiritual life. The healthy spread and growth of the retreat movement, carried on mostly by religious groups, has done much for the spiritual life of the faithful in many American dioceses. There is also the c6ntribution Which religious are making in many dioceses of making "available to the. !aity a more intimate acquaintance with theology a~d philosophy as these are linked up with the cult'ural life of the modern world" (p. 224). In this intellectua'l field '~h~re could also be mentioned the help 153 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN .which~ many religious groups, ~particularly the Paulists, can offer by way of convert instruction. '~ Las.tly, it will do well to recall--although it might seem strange --that the presence in the diocese of those religious institutes who have members in the mission field means an opportunity for the faithful of a diocese to offer both men and support to the mission-ary activity of the Church. That is a blessing not merely for the religious insti~tites, but for the diocese as well. "Each religious group," concludes Father Egan, "has its own contribution to make; yet" each must not insist on i~s own good to the detriment of the common good of a diocese, which is in the care of the bishop: ~On the other hand, the bishop must respect the distinctive character of the religious groups in his diocese. With such mutual respect, the common good of all the faithful will" always be served by the united efforts of dios-cesan and religious priests" (p. "22'6). DELAYED VOCATIONS Spiritual directors who are asked about religious orders or con-gregations of sisters that have the policy of accepting older women are frequently at a loss as to where to direct these applicants for further information. If orders or congregations which have such a policy will send their title and address, the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS may be able to publish a°list in a subsequent issue. The age limitatioi~s for admit-tance should be specified as well as whether the foliowing classes of women are accepted: widows, married women who ard legally sep-arated permanently with ecclesiastical permission, those who have been ifivalidly married in the past but who have sincerely amended their lives and would-now like to enter the dbnvent. GUIDANCE FOR RELIGIOUS It seems that some who were planning on. using, Guidance for 'Rel,glous, b~,' ~ath~r Gerald Keily, S.J'.~, insummer sessmns ai'e w'on~ . dering, whether they may gtill obtain copies. F6r~kheir information;~we should like to say ~hat the second p~iht~ng of the book is now com-. pleted, and it may be obtainefl~from The Newman Press, Westminster, 154 Apost:at:es and 'Fugi!:ives I. Definition of Apostasy and Flight 1. Definition of apostasy (c. 644, ~ !). ApOstates and fugitives leave religion voluntarily but illicitly, pe~manentiy in the case of the apostate, temporarily in that of ~the fugitive. Both' me~ and women may be apostates or fugitives. Aft ~ipostate from religion is a professed of perpetual vows who either leaves or remains outside of every house of his institute without any valid permission, and manifests externally, either explicitly or impliC-itly, the absolute intention of never returning to any house of his institute. (a) Perpetual vows are necessary, Novices~ and postulant~ can-not be apostates. They are also free to leave religion at any time. A professed of temporary vows cannot be an apostate; nor is he a fugitive if he leaves religion with the expressed inten-tion of not returning, since a fugitive is one who has the inten-tion of returning (cc. 19; 2219, § 3). Solemn vows are always perpetual; but perpetual simple vows, whether in an order or a congregation, also suffice for apostasy. (b) Illicit absence required. The illicit absence necesgary for apbs-tasy is verified by leaving the religious house without any valid permission (explicit, implicit, presumed, tacit, particular, general) or, if one h~s permission to go out, by ~remaii~ing outside the house beyond the length of any valid permission. The re!igiou~ must be illicitly outside any house of his institute, e: g., ~a religious who goes to another .house of his own institute without any permission does not verify the illicit absence demanded for apostasy. (c) Intention of never returning required. "Apostasy demands that religious obedience be cast off completely and not merely to a particular superior or superiors. The ~intention'~ therdfore must be not to return to any hous~ of his institute. The inten- 155 JOSEPH F. ~ALLEN Review for Religious tion ,must also be absolute, not conditional. For example, a religiou~ who has the intention of not returning to his institute unless he is transferred to another house has a conditional, .not an absolute, intention and is not an apostate. He is an apostate as soon as his intention becomes absolute. This intention must be externally manifested. The external manifestation may be by any means sufficient to express an intention of ihe will," e. g., orally, in writing, by gestures, or facts. The intention is manifested explicitly if th~ religious states orally or in writing that he is leaving the institute forever. It is mani-fested implicitly by any fact that implies the intention of leaving the institute forever, e. g., if he attempts or contracts marriage, assume~ a permanent employment, begins a course of ,studies, or has all his personal belongings sent to him. (d) Presumption of such an intention (c. 644, ~ 2)- If there is no certain proof that the religious has ,manifested, this inten-tion, he is p~Tesumed to have done so and to be an apostate after an illicit absence of one month, ,e. g., January. 12-February 13, provided he has not actually returned during this time nor mani-fested to his superior the intention =of returning. Ii~ in these circumstances hE claims that ~he was not an apostate,, he will have to prove his assertion by establishing the lack of at ieast one ~f the essential elements of apostasy, e. g., that he was not absent illici.tly, that he did not express the intention, of. not returning, or .th.at he was-physically or morally unable to return or correspond with his superior. 2. Definition of flight (c. 644, §-3).~ A fugitive is a .professed religigus of either perpetual or temporary vows' or a member of a' society without .public vows in which common life is a grave obligation who: 1° either leaves or actually remains outside every house, of.his institute without .any valid permission beyond three complete ~days or. e'xtemally, manifests, eXplicitl~ or im-plicitly, the intention 'of.prolong!ng his absence for .this same time; 2° ~but with tbe~ intention of returning to at least some 156 May, 1957 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES house of his institute. An~ professed, oeven of only temporary vows, can be a fugitive. The concepts of leaving or remaining outside without any valid permission are to be understood in the same sense as explained above for an apostate. (a) Beyond three full days. An apostate intends to sever him-self completely from religious obedience, and it is therefore required that he externally manifest the intention of never re-turning to his institute. A fugitive is one who intends to with-draw himself from religious obedience for a notable period of time. This intention also must be externally manifested. There-fore, flight is verified at any moment in an illicit absence that the religious manifests explicitly or implicitly the intention of pro-tracting such an absence for a notable period. Common opinion determines this period as beyond three full days, .e.g., if begun on Monday, the notable absence i~ attained on Friday. The sole fact of an illicit absence beyond three full days is an implicit manifestation of the intention of withdrawing from religious obedience for a notable period of time. However, since many au'thors demand an actual illicit absence beyond three days for flight and say nothing of the case of an intention of notable absence, the crime of flight is not ~certainly vei'ified and the pe'nalties are not incurred unless the illicit "absence is actually prolonged beyond three cJays. When' the'intention or actual absence is for a less~r period, even if for a seriously sinful pur-pose, the case is not consi'dered one of flight but of a mere illicit or furtive departure from religion. (b) With the intention of returning. It is presumed, that the religious has this intention of returning unless he manifests externally the intention of never returning, in which case his intention is that of an apostate. It i~, thdrefore, not ndk~ssary to manifest externally khe~intention of returning, which is' con-tained in the intention of depaFting from the ifistitute' only ]~or a time. If his intention is' never to return to a partidulaF house or houses but to return to at least some hohse of his institute, his in~tehtion is still that~ of a fugitive and 'not o'f an apostate. 1.57 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, Review for Religious Apostasy is not a partial but a complete severance of religious obedience. II. Canonical Penalties for Apostasy and Flight 3. For apostasy (c. 2385). (a) Excommunication. An apostate incurs ipso facto an excommunication reserved to his own higher superior if the delinquent is a member of a clerical exempt institute or to the ordinary of the place where the absolution from the excommunication is given ff the delinquent is a mem-ber' of any other type of institute. (b) Prohibition of legitimate ecclesiastical acts (c. 2256, 2°). An apostate incurs ipso facto an exclusion from the licit exercise of legitimate ecclesiastical, acts. The more general and prac-tical prohibitions of this penalty are that the religious may not licitly exercise the administration of ecclesiastical property as a superior, treasurer, or member of a council, vote in an ecclesias-tical election, or be a sponsor in baptism or confirmation. This penalty remains after his return and after an absolution from the excommunication, but a local or religious ordinary can dis-pe. nse from it in virtue of c. 2237 in either public or occult cases. In more urgent occult cases confessors can suspend the penalty if it cannot be observed without scandal or infamy. They must impose' the obligation of having rec6urse within a month to the Sacred Penitentiary or the ordinary and of observing the man-dates of either (c. 2290, § 1). In an extraordinary case when recourse is impossible, the confessor can dispense and give the mandates himself according to the norm' of c. 2254, ~ 3 (c. 2290, § 2). (c) Privation of privileges. An apost~ite incurs ipso facto a privation of the valid use of all privileges granted by the Holy See to religious in ge.neral and to his own institute, e. g., exemp-tion, indulgence~s. It is probable that he is not deprived of suffrages, since these are not a privilege. This penalty, also remains, as ab. ove, but can be dispensed by a local or religious 158 May, 1957 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES ordinary., The power of the confessor is the same. (d) Perpetual loss of active and passive voice. If he returns, the apostate is perpetually del~rived of active and passive voice. Therefore, he is deprived perpetually of the right of voting val-idly in any electoral chapter, whether general, provincial, or local, and of the right of receiving validly any offce that is con-ferred by election. He can receive an office that is conferred by appointment, and a religious woman retains the right of voting for the prolongation of the term of the ordinary confessor (c. 526). This .penalty also remains after the absolution from the excommunication. In occult cases it can be dispensed "by the local or religious ordinary, but in publii: cases only by the Holy' See (c. 2237, ~ 1, 3°). The power of the ~onfessor is the same as above. Religious ordinaries can have the po~er of dispens-ing from this penalty in public casek in virtue of a privilege possessed by their institute.' (e) To be otherwise punished by superiors. Canon 2385 com-mands that a returned apostate be otherwise punished by his loc~,l or higher superiors in conformity with the constitutions and in accordance with the gravity of his crime. If any such ferendae senten/iae danonical penalties are prescribed in the constitutions of a clerical exempt .in.stitute, the superior is. ordi-narily obliged to inflict them buts'according to the norms of c. 2223, ~ 3. If" canonical penalties are not so pi'escrilSed; the superiors of the same institutes cain iriflicto canonical penalties, penances, and penal remedies when scandal or special ~ra¢ity was ~erified in the transgression, according~ to the norm of c. 2222, ~ 1. Superiors in other institutes c~ln inflict only the ordinary and private penances in use in the par'ticu[ar institute. ¯ .4. For flight (c. 2386). (a) General suspension. A religious fugitive who is a .priest, deacQn, or subdeacon ind[urs by" the ve.ry ~fact of.t0e.flight a gener~! suspe~ns!on that'~is reserved i,n.:,,exa~ct!y ~Cf. Riesner, /ll~ostates attd Vugitfiw's, /rom "Religious lnstitittes,~91; Jone, :Commentariura in Codicem luris Canonici.'.III, 553; ~Cloran, Pre~ie~'s.an,t Prac-tical Cases, 296. i;59 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious the same way as the excommunication for apostasy explained above. The suspension and other punishments of this canon certainly "extend also to thd clerical and lay members of clerical societies 'without public vows. It is probable that c. 2386 does not extend to lay societies without public' vows, since the Code Commission applies it explicitly only to clerical societies and the canon itself speaks of a religious fugitive. Therefore, in fact the canon does not extend to lay societies (cc. 19; 2219, § 1).~ (b) Privation of office. A fugitive incurs ipso facto the pri: ration of any office that he may hold in religion. Office is to be taken in a wide sense and, consequently, includes-that of pastor, parochial vicar, of any sup.erior, whether general, provincial, Or local, of any councilor or treasurer, master or assistant master of novices, of junior p3ofessed, tertians, general or prox(incial sec-retary, principal of a school, director of studies or schools.3 The fugitive is" deprived of all offices he now holds but is not rendered incapable of being elected or appointed to the same or different offices in the future. Since' it is a question of office in the wid~ sense (c. 145), this penalty can be dispensed by the local or religious ordinary,t The power of the confessor is the same as above. (c) To be otherwise punished on his return. Canon 2386 com-mands that the punishments prescribed in the constitutions for returned fugitives be inflicted; and, if the constitutions prescribe nothing on the matter, the higher superior is to inflict punish-ments according to the gravity of the offense. If any ferendae sentenliae canonical penalties are prescribed for flight in the constitutions of a clerical exempt institute, the superior designated in the constitutions is ordinarily obliged to inflict these penalties, ~ Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, 330; Cappello, De Censuris, n. 539; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 968; Cocchi, Commentarium in Codicem luris Canonlci, VIII," n. 262; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome luris Cano.nici, III, n. 590; Jone, op. cir., III, 555; Schaefer, De Religlosis, n. 1565; Wernz-Vidal, lus Canonicum, VII, n. 521. z Cf. Coronata, Institutiones'luris Canonici, IV, n. 2191; Riesner, op. cir., 102. 4Cloran, op. cir., 86; 204-05. 160 May, 195"; APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES but according to the norms of c. 2223, §. 3. If canonical penal-ties are not so prescribed, the higher superior of the same insti-tutes can inflict canonical penalties, penances, and penal rem-edies when scandal or special gravity was verified in the trans-gression, according to the norm of c. 2222, ~ 1. Higher superi-ors in other institutes can inflict only the ordinary and private penances in use in the particular institute. III. The Obligations of Apostates and Fugitives (c. 645, .~ 1) 5. Apostates and fugitives are freed from none of the obliga-tions of their institute aild are consequently obliged by its vows, Rule, constitutions,~ordinances, and customs. They have a seri-ous obligation in conscience to return as soon' as is morally possible to their institute. To be worthy of sacramental absolu-tion, they must actually return, sincerely intend to return, or at least sincerely intend to submit themselves to the directions of their superiors. If the apostate or fugitive considers that he can no longer fulfill the obligations of the religious life, theforinali-ties necessary for an indult of secularization are to be initiated. If the return of the culpable religious involves grave inconveni-ence, superiors may permit him to remain outside religion until the ,indult of secularization has been obtained.~ These same obligations.are true of a professed of temporary vows who illicitly leave~ or remains outside his institute with the intention of never returning, even0though canonically he is neither an apostate nor a fugitive. IV. Obligations of Superiors with regard to Apostates and Fugitives (c. 645, ~ 2) . 6. Obligations. All the superiors of the apostate or fugitive but primarily the immediate higher superior are obliged to find him, effect his return, and receive him back if he is. sincerely repen-tant. This ,obligation in the case of an apostate or fugitive nun falls on the local ordinary of her monastery. From charity the ~Cf. Creusen, Religious Men and PVomen in the Code, n. 342; Bastien, Dir,'ctoire Canoniqu~', n. 622; Jombart, Trait/ de Droit Canonique, I, n. 909. 161 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious ordinary of the place .where she is s.taying should give l~is assis-tance as also any other local or~linary whose efforts can be help-ful. If the monastery is subject in fact to regulars, the obliga-tion extends cumulatively also to the regular superior. Superiors may fulfill this obligation personally or through another. At times, another religious, a priest, friends, or relatives may have greater influence with the offender. Superiors, especially of religious women, will frequently be compelled to deal with the delinquent through another to avoid the danger of scandal to the laity or of infamy to the institute. The seeking of the offender is always to be done with prudence and charity, i. e., with the avoidance of scandal, infamy, or hardship to either the delin-quent or the institute. Since no time is prescribed by canon law, the obligation of seeking apostates and f, ugiti.ves binds only when and as long as there is probable hope that the offender will amend and return. 7. Repentant delinquent. The institute is obliged to take back the apostate or fugitive only if he is sincerely repentant, . The institute has the right of proving the sincerity of his repentance on his return by a period of trial. If sincere repentance is lack-ing, .the superior should .counsel the religious to ask for an indult of secularization or, if he will not do this, begin the. formalities of a dismissal, If he appears repentant but his return and pres-ence can be a cause of trouble to the institute and superiors find serious difficulty/ in receiving him back, they may present the facts of the c~.se to the Sacred Congregation of Religious and await its decision.~ - ~" 8. Delinquent unwilling to return. If the apostate or fugitive is. unwilling ~0 return, superiors should ounsel him;to ask for an i"nduit of secularization; if he will not do thi~, the~) are to ~'resort to dismissal. A religious ~of temporary vows who is.a fugi-tive or' who illicitly leaves or remains outsidd the' institute with the intention of never returning may be dismissed because of this one act. His action is a crime or equivalenyly such and is of greater import tha,n.the "serious reason demanded in c. 647. 162 May, 1957 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES Superiors are to judge fro~ the culpability of this act, the type of religious life he had lived in the past, hope of amendment, scandal .given, harm or inconvenience to the institute in retaining him, and from other pertinent circumstances whether he should be dismissedfl V. Dismissal of a Professed of Perpetual Vows for Apostasy or Flight 9. For apostasy. The supposition is that superiors have striven to effect the return of the delinquent and he will not return. He is then to be counselled to ask for an indult of secularization. If he will not do this, superiors are to begi~n the admonitions neces-sary for dismissal. It is the common opinion that the dismissal of an apostate should not be done with precipitation and by merely fulfilling the letter of the law, i. e., by giving the first admonition at once, the second three day.s later, and then after an interval of six days forwarding the matter to the competent authority for .dismissal. One or two authors even state that three months should be allowed to elapse before the formalities of dismissal are begun. This appears to be an exaggeration of a somewhat similar norm that existed before the code. It would be prudent to allow abotit two months to elapse between the crime and the completion of the formalities requisite for dis° missal.7 An admonition lookii~g to dismissal may also be given to a repentant apostate or fugitive who has returned to his insti-tute, since his crime furnishes the basis for an admonition,s 10. For flight. The supposition i~ the same as in the preceding paragraph; and the same recommendation of a space of" about two months applies here also, particularly since flight is a lesser crime than apostasy. Frequently, therefore, the religious will be presumed to be an apostate, because an illicit absence of a month gives the presumption of apostasy. If the religious will not °Cf. Palombo, De Dimissione Reli#iosorum, n. 153, 4. 7 Cf. Larraona, Commentarittm Pro Reli#iosis, 4-1923-178. 8Cf. cc. 649-651, § 1; 656 Goyen~che, De Relioiosis, 203. 163 JOSEPH F. GALLEN petition an indult of secularization, the formalities of a dismissal are to be begun. VI. Support and Dowry of an Apostate or Fugitive 1 i. The Code of Canon Law does not oblige the institute to sup-port an apostate or fugitive. Such support may be given, espe-cially when it will aid or effect the return of the delinquent. It would often serve only to prolong the absence. The institute has no obligation to give a charitable subsidy to a religious woman except when the religious wishes to return but~ superiors do not wish to receive her back because of scandal, harm, or hardship, and the delinquent is forced to'live outside religion until she obtains an indult of secularization or the case is settled by the Holy See.~. The capital sum of the dowry is to be returned to a pro-fessed religious, woman who definitively leaves the institute, licitly or illicitly, whether her vows have been dispensed or not (c. 551, ~ 1). A fugitive from religion is only temporarily absent from her institute and therefore the dowry is not to be restored to her. Since c. 551, ~ 1, makes no distinction between a licit and illicit definitive departure, it is the more'probable opinion that the dowry should be restored to an apostate religious woman when it is certain that she will not return. It is also probable that the institute is not obliged to return the dowry until the apostate is secularized or dismissed, .since mere apostasy does not canon-ically and completely sever the apostate from her institute. The same doctrine is to be affirmed of a religious woman of tempor~ary vows who.illicitly leaves, or remains outside of the institute with the intention of not returning, even though canonically she is neither an apostate nor a fugitive. 9Cf. Riesner, 0,~. ciL, 134-35. 164 PRAYER FOR RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS [In the Vatican daily newspaper, Osser~,atore Romano, for February 7, 1957, there appeared the text of a prayer personally composed by the Holy Father for vocations to the religious life. The prayer has been enriched by His Holiness with the following indulgences: ten years each time it is recited and a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions, provided the prayer has been said daily for an entire month (AAS, February 27, 1957, p. 101). A translation of the prayer from the original Italian text follows:] Lot:d Jesus Christ, sublime m~del of all perfection, who not only unceasingly invite privileged souls to tend towards the loftiest of goals, but who also move them by the powerful force of Your example and the efficacious impulse of Your grace to follow You on so exalted a path, grant that many may know Your sweet inspirations and respond to them by embracing the religious state, there to enjoy Your special care and Your tender love. Grant that there may never be lacking the religious who, as the messenger of Your love, may represent You day. and night beside .the cradle of the orphan, at the bed of the suffering, and near the old and the infirm who perhaps otherwise would have no one on this earth to stretch to them a hand of pity~ Grant too that in the lowliest school as in the greatest cathedrdl there 'should always sound a voice which is an echo of Your own and which teaches the way to heaven and the duties proper to each human person; and grant that no country, however ~backward and remoLe, be deprived of the call of the Gospel inviting all peoples to enter Your kingdom. Grant that there may be multiplied and increased those flames by which the world may be further set on fire. and in which shines forth in all its splendor the spotless holiness of Your Church. Grant also that in every regiofi there may flourish gardens of elect souls who by their contemplation and their penance repair the faults of men and implore Your mercy. And grant that through the continual immolation of such hearts, through the snow-whi~e ptirity of such souls, and through the exdellence of their virtue, there may always be here on earth'a perfect and living e~ample of those children of God whom you came to reveal. Send to these battalions of your chosen ones numerous and good vocations, souls firmly determined to make themselves worthy of. such a signal grace and of the institute to which they aspire and to a~chieve this by the exact ,observance 'of their religious duties, by assiduous pr.ayer, by,constant mortification,, and by the perfect adherence of their will to Your will. Enlighten, Lord Jesus, many generous souls with the.glowing light of the Holy Spirit who is substantial and eternal love; and by the powerful" intercession of Your loving Mbther Mary enkiridle and keep burning the fire of Your charity, to the glory of the Father and of the same Spirit, who live and.reign with You, world with6ut end. Amen. 165 Survey ot: Roman Documen!:s R. I::. Smit:h, S.J. IN THE present article those documents will'be ~urveyed which appeared in /lcta ./tpostolicae Sed~is (AAS) be-tween October 1, 1956, and December 31, 1956. Accord-in~ gly, all references throughout the article are to AAS of 1956 (v. 48). Crusade for Peace It is rare indeed when over a two-week period three en-cyclicals appear in rapid succession; but this is what happened between October 28, 1956, and November 5, 1956, when events in Hungary and the Middle East p'rompted the Vicar of Christ to publish for the entire world three encyclicals. The first, pub-lished on October 28, 1956 {'AAS, pp. 741-744), consists of a plea for all true Christians to unite in a crusade of prayer for the people of Hungary and for the other peoples of Eastern Europe who are deprived of religious and civ.il liberties. The Pontiff especially p;,.~.~s that those in their early youth join this crusade of prayer for peace, for, as His Holiness says, "We put great trust especially in their supplications." The second en-cyclical was i,ssued on November 2, 1956 (AAS pp. 745-748); in it Plus XII first gives thanks to God for the appearance of what would seem to be a new era of peace through justice .in Poland and Hungary; then he turns to consider the flame of another warlike situation in the Middle East; hence he u~ges that the crusade of prayer be continued that the grave" problems confronting the world today be solved not by the way of violence but by the way of justice. The third of the encyclicals, dated November 5, 1956 (AAS, pp. 748-749), laments the new servi-tude imposed on the Hungarian people by force of foreign arms, warns ~the oppressors that the blood of the Hungarian people cries to the Lord, and urges all Christians to join together in 166 ROMAN DOCUMENTS prayer for those who have met death' in the recent painful events of Hungary. Five days later on November 10, 1956 (AAS, pp. 787- 789), the Holy Father continued his work for peace by broad-casting a message to all the nations and leaders of the world. His speech was an anguished plea for peace and freedom and concluded with the prayerful hope that the name of God may, as a synonym for peace and liberty, be a standard for all men of good will and a bond between all peoples and nations. The Vicar of Christ's plea for a crusade of prayer leads naturally to a consideration of what he had to say on the sub-ject of the apostolate of prayer when addressing the directors of the Apostleship of Prayer on S~ptember 27, 1956 (AAS, pp. 674-677). The apostolate of prayer, says the Pope, is a form of apostolic endeavor that is open to literally every ChriS-tian, no matter what his state or condition may be; nor can th6se who are engaged in an active apostolic life neglect the apostolate of prayer; for actmn must be rooted in a spirit of prayer and of virtue. All Christians, therefore, are urged to practice the apos-tolate of prayer; and it is the hope of the Supreme Pontiff that they do so by membership in the Apostleship 6f Pr~yer since this association teaches its members.to do all for the salvation of the world and to draw ever closer to the Heart of Christ. As air penetrates and joins all things, concludes Pius XII, so too the Apostleship of Prayer should be an-exercise common to all the apostolic works of the entire Church. Liturgy and Worship ~'One o'f the most important documents issued during the last months of 1956 wa~ the teXg of th.e address delivered by His ~Holiness on .September 22, 1956 (AASI pp. 71,.i-725), to the International CongreSs. of Pastora! ~Liturgy. The Holy Father .first, considers the relations that exist between the liturgy band the ~Church, relations that~ may be summed up in the following,, two ~principles: The liturgy is a living function of th~ ~hole Church; ¯167 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the liturgy is not, however, the whole of the Church. All Catholics, therefore, must, each in his own way, participate in the liturgy; but they should also remember that the liturgy does not remove the importance of priv.ate and individual worship and that it does not lessen the Church's functions of teaching and governing. The Pontiff then turns to a consideration of the relations between the liturgy of the Mass and Christ. It must not be forgotten, teaches the Holy Father, that the central element of the Eucharistic Sacrifice is that where Christ offers Himself; this takes place at the Consecration where in the act of trans-substantiation Christ acts through the person of the priest-cele-brant. Hence, wherever the consecration of bread and wine is validly effected, the action of Christ Himself is also accomplished. There can, then, be no real concelebration of Mass unless the concelebrants not only have the necessary interior intention, but also say over the bread and wine, "This is My Body"; "This is My Blood." It also follows that it is not true to say that the offering of a hundred Masses by a hundred priests is equal to the offering of Mass by a single priest in the presence of a hundred devout priests. The Holy Father next considers the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. He first corrects an erroneous explanation of Christ's presence in the Eucharist, according to which after the Consecration Christ is present only in the sense that the appear-ances of bread and wine have a real relation with our Lord in heaven. Such an explanation, Plus XII points out, does not do justice to the Eucharist, of which it carl be simply said: It is the Lord. The Holy Father concludes this section by warning against any diminishing of esteem for the presence of Christ in the tabernacle. The altar of sacrifice and the tabernacle of the rdal presence are in no way opposed to each. other, for it is the same Lord who is immolated on the altar and who is really present in the tabernacle. 168 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Finally, the Holy Father considers the divinity of Christ and the liturgy and remarks that the divinity of our Lord must not be allowed to remain on the fringe of the liturgy. It is, of course, to be expected that man should go to the Father through Christ who is man's Mediator; but it must also be remembered that Christ is" not only Mediator, but also the equal of the Father and the Holy Spirit. Several documents were issued in the last quarter of 1956 which dealt with beatification and canonization processes. By a decree of May 13, 1956 (AAS, pp. 842-843), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the reassumption of the cause of the bessed martyrs Roch Gonzalez, Alphonsus Rodriguez, and John del Castillo, priests of the Society of Jesus. Under the same date the same Congregation (AAS, pp. 843-844) also approved the reassumption of the cause of Blessed Mary Cres-centia H6ss, virgin, professed member of the Third Order of St. Francis. On August 15, 1956 (AAS, pp. 804-806), the Congregation of Rites decreed that the beatification of Pope Innocent XI could safely proceed; and on October 7, 1956 (AAS, pp. 754-759), the decree of his beatification was accord-ingly issued. On the same day (AAS, pp. 762-778) His Holi-ness delivered a lengthy panegyric on the new Blessed. Blessed Innocent XI, the Pope pointed out, directed his entire pontificate to the accomplishment of three goals: the perfecting of the re-form begun by the Council of Trent; the protection of the rights and liberty of the Church, especially in France; and. the saving of Christian Europe from the inroads of Turkish power. These three external achievements were accompanied, said the Pope, by three internal qualities: constant union with God in prayer; love of poverty joined to a desire to help those in need; and a strong purpose to seek only ~he will of almighty God. Finally, it should be noted in relation to canonization matters that on February 19, 1956 (AAS, pp. 688-691), the Congregation of Rites approved the introduction of the cause of the Cardinal Archbishop of Seville, Marcellus Spinola Maestre (1835-1906). 169 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious The Sacred Congregation of Rites on October 31," 1956 (AAS, pp. 844-845), added to the blessings of the Church by issuing a formula for the blessing of stone quarries and another for the blessing of establishments for the working and finishing of marble. The Holy Father contributed to the Church's life of worship by the message which he .broadcast to the Second National Eucharistic Congresk of the Philippines on December 2, 1956 (AAS, pp. 834-838); he urged in the course of his broadcast that Catholics should show their faith and trust in Christ's Eucha-ristic presence not so much by words or songs, as by truly Christian deeds. Finally, a broadcast of October 28, 1956 (AAS, pp. 831-834), in which the Holy Father discussed the practice of consecration to the Sacred Heart, shoold not be neglected. Since the act of consecration is an act of love and of self-dedication, says the Vicar of Christ, this act can be performed only by one in the state of grace. Moreover, to live out the act of consecration once made means that the person must be grad-ually transformed into another Christ; and the Holy Father concludes his speech by teaching that whoever consecrates him-self to the Sacred Heart enrolls himself in an army of peace which neither rests nor halts until the kingdom of Christ is estab-lished in all hearts, in all families, and in all institutions. Addresses to Doctors. Medicine and its associated fields have been the repeated subject of speeches and addresses throughout the reign of Plus XII and the last few months of 1956 saw no exception to 'this general rule. The most important of these addresses was that given by the Holy Father on September 11, 1956 (AAS, pp. 677-686), to the seventh plenary meeting of the International Association of Catholic Physicians, held at The Hague, Holland. In this radio broadcast the Supreme Pontiff discussed the matters of medical morality and of positive law dealing with medical matters. 170 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The ultimate source of all medical morality and law, begins the Pope, is to be found in the individual's right to life, to in-tegrity of body, and to the means necessary~ to preserve life and integrity. All these rights, he continues, are received by the individual directly from his Creator, not from the state or any group of states. This, means, then, that the individual does not bear the same relation to the state in medical matters that a physical part bears to the physical whole in which it exists. ~ After considering the obfligations which flow from the essen-tial conditions of. human nature and which are :measurable by objective norms and which to a considerable extent are contained in .the Ten Commandments as understood and explained by reason and the Chur~ch, the Pontiff then takes up the matter of positive medical law understood as a set of norms which have been established in a body politic to control the training and activity of physicians and which are civilly enforceable. Such positive law in medical matters, the Pope says, is necessary, since the prin-ciples of medical morality lacl~ sufficient precision to adequately cover all the concrete, medical situations that are of importance to society. Medical morality and positive medical law are in a certain sense autonomous in their respective spheres, but in the final analysis positive medical law must be subordinate to medical morality. Positive medical law, then, must never be in contra-diction, to the moral order which is expressed in medical morality. Positive law, for example, cannot permit mercy-killing nor direct abortion. A month earlier than the previous talk on August 19, 1956 (AAS, pp. 666-670), the Pontiff addressed a group of cancer specialists~ urging them to observe wheat for lack of a better name may be called medical humanism. This is an attit.ude of mind which, when treating a patient, does not limit itself to a consideration of the patient's sickness only, but considers the entire man including his economic, social, psychological, and moral conditions. .He concludes his address to these cancer specialists ~by expressing the wish that their zeal to fight the 171 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious physical evil of cancer may be matched by a zeal to combat the even greater evil which is called sin. The Holy Father also ad-dressed another group of cancer researchers on October 6, 1956 (AAS, pp. 793-797). After detailing the recent research into a cure for cancer, the Pope concludes by encouraging them in their labors, for, as he says, they are fighting one of the con-sequences that the sin of man has introduced into the world. Economic and Social Problems A number of documents issued by Plus XII in the last three months of 1956 dealt with subjects that can be termed roughly economic and social matters. On September 9, 1956 (AAS, pp. 670-673), the Holy Father addressed the First Congress of the International Association of Economists, pointing out to its members that economics, like any other science, must start with the observation of facts considered in their entirety. It was failure to see all of economic reality, says the Pontiff, that led to the contradiction betw.een the economic theory of the physi0cra.ts and the frightful social misery that actually existed in reality. Similarly too, the h/!~arxist view failed to see all of economic reality, for it eliminated all spiritual values and thereby put men into a bondage as oppressive as any slavery. The true economist, then, must embrace in his economic theory the many facets of man that affect economic reality, especially man's gift of free and personal decision. The Holy Father concludes his address by recalling to his audience the Christian ideal of poverty as a means of personal freedom and social service; although, he remarks, this ideal is not directly within the purview of economics, still economists can find in that ideal a o general orientation that will bring them valuable insights. On October 8, 1956 (AAS, pp. 798-801), the Holy Father addressed a group of owners of small businesses from the coun-tries of Germany, Belgium, .Italy, and the Netherlands. In his allocution to them the Vicar of Christ stres'sed'the necessity of small business for the stability of a country and gave his audience salutary, reminders of the relations that should exist in such busi- 172 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS nesses between owners and employees. On the Feast of Christ the King, October 28, 1956 (AAS, pp. 819-824), His Holiness spoke to a group of Italian workers on the subject of the reign of Christ in the world of labor. The reign of Christ, says the Pope, must begin in the minds of men; and, therefore, a deep knowledge of the truths of the Catholic faith must be spread among men. But the reign of Christ must also penetrate to the hearts of men that they might all become living stones of that edifice which is Christ. Moreover, the kingdom of Christ must extend even to the factories where men work that these too may be governed by His justice, which alone can bring a solution to modern social problems. And finally, the kingdom of Christ is a kingdom of love, and therefore of peace, for love of its very nature is a uniting force. In the Basilica of St. Peter on November 18, 1956 (AAS, pp. 826-831), seven thousand Italian workers from Turin were received by the Holy Father who addressed them on various social and economic matters. He recalls to their minds that, though economics must deal with such matters as the laws of production and consumption, it must also be aware of those moral laws which must be considered if any economic situation is to be handled successfully. He warns them that the enemy of the human race is today represented among men by Communism and concludes by urging the workers not to fear scientific and technical progress, for there is no reasonable basis for assuming that such progress will eliminate the need for human workers. On October I0, 1956 (AAS, pp. 779-786), the Holy Father broadcast a message to the shrine of the house of Loretto where a group 6f Italian women had gone on pilgrimage. The Pontiff first recalls to his hearers the dignity of woman accord-ing to Catholic principles; she, like man, is a child of God, redeemed by Christ, and given a supernatural destiny; further-more, woman shares with w/an a common temporal destiny, so that no human activity is of itself forbidden to woman. Man 173 R, F. 'SMITH Review for Religious and woman, then, are equal as far as personal and fundamental values .are concerned, though their functions are different. The fundamenial function of woman is motherhood; for it is by this that woman ordinarily attains both her temporal and her eternal destiny; this, of course, in no way prevents the perfection of womanhood being achieved in other ways, especially by the voluntary acceptance of a higher vocation. Finally, the Holy Father acknowledges that woman should be a force in the modern world and one :of the aims of woman's activity should be to strive to see' that the nation's institutions, laws, and customs respect the special needs of women. Miscellaneous Topics An important document issued by the Hoiy Father in the concluding months of 1956 is the text of a speech given by him on September 14, 1956 (AAS, pp. 699-711), to a group of Italian priests interested in the adaptation of pastoral activity to the needs of contemporary life. The main body of the text is concerned with the need for preaching today modeled on the preaching 6f Christ and that of the Church. At the conclusion of the talk the Supreme Pontiff then formulates a general prin-ciple tl~at should control all those working to adapt themselves to modern situations: there can be no valid adaptation to modern conditions unless that adaptation be shaped by and oriented towards the teaching power of the Church. Individual theologi-ans must remember that the teaching o~ce of the Roman Pontiff and of fhe bishops is of divine right, while their own right to teach is delegated to them. by the Church. The Vicar of Christ notes in conclusion certain areas where modern adaptation has not been shaped by the teaching power of the Church. Among such areas are to be included the tendencies of. the "new theol-ogy" as explained in 1950 in the encyclical Humani Generis; situation ethics; the pretended superiority of Christian marriage and the conjugal act over virginity;, and. the independence of art from all norms other than artistic ones. On September 20, 1956 iAAS, pp. 790-793), the Holy 174 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Father addressed the Seventh Congress oi: the International Astronautical Society. After recalling the history of human effort during the last fifty years to achieve interplanetary travel and to invent artificial earth satellites, the Vicar of .Christ con-tinues by saying that interplanetary travel is a licit aim and pur-pose, for all creation has been given to man. On the other hand, he points out that the boldest explorations of space will but lead, to greater divisions among men, unless humanity be-comes more deeply impressed with the solidarity of that t!amily of God which is the human race. The last document to be noted is a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities~ dated June 21, 1956 (AAS, p. 846), by which Niagara University is canonically and perpetually erected. This concludes the documents which have appeared in AAS during 1956; the next article will summarize the documents of AAS for the first months of 1957. SUMMER INSTITUTES (Continued from Page 142) In its second annual series of Institutes for Religious Won~en Gonzaga University aims at "equipping nuns of all congregations with the insights that reflect God's point of view." This year's schedule is as follows: June 17-28, The Sacramental Life and the Mass; July 1-12, Understanding Human Nature--Part II; Personal Holiness II. Write to: Rev. Leo J. Robinson, s.J.~ Gonzaga University, Spokane 2, Wash-ington. From July 1 to August 9 The Catholic University of America will conduct a Marian Institute which has been established to provide sys-tematic training in the theoloy about the Blessed Virgin. Address cor-respondence to: Director of the Summer Session, The Catholic Uni-versity of America, Washington 17, D. C, OUR CONTRIBUTORS SISTER M. MATILDA is archivist at Loretto Motherhouse, Lo-retto, Nerinx P. O., KentuCky. THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN is professor of ascetical and mystica[ theology at Weston College, Weston, Massachusetts. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a mem-ber of the faculty of St.Mary's Cbllege, St. Marys, Kansas. !75 Communications [EDITORS' NOTE: Those who send communications will help us greatly if they type the communications double- or triple-spaced and allow generous margins. Occasionally we receive material for a particular issue or time of year~ Since our deadline for sending copy to the printer is two months before the publication date, such material should reach us three months before it is to appear. Communications, like articles and questions, should be addressed to our editorial office, not to the business office. The complete address is: The Editors, REW~W :FOR REL~O~0US, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. The address of the business office (where subscriptions, requests for back numbers, changes of address, etc., are to be sent) is given on the inside back cover.] Introductory Note As an editor, I should like to suggest that the communication on the religious habit may stimulate profitable discussion if our readers will ignore the suggestion that the sisters who answered Father Teufel's questionnaire (cf. our January number, p. 3) are disgruntled religious. Concentration on this point can lead only to bitterness. As a teacher, I should like to add that I once conducted a discussion (without a questionnaire) involving the same points brought out by FathEr Teufel. Sisters representing a large number of institutions took part in this discussion. Their conclusions were similar to those expressed in Father Teufel's article. I can vouch for the fact that these sisters were excellent religious, devoted to their institutes. I am sure that the same could itnd should be said about the sisters who replied to Father Teufel's questionnaire. As a priest, let me say that we men are not eager to tell women how to dress. Moreover, many of us think that the problem of garb is not limited to sisters' habits. Priests and religious men who live in hot climates (which--by the way--are not limited to mission co'n-tries) often discuss the possibility of having some substitute for the black suits and cassocks. The underlying reason of these discussions is not lack of mortification; it is rather the very important matter of cleanliness, as well as efficiency. Gerald Kelly, S.J. The Religious Habit Reverend Fathers: The article on the religious habit published in the January issue of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has attracted considerable attention 176 COMMUNICATIONS among the religious of my. community. I am wondering about the reaction of others. Those with whom I have spoken are within the average age group mentioned in the article--at least twenty-five years in religion. Their reaction (like my own) has been one of shock at the revelation of what looks like a deep resentmefit in the minds of certain religious against the inconveniences and occasional" embar-rassment or discomfort caused by the religious habitl May I offer a few comments? 1. The attitude of a religious toward her habit. From the day she receives it, the religious in any well-trained community is imbued with the idea of the sacredness of the "holy" habit. She. regards it as a privilege to wear a garment blessed by Holy Church. On the day of her "clothing" she is reminded that she has put off (at least in will and intention) the "old" self and has puton Christi Each morning thereafter as she puts on her habit she recites a prayer recall-ing the day when she was vested with the nuptial robe indicative of her union with Christ. 2. The care given to the habit is that given to somethi~ng sacred, as, for example, the vestments in the sacristy. It is put on and removed over the head (never stepped out of). It must be lifted on going down stairs or in crossing a muddy or dusty passage. It must be kept free of spots and never allowed to become ragged. 3. Some of the remarks on the time expended on the,care, of the habit seem to indicate that the religious who made these remarks have no idea of the time and care that a woman in the world must consume in keeping well groomed. 4. These religious.applied for the habit they wear. They accepted it along with the rules and customs and the spirit of their particular commu.nity. If today they are disgruntled at its form, might not this be an indication of a falling off in fervor and esteem for the institute whose uniform they once gladly adopted? In regard to the attractibn of vocations, young girls are drawn to particular institutes by their spirit or their work. They accept the habit without criticism and love it for what it represents. 5. It is true that many communities have been loyally putting up with certain inconveniences which custom imposed in the matter of clothing. The sisters of past generations accepted all this in.a spirit of penance. The present-day abhorrence of inconvenience is--alas! 177 COMMUNICATIONS Review for Religious --carried into the convent by many a postulant; but surely her attitude changes as she grasps the meaning of mortification and in the pursuit of "personal holiness" becomes more eager for penance. 6. The Holy See, in its kindly interest in the spiritual progress of dqdicate.d souls, has made aa effort to relieve the religious of incon-veniences arising from the manner of dress designed in far distant days. If each community attends to the rectification of thos~ features of the habit which come under these benign instructions, then indi-vidual religious will have no ground for interior rebellion, much less for outspoken criticism. Suggestions may always be made; surely-- but, should we add, objectively. The personal savor of many of the criticisms published indicated an absorption in self and a seeking of ease that seemed at variance with the striving after perfection which religious life implies. The remarks on the rosary were particularly offe_nsive. 7. It seems a pity that the attitude of seventy-two religious in one small corner of the earth should be taken as indicative of the reaction of thousands of sisters all over the world. Seculars picking up this article will be justly shocked; for they generallyo have the greatest esteem for the religious habit, no matter how antiquated or outlandish it may appear at first sight. 8. There is an old saying--"Cucullus non facit monachum.'" The habit certainly does not make the sister, but it does indicate that the person ~lothed in it is set apart from the world; that the restrictions it imposes are accepted as part of the price of her dedication; and that the uniform of her pai:ticular unit.in the army of the King is worn with an ""esprit de corps'" that cancels all inconveniences and be-stows .on the wearer a certain distinction. I shall be interested in learning the reaction of other religious ¯ communities to Father Teufel's article. Perhaps it was intended to b~ provocative. If the day of persecution should ever ~me (which G~d forbid!) when these same disgruntled nuns would be stripped of the holy habit (weighing ten pounds!) and forced to don a secular dress as light as 14 ounces, what a chorus of lamentation would rise to heaven! Surely in their zeal for reform these good sisters were led by a tempting quegtionnaire beyond the limits of discretion. In their heart 6f hearts they feel, I a.m sure, that they are privileged to wear any religious habit. Surely after twenty-eight years they have 178 May, 1957 COMMUNICATIONS at least in some degree died to the world in order to put on Christ, A Sister Vocal Prayers in English Reverend Fathers: May I make use of the communications department of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tO invite the opinions of other religious concerning a problem that has arisen in our community in regard to the conversion of many of our Latin prayers into English. I do not refer to the Divine Office or to the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, but to 'the vocal prayers said in common morning and evening, those before and after meditation, the particular examen, and recently, the grace at meals in English. When we recited these prayers in Latin we used a uniform pitch, recto tono, and the even free rhythm of syllabic chant. Now we are thinking of carrying this method over into the English versions of these prayers so as to keep perfect unison in pitch with a similar rhythm. This poses the problem of modifying the emphasis and weight of the English accent, and submerges the natural inflections of the voice ordinarily used in reading English prose. It seems to us it would be in keeping with the spirit of liturgical prayer to lift our voices above the mundane methods of ordinary speech to a higher form of vocal player similar to the Latin recto tono or liturgi-cal recitative even when it is cast in the vernacular. We should like to know what other communities are doing about this problem. Do they chant English vocal prayers recto tono? Do they strive for the even rhythm of syllabic chant? Are there any printed works on this subject? Since many communities are converting many of their community prayers into English, it seems to me the opinions and practices of other communities will be of interest, not only to our sisters~ but to many other readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Mother M. Cecilia, O.SIU. Ursuline Convent Paola, Kansas 179 t oo1 Reviews [Material for this department should be sent ~to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE SPLENDOUR OF THE CHURCH. By Henri de Lubac, S.J. Translated by Michael Mason. Pp. 289. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1956. $3.50 The original title of the book, Meditation sur l'Eglise, more humbly indicates the source of these reflections which magnificently reveal the splendor of the Church. We are grateful to the author for allowing us to look deeply into his soul on fire '~with an ever-growing affection" for the Church. The subject matter was supplied by informal talks and conferences given largely at days of recollection to priests with whom the author shares the treasures he has so sincerely pr!zed himself. This is consequently not a systematic treatise on the Church or the Mystical Body. Any one desiring an orderly dogmatic treatment had better not begin with this book. A gen-erous acquaintance with the scientific background of the theology of the Church is supposed, but on this new light and unsuspected bril-liancy- is cast by these conferences. What cannot but amaze the attentive reader is the erudition which has gone into the making of this brilliant book.' Tradition is literally pillaged to support the propositions presented, not so much for proof as for a luminous display of the light that has been shed through the ages on the dogma of the Church. The coverage of the literature on the subject, manifest in. numberless footnotes, is formidable, both in regard to the founts of tradition, as well as the pe¥iodical literature in many tongues. It was a pleasant surprise to find Social Order amongst the sources cited. The march of thought in the book may be here briefly outlined though it is not easy to summarize the wealth of material offered. The Church is first of all a mystery, our own myster~ par'excellence. In its dimensions the Church reaches back not merely to the apostles but tO th~ prophets, and Adam himself is to be reckoned with these; and forward to the end of."time. The one Church, however, has two aspects, active and passive, the power that assembles and the assembly thus constituted. The Church is at once our mother and ourselves; pastor and flock, Church teaching and Church taught, but always within unity. It is inspiring to note what further leads such familiar distinctions suggest to the prolific mind of the author. 180 BOOK REVIEWS A fourth chapter examines the. relation between the Church and the Eucharist, "the Heart of the Church." "If the Church is the fullness of Christ, Christ in His Eucharist is truly the heart of the Church" (p. 113). A further chapter faces the conflict that has been introdt~ced by the presence of the Church in the world, creating a rivalry between the two and constant "reciprocal embarrassment," which is really nothing more than the duality set up by the Gospel and postulated by man's dual nature as animal and spirit. The bril-liant subsequent chapter exhibits the Church as "the sacrament of Christ": "she is the great sacrament which contains and vitalizes all the others" (p. 147). There follows a warm exposition of the Church a~ our mother, "E~'Hesic~ ~1ater," which would make profitable read-ing for such as suspect a childish sentimentalism in the words "Mother Church." The author is candid enough to review the difficulties that present themselves to the man who finds his love and loyalty for the Church embarrassed by practical problems that invite criticism. Father De Lubac's solutions build up to a finer and more stable loyalty. The final chapter, "The Church and Our Lady," has appealed to this reviewer as the finest of all, being ~that of greatest length (,50 pages), and covering the treatise of Mariology from an unusual angle. The author begins by cleverly se. lecting,a Barthian denunciation of our position. "It is in Marian doctrine," declares Barth, "and the Marian cult that the heresy of the Roman Catholic Church is apparent --that heresy which enables us to understand all the: rest" (p. 239), Candidly accepting the challenge our author admits as a~.fundamental Catholic thesis that Mary and the Church must be understood togegher, and proceeds to illustrate the thesis by a. detailed review of the Church's liturgy through the centuries, above, all the liturgical, application, of theoCanticle of Canticles to both.Mary and the Church. In this conclu.ding tribute both our Lady and the Church are once again mutu.al!y illumined by a dazzling ~splendor. In its.exterior form and presentation the volume lives up to the high standards ofthe publishers. A'considerable number of errors have crept into the Latin of.the footnotes; .these sh~oulcl be cayefully chec.k~ed before a new. printing.--~AI.O~.s~u~ C. I~E.Xlp~.:R, S.~. . A PATH ~HROUGH GENESIS. By Bruce Vawter, C.M. Pp. 308. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1956. $4.00. Nbt many dec~ades ago, it' was ~xibmatic in bibiic~il ~ircles that 181 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious "Catholic works are not read." Fortunately, the recent Catholic rev~ival in the field of biblical scholarship has effectively challenged this intellectual boycott. If the axiom is still true nowadays, it is true in the sense that Catholics themselves are not yet acquainted with their own scholars' efforts to enrich their spiritual heritage. Usually, one dan plead lack of time and i~sufficient background for studying the Bible, especially the Old Testament. But Father Vawter has helped put the lie to that excuse. A Path Through Genesis is a concise, informative, and even inspiring introduction to private reading of the Old Testament in general, and of Genesisin particular. Its value as a general intro-duction consists chiefly in its interesting and pedagogically sound treatment of the book which is most likely to present problems to the average reader--the first he meets: Genesis. Wisely, the author has decided to write a guide for the reading of Genesis, rather than a book about Genesis. Selected portions of the ~text are printed in t:ull to save the reader the wearisome task of using two books at ,once. The commentary linking these substantially large passages is most readable, and Father Vawter uses to advantage his gift for delight-fully apt comparisons to help bridge the gap between Hebrew thought patterns and our own. Popular in style, the book is almost com-pletely free of the cumbersome apparatus of scholarship--footnotes, though it is by no means innocent of the results of serious research. In fact, it is rather surprising that the results of careful, painstaking study can be expressed with such disarming simplicity; but such is the reader's happy discovery. The author has thoughtfully included a number of maps, pictures, and diagrams which enable the book to "teach itself." This is not to say that' its reading is effortless, which "would be, after all, a doubtful compliment. With careful but not taxing attention, the book will open the eyes of the reader to the real meaning of Genesis. And it will either remove his groundless fears that "the difficulties of God's book will weaken our faith in Him," or bring the reader out of the "pious daze" that usually afflicts him when he reads the Bible without facing what it says, Father Va~cter's A Path Through Genesis is recommended not just to seminarians and teachers of college religion, but to any seri-ous- minded person who wants to appreciate God's word, especially in the New Testament. For it is hard to see how one can understand the New Testament, especially ~he letters of St. Paul, without being 182 May, 1957 .Book ANNOUNCEMENTS rather well-acquainted with the only sacred writings Paul knew and constantly used. In Father Vawter's ~vords: "I think tliere is no better way to discourage Bible reading than by the oft-repeated advice to 'read the New Testament first, then the Old.' This is one of those witless axioms supposedly based on experience, but in reality pure untested theory." Perhaps the book would be ot~ special interest to teachers of grade-school religion. Even if the matter contained in the book is not directly brought out in class, it should help form the teacher's mental background and help her avoid unnecessarily dogmatic statements about the creation of the world and the "historical facts" in the Bible. It is this reviewer's teaching experience that many well-intentioned but uninformed statements heard by students in the grades have found their reaction in a sophomoric rationalism that appears openly only several years later. In other cases, such remarks have not aided faith, which is, after all, a light, but rather have fos-tered that "pious daze" which befogs the knowledge of God and His striking providence. Any grade-school teacher knows what embar-rassingly straightforward questions can be asked by' those precocious little ones who could well be the Church's most valuable. ~apostles in future years. A wise teacher will need to face such ~i~:t~roblem-filled child not just with an answer, and a sound one at thai, but with her own informed assurance. Father Vawter's book serves this twofold need admirably.--CH~,RgEs H. GIBLI~, S.J. 8OOK AN NOUNCF:/~I=NT~; THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. The Shroud of Turin. By Werner Bulst, S.J. Translated by Stephen McKenna, C.SS.R., and James J. Galvin, C.SS.R, This is the most complete book in English on this controversial question. Though written by one man, it really represents th.e combined work of experts in many fields who allowed the author to use the results 6f "~heir in-vestigations and checked his final copy to make sure that ~th.ey were ~orrectly presented. The photographs are excellent and wogih the ~pric~ of the book. In addition to the information you acquire~in read- 'ing the book, you will find that you. have gained~.,a ,better and more vivid appreciation of what the Passion meant to Christ.° Hence, ~though it is a strictly scientific book, it may well ~erve as spiritual 183 ]~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review fo~" Religious reading. It will make Christ much more real for you. Pp. 167. $4.75. Reflections on the Passion. By Charles Hug9 Doyle. These are short essays, one for each day of Lent except Holy Saturday. They are what you .would expect to hear from a pastor before the p~lrish Mass each day of Lent. Pp. 93. $1.85. Our Saviour's Last Night and Day. By Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D. In these brief pages the author gives us a moving account of the Passion of our Lord. He harmonizes the history of the Passibn as given by the four evangelists. Pp. 80. Paper $1.00. The Rubricator. By Earl Dionne. The rubricator is a rotating di~k which indicates "the proper position of any officer of a solemn high Mass at any.part of the Mass. There are four such rubricators: one for the solemn high Mass, one for the solemn requiem high Mass, one for the pontifical solemn high Mass at the faldstool, and one for the pontifical solemn high Mass at the throne. Each sells for $1.00, the set for $3.50. THE DEVIN-ADAIR Company, 23 East 26th Street, New York, 10. A Brief Introduction to the Divine Office. By Joseph J. Ayd, s.J. Revised by James I. O'Connor, S.J. Seminarians and all who are trying to learn the Divifie Office will find this book very hel'pful. Pp 7. $0.3~. FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, 744 East 79th Street, Chi-cago 19, Illinois The Journal of aSouthi~rn Pastor. By J. B. Gremillion. Many a problem of pastoral theology is presented, and dis~cussed ifi these pages which you will not find in the standard texts on pastoral theology, for .they w~re not problems when the texts wei'e written. Pp. 305. $3.95. M. H. GILL AND SON, LTD., 50 Upper O'Connell Street, Dublin, Ireland. The Incurable Optimist and Other Spiritual Essays. By Robert Nash, S.J. Father Nasb has a talent for putting the truths of faith, particularly as they concern the trivialities and cafes of every day livi'ng, in an interesting and ,striking way. 'The essays first appeared in The Sunday Press, Dul~lifi. You may judge his popularity by the 184 May, 1957 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS fact that this is the third collection of his essays to be published. Pp. 112. 6s. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 S. Broadway, St. Louis 2, Missouri. Handbook of Ceremonies. By John Baptist Mueller, s.J. Revised and re-edited by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. This seventeenth edition of a very popular handbook has been completely revised and, to a great extent, re-written to bring it into conformity with the ne# rubrics for both Mass and office. Even the new ceremonies for Holy Week are included. The musical supplement is now printed in the Gregorian notation. You will like everything about this book with the possible dxception of its price. Pp. 482. $6.50. THE LITURGICAL PRESS, St. John's Abbey, Collegeville, Minnesota. Meditating the Gospels. By Emeric Lawrence, O.S.B. The two leading ideas of this new meditation book are: prayer is a convers

Issue 4.2 of the Review for Religious, 1945. ; ,~Befora wrlt[~9 to ~s~° pl:~'se'co~sult noilce ~a Inside. back ~ove,. VOLUME IV / MARCH"i'5. 1945 ¯ ,, + " " l~ItJMbl~l~,2 , CONTENTS, +, ., , SECOND YEAR OF NOVI:FIA'~E" Adam~C: Ellis, +g.J -. .-. 73,, BOiDKLETS . ? . ° . . .,\. HOLY COMMUNIO~ AND SPIRITUAL .~ROGRES~-- " ~- , Clarence McAuliffe; S.2 . ~. . . .- ,-'OUR CO~qT~IBUTORS + ' ' ' " ILL-HEALTH AND THE APOSTOLIC VOCATION~A Missionary" ~THREE PREVENTI'#ES OF, "EXHAUSTION"~ ' ' BOO~S,~i~CEIVED . . ~. ,, .' ' " ' ' . . ,10, THE FAST BEFORE COMMUNION--Gerald Kelly,~ S.J. .~. . .j :l o# L~+'DECISIONS OF ,THE HOLY SEE o. . 122 BOOKREVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMnth, S.J.)-- '-+- TJ~e Man NeareSt to ChriSt: ~A Herolne~of the Mission Field:,~niroductio . : ~ in Codicerfi: A Prefad'e to Ne,wman's Theology; War'is My Parish; Secrets , . ' ." 124~"~ of ghe Saints: Our Lad, y of Fauma '. , ,.~,, . COMMUNICATIONS ;' . . ' ; . -+. ; . .'+I~0 QUESTIONS AND' ANSWERS-- " '" Absences froXm the Novitiate: ,General+Pei'missions to Spend Small Sfims:' . +Soliciting Votes at General Chapter: Meaning 6f the Perio,dic "General r +Abso ut on":~ Use'+of Old Albs ahd ~eligious Habits: Plenary 'Indu"lge~ce . ~n articulo morris and thd_He~oic Acf; Plenary Indulgence~for.~Communion of Reparation: Nbvitia~e.+at Ordinary House and NoviCes at Community Recreation: Power to Ex't~ndoTime °of Novitiate;'Per'mission for Reli-gious to Donate Blood: Renewal,of Altar Breads: Banner b~fore Blessed, ~5" S,acrament, during Office: Oinission of Sign 'of Cross during the PassiOn; Right"to Admit Can, didate.s . " . ¯ " . ' " " i~ . ~ 136 SUMMER S~HOOL 'DIRECTORY O" --" " " " ~,~'-- ' '~; " " "" EX'PLANA:FI.ON OF THE MASS . " 14'4 ~'MARYKNOLL MISSION LETTERS . ' .- A 144 REVIEW FOR°REI~IGIOUS, Mar~h. 1945". Vol.°IV, No. 2. Publis~'ed +.+~n°ntb] y ; .~January'o March,. , May, July,. Sel~tember;and November, at"~he College.,,, +press,, '606 H;~rnson Street, T, opeka, Kansas,. by St. Mary s College, St. Marys, Kansas; with ecclesmsttcal, approba~t ¯i o- n , E n t ,e- r e d a s s e c o n d c ,lass matter ,January 15 1942o+ at thePost Of~ce~ Topeka,~Kansasi under'the act of March 3, 1879. ¯ '- ~ 'Editofialfl3oard: Adam C. Ellis, S~. G. Augustine Ellard. S.3. Gel:~ld¢K~ll~,, S.3. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. SchnetderJ S.J. . C6pyright. 1'945. by Adam C. ,Elli,s. Permission' is hereby granted fo~ quotati~nS '~of reasonable~ length, provided due~ credit be giyen this rewew and .tile ,au'thdr. Subscriptioii pric~: 2 dollars a year. ,~, ' Prifited in'U.- Second- Year of Novi :iat:e Adam C. Ellis, S.J: ,7T H| "EE mFRpEirNe,C aHnd R oet~hoelru p'toil0inti,c 3aol sthepehoir~iems iinni mthiec Aalu tsot rtihaen Church had all but ~estroyed the .religious life in: ~ Europe by the end of the eightdenth century. V.ery many,, monasteries and convents had either been Suppresse'd or were, f6rbidd~n to take novices. As a restilt ¯many" b~n~fi~ent labors~of the religious, in behalf Of the social needs 6f the:J "Church ~ere brought to a standstill. BU~ it was imperative that these spiritual and corporal.~works of mercy should hot'be abandoned altogether. Divine Providence inspired dd~'oted laymen and women to step into the-breach~ ~ to.take.up the task of teaching Christia_n Do~.r.rine ~to chil- ~dren, and of caril~g for the sick, .th~ aged, and the orphans. - Eventual.ly th~se zealousla~borers ,bhnded tbgether into .~,~smallgrout~s in order to work together more efficiently.; then-they began to live toge'ther in community,'and with ¯ the-permission of their local Ordinary they took simple, private vows and wore a common garb. Recognized offi-cially neither by Church nor State, the.y carried on their work valiantly. Eventually the Church rewarded thei~o °o zealous efforts. At first approval was given only 'to" their "constitutionsi but, especially during the second half~ of the nir;eteenth century,,, the Holy See .appro.ved the institutes .themselves as congregations with simple vows. Many of the founders of these modern congregations o realize'd that men.~and women whose vocation it was to-strive for perfection, in the active life needed a longer period " of' ptobation than the single year of novitiate commgnly ~-,,prescribed for cloistered religious. Hence these founders.~ ordained that all c.andidates undergo a second year of novi-. , 73~ ADAM C. ELLIS -.tiate~before the "firs~ Reoieto for R~ligiou.s profession+ of vows.° Furthermore, - some provided in their constitutions that the noviCesshould b~ employed in the external works of the congregatiffn during their second year. "This was done to determine whether they were fitted for this kind of work, and to give them opportunity to adjust their spiritua! life to the dis-tractions and trials+of the actiye apostolate. The Sacred Congregation of Religious consistently-refused to permit novices to be so employed during,the first year of nov.itiate.~ This practice of the S. Congregatt0n passed into the legislation of the NOrrnae of /901. 'After . stating in Art. 73 tfiat novices were n~t to be engaged in the ¯ study of the arts and sciences nor in theeexternal work of the institute, Art. 7"4 continued as follows: "Where there are tyro years of novitiate,the first is to follow all the i~r~- scriptio, ns laid down above for the one (canonical) year. During the second year, howe('er, the novices may engage moderately in studies or in other works of the institute ¯ always under the direction and vigilance of the master; this is to be done in the novitiate house itself, but" not outside of it, unless-grave, reasons advi~e otherwise." - The Code of-Canon Law was promulgated on.Pente-- cost.Sunday, May 27, 1917,, and.began t6 bind on Pen-tecost Sunday,. May 19, 1918. ~ Since the l~gi_slation of the Code sut~'erseded .the old Noi'rnae, upon which most of the cons~titutions of modern congregations were based, it became necessary for all religious institutes ~o revise their constitutions .in order (o bring ~hem into con-" ?;forniity with the Code. Superiors, therefore, were inter-i~ sti~d to find out what theCode had to say in regard t6 the second year of novitiate. They fo'ufid very little. 'Canon 5.55,"§ 2 allo~ed a second year df nowt~ate tf the+constitu-tions prescribed it,- but stated that this second year was not required for the validity of the subseqUent profi~ssi6n of 74 - w.hich were eventually-.sent tothe :Congregation of Reli-,. giou~ fora solution.Since canon 565, § 3-forbade n6vices _to engage in studies or in the. external' Works'of the institut~ "::during the year of novitia'te," did the s~im~ prohibition apply also'to the second year? Again, some congregatidns that employed, novices in external work, as was permitted' .![ b}'~ their, constitutions, preferre,d t6 do this during "the firs.t "~°~' year (as a means-dr trying out th,e:no~rices), and then~ to- ~ devote the Second ~ear exclusively to their spiritual f0rma/ ~ ., tion. Was this permitted under the new Cod~? -Such ";questi0ns,land others similar to-them, ~ind the fact that ~, various .provisions .concerning this rhatter.were found in many constitutions which had been revised according to the Code and submifted to the Itoly See for approval ~ill induced }he Congregation of Rdigious to make a careful 0 study of the subjgct. This study resulted in the "Instruc- [ion on the Second Year of Novitiate'" in .which all~ such 0_. questio~s~ gre. ~nswered and the fundamental :prinCiples-- which governed the pr.acticeof the Church during the.past ninety years are brought to the attention of all superiors of ~instit'utes having, two years of novitiate, . " There are fdur cardinfil points.in the instruction,~ ¯ Let us~consider each one in turn, I,. SpiritaalTormation of the Nboice is thO Principal ~ Purpose of the Second" Year. " -, "It is qui'te right that a i~ovitiate of more than one yearo~ be prescribed in. some institutes, especiz[lly, among those. '~Whose members ~are emp~loyed in external works, since they, distracted by various cares and more exposed ~o the dangers ~For thcr. tegt of "this Instruction see pp. 122-1.23 of this- issue. ~ Mar~b, 1945 " SECOND YEXR OF NOQI'rlAT[~ - ~ 'thereby serve You-in serving them for the mission. I was "~ " d~sconsolate at the thought that I'had"lost my work in the. mission and~had been given none in the province: ai~d al~l, the~while Your loving mercy was gig, ing me a-~hr~e~f01~t work, TO. YOU, IN MY FELLOW RELIGIOUS,. FOR° .~ December 1,Sth. It ~toesn't matter what I do if-I~-do .~ ~. God's will, if I: obey,-if [ love. God w~nts not my:~vork, ~ but. my love. ~o - . December 20.th. There is NO VACATION for ~a.'., " religic~us. Is no work ass{gned'or°allowed? Then must ,~' ¯ ~l.eisure be used to work the ~arder at becoming a saint, oat ~ ~. .- loving God more, at intercedifig and atoning more for souls~ ~ December 29th. -A ciborium full of hosts was conse- -, ~ated at Mass and then ,pushed ,back to the co~ner 6f the :~. /. corporal so 'that.it would not interfere with the l~Ias~s beingsaid. I waiat to be like that ciborium. Even though ; :'~ I am not a~llowed to return to the mission or am not givdn- " " ~" "~ ' work elsewhere, I wa~t to~do God's holy .will quietly and. entirely a'nd unostentatiously like that.citmfium-~-not hin~- derin~g .the great work of lorethat others'are carrying.on, ~- - and yet keeping Jesus all the while in my heait, read,r to ~.7" impart Him~without losing Him~to the souls, whoeve~ and wherever they be,to which "the servants of our Lord, .my'superi°rs, may. take me. . . \ Three Preventives" "' ot: "l xhausfioh" -. G. Augustine Ellard, S:J. ~, ~ ECENTLY it was announced that l~sychiat/isti i~n th~ United. States-ArmY have discovered threeLfactors, which tend to prevent "exhaustion" or "combat: :fatigue,".,that is,~a~bndition of certain soldiers who with~" Out being wounde~lbr, diseased.bave become more: or lels, iinfit to continue fi~hting, They may have fought long and ourageously: :but now, though apparently physicall_y well, they feel incapable of doing more; they are "exhaustedT'. too grdatly_ fat.igued to go on. The three preventives are: ~-edprit de corps, gooffleadership, and~reasons for fighting2 ,, ~Ivappears not unlikely that among- religious there may sometimes be an amilogous condition of "exhaustion," "and that it may be avoided by. the same three means. The first pre~;entive is esprit de corp.s. Amon~ Ameri-can~ service units its character and efficacy, are best illustrated _~.perhaps by the Marines. A Marine ~is taught f~om the beginning to feel that he is in thd greatest fighting group in all the world. ~Hence the~re is every reason why he should have the ti'tmost confidence in all his t~eilow Marines,' and why. he in turn must measure up to their exp,ectations. The ~Mdrines' records ar~ most glorious:, they must not be allowed to be'stained with ~nything that would dim their ~ luster.0 Everybody, atleast everybody in the American ~world, expectsofily what is most excellent~and heroic"from the Marines: he mu~f not disappoint.them. The'importance ~ of esprit.de co.rps is recognized by the Aimy and Nawy to be _so gregt that they are careful to f~reserve the distinctive "ide~nti~y and"historical ;ontinuit.y, with all their ~raditions ~> " - '- G,~ "AuG~-STINE EELAR~ ~ ¯ ; " Reoied) fo~ Relioious," aitd glories, of each s~parat'e u.n.i~ or division.--.The "~ight- -ingoSixty-hinth'' would be another ~xample of a. gtou_p in the American/~rmy that is.noted for its esprit de dorps. - ,.Religious orders and cbngregations also have their own esprif db corps., ' Sometimes it leads 'them intb faults,, for example, corporate pride or envy. But that is n6reason why it should not be cultivated f0r the good th~it is in it." A teligious:naturally and rightly tikes a cett~iin pride "in belonging to his 6rder-=-otherwise why did he-join it?-- an-d if h~ shoul~l 'feel~ deeply' and tritimatelywith regard to it: What is. meant by .noblesse oblige; that ~sense could be powerful aidto, livin_g up.t.o tile ideals andtoattaining t,ile ::purpose~ of the o~der'. 'The.laistok~r.'andtraditions of the institiate can be'a perennial f6untainhead of .inspiration arid courage: Its professed aims are a standing.challenge a~nd stirhulation to renewed or greater,.exertion. The examples of the founder arid of distinguished member~ are a~ constant _ invit~tioh to.emulate them, and'a clear prbof of what mem-bers o{ the organization, can achieve-.:' One feels that it" Would be a sil~me not to give a good account oYoneself in Suchcompany or t9 disappoint their hopes. The laurels

Issue 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year: $20.00 for two years¯ Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail)¯ Airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual

The subject of this study – The Youth in Croatia and the European Integration – is the relationship of youth toward the European integration process, including the Croatian accession to the European Union, as well as their sociopolitical readiness for integration into a united Europe. The analysis is based on a section of data gathered in early 2004, on the entire Croatian territory, and conducted within the scientific and research project Youth and the European Integration Process. The basic sample of youth, aged 15 to 29, consisted of 2000 examinees, and the control sample of persons older than 30 consisted of 1000 examinees. The obtained findings on youth have been systematically compared to results from the previous research project, The Value System of Youth and Social Changes in Croatia, conducted in early 1999, on an identically structured sample of 1700 young examinees. Data on Croatian youth has also been compared to the corresponding findings of several European researches. European integration is a dynamic and multidimensional process, and in this research, the accent was on the political and normative dimensions of integration. The genesis of the political development of European Union has indicated that, in spite of the oscillations in the process of integration, there is a recognizable progress toward the construction of a Europe of values, where all the included countries meet with equally high democratic demands. The existing research into the European integration process has undoubtedly shown that the relationship of citizens toward the EU varies as a function of time, and depends on the specific situation in certain countries or societies. Croatia is a transitional country that has stepped into the process of democratic consolidation, and after the year 2000, it had also stepped out of a certain kind of international isolation. Today, Croatia is a country trying to join the united Europe, which has managed to obtain the status of a candidate country for accession into the EU, albeit with an uncertain date for accession negotiations. Even though the main obstacle for the start of negotiations is supposedly the lack of satisfaction of the EU with the Croatian cooperation with the Hague Tribunal, the existing tendencies and events in the country indicate that Croatia is not adequately prepared to join the Union: not at the political, nor the social, and especially not at the economic plain. The indicated findings are also the starting points in the research of the relationship of Croatian youth toward the European integration process. A valid analysis of this relationship demands a previous insight into some aspects of the political readiness of youth for European integration of Croatia. With that in mind, special attention was dedicated to political values, attitudes and participation of youth, whose longitudinal monitoring enables a detection of changes that took place during the past five years. The data comparison showed that during the observed period of time, the young people' s otherwise relatively high acceptance of almost all the constitutional values, as well as the harmonious perception of politics and institutional trust have increased, while the lack of hard work, discipline and responsibility are now perceived as a social problem to a greater extent than before. The recent data also indicates that today' s youth perceive the existence of educational, gender and age inequalities in the Croatian society to a larger degree, as well as the worsening of political representation of all marginal groups. On the other hand, the understanding of conflicts and democratic rules (especially the role of the opposition) has weakened, the perception of crime in ownership conversion and privatization as a problem has decreased, there is also a weaker perception of the existence of social and religious inequalities, the social activism and political participation have decreased, and the attitude about inclusion into youth organizations of political parties and the establishment of independent youth parties as forms of activities that might contribute to a more active participation of youth in the society has decreased. From hence comes the conclusion that certain changes tend to lead to further social, most of all political, (self)passivization and marginalization of young people. The continuity of tendencies established in the previous research projects, confirm the finding that the young are not a monolithic group when it comes to acceptance of political values, expression of political attitudes and the level of political participation. The greatest differentiation is present regarding the not so present tolerance toward most observed social phenomena and groups, the perception of unemployment as the most important social problem and the cause of existing difficulties, the perception of existence of political inequalities and the stated interest in politics, as well as the perception of the role of the " diaspora" in the Croatian political life. When these results are observed integrally, it is obvious that the young are mostly differentiated by the level of obtained knowledge and their socio-professional status, then party identification, social origin and the phase of maturity. All the mentioned differentiations of youth can simply be summarized by outlining two large, relatively polarized groups: one consists of socially more competent youth, inclined to the ideological and political options of the left center, and the other consists of a socially inferior youth, inclined toward the right pole of the ideological-political spectrum. The socially more competent youth is more liberal, more critical toward the social reality and the political actors, they manifest a greater respect for democratic institutions and procedures, which is an indicator of the importance of favorable circumstances in the process of political socialization. The recent data enabled us to establish the existence of inter-generational differences, which are not enormous but are significant. The comparative analysis of the attitudes of both the young and the older examinees, demonstrated that the young state a higher degree of trust in the media than the older examinees, that they are more tolerant toward a number of social phenomena and groups, which cause dispute both in the Croatian and the European public opinion arena, as well as more sensitive regarding ethnic inequalities. The young perceive war as the main cause of current difficulties to a greater extent than the elders, they have considerably more trust in their own generation as a social force that could initiate positive trends, they express a greater readiness for inclusion in different civil society activities, and believe more that television and youth organizations could mobilize them into active participation in social affairs. At the same time, the young are slower than the older examinees to accept the value of a democratic order, however, they are also less prone to have a harmonious understanding of politics, they are less socially sensitive, they express less trust in the institutions of power, the socioeconomic goals and the preservation of tradition are less often among their political priorities, they less often think immorality and criminal activities in the privatization process are the cause of current problems, they perceive a smaller level of corruption in all areas of social life (aside from education), they believe less in the positive contribution of experts and entrepreneurs to overcoming the trends of crisis, they are less interested in politics and participate less in political parties, and they have a smaller level of faith in the mobilization role of education for democracy, volunteer work, political parties and non-governmental organizations, as well as the contribution of the family and education system in the stimulation of the young people' s social engagement. The established inter-generational differentiation can be explained through the life cycle theory, meaning the mentioned differences are mostly the effect of differing social statuses and the complete experiences of the young and the older examinees. That means that most young people have not assumed some of the permanent social roles, and that their immediate experiences are limited only to some social areas among which politics do not have a prominent place. The existing inter-generational differences are also the result of the fact that most older examinees draw on their experience gained in a different social and political regime, which to a certain measure forms their existing system of political values that is, in certain elements, especially those related to the social dimension, different than the youth' s system of political values. On the other hand, the congruence of the young and older examinees is contributed to by a common experience of an era, that is, life in a specific socio-historic period. The absence of deep inter-generational ambiguities also indicates that, in spite of the radical changes that have appeared through the decomposition of the old and the set-up of a new social and political order, the mechanism for transposing political values from the older generations to the young ones, functions to a considerable degree, along with the transfer of the shortcomings that exist in the structured political awareness of the older generation. Even though it was established that the youth in Croatia accept the traditional values to a smaller degree compared to the elders, the young are at the same time somewhat more conservative in certain areas than their European counterparts. Pointing to this finding is the greater orientation of the Croatian youth toward the family and a smaller extent of tolerance of certain phenomena and groups in the contemporary society. At that, the social participation of the Croatian young generation is at a lower level than the participation of their European peers. The attitude toward human rights is also one of the indicators of political preparedness of Croatian youth for integration into a democratic Europe, which promotes high standards in the protection of human rights and freedoms. The research results about the evaluation of individual human rights and freedoms, show that the youth accept the right to an education, the right to work and personal security, the right to privacy, the social protection of the elderly and those in other precarious situations, the equality before the law, the rights of women and the right to ownership the most. The analysis has shown that the preference of individual human rights and freedoms is not caused by the observed socio-demographic and socio-structural characteristics of the young, aside from education, which points to the significance of the education system as an agent of improvement of the state of human rights. Approximately a third of the young examinees were not satisfied with the respect for human rights in Croatia today nor were they satisfied five years ago, the percentage of the undecided has decreased in that period of time, and the number of those that think human rights in Croatia are mostly or completely respected has increased. The results of the analysis of social attributes of youth indicate that the ability of assessment and a higher degree of criticism toward the status of human rights in Croatia is related to life in economically more prosperous regions, a left ideological-political orientation as well as the female gender. The comparison of the evaluation of the contribution of institutions, organizations and significant individuals in the population of youth in 1999 and in 2004, established that the generation of youth today perceives a higher level of contribution of all observed participants (except for the opposition) to the protection of human rights and freedoms in Croatia. More precisely, most of the young assess that all the participants, completely or mostly, contribute to the realization of human rights in Croatia, which especially refers to the perception of the contribution of the highest institutions of power. The perception of the status of human rights in Croatia and the contribution of the observed actors to the realization of those rights, are considerably highly influenced by regional affiliation and party identification, followed by their social background, their gender and the religious self-identification of the young. The comparison of acceptance of the observed human rights and freedoms of the populations of young and older examinees in Croatia, indicates that the elders accept most individual human rights and freedoms more than the young, and that they also express less criticism toward today' s respect for those rights and freedoms in Croatia, while validating the contribution of all the observed actors to a higher degree. To summarize, the analysis has shown that the young accept human rights and freedoms very highly at the level of principle, but that there is a certain disagreement when it comes to concrete rights and practices in Croatia. Even though the degree of acceptance of the value of human rights and freedoms is high among the young, there are also deviations indicating an increased need for additional engagement of certain agents of socialization, especially the education system and the political actors. The national affiliation of youth is another indicator relevant to its relationship toward the European integration. The research has shown that the attitude most represented with the youth is one of moderate national identification, then the ones signifying an openness toward the world, while ethno-centric statements are at the back of the obtained hierarchy. The attitude that had demonstrated the highest representation of national identification is for the first time at the top of the rank in all our research projects, just as it is evident that nationally tinted attitudes, both moderate and extreme, are more represented now than in 1986 or in 1999. Such an increase of the national affiliation of the young can be interpreted by the fact that there is more emphasis on existential problems and that there is a higher uncertainty regarding the future, then the increase of differences between the rich and the poor, as well as a smaller degree of trust in the political leadership. The immediate confrontation with this type of social instability, results in a search for safer modes of relationships with other people, the society as a whole and some of its parts, where the nation represents one of the safe havens, much like family and church. However, it is necessary to emphasize that the attitudes of openness toward the world are quite stabile, and that they are often complementary instead of being opposite to attitudes of national identification. At the same time, this points to the complexity of the problem of national affiliation and the fact that it does not have to be exclusive, but can actually coexist with attitudes that enhance the process of European association. Regarding their national affiliation the young are, of course, not homogenous. The results of the analysis have shown that the nationally oriented youth is significantly more religious than the others, they prefer the conservative parties, live in Dalmatia, Central and Eastern Croatia, they originate more often from rural areas and families, where the father has a lower degree of education, they personally have a lower level of education and, within the youth sample, they belong to the youngest age cohort (age 15 to 19), and the groups of pupils and the unemployed. On the other hand, a significantly lower national affiliation is expressed by youth coming from the Istrian, Zagreb and Northern Croatia provenience, those indecisive about religion or atheists, youth of urban background and a higher family and personal education status. However, regarding cosmopolitism, the young demonstrate significantly more homogenous results. It is especially indicative that the more ethno-centric examinees and, to a smaller degree, those with a pronounced national identification, more often have a negative perception of the European Union, while the nationally more exclusive examinees refuse to even support the accession of Croatia into the European Union. The examination of the social (ethnic) distance toward certain nations has demonstrated that the young have put members of the former Yugoslav federation and Russians at the back of the scale, while, with an under-average evaluation, the center of the scale is occupied by members of certain Central and Eastern European nations (the Czech and the Hungarian). Inhabitants of the European Western and Southwestern territories, especially the Italians, which occupy the first position after form the Croats, and the Germans, demonstrate satisfactory results just by being evaluated by average grades. However, the degree of social closeness that the young citizens of Croatia feel toward other Croatian men and women, indicates a certain dose of self-criticism, because approximately one third of the young do not feel an especially high level of affinity toward, for the most part, their own nationals. The older examinees differ from the young in that they more pronouncedly represent attitudes at the center of the national affiliation scale, as well as indicate a higher ethnical distance on average. However, the fact is that, in spite of the existence of inter-generational differences when it comes to national affiliation where the older examinees dominate, there are also inter-generational differences that indicate a better position of the youngest examinees in our sample (aged 15 to 19). This phenomenon has already been described in literature by the so-called U-curve, which vividly illustrates a higher national affiliation of individuals at their earlier and later periods of life. Thus, the greater national affiliation, on the one hand, seems to appear as an expression of an adolescent transitional crisis, and on the other, as a consequence of a long-term perseverance of the perception and production of (most probably) negative experiences with a specific out-group. The relationship of the examinees toward the European integration and the European Union has been investigated via numerous indicators, where the emphasis was on the perception of the possible consequences of Croatian accession to the EU. However, other aspects of the relationship toward Europe and the EU have been the object of research, presenting a wider context for understanding the perception of consequences of joining the Union. The obtained results demonstrated that most of the young and of the older examinees in Croatia actually had a neutral image of the EU, even though those with a positive image exceed those that perceive the EU negatively. Actually, nine tenths of the examinees have in the beginning of 2004, supported the Croatian integration into the Union, but among those examinees, there is a highest number of euro-skeptics, that is, those that believe that too much is expected from the accession. At the same time, there were considerably less euro-enthusiasts (those that expect all-around benefits from the integration) and euro-realists (who believe that integration is inevitable for the survival of small countries). As for the difficulties standing in the way of the Croatian road to a united Europe, the examinees had equally addressed them to both Croatia and the European Union, however, the number of young emphasizing the accountability of the EU has increased from 1999 to 2004, and the number of those accenting Croatia' s responsibility has, in the same period of time, decreased. The finding that the young expect significantly more positive than negative consequences after the Croatian accession into the European Union, is especially important. However, in this regard, there has been a mild decrease in the expectation of the positive, and an increase of the negative consequences among the young during the last five years. The highest positive expectations have been registered at the individual and the socio-cultural planes, while the optimism regarding the socio-economic progress has decreased. Indeed, the lack of socio-economic preparedness of Croatia for the entrance into the developed European surrounding is expected to yield the most negative consequences. The research of the expected development of the EU in the coming ten years, has shown that only the possibility of easier travel, work, study and life in Europe is expected by most of the examinees, especially the young ones. The young are quite fearful of the costs Croatia might have from the integration and of the worsening position of the agricultural population. The negative conesquences expecting their own country are, however, less perceived by the youth in Croatia, than by their counterparts in Europe. Related to the fears from the construction of a united Europe and European Union, we have established that the youth in Croatia is most afraid of the abolition of the Croatian currency and the increase of crime, and its smallest fear has to do with the potential loss of social privileges. The fears of examinees in the enlarged Europe are somewhat different – the most expressed fear is that of labor transfer into other countries, the increase of crime and drug trade, the difficulties expecting the farmers and the price their country has to pay due to the development of the EU. Both the young and the old examinees in Croatia are less worried about the loss of national identity, language and their social privileges than the European examinees. All our examinees emphasize the multiple benefits of the EU enlargement, followed by the positive effects of that enlargement for Croatia, while the efforts of the Croatian government, regarding the accession to the Union, are valued quite poorly. The potential accession of Croatia into the European Union shall also signify a change in the decision-making process, meaning that some of those decisions will be reached at the national level, and some jointly with the EU. Our examinees have, in this regard, demonstrated a high level of readiness for integration, because more than half of them believes that four fifths of the observed areas should be the object of joint decision-making by the EU and Croatia. The only areas in which, in the opinion of the young examinees, Croatia should decide autonomously are the acceptance of refugees, the judiciary, culture, agriculture, fisheries and the police. The Europeans differ in their opinions on these issues from the Croats, and believe two thirds of the observed affairs should be decided on jointly by their country and the EU, while their country should be autonomous in deciding about education, basic rules about the media, health and social care and unemployment. Different social groups have, based on the perception of youth, been grouped into potential losers of the integration (farmers, the retired, workers, the unemployed), potential winners of the integration process (such as the inhabitants of the capital and certain regions, the young, as well as the Croatian population as a whole), and certain winners of the process of integration, which are also the best prepared for Croatian accession into the EU (experts, foreign language speakers, the political elite, managers, large companies). Actually, it was shown that the young consider the social groups which are in a relatively better position in the Croatian society today to be the greatest winners of EU integration, and those whose current status is unenviable, who are in the greatest need of a better future, were perceived as those that will potentially gain the least. The only encouraging fact is that the young are seeing themselves as the potential winners, meaning they believe the existing abilities and potentials of the young generation only need optimal circumstances in order to reach their peak. However, the data about the knowledge of foreign languages in Croatia are not very exhilarating, especially compared to the knowledge of foreign languages of the youth in the European Union countries. Within this research, we have also found that approximately three quarters of our examinees are proud of being Croatian citizens, while around half of the young, and somewhat less of the elders are proud to be European. The young are the ones to be more critical toward their national identity, and at the same time they lead in the positive validation of their European identity. However, the most interesting finding concerns the fact that all the Croatian examinees feel less national pride than the inhabitants of the European Union, while it is understandable that the examinees in the EU emphasize their pride of being European more. The answers of the examinees regarding the question about the contents of the concept " being a citizen of the European Union" indicate that neither the young, nor the older examinees posses a coherent understanding of the EU citizenship. Still, the right to work, live and study in any EU member, represents the key element for the understanding of EU citizenship, both with the young people in Croatia and with the youth in the Union. The young and the older Croatian examinees believe that active suffrage is the least important, regardless of whether the elections in question include the European Parliament, the national or the local representative bodies. Only one out of four Croatian examinees believes the Croatian membership in the EU might benefit them personally, while almost half of all the young and a third of the older examinees do not posses a defined opinion on this issue. It is clear that this feeling is closely related to the question of the personal meaning the European Union holds for the examinees, where neither the young nor the elders have a homogenous perception of the meaning of the EU. A single response appeared in an above-average number of cases – the EU is a way of creating a better future for the young – while the claim that the EU signifies a sort of " European government" , superimposed to the national states which are members of the Union, received a small level of support. Unlike that, the young from the Union countries emphasize the freedom of movement most often, while in time, the very concept of " European government" became more pronounced in the attitudes of the European youth. The young people in Croatia, as well as in the EU, express an equally small level of fear of the euro-bureaucracy, the loss of cultural diversity and the utopian idea of Europe. Considering the readiness of the young to live outside of Croatian borders, we have found that almost two fifths of them would like to live (and work and study) abroad for a while, while a quarter of the Croatian youth would like to leave the country forever. The older examinees, on the other hand, demonstrate a higher level of conservativeness toward the possible departure of their children into one of the countries of the Union, but they are, however, ready to accept their possible studying and training in the EU, while only one out of seven examinees would like his/her children to permanently live or spend their entire working life in one of the countries, which are members of the European Union. The analysis of the differentiation of the young in their relationship toward the European integration and the EU, has indicated that the used social characteristics have a limited influence. In other words, the young are relatively homogenous in their perception of a united Europe and the expectations from the Croatian accession to the European Union. However, certain differences do exist, and they are mostly caused by party identification, socio-professional status, regional affiliation and religious self-identification. This means that the most influential attributes, when it comes to attitudes toward the European integration process, are the ones consisting of ideological-political attitudes and the current social status along with the specifics of the wider environment. Thus, we have found that the sympathizers of parties that belong to the left center, then pupils and students, the inhabitants of the more developed regions and the non-religious examinees are more inclined toward the EU and the integration process, and at that, they emphasize the positive consequences and the potential gains from the Croatian accession into the Union, more than they express their concerns with the negative consequences. Hence, the concise conclusion would be that the greater social competence of the young is reflected in the establishment of a stable and more consistent pro-European orientation. Otherwise, the young differ from their older counterparts in their higher expectance of positive effects from the Croatian integration into the EU and, at the same time, in the lower perception of expected problems and undesirable consequences. Considering information sources and the level of information of the young in Croatia, the results show that the young follow the news in all the media outlets relatively often, but that they do lag behind the older examinees, and the examinees coming from the former EU candidate countries. This finding does not apply only to the use of the Internet as a source of information, where the young people are far superior to the older examinees. With that in mind, it is interesting that the young differ the most among each other, in the use of Internet and the reading of daily newspapers, where the socially more qualified young examinees (the more educated, coming from an urban environment and richer regions and averagely older ones) are the ones that use both media for obtaining information more often. As for the contents the examinees look for in the media, it is visible that the young are much more interested in events from the social and cultural life, and much less in issues related to politics. A comparison with the examinees from 13 countries that were EU candidates, demonstrated that they are far more interested in all the contents (aside from sports) than the Croatian examinees. Regarding the assessment of their own level of information about the EU, somewhat more than half of the young have stated that they are well informed about the European Union and events in it, compared to two thirds of the older examinees believing they are well informed. On the other hand, the results of both the young and the older examinees are surprisingly high, compared to the data on the level of information of the inhabitants in the 25 countries of the European Union, where three quarters of the examinees thought they were poorly informed about the issue. Closely related to the question of the level of information about the European Union itself, is the question about the general level of information about the Croatian accession to that association. The results demonstrate a somewhat different trend than the previous finding. In this case, less than half of the young consider themselves to be well informed about the process. It is interesting that the identically gathered data on this issue, from the former EU candidate countries, yielded a much lower evaluation by the examinees on their own level of information. Regarding issues and problems related to the EU that the examinees would like more information on, we have established that both the youth in Croatia and the examinees from the former EU candidate countries, find issues related to the Union' s policy on youth and education to be the most interesting, followed by the economy and social policy. Along with that, the issues regarding the enlargement of the EU, the cultural policy, the international relations, the regional policy and the EU budget are the ones the young find to be the least interesting. The manner in which the examinees gather information on the European Union mostly include the mass media outlets (the press, the television and the radio), and only then other forms of information gathering, such as discussions with their families and friends, surfing the Internet, specialized books and other published material, and the activities of non-governmental organizations. There are no significant differences in the use of the stated sources of information between the young and the older examinees, except in the case of the Internet. Considering the examinees from the 25 EU member countries, they use all of the observed sources as a way of getting information about the European Union, its policies and institutions, in a smaller amount. The examination of the objective knowledge of the examinees on specific issues related to the European Union has yielded devastating results. Thus, when asked about the phase Croatia was in, regarding the accession process into the EU, at the moment the research was being conducted, the correct answer was given by only a third of both the young and the older examinees. The second question asked, dealt with the familiarity of certain institutions of the European Union. The young and the older examinees do not differ very much from each other regarding their knowledge of this issue: the most familiar institution to both of them is the European Parliament, followed by the European Commission, then the EU Council of Ministers, then the European Central Bank, while all the other institutions were familiar to less than two fifths of the Croatian examinees. The examined citizens of the European Union are, understandably, more familiar with each of the observed institutions. The social attributes of the young, causing the greatest differences regarding their level of information, are mostly the ones connected to their level of socio-cultural qualifications (the socio-professional status and the level of education), followed by gender, and then provenience, regional affiliation and the age of the examinees. The highest level of information and knowledge belongs to men from the oldest age cohort of youth, those born and living in large cities, the inhabitants of the most developed regions, students and the employed examinees, as well as those with a higher education degree, the non-religious and examinees preferring liberal and left-wing parties. Along with all that, it is important to stress that a better level of knowledge and information about the European Union, its policies, institutions and enlargement process, correlates to positive attitudes about the different aspects of the European Union (the image of the EU, the following of issues related to it, the support for the Croatian accession to the Union, and so on), which, most probably, means that they are mutually determined. The inter-generational comparison has, on the other hand, indicated that the older examinees are more interested in most issues appearing in the media, especially politics, and that they assess their level of information to be better than do the young examinees. To put it shortly, the results of the research on the information level and knowledge of the Croatian citizens – both young and old – about the European Union, have indicated that they are not that interested in the European Union issues, as much as their level of presence in the media and the political agenda might imply, and the examinee' s knowledge about the relationship of Croatia and the EU is at an even lower level. Henceforth, it is necessary to conduct a strong and comprehensive public campaign directed precisely at the increase of the level of information and knowledge of the citizens about the European Union and what it represents, so that when the issue comes to the agenda, the Croatian inhabitants might make an educated decision about their country' s accession to that community of European states. The research results presented above may be summarized into a number of tendencies and statements of a wider nature. The political culture of the young testifies, in a number of aspects, to an approximation to the desirable democratic standards – especially regarding the acceptance of basic liberal-democratic values and the readiness for social engagement, at lease in principle – however, their social power and social capital are at a low level. At that, the young are aware of their own social and political marginalization, and recognize an entire plethora of measures that might help them gain a certain measure of power and become active citizens, as is desirable in a democratic society, but they do not use sufficiently the channels of social and political promotion, which are at their disposal. Today' s generation of youth expresses a lower level of social sensitivity and is more oriented toward individual efforts and family resources in the realization of life goals. At that, it seems that the young are not aware of the fact that an unequal access to existing social resources of the young generation today will have generated an unequal social status when they come of age. Hence, we can expect a widening and deepening of the process of social decomposition, that should be corrected through mechanisms that are supposed to ensure the highest possible equality of chances in the access to social resources (most of all, education). What we mean to say is that human capital is what Croatia, as a small and an insufficiently developed country, should deal with very thoughtfully. This, at the same time, signifies a maximum of investment into the development of human potentials, where the young generation certainly comes first. The inter-generational differences regarding the readiness of Croatia for accession into the European Union, and the relationship toward the European integration, are not of such a type and scale that there could be any mention of a generational gap, however, they are indicative. The most visible fact is that the young have demonstrated a more liberal, tolerant and flexible disposition, that they have a higher belief in the potentials of their own generation, and that they are consistent in their pro-European orientation, where they see their own generation as one of the certain winners of the Croatian accession into a united Europe. These trends suggest that the potentials of the young are a resource to be seriously reckoned with on the Croatian road into the EU. The process of the Croatian accession into the European Union is linked to different difficulties that affect the attitudes of citizens about the importance of Croatian entrance into the EU. Through this research, we have clearly detected that, unlike the Croatian political elite, both the young and the older citizens do not consider the Croatian integration into EU, to be the most important political goal. The political priorities of the citizens seem to be quite different, and their support to the project of European integration is weakening. It is, then, realistic to expect this trend to continue if the problematic events in the European Union persist, just as the difficulties in the relationship of Croatia and the EU, as well as the unfavorable economic and social trends in Croatia itself. This is why there are two equally important political tasks facing the ruling political elite: the initiation of the development of Croatia and an well-argumented explanation to the Croatian citizens why the country' s integration in the united Europe is purposeful.

Issue 36.3 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edtted by faculty members of St Lores University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May 1977 Volume 36 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS; P.O. Box 6070~ Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW I~OR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Nomadic Love Rita Bernard Walton, S.S,J. Sister Rita Bernard resides at the Corpus Christi Convent; Sumneytown Pike and Supplee Rd.; Lansdale, PA 19446. :: Fpr centuries men have responded to a voice, a formless, faceless, nameless voice, a voice that pierced the inner depths like a fiery sword saying: "Come and see" (see Jn 1:35-51). To come and see is to come into Jesus, and to respond to the call is only to hear it repeated over, again and again, to _come deeper into Jesus. It means a lifetime of coming and a lifetime of seeing as one .surprise of.love follows another:in living in Jesus. The heart hears the silent language of Jesus' love that calls for acceptance. 'The acceptance of his love entails ac-cepting all the Lover is and~ all he gives. He gives himself in sacrament, in word,, in life. He reveals himself slowly with each love-touch and fills the soul with wonder at the awesome burden with which he impregnates it. ~In this prayer of love one is. urged to stand firm, to persevere in the gift of.,love in the sense that St. Paul urged the Thessalonians to stand firm: ,"Stand firm, then, brothers, and keep the traditions that we taught y0,u, whether by word of mouth or by letter" (2 Th 2: 15). "Standing firm" is a recognition of having been chosen, loved, formed and hollowed. It is a 'recognition of one's emptiness and fullness in Christ Jesus. To "stand firm" is to accept further the responsibility to love and be loved;~to be known and to,know the God who is. "Standing firm" is to be used, used as a reed on which he plays his tune. ~ Coming deep into this love with Jesus re~uires a lea.ring behind of all ~hat ,is self and, in some way, living within the heart the life of a nomad by abandoning oneself to the purpose~ of the Lord in an emptiness of spirit-- being a nomad without a desert other than the desert of life itself. This nomad 337 338 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 life whets the appetite for the fullness of the kingdom, a life fully embraced. The nomad life is a living in joy, a living wholly in the now. This great love renders one powerless and defenseless and 'one. feels the pain of the rendering. Such powerlessness allows God to be G6d, bring-ing to the lips a prayer for an increase of faith which enkindles hope and which builds further the great fire of love. In this love-prayer, the~desire to pray and prayer itself are planted in the heart of one's being by the God of ¯ love. As the desire is nurtured, the heart of one's being grows and ~.the cycle of life in prayer develops. It is recognized as the Lord's gift. This writer invites the reader at this point to place himself or herself in the sandals of the nomad and let the following speak directl3)' td you. Come and see, Nomad. The nomad carries little. The nomadic lover carries little, too, for this lover must pass through love's gate as through the eye of the needle, free of encumbrances and the excess baggage of self-love. As nomadic lover you go through the doorway of Jesus as yourself~ as a real person. You go with Jesus' to go through Jesus into Jesus more deeply,, realizing so de.eply that Jesus is in you filling you with so much love. Loving is what living is all about. Living the love of Jesus is allowing the fruit of hislove to be'~plucked while it is ripe and rich. Following Jesus in nomadic love leads you to a still point. A still .point is a further death to self. Freed of the baggage and clutter of ~elf-will, hands are emptied to embrace the Will of the Father, the Cross of-Jesus, the Gifts of the Spirit. This still point is an intense grace of being~known, and being filled with an unknown kind of knowing God in his Oneness and Trinity of Persons. Reaching, or being brought to this still point of love is like passing through the turmoil of a storm and no longer being in .the path of its destruction, but aware of it and aware of being held at the center of calm only by his grace. It is an experience of an overwhelming sense .of quiet joy where your being sings an endless, wordless song of silent praise. Nomadic love extends you and develops all the facets of yourself, and then it changes you. You become a new self with all the old facets"refined. 'You come to a point where you hardly know yourself, and yet you do, more deeply than you did before. If the Beloved allows you to see yours.df"vfith his eyes you see a sight of beauty, surprising beauty. What you see is so grace-laden and love-filled that your heart responds again in silen(, ioyful song to the love and the Lover who has made you this way. You know that all this grace and beauty are his gift to your creature-self. It is yours to 'rejoic( in, to use and to give away~ When you return to your owns, seeing, you find you are the same, but not the same. You have been held b~y Love unaware of space and time and you somehow know that you hold a inystery~ and are held by Mystery. The nomadic lover has thus rested in th~ sweet oasis of love. ' Soon, however, the nomad is stirred from the oasis-rest .by th~ silent Nomadic Love / 339 voice the heart has come to know. "Rise, cla~p my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven," by Francis Thompson). "Yes" becomes the word on your lips and the journey continues. Now the desert stretches dry ahead and its night settles in like a winter season. The fruit and the comfort and rest of an oasis are not in sight, but the memory of them warms your heart. All is silent within and without, and the nomad must stand firm in the silence as would a silent sentinal. The treasure of love must be guarded within the heart. As nomadic lover in the desert night you know, you be-lieve~ you trust in the touchless Lover who is with you, who encircles you with his love. A nomadic lover prays: I cannot walk, my Love, I cannot walk alone. I must be led, or carried. I cannot trust myself, my own sense of direction. I must let myself be lost as it were, with no map or seeable route on this journey in faith and trust and love with You. My Love, I depend solely on You and Your guidance with no desire other than the desire to be Yours. You p!ace in shadow all that has been familiar during this journey with You. The oasi~ of Your gifts and consolaiions is lost ¯ in the darkness of this desert night in order to test my love for You alone. My~ Love, I ask for the grace of receptivity. Open me to the greatness of desiring You . for Yourself alone. ".Rise, clasp my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven"). So, once again Nomad, you hear yourself asked to "come and see" mindful you are nomad by invitation; that the journey is a gift and that you do not "stir love until its appo~inted time" (Song of Songs 2:7). Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? Marie Emmanuel, S.C. Sister Marie Emmanuel, though retired otficially, icontinues to exercise an extensive apostolate through her writings. She resides at Mount St. Joseph, OH 4505.1. No writer can speak from her heart unless wha( she says is consciously directed to a well-defined group of readers. Even a g!ance at the topic sentences of the following paragraphs, for example, would indicate that this article would "turn off" religious caught up in the urgencies' of seeking self-fulfillment, of 'being recognized as a person, of securing independence, and of embracing a life-style which has much more in common with that of a career girl or married woman than with that of the traditional religious of ten or fifteen years ago. And these same pages would probably read like something from outer space to the few fortunate religious in whose com-munities wholesome, holy religious life has somehow managed to survive experimentation. The vast majority of American sisters, however, belong to neither of these groups. They are the typical religious of our decade the thoiasands who look with aching hearts on what mistaken attempts at renewal (a renewal too often not rooted in a primary interest in the things of God!) have done and are doing to their corrimunities, and to religious life itself as they can see it. Their cause is seldom taken up by the religious press or cham-pioned by speakers; yet they are the ones who are holding the line for Christ. They know what their Lord was asking of them when he called them to their community--and they know what they gave. him on their vow day. Integrity permits them to dilute neither his divine requests nor their giving. These are the religious who must be assured that their questioning is being heard, that their Calvary is understood, and that, if they have but faith, their fears for religious life itself will be quieted by the same dear 340 Grassroots Sisters Today:~ Calvary People? Anawim? / 341 Christ who answered the frightened apostles in the tempest-tossed boat on Galilee: "O ye of little faith, why do you doubt?" Not even the hardiest can deny, of course, that hurricanes have been buffeting religious life for a decade or more, and that unprecedented winds and waves have sadly battered the bark of those who follow the evangelical counsels. There is no question here of the exaggerated fears of timid souls. Too many facts corroborate 'the ~threats, too many experiences bolster appre-hension. All one need do to be convincedis read, watch and listen. " See whathas happened in our day to the observance of poverty and obedience! And often not even chastity survives at least not envisioned as an espousal relationship with Christ, a concept which, iust a short time ago, was. generally accepted as basic to the vow. Silence no more has a place in most Interim Directives; prayer has become largely a completely personal matter, with sometimes not even the offi~ze or rosary said in com-mon; and the whole concept of community living is under attack. One does not have to be a seer to be aware that in some congregations goals, aposto- ,lares, and life-style have been so revolutionized that even the most recent of founders would be hard put to recognize their own! Administrators of certain large American communities, for example, seeing membership plummeting and the median age rapidly rising, have °already experimented with the idea of extending membership to anyone who wishes to live with the sisters, "regardless of sex, religious affiliation or marital status." In some religious houses such~ extended membership is already an accepted fact. At a meeting of formation personnel late in 1975, one young director told her audience (and was immediately quoted in metro-politan and diocesan newspapers) that her community had "already opened its doors to such .applicants, among them a married woman, a divorcee, and a woman whose husband is in Europe." These people, she assured her hearers, "share the life and home of the sisters and are regarded as mem-bers, not as guests; employees or volunteers." In order to supplement recruitment, other congregations have accepted girls who came with the avowed intention of staying just for a year or two, although canon law has stipulated that candidates may not enter on a temporary basis, that they must have the iiatention of remaining or at least the hope of determining their permanent vocation by honest trial. We hear,. too, of young religious who, though they may have entered with the inten-tion of remaining, are now reluctant to maki~ any permanent commitment and are being permitted to stay on indefinitely, despite canonical strictures, merely making temporary "promises" over and over. Yet though membership is being supplemented in such unorthodox ways, genuine religious vocations in America have dwindled to almost nothing. Vineyards entrusted to us by the Church are abandoned for works of our own choosing; conx;ents stand empty in the midst of fields white for the harvest, and the tragic exodus of professed sisters "back to the world" con- 342 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 tinues, though God knows that some motherhouses have few, except the aged, left. A further tragedy lies in the fact that those who remain tend to fall into groups so diverse in their reactions to experimentation that the attainment of consensus in basic areas becomes impossible. There are the sisters of all persuasions, liberal and conservative, who are content with the status quo as they meet it; there are the crusader.s, dissatisfied with the ."inadequacy" of experimentation as they see ,it initiated, and dedicated to revamping re-ligious life now to conform to what they consider relevant to today's world. And then there is the army of ordinary sisters down at the grassroots who have suffered shock after shock as they were subjected to innovations (allegedly designed to make them more relevant, more self-fulfilled, and more libera.ted, but which have a~:tually proven incompatible with their ideals of religious life) who are now openly seeking answers to the disturb-ing questions which haunt them. "What is going to become of religious life?" they ask in desperation akin to that of the apostles, when their small boat was. storm-tossed that night on Galilee. "Will,it someday be impossible in my community to live the life I v6wed? What will be left of religious life when all this experimen-tation is officially ended?" Before sisters consider the future of their own communities in the light of such questi0.ns, it is logical that a prognosis for religious~ life itself be attempted. Is it dying? Is it still relevant? A number of current books study the topic from various points of view, but the Vatican II Fathers .have already settled all doubts in ~this regard bY the place in the modern Church which they assigned to religious. A dying group would scarcely be commissioned, as religious were in the Constitution on the Church, to ,"stren.gthen the kingdom in soul~, and extend it to every clime." And who is relevant to our confused, anguished world if not those to whom the council, in the same document, entrusted the needy of that world? "Religious should carefully consider that through them, to believers and unbelievers alike, (he Church wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," decreed the Council Fathers. "Through them, Christ should be seen contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, healing the sick and maimed,, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent them." There is not one .sufferer among all those who throng our streets, or whose stories are blazoned in, the daily press or pictured on TV, who does not fit into one of the categories listed by the Council as being charges of today's religious. There is no human need, spiritual or temporal, which has not been confided to our charity in our own time by Holy Mother Church herself. Therein lies our blueprint of relevance. Father Thomas iDubay, contemporary writer on living the evangelical Grassroots Sisters Today." Calvary People? Anawim? / 343 counsels, states: "The religious life belongs inseparably to the Church's life and holiness . Periodically, in the history of the Church, someone is likely to prophesy the death of religious-life. Our day is no exception. Yet so closely bound up with evangelical perfection are consecrated virginity, voluntary poverty and ecclesial obedience, that to predict the disappearance of religious life is to assert the irrelevance of the gospel. The profession of the evangelical counsels may decline, through human weaknesses, but dis-appear it willnot.''~ Yet, notwithstanding such assurances, sisters confide that try as they will to tell themsel~,es that all will be right, they cannot shut their eyes~to what is happening in many communities. "Is it unreasonable," they ask, "to wonder how I can trust, when I know how convent walls have tumbled down since the '60's, destroyed not by enemies of the Church but by con-secrated women who are .apparently casting aside the very.essentials of religious life so as to grasp the best of two vocations without assuming the responsibilities of either? How can I"even hope that I will always be a nun, when I see congregations once flourishing and fervent actually falling apart or so revolutionized as to be unrecognizable?" Of course, there are no pat answers, as there are no pat answers for other questions'which vex us today. But Peter and his companions were expert sailors, and they had seen other vessels go down in squalls on Galilee like the one they were battling. Yet Christ rebuked them that night for their lack of faith when they were apprehensive. He did not tell them how to ride out the storm, he gave them no practical directives. But he did reassure them. "Fear not!" he said. And he did calm the winds and the buffeting waves, and bring his friends Safe to.shore. Suppbse their boat had sunk in the storm. Can we doubt that our Lord would have saved his 6wn; so that they still might, become the Spirit-driven anawim who were to establish his Church? That should tell us something! And there are many other gospel stories.~which'can set our troubled hearts at rest. This is a goodtime to remember~Bethany, for example; we who are frightened by what the future may hold have Christ's own word that our "best part"-~will never be taken away from us. In,another passage he gives us his solemn assurance that he will be with us always, and that whatever we ask in.prayer will be given us;, even to" feats like moving mountains! He reminds us that we did not choose him; it was he who called us. Dare we insinuate that-he was trifling with our hearts in making that invitation on our vow day? No, the circmfistances surrounding our aposto-lates may indeed be drastically altered, but our consecration to Christ no one no one--can take from us! Right now many mature religious stand onCalvary. We try to assure ourselves, perhaps, that faith and hope demi~nd that we look forward to a 1Ecclesial Women, by Thomas Dubay, 'S.M. (New York: Alba House, 1970). 344 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 glorious Easter, when resurrection joy and peace will fill our hearts again. That Easter will come. But ~hould we begin to face the possibility that we, personally, may never see its glad dawning? Maybe our little boat won't survive this. tempest! What if our community becomes so debilitated or so revolutionized that it no longer is our.community? Do we love Christ so much that we can offer ourselves, in that event, to become his anawim, the remnant beloved by God, who will somehow continue to carry on his work in and for a world which hungers for him while it rejects him? That may well be what he is asking of us now. If this should happen and we find our 'institutes rapidly losing all re-semblance to the dream of evangelical perfection which God gave our founders and to which he called us, we can find comfort, first of all, in knowing that religious life, itself will never die. That is where faith and hope lead us today. Isn't that, perhaps, where they leave many of.us, too? Let's admit it: we, at least we sisters in America, may well be Calvary-people all our lives. But .wasn't that what our Lord was? The shadow of the Cross touched everything he looked on, and Easter came only after the final agony of the crucifixion. "Fear not.t" Our Lord is saying to us. Even though this congregation or that is shaken, religious life will always flower somewhere in the Church, and no sister will ever be dispensed ]rom perpetual vows unles~ she herselI .has chosen, in some way, to cancel her commitment to the God who loves her with an everlasting love. 'We must remember that when things look black, when maybe even our own beloved community may seem'to be racing toward disaster.~, We must hang onto the fact, too, that "retreat masters and others in a position to see and judge are finding rainbows arcing over motherhouses here and there, where experimentation has not only. been lived through but is reaping a golden harvest of renewal. True, such blessed communities doubtless still have their respective cordons of dissidents unhappy because changes haven't been radical enough, but interested now in the ordination of women, in 'political jobs~ or~ in being, vocal on controversial theological questions. Their current involvement in topics beyond the jurisdiction of their communities leaves the body of the, membership free to yield. ;to the Spirit, and to concentrate on intensive, broadly-varying spiritual programs, which one priest-director tells me are proving "an astonishing purification, a genuine spiritual renewal, and a happy return to the ideals of the foun-ders" of several communities with whom he is in contact. How heartened many grassroots sisters should be by rumors of such rainbows, which indicate that for some religious at least, the storm is over for the time and the Paschal Sun is shining! There are communities, too, which have never lost their balance, but which, despite growing pressures, have managed to adhere t,o their self-definition and to maintain the life of the counsels as their founders would Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? / 345 have it lived at present. They are the ones (believe it or not!) who are be-ing sought out by young women who want just what these communities will give them. The same retreat master I quoted before confided that one such community with which he works "is swimming with postulants and novices, bright and lively young things who enter precisely because of the habit; who are genuinely (if youthfully) in earnest about learning the spirit of their congregation and (and through) the spirit of their founder." So even if, in our corner of the world, the eclipse still leaves us groping in dark and cold, we can rejoice that somewhere the sun is shining again on happy, holy novitiates and on burgeoning religious life. We can rejoice, too, that our way of-life is a good way; despite the odds against us, we do contribute to the holiness of the Church! And it is a relevant way. Millions of people contact God today because sisters still live and work among them. So if our particular corner of the vineyard is languishing, we must simply put our hand into the hand of Christ and trust him to use us as he will. Through an ordeal.like this, our consciences should reassureus that we are not disloyal because we can foresee local debacles resulting from ill-ad-vised changes in the very basics of~religious life. As mature religious we can-not help but be aware that congregations which cut themselves free from their moorings an the Church and dispose of authority, vows, silence, community prayer and the common life with fine, dispatch, are no longer offering their members the type of life the.y vowed to follow: There is no disloyalty here. No, it is love for the life to which Christ calls us that prompts us to challenge attemis°ts at renewal which have gotten out of hand. The pro~ing questions one hears now on all 'sides should alert the powers that be to the fact that definitely all is not well. Before it is too late, those influential in community affairs throughout the country should take inventory to see wfiether religious, life, as they are manipulating it, can flourish and bear the fruit God expects. Only a prayerful, serious evaluation by those supposedly in authority can dete~rmine for any congregation whether experimentation is sanctifying its members or secularizing them, meeting the needs of their assigned apostolates or merely working toward human goals or personal self-fulfillment. That some groups will not see the necessity for such reconsideration is a sad commentary on the problem. It is good, therefore, that individual sigters are not closing their eyes to what is being done, that we at last are asking serious qui~stions and seeking honest answers. We are not discountenancing faith and hope when we admit that we think it possible that our partiqular vineyards may someday lie in ruins. Rather, our faith and hope could never be fairer .than when we watch our dear garden-places transformed into alien desert and yet hold fast to Christ, confidefit of his love, ready to take up our interrupted apos-tolat~ wherever he wants us to be and to do whatever he may send us to do, even if that is just to suffer and pray for the harvest which we may no longer have an opportunity to plant or gather in. Symbols.'. Signs. and the Times Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is engaged in development work. curriculum planning and public relations at Cornelia Connelly High School; 2323 W. Broadway; A~aheim, CA 92804. _~er degree is in the field of sociology. Technically speaking,' says S. R. Wilson, signs are not symbols. Signs are perceptible m~inifes~ations which point to a condition present or to come because they flow from the ultihaate reality underlying the sign. In this sense signs are revelatory because the natural objects involved are ]as in-trinsic~ illy related to the ~:eality underneath as the smell of an onion is to the onion itself. For example, hot forehe'ad, weakness, perspiration and chills signify fever. Signs, in thig sense, cross cultural barriers of language and fl~ish essentially the identical message-content to all who can read the signs. At some point in history the acctimulated wisdom of a l~eople unravels the mystery behind the sign and passes on the same m.essage from generation to generation. Thus signs are stable in content because that which we~ per-ceive bears an unalterable and peculiar relationship to the reality wtii~zh is present or coming to be. Symbols are different. They are arbitrary things which are invested with 1Sociologists, in developing the implications of symbolic interaction, have made some distinctions between sign and symbol that differ markedly from the'more traditional scholastic terminology contrasting natural and conventional signs. For example, Berger and Luckmann in The Social Construction o! Reality speak.of "detachability" as a characteristic of all signs and sign systems while symbols are any significative themes achieving maximum detachability by reason of their being located in one sphere of reality but referring to ahother. A far simpler presentation by S R. Wilson has generated a line of thought that can be applied to the contemporary religious scene with some profit for us if we are willing to follow up his line of thought"with some applications made on our own. 346 Symbols. Signs . . . and the Times / 347 a tempbrary message by consensus of the group which employs the symbol. Symbols are the shorthand which capsulizes a larger"concept, perhaps an abstract one--the cryptography which presupposes that the users share the meaning so fully'that they can afford to reduce it to a kind of code word, that beStows brevity without sacrificing richness. There need not be any necessary connection between the choice of an object to act as symbol and the content of the message.Symbols are temporary: time-bound~ timely,, tied to. context so they lose their significance or are invested with new meanings in new times. How fickle symbols can be is well exemplified'by the quirk of fate that transmuted .Churchill's gallant V-for-victory hand salute into the peace symbol of the 1960's. Signs are natural, unequivocal, independent "of time and place an~l ¯ language, Symbols are culture;bound, subject to misinterpretation by the uninitiated and to re-interpretation by succeeding in-groups, long- or short, lived depending on the consistency of the ,sub-culture that employs them. Perhaps some reflection on this distinction, between sign and symbol can shed light, on:,one of the dilemmas facingreligious today. We religious have tried abruptly 'to change our symbol ~ystem and we find often enough that We have lost our sign value in the world., of today, We changed 9ur dress to relate more easily to the world of the ~twentieth century. Removing a barrier did not automatically create a sign 6f the Lord present among us. We chose the symbol system of modern womanhood .and sometimes found ourselves comfortably bunched .in with all the other .bananas. The public we served was not interpretifag our symbolic action as we meant it to be. And we are forced to recognize that the dress we donned and the veil we doffed were only symbol--not sign, not natural,.cross,cultural., unequivocaI expression of what .is or what is to come--:-only symbol, 9nly thingg subject tO misinterpretation, 'time-bbund even for us who made the gesture of changing the symbolmand ambivalent;~ even,~ to the ~degree. that not all religious~would agree on the what. and the why of the gesture. By and large our people are complimentary 'and comfortable with our new look, yet amid a growing congeniality we. have lost some of the eschatological sign value that should be ours. Why? I, Hazarding guesses is hazardous and it is;my guess that an understanding of signs and symbols can shed some light. If we understood how 'a society creates .a symbol, if we understood how a group learns toread a sign, .per-haps we could appreciate the impact of. context on communication. Accurate identification of the "things': we use to present ourselves depends on the context in which we use them. Think of ~ome "symbols" we have adopted in the last few years: There are religious who see denim as denoting fellow-ship with the poor, But with the escalation of the denim fashion' parade, to many people denim speaks of the radical chic, the young affluent who chooses to dress down, the professional would-be college kid revolting against .white shirts and starched,collars. To many, "fellowship" with a 348 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 "groovy" bunch in.~faded cut-offs has no religious connotations whats6ever. We want to say simplicity of life-style; they hear over-age college set gone "mod." Unwittingly, there is growing up a garbled version of the Fountain of Youth myth where what we wanted to hand on was the Good News about the Fountain of Living Waters which springs up in men of faith. Our~ sym-bols aren't bad; it's just that we exist in a cultural context which colors the interpretation of symbols "due to circumstances beyond our control . " We are talking about the fact that we can't control the whole configura-tion of life that put denim (or its equivalent) into a context in which it will be understood by those who see the same symbol system used to convey a different message. We human beings acting in concert unconsciously invest symbols with meaning 6nly in context. + can mean Christianity or + can mean add it all depends on what goes with it. It's the nature of symbol to be tied to other people's mentality. Let me" push the notion of symbols-in-context a bit further. In some ways symbols are .like bumper stickers~ That is, they are "one-liners", that punch out a limited message about one aspect of a question or point of view--concise, catchy, incontrovertible as far as they go. But when we are talking about the sign value of religious in their mission of revelation, we find that we aren't able to frame the essential message and crop off all the peripheral or block out all the other things we do and are. Hence, our symbols are never seen except in a broader context of the configuration of our whole lives. Let's think a little then about configuration. Have you ever pondered the variety of countenances .the Lord has fashioned out of the simple set of major elements such as two eyes, a nose, a mouth, some small degree of color in the eyes, some minor variations-- all within the magnitude of an inch or less--in the spacing of these ele-ments, the alignment of them, and so forth? Fantastic how .little he had to work with and yet how totally unique are the billions of faces that inhabit the universe! And all ~.because the particular configuration of similar ele-ments so alters the' finished product! How marvelous is the import of the configuration in which a single pair of blue eyes is set in defining the unique profile of a German lass as opposed to a California coed! Taken separately all the major elements of their countenances could be identical. Only the final configuration gives the identity to each as a unique person. Something like that is true of our symbol systems. When we changed our bleak habit woolens for blue denim or for fashionable fabrics and styles, we also re-arranged a thousand seemingly unrelated parts of the mosaic Called life-styles. Visits to hairdressers, pierced ears, cosmetics, jewelry, stereo sets in our rooms, guitars under our arms, weekends at the beach or skiing in the mountains, ten-speeds, dining out when pressures mount, happy hours and wine-and-cheese-get-togethers--all the places we went and the things we did in our new dress. And gradually we blended with the Every Woman in tune with the times--and lost any aura of the "otherness" of Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 349 the woman in touch with the Lord. It is frustrating and confusing since there is nothing wrorig with any of the items taken separately, nothing that could not serve as a ~,ehicle for inserting the message of the Lord into the modern context. Yet, unfortunately, the gap between intentions and outcome is real, if we'dare tell it as it is. So what can we do in such a dilemma? Retreat to our pre,Vatican II existence? . How dare we even consider such a move--we who have been called by. the Lord in his Church to seek ever new ways to bring his .same truth to our age? ~ . I believe that there are several lines of action open to us. First, and perhaps the easiest to admit, we must recognize.that a private symbol sys-tem whose true message is known only to ourselves is a useless tool for communication. Hence, in our recognition ~of the public nature of the sym-bols we choose to employ, we must be attentive to the feedback from those around us, the feedback that comes in the form of spoken criticism or spoken praise, and also the feedback that comes in the form of a vacuum-- the indication that we aren't, even noticed~ This isr not so easy since it implies that if we listen and respond'just to, those who catch the message, it might be we are only speaking to our in-group. Openness to criticism and willing-ness to. vary our approach is the on13~ way that will. make our knowledge of de facto social interpretation of symbols work for the good we yearn to. do. Apropo.s., algo, is the need for a discerning spirit that can ferret out the essence of a critical remark and that has no fear to dare to be different if the difference is where, it really: counts--difference, because our fundamental orientation even in choosing fashionable clothes, and so forth, is utterly other. For the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of those around me, for the sake of my apostolic effectiveness I choose to use the things I use; for ¯ their ability to extend my vital concerns outward, not just for their ability to enhance me. From .the apostolic point of view ~vhat my symbol system says to. those around rn"e is:more important than what it"says to me as long as"it is genuine. , A second direction in which to focus our attention is on the mutability (as w~ll as .f.allibility) of any~ symbol which derives from the other mean-ings conferred on the "things" we use or do by other people whose message differs from ours. '~We can always afford to bend and 'blend and experiment with our symbol system in order to keep it 'up-to-date. Indeed, we must be alert to those circumstances beyond our control which render any system obsolete or .misleading--changing customs, .changing values in some areas of life, changing vocabulary. Even semaiatics can' cause a loss of utility in a given form of expression. Knowing' the difference between what is essential and what is merely an arbitrary, ,though well-chosen, form of expression is an art capable of infusing life ,into the means we use to contact the world around us; The art of choosing wisely, rests largely on the nature of what we.try to signify. How can we speak to men of our God who is so utterly 350 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 other? What has holiness to say to a modern world? What can communicate spirit to flesh:and-blood men of today?. As men and nations,~scramble tO get, what words speak of giving.'? And what can emptying oneself to put:.on Christ say to empty men who have lost .their own identity? When thinking men unite to feed the world's hungry because 'the survival of all ultimately depends on the wise sharing of resources, how does one say that enlightened self'interest isn't enough? For a task of this magnitude, perhaps symbol .is the wrong tool. Maybe we can't rely~on a form of "shorthand" for all that the Christian message means to us. Perhaps we have to strive; to explicate our message--impress it more fullythrough expressions revelatory, :flo~ving from the essential reality of life in Christ. Earlier we spoke of the smell of an onion as peculiar to the. reality that is the onion. Substitute perfume to the rose if you prefer, but that is just how specific our expression should be to what 'it is we're trying to communicate! Perhaps sign is called for-- natural, unequivocal, universal harbinger of 'what is or what is to come. Sin~:e whatever we do can be so easily mis-read by a generation that rarely reflects deeply, our?language" (spoken, body, symbol) must be one that is unequivocal, timelessly true, inextricably bound up with the nature of what we communicate. Our "language" must be sign of what is or what is to come. We can only hope to sign the Lord to the world if we ourselves can be the living revelation of~God present among us, actuating what we are. When we so live in the presence of God that his thoughts have become ours, his con-cerns, outs, we can hope that the vitality of his life in us will speak to"men of Someone else, just as Jesus invariably led people beyond himself to ". the~Father who sent me; the Father himself loves you. ; if you knew me you would know the Father also . . . the words I speak are not mine but the Father's; . as my F~'ther sent me so I also . ; I do always what the Father command~ . . . ; I must be about my Father'S' business~. ; I will ask the Father and he will send you the Paraclete . . . ; whatever you ask for in my name that I will do so that the Father may be glorified in the Son . , . ; the world must: be brought to know .that I love the Father. ; I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from myFather." It was when Jesus said. to his own, "I came from the Father,and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the ,Father," that his men replied at long last, "Now you are: speaking clearly . because of this we believe that you came from God.,." (Jn 16:28-31.). Hardly can we expect to be heard by our world tif we are less specific! Hardly do we ~dare to be so specifi!! Yet. I doubt that there is one of us who has,not in prayer thrilled to the vocation that is ours and marveled that God should choose to use us as a means of revealing and witnessing to his presence in the world. We believe--and yet . We shall never be able to offer our people more than fickle symbols until it becomes "natural" for us to perceive and Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 351 to speak of ourselves as signs that God is present and coming~ Our work for the poor may appear to be just the fad of generous adolescence or neo-humanism in action unless we are in fact coming from God and drawing our people to God. Angry activists can demand' prison reform as effectively as we and still remain atheists'. To what am I signing on the picket lines or in the classroom? Many good men grow whole from their repulsion over human suffering. Ft. George Aschenbrenner, in his article, "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father" (REviEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jan., i975), spoke of the healing ministry of Jesus as springing from his vision of the holiness of God. So, too, for us philanthropy is not enough, It is significant that a woman of~ our times renown for her ministry of healing has had her story told to the world under the title, Something Beauti[ul for God. Mother Theresa undoubtedly comes to her poor as one sent ~by God to lead them on to him. Her meaning is unequivocal, its con-tent crosses language barriers and surmounts limitations of time and place. She is indeed a signto all of.the presence of God in his creation. But how was she different? She adapted the dress and the practices of religious life to the customs of India; so have we striven to meet America in the twentieth century. What more is there to it? . ' Perhaps it isosomehow or other connected with her approach to the first major work that .she undertook: her concern for the dying, the terminally ill; the cases that most of the hospitals there would not accept today be-cause there is nothing-that can be gained from medical treatment, there is no hope of recovery: . . . There is an element in her preoccupation with the dying that shouts aloud that dying is not the end, that even a dying man is worthy of respect and love and concern. Hers was an attitude-in-action which pointed a reality present in he~r and pre~sent in her world of the dying that could only mean that death~was not what it seemed to be to the masses who passed by the dying beggar in the streets. The reality alive in the center of her being revealed itself in act and attitude peculiar to those who know the God and Father of Jesus Christ. She was indeed a sign of God present in his world. Mother Theresa shows~us that it is possibleto be a sign in the world. What she stands,.for speaks internationally of humanity's ability, to stand 'before the experience of the Holy. Even more exciting, what she is and has become for our age is the revelation~that a person~who is sign doesn't sim-ply point out statically something that has .happened to her or him but rather that such a sign enables the beholder to experience the Holy for him'- self. It not only'allows man to~'think about God, but it activates an en-counter between God ands.the beholder. Our interpretation of the sign be-comes experiential, not simply intuitional or cognitive. I believe that the authentic Christian witness offered by Mother Theresa and her co-workers demonstrates, by the grace of God, the essential ele-ments of signs in an eminent degree. The grace which incorporates one into 352 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 the very life of Jesus enables a human life to be a natural revelation of the supernatural reality that is present and coming: Man's. experience of the Holy as it radiates through, the person and personality of another chal-lenges with the unequivocal demand to "take off your shoes" in ~ome fashion. The call to respond is universal, that is, it °cries out to hearts of men of every tongue, time or religious .traditi0n---assuming their hearts have been initiated into the mystery of God. And there is nothing in the configura-tion of his life~style to confuse or to cloud or to bury the sign under a bushel basket. ': We know that the same grace of God confers p6tential sign value on us all, even beyond the extent.to which we surrender to its gentle usurpation of our natural self. We may need to study our lives to perceive the dynamic of their configuration. We can scrutinize what we do with our time,, what we talk about, what we expend our energies on, what delights us, what we do with our free time, what .people we interact With most often--~and why. What do people ,bring to us as topics of conversation and as cause for concern? Not just what are the ice-breakers, but what are~ the substantive issues? Or .are there any substantive issues?,, Is it just fashion~talk, hair styles, and where are the best sales, what restaurants do we like, what about the latest recording artists, what team will win the World Series, what shows are worth seeing, what books are topping the Best Sellers lists? As well.educated women and well-rounded persons, we ought to be capable and to be intrigued .by exploring all facets of the contemporary scene.Yet there is incumbent upon us always the urgency of the prophet: A voice commands: Cry! and 1 answered, "What shall I cry?. Shout with a loud voice, joyful messenger . Shout without fear, "Here is your God." (Is 40:6-9) If we spend a day without ever mentioning our God to our world; if we: converse wisely about everything else but not about the Cent6r of our lives; if for a day, and days and a day, we apply psychology and economics and political :science and medicine and pedagogy in the. healing of hearts and the enabling of those striving to break out of bondage of any sort, it well may be that we present ourselves as professional personswho can live without any practical application of our religious profession. Then it is un-derstandable that the totality of the configuration of our daily lives obscures the sign and justifies our world's propensity for reading us according to the symbol system in vogue where we are. Our anomaly gtems not from our doing anything wrong and not from our not doing anything .at all, but just from the fact that our peculiar blend of actions~and attitudes islso familiar to our people that we fail to communicate the otherness of God. ~Where Jesus is the song sung softly all day long in the hearts of his own who are called to witness to him in this day and age, the most appropriate Symbols . . . Signs .,°and the~ Times / 353 exhortation might be "Preach what you practice." In terms of this article that could be translated to mean, "Find the ways--the signs, the symbols, the. emphases in the particular blend of attitudes and activities that are our life--(to say we come) from an inner experience of the God who is present and who continuously is coming." In this sign surely we shall conquer! NoW Available, As: A Reprint,, Colloquy of God with a Soul That Truly Seeks Him ,Address: Price: ~;.30 per opy,~ 161us post~ige.' Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand '~ St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Reflections on Vowed Living1 Claire Brissette, S,S.Ch. Sister Claire. a graduate of the Center for the Study of Spirituality at the Institute of Man, Duquesne University, is engaged in ongoing formation work in her province, working with sisters primarily at the local community level. She resides at 297 Arnold St.; Wrentham. MA 02093. More than a decade ago, the Church, speaking officially through the Vatican Council, invited and challenged religious throughout the world to re-evaluate their institutional structures and to re-examine their~ lives in light of gospel values and the spirit of their founders. For most congregations and most religious men and women, the spiri~t of Vatican II soon became crystallized in the phrase "renew and°adapt." During the years immediately following the council, we opened the windows of our lives and hearts to let in the fresh air and warm sunshine of renewal chapters', of .'revised Acts of the Chapter, of experiments in life-style~ community living, apostolate and forms of prayer. We questioned the structures and values of religious liv-- ing all in a sincer~ effort to ~:espond to the dictates of Vatican II. Through- 1This article is an integration of personal reflections from various sources. In listing these sources, it is difficult to distinguish Where their thought ends and where mine-begins. I wish to acknowledge my gratitude to each of these authors and speakers for their insight which fias stimulated my own integrative reflection. Besides the publica-t'ions listed in the bibliography, the following workshops have also influenced the con-tents of this article: "The Life of the Counsels" given by Thomas Walsh, S.J. and ~Bernadette Casey, R.S.M. at the Diocesan Spiritual Life Center in Pawtucket, RI on Feb. 28-29, 1976; "Fashioning the Future,of Vowed Commitment" a ten day workshop given at Mt. Augustine, Staten Island, NY, during which nine nationally known speak-ers, m turn, provided input on a specific vow. Appreciation also goes to Susah Muto, Assistant Director of the Institute of Man,, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, for her helpful suggestions regarding the final draft, Of th~is a~rt!cle. 354 Reflections on 'Vowed Living / 355 Out this period of painful searching, we sought to discover the Spirit of the Lord guiding us through the confusion and turmoil of the~renewal. In more recent years, as~the initial turmoil has begun to subside, we have found ourselves facing and grappling with one of the deeper issues of the renewal, the meaning of our vows. Because of the :legalism that charac-terized our pre-Vatican II way of life, the meaning and living out of our. v6ws was often limited to external structures and rules. As many of these were put aside, and greater emphasis was placed on personal fulfillment and community living, poverty, celibacy and obedienc( seemed to fade into the background. We were no longer certain of (heir meaning_nor of their relevance forpost-Vatican religious life:' As we begin to take a new look at the meaning of our vowed consecration, the living of our vows is gradually emerging as the concrete expression of a personal love relationship with the Lord. In reflecting upon vowed living, 1 would like to elaborate upon the meaning of our love relationship with God, as well as on the meaning of each vow in light' of this love. Vowed Living: A Relationship of Love: A clue to the inner attitude of love which lies at the heart of our vowed living, may be found in the book of the Prophet Jeremiah:Experiencing an inner crisis, Jeremiah speaks of God rather boldly and directly, as he says, "You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger" (Jr 20::7). Perhaps oi, too, living a way of life that seems absurd to our superficial world, .can address these same words to God. I can look back into my life, and perhaps remem-ber the moment I was seduced by God, the moment I felt the closeness of his presence and love in my' life, and with my whole being,, responded '~yes" to his invitation of loveTIt was a total "yes," one that would plunge me .deeply into ~n intimate sharing in the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus, pone that would demand a constantly renewed surrender Of my whole self to his hidden designs upon my life. T0,seduce and to be seduced implies a love so deep and,~so strong that it enables lovers,to move beyond the externals of looks and ways, to touch one another's hearts. In thecase of God and,myself, a human creature, I have been ocaugh~up in the' infinite love of a God for me, and.,of my total love for my God. For some mysterious reason beyond my .limited compre-hension, God has fallen in love with me; I, in turn, have responded to his love. Our love for one another is not passing or temporary. Nor is it a senti-mental love. Rather, it is a love that has been sealed in the total consecrar tion of my entire being to him. It is a love that has changed radically the ¢ '-'For a more complete and di~tailed reflection on the love-relationship aspect of the vows, see Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spikit (Washington. DC: Corpus Publica-tions, 1968), pp. 71-163. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 course of my life, a love so powerful that I, a human creature, have allowed myself to be seduced by a God who is Spirit. "You have overpowered me: you were the stronger." At the moment of my "yes" to God, I experienced the overwhelming reality rOf his love_for me. Caught up in the experience of such a love, I could respond only with love, accepting to follow him wherever he would lead me. In my enthusiasm, perhaps it seemed to me then that just about anything was possible:. For, in my weakness, he would be my strength. In moments of darkness, he would light 'the way. In the experience of my powerlessness, l~e,would sus-tain me with his~power. Iri moments of ,aloneness, he would be .present in the silent depths of my heart. Confident of his love for me, and relying on his strength and power, I could say "yes" to a way of life that seemed some-what out of the-ordinary. Many years, perhaps; have passed.since the d~y of my love-filled "yes" to my Lord. Since that day, I have tasted the joys of my yes, as wel! as its sorrows and disappointments. I have also felt the weight of the cross, as well as the new and deeper life that has emerged from its pain. At times, also, I have perhaps doubted my Lord, for he seemed absent when I needed him most. And my flame of faith and love seemed on the verge of being extinguished. Through the persons who have entered my life, as well as through the various situations and events that have constituted my sacred journey with my Lord, my love has been tried and tested.In his love for me, my God~ has attempted to deepen and mellow my Iove~ for him. Each day, he continues to .purify my love, to shape and mold me, making me ever more precious in his. sight. Have I let myself surrender to his mysteri-ous ways of love in my life? As I reflect upon my love-relationship with my Lord, I need to realiz6 that as a human person, I am flesh and blood, limited by time and space as well as by my very nature. I can live out this love relationship only in a way that is possible for me, given who I am as a person, and~the concrete situation in which my Lord h~is placed me. He has probed me and has known me even before I.was knit in my mother's womb (see Ps 139). He knows better than I do what are my limits and abilities.,His love demands no more than what is possible for the human person I am. He is well aware that I cannot deny my human nature or my human needs. I can only tran-scend my needs in and through the experience.of his love for me and of mine for him. I also need to keep in mind that my love relationship with God, sealed on the day of .my religious consecration, deepens and,mellows over a life-time; as does the love of a married couple. I need to respect the present level of my relationship with him; while remain, ing open each day to concrete possibilities for deepening that love. Within the context of this love relationship between my Lord and me, it becomes possible to reflect on the lived meaning of our vows. For, if we consider vowed living only on the human level, we risk becoming enmeshed Relqections. on Vowed Living / 357 in such thinking as "My human needs are repressed." Or, "Human fulfill-ment is impossible." Or again~ "This way: of life doesn't make sense?' No, it doesn't make any sense at all, if we limit our vowed living to the nar-rowness of human logic and understanding. For God's ways are not ours, and what seems wise in the eyes of men is foolishness to God. Consequently, I need to take the leap of faith into the horizon of my love relationship with my Lord in order to grasp something of the spiritual meaning of vowed living. Consecrated Celibacy:' During a recent hospitalization, I was, to some extent, an "object of curiosity" for my roommate. She questioned me at length about my~life-style and work. But what puzzled her most was my celibate commitment: She .seemed unable to grasp why any+ne would want to make stich a com-mitment. "Whatever made you do it? .How can you live that way?" she often asked; For her, a celibate way of, life seemed .almost unthinkable. And yet, before she left the hospital, she very spontaneously admitted that she had grown to feel comfortable with me, remarking that I was "OK." The attitude of my new-found friend regarding celibacy reflects the thinking of a culture which extols sexual pleasure andgratification. We need only.listen to TV commercials, look at paperback racks in the local book-stores, or glance through the newspaper movie listings to become aware of the sexual orientation of our culture, Or, we need only listdn to teenagers speak of sexuality to realize that sexual morality has changed drastically in recent years. Within this cultural context, celibacy is frowned upon and looked down upon as an impossible and repressive way of life because for many, sexual pleasure and gratification have, to some extent, taken on an absolute character. Sexuality and sexual pleasure in themselves are sacred values, willed .by God from the time of creation. Simply.sacrificing these values in. and for itself for no deeper value, does indeed lead to a repressive way of life. How-ever, viewed within the context of one's personal love-relationship with God, celibate living'takes on deeper meaning and dynamism. As my Lord becomes central in my life, he becomes the hidden trea-sure and the pearl of great price for whom I am willing to give. my whole life, all that I 'am and all that I have. As Paul tells us: aln The Vowed Li/e, va~ Kaam maintains that the attitudes of celibacy, poverty and obedience comprise the fundamental threefoldO path of human and spiritual unfolding. He sees these human attitudes already foreshadowed in the highest forms of animal life. All human persons, regardless of their life form, are called to live out these attitudes according to the specific demands of their concrete life situation. Vowed relig!ous, he says, are called to be living witnesses for the threefold path of self-unfolding. They profess to find the beginning and end of this threefold presence in Gdd. See Adrian van Kaam~ The Vowed Life (Denville, NJ: Dimension Books, 1968), pp: 11-74. 35'8 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Those things I used to consider gain, I "liave now reappraised as loss in the light: of the surpassing knpwledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake, I have forfeited everything; I have accounted all els~ rubbish so that Christ may be'my wealth and 1 may bein him" (Ph 3:7-9). To us, who ifi recent years; have placed much emphasis on human develop-ment and on the person, these words sound strong and absolute, demand-ing and without compromise. They may even turn us off. Yet, the challenge of the gospel, of Christianiiy, of vowed living is that over a lifetime, Christ become so central in my life, so real for me, that my human life and human values take their rightful place in light of him. Thus, the human value of the pleasure of a needy self-centered love is transcended by my total love for my Lord. He becomes the.companion of.,.my life, him in whom I live and 'move and have my being. In the exp.erience of his love, I grow in love for the human person that I am, a person with human potential and short-comings; a person entrusted with talents that I am called to own as mine and use for his love; a per~son graced with the loving presence of Father, Son and Sl~irit through the'.:gift ef baptism; a person so much in love with my Lord, that I too can willingly boast of my weaknesses, for I know and believe that his power is living and active within me (see 2 Co 12:9). Within the experience 9f God's personal love for me, I grow in self-love and self-acceptance. At the same time, I grow in respect and accept-ance of other~, the sisters I live with, the. persons I work with, those who enter into my life each day-s-loving them as they are, and allowing them to be who they are, different from me. Gradually, over a life-time, his love for me and mine for him free.;me, to some extent, from the subtle manipula-tion of using 'others for my"self-interests, or of trying to make others into my own image, and likeness. My love relationship with my Lord opens me gradually to the beauty of the other lying beneath the surface of appear-ances and behavior. In his love, I learn to transcend my own needs,"and begin to let go of my narrow labeling tendencies so as to allow the other to unfold as the unique person he or she is. Thus my celibate love fosters life within myself as well as within others. My love relationship with Christ makes me aware of his love .for others also. I do not seek to cling in a needy way to others, for ultimately, they, too, belong to God. Rather, rooted in his loxie, my love for others calls forth what is best in them. Celibate love cannot beqived in a vacuum. The deep and real sacrifice of the human love of marr!age and of a family must not turn me in on myself in a sterile, self-centered way. Rather, my capacity for love and inti-macy must gradually blossom forth in a deepening of my love for God, in the warmth and intimacy of human friendship, in the tenderness,of a love that moves outward to those with whom I live, and reaches out daily to those persons the Eoi-d allows to enter into my life, my co-workers, my stu-dents, patients or clients. R~ither than repress my human capacity for love, then, celibate love, vowed fc~r the sake of the deeper love of my Lord, frees Reflections on Vowed Living / 359 me .to spread his love warmly, tenderly, and generously, simply by being who I am and living what I am--a celibate lover/ ~ Furthermore, because I am human flesh and blood with needs, desires and passions, I may experience, at various periods in my life, and'with varying intensity, the overwhelming need for sensual satisfaction and gratifi- ¯ cation. At other times, I may experience the deep suffering of human alone-ness and of loneliness. To deny or repress any of these feelings leads only to deeper pain and suffering. Rather, I need to face my feelings, own them as .mine, and 'realize that they too are part of my being human. During .these, painful mon~ents, a living faith in my Lord's love for me, often concretized' in the love and concern of a supportive community or of a friend, may be the only means of transcending my suffering. Each encounter with my hu-~ man poverty and vulnerability becomes a renewed opportunity for strength-ening my love for my Lord as well as for other persons he places on my path to comfort and support ~me. Gradually, over a life-time, I learn to turn to him, relying on his strength and his power, aware that "when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12: 10). Poverty.~ A sister friend of mine~recently graduated from college. Shortly before graduation, as she and her classmates were busily writing r6sum6s and look-ing into various job opportunities, she was approached by Rome of her friends. "What happens to your salary? Do you get.to keep the money you make?" ~ They - seemed somewhat puzzled as Sister explained to them that she turned her salary in to the community. "You mean ,you can't keep what you earn?" they replied with a kind of disbelief. Their attitude is characteris-tic of another trend within our culture. For many Americans, material wealth and possessions h~ve become important status symbols. We need only listen to various individuals speak of wanting a higher salary, of moving into a larger, more impressive home, or of buying a more expensive car, to realize that personal identity and prestige are often dependent upon one's income bracket. Everyone, rich and poor alike, is engaged in the struggle for survival, for more money and more possessions~ Part of the American dream consists in the belief that if.'one, earns enough money and. eventually works his way to the top, he will be blessed with perfect h.apptness. For many contempor~try Ameri-cans, acquiring wealth and~ possessions has become an ultimate value. 4Hinnebusch describes love as f611ows: "To Io~,e is to go out of myself as the center of interest, and to make'.the loved one the focus of attention." Paul Hinnebusch, Corn- " munity in the Lord (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1975), p. 23.~This is the kind of self-giving attitude fostered by g~nuine celibate love. ¯ ~For a more extensive development of poverty as total dependences on God, see Johannes B. Metz, Poverty o[ Spirit, trans. John Drury (Paramtis, NJ: Paulist Press, 1968). 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Within this competitive materialistic culture, men and women religious vow to live poverty--not for its own sake, for poverty in and for itself is not a value to be encouraged. Rather, religious poverty becomes meaning-ful only in and through one's personal love relationship with the Lord. As I grow in the ispiritual attitude of vowed poverty, I become increasingly aware that God's love for me is so deep and so complete that he emptied himself totally'~of his equality with God, and took the form of a slave, be-coming one ofous, subjecting himself to the limitations of the human, condi-tion (see Ph 2:5-11). Once again, I find myself caught up in the mystery of my Lord's love, a love that has seduced and captured me. Only if I am truly in love with my God, rich in him, can I, in turn, gradually empty my-self of myself ~nd of material possessions. As my love relationship with him becomes central in my life, the human value of possession becomes subordi-nated to this: love, and takes its rightful place in my life. In the strength of his love, I am able .to let go, gradually, of my possessive attitude, no longer al-lowing myself to cling possessively to things such as clothing, money, food, the latest fad, machines, the community car, my own ideas, opinions, views, and.more. I recognize the need for possessions: for money, clothing, food, machines, as my friend recognized the need to earn a salary. Likewise, I recognize the need to have certain ideas, views, and opinions. But because I care so much for God, I care also for this world--for our world. Our love for one another frees me to use.things respectfully rather than possessively, with the detached attitude that allows things to be as they are, rather than with the grasping, and clinging attitude of hoarding, or of the' stubborn attitude that "my way is the right one.'''~ As my love for my Lord grows, I gradually learn to see myself in my rightful place as a.limited human creature. Through the eyes of a living~ faith, I begin to realize that my views, my opinions, my ways of doing things may be good and right for me, but remain relative for other members of the community as well as for those with whom I work. As iI become rich in the one thing necessary, the love of my Lord, the self-emptying of poverty helps me to transcend my need to totalize and absolutize. In light of my Lord's living and active presence in the cultural-historical situation of the world, I ~radually begin to distance myself from my views, values and ma-terial possessions. They are important to me at this time in my life, but they also are relative, even for myself. For if I remain flexibly open to the un, folding of my life situation, the values, principles and opinions that seem absolute for me today may be less important to me in a few years. For ex-ample, perhaps a few years ago, I was on the "band wagon~' for total, open-ness in community. At the time, openness seemed to be ~an ultimate value for community living, With time and experience, I may have come to see that openness is indeed important, but every member of the community is '~van Kaam, The Vowed Li]e, pp. 176-186. Reflections on Vowed Living / 361 not capable of the same level of openness. Consequently, the value of open-ness which at one time seemed ultimate for me, has become modified by the emergence-for-me of the deeper value of respect for the other. Through a continual self-emptying attitude, I gradually learn to let go of my opinions and views in order to become more open to the Spirit of my Lord as he expresses himself through the differing values and opinions of others, as well as through the unfolding of history. My love for my Lord enables me to learn to flow with life, expecting little, and accepting whatever comes, as it comes, rather than rigidly and possessively trying to control my" life. For, in love, I gradually come to realize that ultimately, I do not control my life; it i.s in the hands of a Father-God who loves me dearly and cares for me tenderly. Furthermore, the self-emptying of poverty viewed within the context of love, may prompt me to give myself' away through giving my time, through allowing persons and their needs'to take priority over things. In an individualistic culture .in which my life is often run by a time-clock, per-haps I have lost the art of sharing my time with others, of giving my time away for the sake of others. In silent reflection before my Lord, I gradu-ally discover how much of my time I can realistically give away, for the demands of my own life make it impossible for me to be totally available to others. While the self-emptying of poverty may at times demand that I give myself selflessly to others, this same self-emptying may at other times .require that I refuse a request, because of my personal obligations or simply because I need the time to restore myself both physically and mentally. The essence of the spirit of poverty is. that~I grow gradually into the lived realization that my life is in the hands of my Lord. In love, he .has created me. In love, he continues each day to sustain me. My love for him in turn, prompts me to empty myself of myself and slowly to detach myself from material possessions in order to create the inner space in which I may become ever more sensitive and responsive to the whispers of. his love in my daily life. The pain of self-denial and of daily dying to my self-centeredness is very real, and at times, may be overwhelming. At such moments, I need to remind myself that my Lord'~ love for me led him to the cross, the ulti-mate experience of detachment .and of self-emptying:Just as his love for his Father and for me enabled him to transcend his natural repugnance for suf-fering,? so too, my love forhim strengthens me to follow my Lord along the way of the cross, that through the pain of self-emptying, I may be glorified by an ever deeper share in his life (see Ph 2:5-11 ). Obedience A further reflection on our contemporary culture leads us to realize that the value of power, also, is highly esteemed. All of us, at some time or another, fantasize having some kind of power. Perhaps during my school years, I dreamed of being class president or president of the student council. 362 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Or perhaps during my early years in religious life, 1 dreamed of one day being house assistant or local superior. Or;again, since ~those structures of-ten no .longer exist, perhaps my dreams are now directed toward being school principal, or head nurse, ot an influential member of tt]e parish team. What-ever my fantasy or my dream, chances are that some aspect of it is related to my drive for power. ,. Often implicit in this climb to the top of the social ladder is having power,over other human ~.persons, as well ashaving the power to make im-portant decisions. In fact, our world civilization seems to be based on a power struggle between the free world and communism. ., This power stru(:ture has .implications for ~the life of every human per-son: we often feel overpowered by technology, by the intricacies of big government and big business, by large ,agencies :that seem to control some facet of our lives, and before which we feel helpless. In turn, each of us to some degree seeks to react against, these overwhelming powers by asserting our own power within.:our small domain, be it in our limited ability to say "yes" or ,no" to issues pertaining to our personal life and work. Power in itself is to be valued, for without some degree of power, I ab-dicate the gift of my :human freedom, as well as human responsibility. How- ~everi power becomes detrimental when other human persons become ob-jects of my . personal project and desires. Then my power infringes upon their human freedom, and can become a destructive force. When this hap-pens, power, becofiaes an ultimate value for me, one by which I hope to gain some prestige and security, thereby repressing my own inner insecurity. '~ Religious men and women who vow obedience within our power-oriented world are reminders that human power, like the values of pleasure and possession, is not an ultimate value; that in light of my personal love relationship with my Lord, power is relative. For to be seduced by God means that ! allow him to have power over me. It implies that I grow in my ability to become attentive to his will, and become increasingly sensitive to his demands and desires. Our' love relationship assures me of his con-stant care and concern for me, In the security of his love, I discover the space to grow in the awareness that what he asks of me through the 'persons, events and situationg that enter into my life each day, is the concretization of his will for me at this time in my life,r Just as he speaks to me through~these realities that exist outsid ,myself, so too, he speaks through the reality that I myself am. His presence can be discovered in and through my possibilities and my limits, my desires and ¯ ambitions, my physical and emotional strengths and weaknesses. All that ¯ I am is my Lord's gift to me, a gift through which he speaks his word. Paul tells us that our deepest self is hidden in Christ, Part of our 10ve-re- ':For a further development of obedience as listening, refer to van Kaam, The VoCved LiIe; pp.'q57-169. '- Reflections on Vowed l,iving / 363 lationship then, demands that I be true to that deephst self, created in the image and likeness of .my Lord himself. To obey my deepest self, to submit myself to other persons, to events and situations demands a love so strong, that I am willing to empty myself of my desire, for total power over my own life, to accept in loving faith, that my Lord does indeed reveal himself through other creatures. In such a love, I can'.gradually loosen my grip on my own life, and slowly begin to listen more openly to persons, events, situations, both within my community and within the culture, as messengers of his divine will for me. In this loving openness, I am gradually freed from a slavish attachment to my feelings, my views, my opinions, my ideas, because I allow myself to be enriched by those of others. Recognizing the presence of my Lord in and through persons and events outside myself is difficult and challenging. For unconsciously, I tend to be-lieve that I know what is best for me. I tend to believe that what 1 know to be best for me is the concrete expression of the Lord's will in my life. How can otherpersons, each limited as I am, reveal to me anything of God's will? Such thoughts gradually close me in on my own thinking, my own ideas and opinions, somewhat like a snail closed-in in its shell. Uncon-sciously, I make myself like God, giving myself ultimate power over my life. Only in love can I gradually transcend my self-centered God-like atti-tude, and slowly begin to recognize my Lord's will for me as expressed in and through all of creation persons, events, situations.and things. In love, I discover the strehgth to die daily to my own will, in order to allbw my Lord's will to live and to be express~ed in and th.rough the limited human person that I am. Thus, every person who enters into my life, as well as everything that happens in my life becomes an integral part of my~ personal sacred history with my Lord. Conclusion ¯ A~' I reflect upon vowed living within the context of my personal love relationship with God, I can begin to see my vows as gifts which invite me to a continual deepening of this love relationship. For no longer is God a distant Spirit imposing upon me the obligations of the vows; rather, He be-comes Someone for me, someone real and personal inviting me to an ever ,deeper intimacy with °him through the sacred bond of my vows. As this intimacY deepens, I grow in the awareness of my need for him. I cannot live my vows on my own strength; I need to rely on his power. Paul tells us that "We possess this treasure in earthen vessels, to make it clear that its surpassing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). In hu-man terms, my vowed life makes no sensi~; it is foolishness in the eyes of men. Moreover, on the human levd alone, ].am unable to live such a way of life. It is delicate, fragile and vulnerable; ever exposed to the opposition of my own human nature and of controversial forces in our world. 364 / Review ]or Religious, I/olume 36, 1977/3 Living my vows becomes possible only through the centrality of my per: sonal love relationship with my Lord. In that love, I am graced with the strengtl~ and power, to re~spond to his constant invitation to enter into the self-emptying process. Our Lord is a jealous God who wants to possess me totally. He promises in return, to fill my emptiness with his loving presence. Each call to self-emptying is an invitation to die to some aspect of my old ~self; my needy self, constantly in search of the security of human power, pleasure and possession. However, this death is but a means of leading me to a life of deeper intimacy with him. It is a death c.alling me constantly to the new and deeper freedom of love. Each day of my life, he seduces me, calling me t6 a.morb personal" rela-tionship with him. Each day of my life, I must allow myself to be seduced-- to give him love for love, relying on his strength and his power. This call is a daily challenge, the challenge of living my "yes" to him. Am I willing to follow him all the way; ever open to i:laily situations as so many con-crete opportunities .for deepening my love through consecrated celibate .love, through self-emptying poverty and through freeing obedience? Now Available As A Reprint, ¯ Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories with Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Address: Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Toward Further Self-Definition William F, Hogan, C.S~C. Father Hogan is an Assistant General and General Procurator of his congregation'. His last article in these pages, "Communily Reconsidered," appeared in the September; 1976 issue. He resides Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma, Italy. In' Per]ectae Caritatis the Fathers of Vatican II told us that it serves the best interests of the (~hur~h for religious institutes to have their own special character.and purpose. Thus, the spirit of founders and all the particular goals and traditions that constitute the patrimony of each religious institute should be recognized and safeguarded (See 'PC 2,,b). This statement oc-casioned a flurry of activity in some religious communities to start research-ing their traditions to ,.confirm again the self-definition of each community, and to stir up interest in the spirit of their founders. In many instances this activity has bo~ne fruit in that the religious have been put more'clearly in touch with their particular roots and have slowly effected,some changes of direction in their life and apostolic stance. In other institutes, the spurt of renewed interest subsided almost as fast as it. began, especially in those congregations in which nothing particularly unique seemed to stand out. The call to discover the uniqueness of one's heritage is being reasserte~i in the proposed new text of the law for instittitesof the consecrated,life; for those who have framed the proposed text have taken very seriously the mandate of Vatican II about' preserving,the patrimony of each religious in-stitute. Instead of drawing up legislation to cove'r all the points on religious life in a uniform way, as th( present law in. good part does, they are pro-posing general principles of Jaw within which each institute is to draw up its particular norms in accordance with its own traditions. By taking such a direction, the new law, if it be approved,, will be inviting and requiring of religious greater efforts at community self-understanding and self-definition. In order to meet this demand, it will be necessary for members of religious 365 366 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 institutes, and in particular members of general chapters, to develop a re-fined awareness of the founder's charism, the continuing charisms of the congregation as expressed into traditions and in its spiritual and apostolic heritage, a clear sense of where the institute has been in the past, where it is in the present and where the legacy of the founder and the traditions of the community are pointing for the future. That there is still a widespread need for further self-understanding and self-definition is becoming apparent from the various interim constitutions and position papers of religious institutes. Prior to the decree on renewal of religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, August 6, 1966) and the directive to revise constitutions, the legislation of religious institutes had a remarkable sameness because constitutions had to conform to the ~Norms of 1901 and the subsequent rules of the Sacred Congregation, promulgated in 1921, which, had to be followed in seeking approbation for the texts of new constitutions. Today a new similarity is emerging, although it bears little resemblance to the primarily legal approach of the pre-sixties. The present-day "sameness of texts" appears to be rooted~in the fact that religious in-stitutes have followed the" lead of the council and gone back to the gospel roots of religious !ife, t0_us considering it as flowing out of the baptismal commitment. As -a result of this important emphasis on religious life in the context of the gospei and of bap~tism, underscoring, as it does, the.thorough-ly Christian nature of religious life, frequently the same scriptural and conciliar texts are cited. And in the process of situating the religious insti-tute in its proper ecclesial and Christian context,.little, or at least, insufficient stress,,~.is placed 6n those particular ways in which the founder wished to emphasize the gospel message and on those facets of. the Christ-life revealed through the Spirit's activity in his or her life and mission. Generally speak-ing, all religious have~'been very conscious of the need to express religious life in terms of a broad ecclesial vision and to avoid any instances of the exaggerated c~ngregationai emphasis~that may have closed them in on them-selves in the past. But in meeting, this issue, they may be.losing sight of that part of their contribution to the life of the Church which consists in positively developing their particular heritage. There is ~no reason why there cannot be harmony and balance between .the ecclesial and the peculiarly congregational elements, and thus a clearer understanding of the role of a particular .religious institute in the Church. For some religious institutes it may be rather difficult to grasp the unique-ness of their heritage, especially if they have been founded since the 1800's, when many congregations came to birth under the ~inspiration of. the Spirit ¯ to meet particular needs in some specific geographic area, and have pat-terned themselves on-other, already existi.ng congregations. But even in such instances, there.may well exist a uniqueness of insight and emphasis fr6m the founder, the early members and the riches that have accumulated~from the various religious over the years--spiritual, intellectual, apostolic riches that Toward Further Sel[-Definition / 367 constitute the legacy, of the congregation. It is these factors that will have to be borne in mind in delineating the norms of law for the congregation' today, and that will yiel'd the necessary self-understanding of the religious institute. Religiou,s today often have recalled in liturgies or at congregational gatherings concerned with community and plurality the celebrated text from the_ first epistle to the Corinthians: There are different gifts but the same Spirit: there are different °ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given , ~ for the common good . . . (I Co 12:4ff,). And similarly from Ephesians: ~And his gifts were that some should be apogtles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers in roles of service for the faithful to build up, the body of Christ. till we become one in faith and in the knowl-edge of God's Son, and form that perfect man who is Christ come to lull stature (Ep 4:11-13). The't~exts in themselves obviously speak of individual gifts of the Spirit to the Church; but in the modern context they can well'remind us of the diversity of gifts and charisms within the categories of the traditional gifts in the Church. If religious life itself is a gift of the Spirit to the Church, as the Church teaches, then even more precisely is the religious life of a particular institute a special gift of the Spirit to the Church for the building up of the Church. And the religious of the institute should seek to fathom the gift in all its particular aspects. The° gifts of diverse religious institutes to the Church reflect the many-faceted splendor of the Father's love for his peo-ple. Our response to that love should reflect the facets of that love as these are particularized in our institutes and their heritage.- To continue to reflect on and search out the heritage'of a religious in-stitute demands the continued expenditure of psychological energy. Yet many religious are tired of devoting their energies~this way, especially in view of the crying needs of mankind ~hom they are called to serve. The self-definition and self-understanding being requested of them may no longer be seen as a value worth pursuing. It cannot be denied that there are many demands on religious today, and they must~become ~selective in which de-mands they will meet. But in developihg personal and ~ollective criteria for responding to demands, religious must not forget.that the time and effort spent in self-understanding and self-definition is~ultimatelyfor the sake of greater and more meaningful service to others and for the building up of the life of the Church. The deeper the unde.rstand!ng of the call of the Spirit .,to the founder and those who have come after him, the deeper and more intense could be the response. And the growth in appreciation of the gift Of the Spirit that is a particular religious institute contributes to growth in wonder and appreciation of the gift that is Church. 368 / Review Jor Religious, Volume "36, 1977/3 . If the proposed direction of the new law for institutes of the conse-crated life is adopted in the Church, religious could be the richer spiritually for what it will necessitate in terms of further self-definition. But if the easier, more .comfortable path is followed of just latching on to that which is familiar, without serious examination of roots and traditibns, then the opportunity for seizing onto the uniqueness of God's gift of the particular institute will be lost. Every religious group was called into being because of a unique need in 'the Church. The continuance and growth of'institutes is suppo~sed to be .in terms of their umque contributions to the life of the Church and the world. This uniqueness is born of the special love of God for the founder and those who have succeeded the founder with the passage of time, all unique persons, who, in sharing life and ministry together, should be creating a unique response to God, the Church and the world. We need to know exactly where our insl, itutes are "new" in terms of this uniqueness, how we have arrived at this point through our traditions and history, and the best steps to promote ot~r response within a thoroughly Christian and ec-clesial religious life for the future. The Church's renewed call to the dis-covery of uniqueness deserves a serious answer if we value the gifts of God that are our institutes. ~ The Pregnancy The cloistered life within her sends the fire that burns her cheek-- Nature's proud assertion; Life's excited'glow; The insuppressible, open declaration Of yesterday's.creation and tomorrow's warm embrace. A compliant constitution accommodates her child--~ Time's prodigy care~ering toward release From cell to self so he may show his face And state in gurgled language instinctive gratitude. Never more important or more vital to another; ~ Linked by blood and substance in protracted intimacy O~f singular and enviable duration-- A high point in the human testament of love. A legacy for embattled man to learn from-- Acceptance, peace, surrender of one's self, Belief'in time hnd patience that reveals The unfathomable restoration of life's fragments in a soul. Donald DeMarco St. Jerome's College Waterloo, Ontario N2L _3G3 Canada Chapter Delegate" Qualities and R esponsi bi I iti es Robert Morneau Father Morneau is an Instructor of Philosophy at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ The significance of general chapters of religious communities cannot be overstressed. The responsibility of providing and sustaining a vision, the challenge to be true to the gospel while preserving the uniqueness of the community's special charism, the mandate to read the signs of the times and yet have a universal sensitivity, all demand diligent work and competent deliberators. This article is an attempt to describe some of the qualifies in-herently crucial to the fulfillment of the above challenges and to specify areas of responsibility following upon election as a delegate to a general chapter. Essentially what is being offered is a job description, a delineation ot~ the functions of a trusted steward, The thesis of this article is that a chapter delegate is called to be a dialogical person, a prophetic person, and a wounded healer.' / Delegate: A Dialogical Person God our Father is a God of revelation. In the precious mystery of his grace, he has chosen to reveal himself and his gracious love to mankind. Throughout history God .has communicated with his people, calling all crea-tion to life and fidelity. As a diaiogical God, he longs to speak his love and forgiveness; he searches out those who will listen and respond to his word. ~The image of wounded healer is taken from Henri J. M. Nouwen's book by the same title. 369 370 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 God has spoken and told us where he is and who he is. We are called to imitate our Father: "Try, then, to imitate God, as children of his that he loves. " (Ep 5: ! ); we do this from one perspective by becoming dialogi-cal persons. Our model is the Father who shares himself with us in word and sacrament. The qualities of a dialogicai person are many; we will limit our con-sideration to three essential attitudes that must be present if authentic com-munication is to happen. The first and perhaps most difficult quality of a dialogical person is listening. Monologues are terribly common in life; empty, one-sided discourses in which no one is listening and probably no one is thinking. Dialogue demands attentive listening, feeling behind the words into the reality being expressed. This type of listening is concerned not with simple, audible comprehension but with a compassionate desire to enter into the world of the speaker to see what has been seen, to hear what has been given. An example of this sensitive listening can be found in Tolstoy's classic War and Peace: He told of these adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that he was tell-ing it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which a man has when women listen to him--not clever women who when listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own clever comments prepared in their own little mental workshop--but the pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing it was all attention: she did not lose a word, not a single quiver in Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a single gesture. ~ She caught the unfinished word in its flight and took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of all Pierre's mental travail.'-' If a delegate is to truly listen, there must be some degree of interior silence.Turning off the inner engines is difficult and demands discipline, yet so necessary if the message is to be understood and the feelings are to o be appreciated. C. S. Lewis expressed well our dilemma: "Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement.":' To obtain this silence we must deal with our own fears, insecurities and prejudices. These tendencies block lis-tening, put us into the land of defensiveness and create a sense of being threatened. Secure in our forts, with drawbridge raised and the moat filled with crocodiles, we protect ourselves from new ideas, visions and possibili-ties. Again C. S. Lewis drives home the point: "He could never empty, or silence, his own mind to make room for an alien thought.''~ A chapter dele- "Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, tr. by Louise and Aylmer Maude. (New York, 1942), p. 1241. By permission of the Oxford University Press. :'C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (New York, 1944), p. 140. 4C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York, 1955), p. 184. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 371 gate must listen and discern. Electing a nondialogical person to a chapter is like inviting a deaf person to a concert or taking someone who is blind to an art museum. Neither experience nor growth is possible if essential capaci-ties are lacking~ Listening is essential to dialogue. A second quality of a dialogical person is trust. In an essay written in 1952, Martin Buber stated: "But here is an essential presupposition for all this dialogue: it is necessary to overcome the massive distrust in others and also that in ourselves.''~ If Buber's observation is correct, and there seems to be sufficient evidence to,verify his reflection, we have a lot of growing to do. We must reestablish trust in others and in ourselves. H~opefully, we will gr~aund our trust on the theological fact that God has faith and trust in us. He has given us freedom and intelligence, blessed us with insight and grace. We are his stewards entrusted to do his work in our times. Sensing this, a delegate must come to a radical trust in his own personal insight and conviction. This trust must then be extended to others who are also on the journey searching for truth and goodness. Nothing breaks down communica-tion so quickly as distrust; it hardly pays to initiate a discussion unless there is a solid degree of self-confidence and a climate of confidence in others. Buber, quoting Robert Hutchins, writes: "The essence of the Civiliza-tion of the Dialogue is communication. This presupposes mutual respect and understanding, it does not presuppose agreement.'"; Our trust in self and others must be supplemented with respect and the ability to understand. It would be profitable for delegates to spend some time critically reading Emerson's essay "Self-Reliance" and Howe's The Miracle o[ Dialogue. Desire ]or truth is a third quality of the dialogical person. A longing for insight and perspective characterizes the mind and heart of a truth-seeker. Like an ink blotter, this type of person quickly and completely absorbs truth wherever it presents 'itself. Desire for truth means being in contact with facts (hard data). There is no excuse for ignorance; the homework must be done. Besides researching and interpreting facts, truth demands contact with basic principles, those patterns of meanings which explain and eluci-date reality. Experience and reflection are prerequisites here. Besides dealing with facts and principles, desire for truth calls for the basic disposition mani-festing a willingness to change and grow. Regardless of who speaks a "pagan" philosopher, a formed provincial, a member in one's local commur nity, a poet--the searcher for truth listens and evaluates. So often God is speaking through these and other historical channels. If the search is honest, change will be demanded; certain, pet ~:ategories will be dropped and new ones added (e.g., collegiality) ; treasured prejudices must be let go and open-ness of mind fostered; static, rigid formulations must be reexamined in the :'Martin Buber, "Hope for This Hour;" quoted in Maurice S. Friedman, ed., Pointing the Way (New York, 1974), p. 222. ~;ibid., p. 222. 372 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 light of new research and insight. The process is painful and not without its victims but this is the price of honest discipleship. If a chapter delegate is called to imitate God by being a dialogical per-son characterized by attentive listeniiag, deep trust and a desire for truth, several responsibilities automatically arise. (1) A chapter delegate must be available to the people he represents. The thinking, feeling and life-style of his ~onstituency must be familiar material to the delegate. The duty of being available is not without its price: time and energy, precious and limited commodities, must be sacrificed in fulfilling this obligation. (2) A chapter delegate must be able to make distinctions. Meriol Trevor, in her biography of Cardinal Newman, wrote concerning Ft. Faber: "He would never dis-tinguish between disapproval and dislike; he himself always spoke of hating people who disagreed with him and he could not believe others were differ-ent.'' r This type of person should not be allow~id to be in the arena of policy making. One must be able to know and experience the difference between understanding and agreeing, between a person and an issue, between an idea and its emotive force. Chapters in which such distinctions are consistently made result in community growth and peace. (3) A chapter delegate must be willing to speak during the chapter proceedings. Some eloquent (and not so eloquent) discourses on stairways and in other private areas would be more profitably shared with the. entire group. There 'is no excuse for devastating criticisms made outside the halls of the chapter room and silence reigning within. As a general principle no one should say outside of chapter what he is not willing to say to the whole group. A delegate is mandated to speak out, to take a stance, to express points of view. If this is done with respect and in the spirit of truth, there should be tittle to fear. Merton's insight is helpful: "Ignorance is the parent of fear.''~ Our talk should flow from our study and reflection on life. Delegate: A Prophetic Person Jesus was a prophet. The study of Scripture verifies this fact and. further points out that throughout the Old Testament the Father sent prophets on special missions. Jesus' mission was unique and yet contained the basic in-gredients of those who preceded him: to reveal who the Father was and also to provide the means whereby people might return to the Father. Like Christ, the chapter delegate is missioned. This "being sent" comes through the community and the task flowing from this mission resembles that of all the prophets. The booklet Spiritual Renewal o[ the American Priesthood describes the prophet in these terms: The prophet's function was to perceive the presence or absence of God in situations and to point out the consequences of that presence or absence. A 7Meriol Trevor, Newman: Light in Winter (New York, 1963), p. 86. ,'Sotlrce unknown. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 373 prophet had to know contemporary issues, but even more, he had to be sensi-tive to the mind and will of God.:' In the context of this prophetic role, certain traits clearly emerge that would characterize a chapter delegate. The first of these is sensitivity. This sensitivity must embrace the three sectors of time: the past with its treasures and cultural limitations, the present with its high ideals and ambiguous facts, the future with its plans and realistic hopes. It is possible and often happens in life that we eat but do not taste, read but do not comprehend, listen but do not hear. Historical insensitivity cannot be excused; we must be in touch with our roots and our traditions. Unless carefully nurtured, this sensitivity can be lost. Sensitivity demands that we perceive what is happen- .ing here and now; that we enter in or are caught up by the present moment. This is not just a cognitive apprehension, since it necessarily includes an affective involvement~ The future will be basically meaningless if we do not avoid the tragedy of lost sensitivity written of by Hopkins: Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wear man's smudge and shares man's smell; the soul ls bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.~° It is time once again to take off our shoes/' to be sensitive to our world, to our people, to our deepest self. A sense of reverence, awe and wonder is much needed in our merry-go-round world. Prophets are, of necessity, courageous people. If Emerson is correct in saying that "God will not make himself manifest to cowards,''r-' then the V~rtue of fortitude takes on added importance in fostering the kingdom. Among the courageous people in history, St. Paul has been honored in a special way: ¯ . . But the big courage is the cold-blooded kind, the kind that never lets go even when you're feeling empty inside, and your blood's thin, and there's no kind of fun or profit to be had, and the trouble's not over in an hour or two but lasts for months and years. One of the men here was speaking about that kind, and he called it 'Fortitude.' I reckon fortitude's the biggest thing a man can have--just to go on enduring when there's no guts or heart left in you. Billy h~id' it when he trekked solitary from. Garungoze to the Limpogo with ~This booklet, edited by Gerard Broccolo and Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., was pub-lished in 1973 by the Publications Office of the United States Catholic Conference ( 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., WashingtoniDC 20005). ~'~Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God's Grandeur." ~V'Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries." Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh." I~Ra!ph Waldo Emerson, "The Over-Soul." 374 / Review lot Religious, ~'olume 36, 1977/3 fever and a broken arm just to show the Portugooses that he wouldn't be downed by them.,But the head man at the job was the Apostle Paul . 1:~ Courage helps us to deal,with two tendencies that permeate human existence: the tendency to fear the unknown and the drive to flee spontaneously from any object of danger. "Fright and flight"14 can block us from experiencing reality to its fullest. Courage enables us ~to stand firm and fight when the situation calls for this type of response; courage enables us to die to our-s~ lves for the sake of life. A delegate, knowing well what happens to most prophets in history, will have to face many dangers and crosses. At times his courage will manifest itself in patient endurance (the most difficult type of courage), while at other times he will be called upon to pounce on evil.1'~ Whatever is not compatible with the gospel must be courageously ques-tioned; whatever is antihuman or subhuman must be diligently removed. Living courage is a great boon to the entire community, not just to the in-dividual exercising that gift. A third trait of the prophetic person, exemplified so clearly in the life of Jesus, is that of vision. A delegate is called upon to have a perspective of what religious life is, to be able to situate in their context contemporary. issues, to sense the interrelationship among such things as prayer, asceticism and the apostolate. The blind cannot lead; only a person with vision can point the way. If a guide has not been to a given territory or if he loses the map which would get him there by carefully reading, he is no longer an asset to the group which relies on him. The delegate without vision con-tributes little in the attempt to provide meaning and direction for the com-munity. Two dangers have always plagued a healthy perspective: myopia and ignorance. The first danger allows one to see, but only to the end of one's nose--not a terribly helpful overview. Ignorance, th~ second danger, can only result in a valley experience even though the voice of the ignorant leader be forceful, and filled with an apparent self-confidence. A number of responsibilities become obligatory for the prophetic dele-gate. (1) A chapter delegate must be informed. Study and researizh will be as necessary and as natural as breathing for such a person. There is no excuse for not being aware of contemporary issues, the movements of our present culture, the meaning and influence of history. The presence or absence of information is relatively easy to detect. (2) If a person is to.be attuned to the mind and heart of God, prayer is necessary. Special emphasis should be placed on scriptural prayer since it is God's word which illuminates our understanding of contemporary issues. If the porters at the chapter doors should bar the uninformed, they should be twice as diligent in barring l:~John Buchan, Mr. Stead[ast; quoted in C. H. Dodd, The Meaning o[ Paul/or Today (London, 1920), p. 7. ~4Rev. Kevin O'Shea, "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Li]e, Spring, 1975. ~sSee the. excellent Thomistic treatment of the virtue of fortitude in Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (Notre Dame, 1966), pp. 117-141. ,Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 375 a person who does not pray faithfully. (3) A chapter delegate should be a person of decision. Newman in his Apologia Pro Vita Sua states: "Certitude is a reflex action; it is to,know that one knows.""; Study and prayer should lead us to this type of certitude which in turn enables us to make serious decisions, even though there will always be some element of risk if not doubt. Another facet in this process of decision making is the,willingness to assume responsibility for the decisions made. Indecisive and irresponsible persons should not be elected to chapters. The duties of being informed, prayerful and decisive are not acquired in a day not even a week. Yet the delegat~ should be growing in each of these areas if the community is to be served well. Delegate: A Wounded Healer Jesus promised that when he had returned to the Father he would send their Spirit. That promise has been realized in all who have come to believe in the Lord. This Spirit is leading all back to the Father through Christ; this Spirit is a Spirit of love, joy and peace. Through the Holy Spirit, heal-ing and reconciliation happens in our world today. A great vision of unity found in Pauline theology becomes a reality to the extent that people are living the life of the Spirit. Yet this vision of unity is premised on the tragic fact and acute awareness that fragmentation permeates creation. Man is divided within himself and separated from his fellow man, his God, and his world. We are a wounded pe~ople, scarred and battered by our own sins and the sins of others. "Everything God has made has a crack in it.'''r Our voca-tion is to make all one in Christ, to reconcile all creation to the Father. The gift of the Spirit dwelling in the Church and in our personal lives enables us to begin this glorious and painful task. The delegate as wounded healer is distinguishable by a sense of deep compassion. Graced with the ability to perceive things from the inside, the compassionate person has a knowledge of the heart and not just of external activity. The secret of the fox18 is undoubtedly correct: "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Compassion promotes our seeing what is truly significant;.it goes far beyond the inhuman limitations of our sensate culture. So often in Scripture, reference is made to the neces-sity of a new heart.':' God's word urges us to .grow in compassion and empathy. Insensitivity to the hurts and pains of others, even though these may be self-imposed, prevents the building of community. Compassion heals! Hopefully, every deli~gate has had the experience of being healed a6Early in his book Newmah writes, "In the first chapter of this narrative I spoke of certitude as the consequence, divinely intended and enjoined upon us, of the accumula-tive force of certain given reasons which, taken one by one, were only probabilities." lrRalph Waldo Emerson, "Compensation." lSAntoine de Saint Exupery, The Little Prince (New York, 1943). 1:'E.g., Jeremiah 31 : 31-34; Ezechiel 36:24-28. 376 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 through the heartfelt concern of others. Perhaps the task of the doctor applies to all of us: "sometimes to cure, often to alleviate, always to care.''z'' Compassion is care incarnated. The destructive force of nuclear warfare is so obvious that no on.e can deny its effects; less obvious but extremely powerful in the psychological realm is the prevalent killer called judgmentalism. A delegate must be a non~ judgmental person. This does not mean that one ceases making judgments, judgments which at times are sharp and painful. God has blessed us with reason and insight and we must ferret out the truth and the falsity of our lives and the life of the community. We cannot renege on our responsibility to find the truth and to speak it boldly. Judgmentalism, on the other hand, uses the faculty of reason but in an abusive way. Judgments are made, not on dis-cernible consequences, but on motives which cannot be verified. Evidence is wanting, yet persons are judged and insinuations are made. This type of iudgmentalism is characterized by intolerance (a demand that everyone live by my interpretation of religious life), a defensiveness and air of hostility, a lack of warmth and affability. A delegate, therefore, should have a delicate balance between tolerance of persons and intolerance of falsity; between respect for the individual and firmness in sticking to principles; between understanding the human condition and calling each other to growth. We come to realize that without the gift of the Spirit we cannot but fail in this stupendous task. Again we are helped in this area by realizing that we have been blessed in our personal histories with people who have refused to judge and condemn us, who have manifested an infinite patience in allowing us to grow through the stages of personal development. If we have been ~he object of judgmentalism, our experience should forever prevent us from venturing down that road of psychological and spiritual destructiveness. The word of God provides light for our pilgrimage. In the prophet Micah, we are challenged by the Father's woi~d: this is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.21 The call to justice, charity and faith is clear. Interestingly, spiritual love has the quality of tenderness, a-term which forcefully describes the manner in which we are to reach out to others in concern. It is possible to serve un-willingly, to meet needs because of duty, to heal out of necessity. This is neither sufficient nor healthy in an ultimate sense. God calls us to enter fully and generously into the lives of others. A tender love, a gentle con-cern, a warm respect characterize total love. Underlying this kind of love is the keen realization that human beings are terribly fragile. Indeed, "avalances gather force and crash, unheard, in men as in the mountains." "-'°America, May 1, 1976, p. 377. Paul Ramsey was quoted by the authors. '-'1Micah 6:8. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 377 People with whom we live can be breaking apart inside without our aware-ness; a tender word and radical love can heal so many lives that are on the edge.of despair. A chapter delegate would benefit from reading Fr. Kevin O'Shea, especially his article "Enigma and Tenderness.''~ The chapter delegate, a wounded healer, is challenged to fulfill certain responsibilities in this area. (1) He must ]ace the negative in self, others and the world. A recent Cartoon showed a street cleaner lifting up the edge of a sidewalk under which he swept the city's debris. No healing can take place unless we honestly and courageously face that which is destructive within life. Exploitation and manipulation are too common to be ignored; these must be searched out and dealt with in a reasonable way. (2) He should ]ace the positive in self, community and the world. Just as dangerous as the rug syndrome is the denial of or unwillingness to recognize the vast potential waiting to be actualized in creation. Leadership qualities lie fallow because of fear; intellectual skills remain untapped because of a lack of .challenge; talents stay on shelves for want of affective nutrients. "Our in-tellectual and active powers increase with our affection.'"-':' The truly great person has the vision to perceive the gifts of others~ the truly great person has disciplined productivity and shares his love and life with others. The delegate must perceive and promote the gifts and talents given by the Lord. (3) He should rejoice in life. Nothing heals so quickly as genuine humor and authentic play. Joy is one of the signs of the Spirit's presence. It flows from an awareness of God's personal love and the gift of his life. Consoling Conclusion It is eminently unfair.to demand of a single individual the. multiple qualifications listed in the foregoing pag.es. Who could possibly fulfill the following want-ad posted on the community .bulletin board? WANTED!!! 25 people who are: !) dialogicai persons --who have deep capacity to listen, trust, learn --who are available, discerning, vocal 2) prophetic persons who are --sensitive, courageous, visionary --informed, prayerful, decisive 3) wounded healers who are --compassionate, non-judgmental, tender --realistic, joyful ~20'Shea, op. cit. ~:~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship." 378 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Although applications might be filled out, no one person could qualify in every area. The first spiritual Olympics are yet to be held. Consolation comes from the fact that chapters are not made up of only one individual. Rather, they a~:e community affairs and the principle of complementarity comes inio play. What one lacks, 6thers have. The above job description is not so much one for individuals as it is for a community. Because of the blessing of pluralism, many communities could easily qualify. Tragic is the election in a community that allows a strong predominance of a single personality type. Once again, it is diversity ttiat leads to life; a di-versity grounded in concern for the kingdom. Beginnings Somewhe.re, in the night I hear you gathering pebbles for tomorrow's task.' Take care to slip a stir amidst the stones you gather; temples hold fast with dreams. Only a locust lurks in the wrinkled meadows, keeping company with the wheat that waits to be reaped by our tears. Together we will meet you at the altar when only the sound of bees will be heard preparing waxen sacrifices for your vacant vigil. Until then, I will be chanting antiphons in tune with your canticles. Sister Carole MacKenthun St. Mary Academy 250 Forest Ave., Lakewood, NI 08701 The "System" Side of Stewardship Gerald R. Amelse Mr. Amelse has been a church finance manager and consultant for sixteen years. He studied Accounting, Business Administration and Economics at The Catholic Univer-sity, the University Of Notre Dame, George Washington University and the University of Maryland. Culrently he is a partner of Calkins-Amelse Associates, which offers management services for non-profit organizations. His office is located at 4531 Pine-crest Heights Drive; Annandale, VA 22003. The widely publicized financial mishaps of several Catholic Church organi-zations in recent years have brought into question the quality of church financial management in general and of financial management in religious congregations in particular. Public attention has tended to focus on the caliber of the financial administrators and advisors involved in these cases rather than on the adequacy of the underlying systems of financial organi-zation, policies .and procedures in each instance. Responsible stewardship can result only when qualified administrators function within an appropriate financial management system. An unsound financial management system; in whole or in part, can be as inimical to responsible stewardship as unquali-fied administrators or advisors. A sound financial management system is equally important for religious congregations because of their changed environment. For several genera-tions, ~religious congregations in the United States enjoyed almost steady growth in membership, resources, activities .and facilities. Now, however, total memberships are static, if not in actual decline; new needs, such as retirem6nt, are making additional claims on already limited resources, and the maintenance of much needed apostolic acti~,itie's and institutions is be-coming increasingly more difficult. Financial management systems developed and used during previous generations may have been adequate in an era 379 380 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 of growth. The present environment, however, requires a system that will improve the ability of a congregation to meet~ increasing internal and apostolic needs with limited and declining resource potential. The exercise of responsible stewardship today calls for clear financial organization, appropriate financial policies, and sound budgeting, account-ing and reporting procedures. Church leaders should be concerned about the adequacy of' their organization's financial management system and anxious to improve it in each of the following areas: Financial Organ&ation A congregation's financial organization is the structure of its formal decision-making positions, the relationships between those positions, and the lines of their accountability. Besides the standard positions (treasurer, controller, and so forth) a congregation's financial organization should also identify the individuals responsible for specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and clearly define their respective roles, relationships and lines of accountability. Lack of clarity in a congregation's financial organi-zation can easily lead to flawed communications, loss of direction, duplica-tion of effort, and wastefulness in the exercise of responsible stewardship. Financial Policies A policy is a definite course or method of action, selected from .among alternatives and in light of given conditions, to guide and determine present and future decisions. Without a comprehensive set of clear financial policies, officials and administrators ~i'e, in effect, more or less free to make financial decisions according to their individual discretion rather than according to previously approved courses of action. The four major sources of financial policies for a religious congregation are: Church law, norms and guidelines; the congregation's own rule and constitution; formal enactments of the congregation,s governing body; and day-to-day operating decisions. It is the responsibility of the congregation's governing body, however, to have a summary of financial policies prepared and periodically to review and approve it. Budgeting The budget is a congregation's principal financial planning tool. The long-range planning aspect of a budget (i.e., two or more years') should identify the congregation's future sources" and uses of funds, project the amounts of revenue anticipated from each identified source and project the amounts of expenditures required for each identified use. The short-range aspect (i.e., month, quarter, year) should detail the estimated ex-penditures for each proposed program, project, activity and department, and itemize the specific means of financing the expenditures. Since the objective of a budget is the development of a financial plan, it The "System" Side o[ Stewardship / 381 is necessary to begin the budgeting process with information about the programs, projects, activities and departments which the congregation is planning for the coming year(s). Information on past performance is an importarit input to the budgeting process, but relying too heavily on ac-counting data and financial reports (which are historical in character) can create the danger that.a congregation's budget will reflect more what has happened in the past rather than what the congregation wants to happen in the future. Clear financial organization is essential for sound budgeting. A budget can not be completely useful as a planning tool until the individuals re-sponsible for each program, project, activity and department have been identified and their responsibility for performance against the plan and budget has been accepted by them. Furthermore, budgets that are prepared without the participation of the persons responsible for directing specific programs, projects, activities and departments are generally weak as plan-ning tools. Program, project, activity and d~epartments heads can not be expected to comprehend fully, agree with or conform to a financial plan in which they did not participate in developing. Accounting ~nd Reporting The financial statements of religious congregations are meant to provide superiors, administrators, members and other interested parties with a mean-ingful summarization of the congregation's overall financial condition as well as the operating results of its programs, projects, activities and ~depart-merits. In order to achieve this purpose more effectively, congregations should introduce both "fund" and "functional" accounting procedures into their basic accounting systems. A fund is a sum of money or other resource, set aside for a specific pur-pose acc~ording to restrictions imposed either by the intent of the donor or" by regulation of the congregation's officials~ Grants, annuities and endow-ments are examples of funds whose uses are restricted by the intent of the donor. A retirement fund is an example of money set aside for a specific purpose by regulation of the congregation's officials. The significant char-acteristic of fund accounting is that it classifies and records the financial transactions within each fund--assets, liabilities, receipts, disbursements and fund balances--according to the specified restrictions. Functional accounting records expenses according to specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and reports this information to the administrators directly responsible for these functions. This procedure im-proves expense control and also provides a practical basis for realistically evaluating the allocation and use of the congregation's limited resources. A congregation could be led' tO revamp its finanEial plans of action when confronted with financial information that enables a comparison of pro-gram, project, activity and department ~osts with their intended results. 3a2 / Review jot Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/3. oaelusion Financial organization, policies and procedures are not the only aspects of responsible stewardship. They are, nonetheless, essential elements of-sound financial management and control. Any congregation that finds its present management system to be somewhat inadequate should obtain qualified assistance to help review and strengthen it wherever necessary. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 Retirement or Vigil by B. Ashley, O.P. .30 The Confessions of Religious Women by St. M. Denis, S.O.S. 30 The Four Moments of Prayer by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 The Healing of Memories by F. Martin .35 The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat by H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 The Teaching Sister in the Church by E. Gambari, S,M.M. .30 The Thepiogy of the Eucharistic Presence by J. Galot, S~J. .30 The Vows and Christian Life by G. Greif, S.J. .30 New Reprints Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet by M. B. Pennington, O.C.S.O . 50 Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Seeks Him .30 Prayer of Personal Reminiscence by D. J. Hassel, S.J. 60 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 No. Gra

Issue 54.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for. religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP 'Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read J6an.n Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and contemporary Living MAY-JUN~ 1995 * VOLUME54 * NUMBER3 contents 326 339 353 extending horizons Multiculturalism, Internationality, and Religious Life Gerald A. Arbuckle SM presents an understanding of multiculturalism and its lived difficulties by means of case studies. Accompanying New-Age People A. Paul Dominic SJ assesses and evaluates his experience of dealing with the ideals and quest~ of the New Age movement. Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home Barbara Valuckas SSND relates her experience of three, visits to Lithuania and working with its peoples, women religious, and church catechists. 364 371 383 focusing community Community Today--Idol? Icon? Gift? Elizabeth V. Roach MM compares some of the secular criteria for community living with the gospel call to be a community of paschal living. Called to Community Dennis J. Billy CSSR presents the Trinitarian and Christological bases for life in community and identifies ten common difficulties in living the call to community. Public and Private: Some Confusion in Community Patricia Chaffee OP reviews some of the tensions and their relief in the public and private interfaces of religious community life. 389 399 rooting religious IJfe Apostolic Congregations' Monastic Roots John P. Auther_SJ suggests ways in which religious life becomes more viable in contemporary life by taking its monastic roots seriously. Women Religious: Widows of the Church, Women of Hope Anna Marie Kane SSJ draws out some comparisons of widows in the early church and women religious today. 322 Re~ie~ for Religious 4O3 A Meditation on Living the Vows Joel Giallanza CSC probes a familiar Gospel verse for its implications in living a life of celibate charity, obedience, and poverty. 410 418 424 433 growing spirituaJJy Freedom to Be God's Eric Kahn OFM suggests a style of retreat that is more fitting for the Franciscan tradition. Coming Home: The Journey Within Janet Malone CND describes various aspects of our lifelong process of moving inward to the ground of our being where God dwells in us. I Cast for Comfort GeorgeJ. Auger CSV reflects on how faith deepens in darkness and love grows in desire. Feeling and Pain and Prayer Margaret Bullitt-Jonas sketches four ways of prayer to deepen our intimacy with God and our capacity for full responsiveness to pain and io'y and being alive. 447 454 embracing heritage Heart of the Human John R. Welsh SJ explores the rich symbol of the Heart of Christ for our appreciation of the incarnation and of our own relationship to God. Enclosure: Sacramental Sign Jean Shively OSC presents her experience andunderstanding of a spirituality of enclosure as a positive and essential element of the contemplative lifestyle. 324 462 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: The Concluding Message of the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life 467 Book Reviews May-.l~une 199.q 323 many Christians the month of May evokes memories of processions and crownings and songs in honor of Mary, Mother of God. In a similar way the month of June recalls the novenas and hymns and vigils devoted to the heart of Jesus. Devotions, once such a bright part of our pre-Vatican II faith lives, now seem like faded fabrics preserved under some obscure museum's glass showcase. Although nostal-gia may too readily find its place, we need to acknowl-edge how devotions in a pre-Vatican II church~ fired up the faith lives of many parish communities and the mis-sionary zeal .of'many women and men. On the other hand, devotions, with their vernacular prayers and singable hymns, sometimes overshadowed even feast-day Masses in people's affection. In fact, the Mass itself often became the time and place for people's devotional practices while the priest quietly busied himself with the ~Latin prayers and formal ritual of the Mass. Perhaps the greatest gift of the liturgical renewal of Vatican II was the clarity brought to the central place of liturgy, both the Eucharist and the Liturgy of the Hours. Devotions, as a result, were given the chance to take a more modestly proportioned place in our spiritual lives, sometimes even to die after years of devout usefulness. But at the same time that the Vatican II renewal was cre-ating a spiritual renewal of prayer practices in correct pro-portion, a major shift in human interaction was taking 324 Review for Religious place in the Western world and having undue influence upon some other nations. New cultural patterns of lifestyle, fragmen-tations of family.living and of many a neighborhood, the subur-bia driving (not walking) distances between home and church, and the easy attractions of TV and home video entertainment every night of the week are among the reasons why the practice of devotions fell by the wayside. The majority of Catholics today have no experience of such devotional practices. The case is lit-tle different in the present-day worship and prayer lives of many men and women religious. Devotions need once again to find their place in faith lives that too often merit the descriptive terms "thin" or "desiccated." There is no doubt that devotions bring color to our somewhat monochrome lives of worship. Devotions rouse some passion in a faith lived often too listlessly, even in Eucharists attended rou-tinely. Yet devotions from the'past need more than just a dusting off. They need to be rethought and reexpressed for our context and time. Even more importantly, perhaps, devotions need to be refounded on the essential of devotion itself. Devotion in the Christian-theological tradition is defined as "an ease in finding God." To say that "here we have a man or woman of devotion" is to point to someone who has an evident and easy relationship with God. To be a person of devotion is to be specially graced by God. Praying for devotion in our spiritual lives is essential for a healthy existence. Even our ministries receive special effectiveness from being permeated with devotion. Devotions and devotion are related, something like the chicken and the egg. If we are people of devotion, we will find that our faith naturally tends to express itself in prayers to Jesus and to Mary and the saints, in vigils, in processions and pilgrimages, and in other such external forms. Devotions in their proper propor-tion feed and strengthen the Christian lives of all the faithful. Devotions cannot be absent from our faith expression without the loss of devotion itself., ~ Perhaps the time has come for all of us to reassess our need for devotions as the fuel and lifesource for the devoted lives we Christians desire to live. David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1995 325 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Multiculturalism, Internationality, and Religious Life The religious community "is an evangelizer, but she begins by being evangelized herself." --Pope Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi § 15 The world is tragically divided by ideological conflicts, pathological forms of nationalism, racial violence, ethnic cleansing programs, and intercultural tensions. It almost destroyed itself through interracial conflict during this century. We who gasped at Hitler's genocide policies live in a world where ecocide, that is, the genocide of virtually all living species of earth, is a real possibility because cul-tures still rarely live side-by-side with respect and justice) It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22). Inasmuch as prophetic witness is at the heart of reli-gious life, the church rightly expects religious communi-ties to be models of intercultural understanding and action. If we judge from the constitutions and mission statements of many congregations, there is a growing theoretical awareness of this need. Thus, there are expressions like these: "We are committed to living internationality in a divided world"; "Let us inculturate the gospel in our own communities first by being authentically multicultural-ist"; "We are called to respect the rights of people to their Gerald A. Arbuckle SlVl wrote "Merging Provinces" for our May-June 1994 issue. He may be addressed at Refounding and Pastoral Develgpment Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 2110; Australia. 326 Review for Religious culture; this applies also to people of different cultures within our congregation"; "We commit ourselves to foster communities in which representatives of several ethnic groups live together in a spirit of dialogue, justice, and charity." But are communities in fact living according to these statements, or are the words just rhetoric and escapes into fantasy? The Future of Religious Orders Study in the United States (FORUS) contains disturbing conclusions about the gap between theory and reality. For example, 96 percent of American religious are white; minority groups are poorly represented; "unconscious racism makes penetration of minority populations into rather homogeneous orders very difficult." The report shows that older religious in particular, while believing they are accepting of minor-ity members, in fact cannot adapt readily to the cultural diver-sity this demands.2 My experience is that religious of dominant cultures usually do not lack goodwill towards minority groups in their midst, but also that, while using the language of multicul-turalism or internationality, they understand only imperfectly what these words mean and what attitudinal and behavioral changes they must make in consequence. This introductory article has two aims: to. explain the terms inculturation, multiculturalisra, and internationality and to help readers identify, through case-study analysis, ways in which they may be unconsciously dominating and even oppressing people of minority cultures within their midst, thus obstructing the emer-gence of multicultural congregations.3 Defining Terms Multiculturalism is an inculturatibn imperative. Incultura~ion is "the incarnation of the Christian life and Christian message in a particular cultural context, in such a way that this experience not only finds expression through elements proper to the culture in question, but becomes a p~'inciple that animates, directs, and unifies the [cultural context], transforming and remaking it so as to bring about a 'new creation.'''4 Multiculturalism is a process of inculturation whereby cultures are so transformed and remade into a "new creation" that they interact with one another in jus-tice and charity in the service of personal ~and community growth. This interaction does not occm" through a command from above or the planning of "just a few experts," as Pope John Paul II May-June 1995 327 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality reminds us in Redemptoris Missio (§54), but through the involve-ment of people at all levels of society. The way culture is conceptualized has significant bearing on the theory and practice of inculturation and consequently of mul-ticulr0ralism. As an hnthropologist I believe that the failure to define accurately what is meant by culture makes it impossible for people to understand the complexity of inculturation and the challenges involved in developing an authentic multicultural com-munity in religious, parish, or secular life. In the classicist's definition, culture is a visible, comprehensi-ble entity, the consEious creation of rational minds,s The focus is on observable phenomena (such as language, foods, literature, dances) rather than on how people feel about what they do. Cultures, then, can be graded aesthetically: one culture may be considered to have more artistic dances than another. This definition of culture has grave deficiencies. It overstresses ethnic groups' historical lifestyles and customs and downplays their adaptation to the world in which they now live. It freezes a culture in a time period and encourages romantic or fossilized views of a people's former way of living. This definition likens a culture to a machine something with visible, rationally con-structed, interconnected parts that can readily be replaced by sim-ilar components without creating any pa.rticular difficulty. If a religious community uses this meaning of culture, then it expects the process of inculturation to be speedy and simple. The com-munity merely replaces, with administrative efficiency, an existing custom with a gospel-inspired one. And it does this by imple-menting the directives of people (pastors, r+ligious superiors) from outside the culture. This is not inculturation; the people who are the object of t~ae process have no free involvement in it, but instead are ma~aipulated. The second definition of culture gives priority to a group's ideas and feelings: Culture is not an entity, but is primarily a pro-cess that is persuasively at work, particularly in the unconscious of the group and individuals. It is a pattern of shared assump-tions expressed in symbols, myths, and rituals that a .group has invented, discovered, or developed .while coping with problems of external adaptation and internal cohesion. This instrumental view of culture, while it assumes the importance of factual history and visible phenomena, highlights the developmental and ever evolv-ing survival role of culture for people in a world of change, prej- 328 Review for Religious udice, and discrimination. Finally, culture is not one aspect of life along with, for example, religious, political, and economic activ-ity. It embraces all human activity.6 An appreciation of this defi-nition of culture has the, following immediate practical consequences for inculturation and multiculturalism. 1. Because a culture is essentially a living interrelation of sym-bols and myths, the feeling of belonging to it is basically invisible to outsiders. The experience of being culturally different or of confronting a history of preju-dice and discrimination pro-duces a set of memories and feelings that are not easily shared with outsiders. The out-sider may gain some under-standing from participation in the visible activities .of the group (such~as dances and food ritu-als), but finds it difficult or even impossible to comprehend its inner experiences and feelings. 2. In order to begin to appreciate another cultu.re, one must have the gifts of empathy and of openness to dialogue. Empathetic listening means trying to become aware not only of others' feelings, but also of how they experience them-- and, as far as possible, to have the same feelings.7 An outsider As an anthropologist I believe that the failure to define accurately what is meant by culture makes it impossible for people to understand the complexity of inculturation and the challenges involved in developing an authentic multicultural community in religious, parish, or secular life. can know more about the history, cultural externals, and even language of an ethnic group than its members and still be alien to them because of a lack of empathy.Dialogue, a consequence of empathy, is the interaction in which people seek to give of them-selves as they are and to receive and know the others in their par-ticular oth.erness.8 Dialogue presumes that one is prepared to learn from others and their cultures and to let ~o of attachments that interfere with the growth in mutuality. 3. People of'every cultu.re tend to think that their own way of feeling about life and of thinking and acting is the right way; they May-June 1995 329 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality see the ways of other peoples as stupid, crude, or unreasonable. This prejudice in favor 'of one's own group is technically called eth-nocentrism. Taken to an extreme, the assumption is that "our way of life is the way of life," so that other groups have nothing of value to offer us. Hence, on the basis of assumed religious, eco-nomic, or racial superiority, people seek to dominate others and their cultures. Frequently people of dominant cultures are uncon-scious of the oppressive power they exert over minority cultures (people who, because of their ethnic origins, are excluded from group decision making); they take their cultural superiority for granted and relate to minority peoples according to cultural stereotypes of their inferiority.9 A stereotype is a set image that a people has of peoples that differ from them; it is a shorthand, but faulty and often unjust, method of handling or grasping a complex world of people. 4. People who are culturally oppressed are likely to become extremely sensitive to the dominant culture's symbols of coercive power. When people of minority cultures move into the main-stream, the resulting contact of cultures is not an abstract concept, but a high order of human drama. The plot and its crosscurrents, its motives and motifs, are played out by a ghostly cast of hang-ers- on, by prejudice, longing, fear.~° 5. When people of different cultures meet for the first time, they tend to react in two or three stages. First, they are fasci-nated by and even enjoy visible cultural differences in, for exam-ple, cuisine and entertainment. Later they experience disillusionment or friction when the difficulties of communication outweigh their enthusiasm for cultural diversity. If they strive to overcome the cultural obstacles to communication, they move to interaction--the experience of authentic multiculturalism. Most never get beyond the second stage. Multiculturalism and Internationality Multiculturalism is often an emotive word, "a buzzword with almost as many meanings as there are mouths to utter it.''11 Most commonly, however, the word is used technically in one of three ways. Demographic multiculturalism means that a particular soci-ety contains different cultural groups; holistic multiculturalism means that a society values cultural diversity, but gives higher priority to group-wide cohesion; political multiculturalism, as a 330 Review for Religious social philosophy; acknowledges the legitimate concerns of ethnic groups within a society or an organization and the need for these interests to be expressed in adequate politico-economic struc-tures and processes. Political multiculturalists seek to establish structures that allow by right minority peoples to be fully involved in decision making in matters that affect their lives. They foster a balance between the demands of overall group cohesion and inner cultural diversity. Multiculturalism, in these three senses, normally applies to situations within the same country; interna-tionality is multiculturalism as applied to relationship.s between separate countries. Political multiculturalism, historically, is a reaction against policies of cultural oppression. Phrases or terms such as "the melt-ing pot approach to immigrants," "cultural pluralism," and "inte-gration" are often synonymous with covert or overt programs to destroy minority cultures by forcing them to be assimilated into the dominant culture. Critical decisions are made about minority peoples and their future without their participation. Another insidious form of oppression is cultural romanticism. Here the dominant culture, using the classicist definition of culture, fosters romantic visions of minority cultures, emphasizing what is thought to be the exotic or strange features of these cultures (dances, rit-uals). People of the dominant culture claim "it would be a pity if such cultures disappeared." Minority peoples are made to feel like inanimate museum pieces to be called out to entertain peo-ple of the dominant culture at politically correct times and then to retire to their inferior positions when the need ceases. Case Studies Case studies are detailed observations of connected processes in individual and group experience thfit help us to understand complex social phenomena and to see ways in which theoretical principles and insights may be applied. I suggest that readers reflect on the following case studies, asking themselves--before ~ssessing my own comments~how the above theoretical clarifi-cations apply in each instance. 1. A General Chapter in Confusion An international congregation of clerical religious met in gen-eral chapter for two months. A participant from a first-world May-~une 1995 331 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality country reported his experience and that of many others: "During the first two weeks, there was a great spirit of internationality and friendship. Each group explained through song, dances, food, and visual displays the qualities of their cultural origins. We espe-cially enjoyed the presentations from the joy-filled third-world countries; they made our Western productions look rather dull in contrast. Then something happened, and it still puzzles me. Quite suddenly delegates from our third-world provinces began to complain angrily in the general sessions that the translation facilities for them were not as good as for the Western delegates, that they were made to feel inferior in committee meetings by never being asked for their opinions . I and others still cannot understand this anger, especially because we did everything pos-sible to give them the first places for their cultural presentations. These are the same people we have helped for so long with gifts for their formation houses and missions. They seem to be ungrate-ful. Perhaps we have failed to teach them the right way to act in international gatherings. The chapter ended without these peo-ple realizing that they had undermined the good spirit of the gathering." Comment: In this case study the delegate has unwittingly adopted the narrow classicist view of culture and moves from enthusiasm for cultural diversity to disillusionment; internation-ality for him and other Western delegates is restricted to such relatively inconsequential things as eating foreign food and admir-ing other people's exotic dances. Influenced by this approach to culture, he' is prevented from understanding the requirements for authentic multiculturalism and internationality within the chap-ter and congregation. Third-world delegates are reacting against a well-entrenched tradition of paternalism and cultural superior-ity on the part of the dominant culture. They rightly want to be accepted for what they are: members of the same congregation, with human experiences and insights of value to all. 2. Romanticism Destroys Formation ' .An international clerical religious congregation, founded last century in Europe, had developed several formation houses in third-world countries. In a report to an international meeting on initial formation in the congregation, the superior general wrote: "We thank God for so many vocations from [these lands]. Because [these lands] are extremely poor, the people so happy and carefree 332 Review for Religious and their cultures so unsophisticated, we have decided for now not to insist on the same rigorous screening criteria for appli-cants nor on the high-level academic and religious life formation that we have in the West. When you meet these students, you immediately feel their happiness and fine community spirit. They will make good religious, but we must not expect them to measure up to our professional standards for some time to come." Comment: The superior general, in his high praise for the cultures of the students, is a cultural romanti-cist, even an unconscious racist. The cultures he refers to are group-ori-ented ones; that is, they emphasize the need for public harmony at all costs, so that tensions and unre-solved, conflicts are kept hidden, but remain ready to explode into vio-lence at any time. The general's inability to recognize this deprives students of their right in justice to be trained professionally for min-istry, trained (for example) to under-stand objectively the cultural forces that influence their lives and those of their people. The ~eneral also makes a racist judgment, namely, that the students from poor techno-logical cultures are incapable of the Third-world delegates are reacting against a well-entrenched tradition of paternalism and cultural superiority on the part of the dominant culture. They rightly want to be accepted for what they are: members of the same congregation, with human experiences and insights of value to all. levels of learning expected in Western formation systems. Finally, the congregation is international, but the general is setting the stage for a two-tier membei'ship: persons with sophisticated edu-cation from Western countries and educationally deprived per-sons from the third world. This means that third-world members of the congregation will effectively be excluded from taking up leadership positions at the international level. 3. Theory and Practice Clash A congregation of brotherb from Europe has worked in Asia for over fifty years, but with no lasting success in recruiting or May-June 1995 333 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality retaining local candidates. Several former brothers of Asian ori-gin commented to me through an intermediary about their expe-rience: "The region was established from a Western nation. After our training we were sent to communities in which most reli-gious were from this foreign country. They were good people, but during recreation they always spoke in -English, never in our language, and the topics of conversation commonly were about incidents and characters of their formation days in Europe or the latest sporting event at home. Then from time to rime they would make ethnic iokes at the expense of our own people, putting them down, and we were expected to laugh as they did. It became so painful that we complained, but we were told to think 'interna-tionally,' not with provincial minds! It became too much so we left." Comment: I sense that the foreigners in this Asian region are totally unaware of their cultural imperialism; it is as if they have never left their homeland, and their use of ethnic jokes illustrates their lack of cultural sensitivity. Ethnic jokes are common in most societies, but examination shows that the object of such jokes is "to put down" members of other cultures and present one's own group as normal and superior. Ethnic jokes are unjust and can be most painful to members of minority groups, who nevertheless are expected, if present when the jokes are told, to laugh submissively and accept the ascribed expression of inferiority.~2 4. Inculturation Expectations Collapse One Mexican American sister recorded her frustration and that of many others: "I became a member of a North American congregation before Vatican II. We Mexican Americans were (and are still) in the minority; the majority are white third- or fourth-generation Americans. During my training we had to divorce our-selves from our families, and I cannot even begin to express what this meant to me and other Mexican American sisters. With the coming of Vatican II, I thought at last I can be a religious and a Mexican American at the same time. Our chapters spoke of the need for inculturation and multiculturalism in our communities and apostolates as priorities. When I and others attempted to take this priority seriously, all kinds of problems emerged. For example, members of my family began to visit frequently, openly using our language for conversation and prayer. Other community members began to object, sometimes hinting or saying directly to 334 Review for Religious me: 'You are disturbing our peace with so many relatives, espe-cially. distant ones, coming to see you. And why don't they speak in English? They should because this is America!'" Comment: Hispanic cultures traditionally emphasize the fam-ily as the basic unit of identity, in vivid contrast to the mainstream American culture, in which individuals claim identity for them-selves independently of family ties. When the congregational chapter in the above case study enthusiastically supports incul-turation and multiculturalism, they are unaware of the implications for individuals and communities. Individualism has become such an unquestioned way of life for the dominant culture in the con-gregation that most members cannot conceive of any alternative lifestyle. Hence, the culture clash. References to inculturation and multiculturalism in chapters remain pure rhetoric. 5. Popular Religiosity Unappreciated~ An international congregation, founded last century in Europe, and with many communities in North America, sought candidates for the first time among Hispanic Americans. For a short time it received several candidates, but the formation leader reported that "they did not survive for long either in the training programs or later in our communities." Several who had left com-mented, and this is a representative view: "My formation house was cheerless, without life, and the communities I lived in after profession were no better. Liturgies were dull, filled with words, but no color or movement. I felt myself dying spiritually. I com-plained to the provincial, and she commented: 'I cannot under-stand you. We provide you with highly trained formators, but you still complain.' The director of formation tried to listen to me and said she understood, so the following month she bought Mexican rugs and ornaments and put them around the house, saying 'This will make you immigrant people feel at home with us!' It did not. We still felt like aliens, unable to pray in devo-tional ways that make sense to us. The sad thing is that no one understood. No wonder Hispanics leave religious life~" Comment: In this case study, there is a serious clash between popular religiosity characteristics of many Hispanic peoples and the standard ways of praying within contemporary North American Catholicism. The inability 5o appreciate popular reli-giosity and the tendency to condemn it as "primitive, supersti-tious nonsense" continues to alienate countless Hispanics from May-June 1995 335 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality Unless candidates are freely able t~o relate the spirituality offered them to their own rich cultural religious experience, it will remain totally alien to them. the church today.~3 At its core popular religiosity is a storehouse of values offering answers of Christian wisdom to the great ques-tions of life. It creatively combines the divine and the human, Christ andMary, spirit and body, intelligence, imagination, and emotion in ways that are colorful and imaginative. Devotions to saints and pious practices--once part of mainstream American Catholic life--are integral features of popular religiosity. ,4. Hispanic Catholics complain, however, that the liturgies of mainstream Ca.tholicism today are cqmmonly too "heady," formal, and unimaginative. In the case study, Hispanic can-didates and religious are unjustly pressured to conform to the domi-nant culture's religious expression.s. This is a tragedy, at several levels. Neither the provincial nor the for-mator has any appreciation of the nature and power of culture; the for-mator assumes, without even asking the. candidates, that culture is syn-onymous with what we see, Bring in a few artifacts and minority peoples will "feel at home." The can-didates understandably feel insulted and misunderstood. Unless the candidates are freely able to relate the spirituality offered them to their own rich cultural religious experience, it will remain totally alien to them. 6. Congregational Colonialism Returns A congregation based in the United States had formally estab-lished a province in Africa. After some years it was decided uni-laterally by the general government to suppress the province for reasons of administrative and financial efficiency and to reunite the community of African sisters within the original province in the United States. The full provincial administration--all Americans-- visited the assembly of African sisters to explain the situation, but to their surprise they were met with considerable anger. An African sister spoke feelingly for her group: "Finance is not our primary need. We are prepared to be poor, provided we can gov-ern ourselves. Now by the adminstrative change we feel again 336 Review for Religious overwhelmed by the presence of the United States, and we are made tQ feel small and unimportant. You have economic and polit-ical power. Now we have none and must submit to a culture of dependency and inferiority!" The provincial administration could not understand this and ieported to the general that the African communities "had come under the influence of Marxism." Comment: There is little need to comment. In their reactions to the adminstrative change, the African sisters are fearful of a return to a new and degrading congregational colonialism. The American administration is unaware that their African sisters have been made to feel inferior under earlier administrative organiza-tional cultures. The failure~ to consult the African sisters about the decision reinforces their understandable distrust of both the provincial and the general administrations. The provincial admin-istrat. ion, by blaming the African sisters for the negativity, sees no need to examine its own cultural assumptions. Conclusion The task of expressing the consecrated life in diverse cultures today is one of the great challenges for its future. --Instrumentum Laboris §93, Synod of Bishops 1994 ° Thevision of multiculturalism is inspiring but rarely achieved in concrete ways. A reason for this is the failure to clarify the meaning of cul~ure. Culture is not primarily the lifestyles of peo-ple; rather, it is a group's sense of its identity, its inner history of struggling for equality, just, ice, and respect for human dignity. Through multiculturalism (and internationality) people of dif-ferent cultures commit themselves to grow humanly together in justice and charity, while respecting and learning from the legit-imate cultural differences of each other. ' Multiculturalism demands ongoing conversion to the mission of Christ, "a profound transformation of mentalities and ways of living" (Instrumentum laboris §93).If religious do not struggle to achieve this transformation, they are not true to the prophetic nature of their commitment, for the values and practice of mul-ticulturalism and internationality are everywhere desperately needed. Moreover, religious committed to refoundingotheir con-gregations would do well to ponder a lesson of history: Energy for the founding and refounding of communities comes from multi-culturalism and internationality. As Raymond.Hostie notes: May-June 1995 337 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality "Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits, and Piarists all emerged from groups .whose members belonged to three nationalities, even four or five . Heterogeneity is a nec-essary condition for activating effective fermentation."~s Notes 1 See Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress PreSs, 1992), pp. 195-207. 2 See David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins. 22, no. 15 (1992): 272, and Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 48. 3 ~ee an earlier article of mine on aspects of this theme: "Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel," Review for Religious 46, no. 3 (May-June 1987): 351-370. 4 Pedro Arrupe SJ, cited by Michael Amaladoss SJ, "Inculturadon and Internationality," East Asian Pastoral Review 29, no. 3 (1992): 23% s See Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, Earthing the Gospel: An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26- 78, and "Understanding Ethnicity, Multiculturalism, and Inculturation," Human Development 14, no. 1, pp. 8-10. 6 On this point I would differ from M. Amaladoss's excellent article cited above, pp. 241-243. 7 See E Lopez, Pastoral Care in an Emerging World (Sydney: Marist Centre for Pastoral Care, 1994), p. 302. s See Arbuckle, Refou. nding the Church: Dissent for Leadership (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), p. 111. 9 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 147-166. ~0 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 166-186. it R. Hughes, Culture of Complaint: The Fraying of America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), p. 83. ,2 See Arbuclde, Earthing, pp. 162f. 13 See Allan Figueroa Deck SJ, The Second Wave: Hispanic Ministry and the Evangelization of Cultures (New York: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 54- 119. ,4 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 108-112. 15 The Life and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-Sociological Approach, (Washington D.C.: CARA, 1983), p. 259. 338 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Accompanying New-Age People '7have often thought . . . if we regard the bomb (or world .~. hunger or the dying seas) as a monstrous demonic injus-tice, that must mean we never, somehow on some level, never took it seriously: the injunction to love. The stuff Jesus was talk-ing about and the Buddha." So wrote Joanna Macy somewhere; and, I believe, the same may well be said regarding the New Age movement (NAM) or, more correctly, the extreme variety of it focused on by the media: images of anything from psychic phe-nomena through esoteric beliefs in crystal gazing and spirit chan-neling to weird fads in self-centered or willful behavior going by the name of cosmic wisdom, My interest--"follow your allurement," Joseph Campbell would say--in writing on this new Western phenomenon comes from two semesters I spent a few years ago with an international group of some seventy people most of whom were Westerners carried along in the the New Age wave.1 We were, of all places, at a Catholic college in California where I had hoped to learn some new exciting approaches to Christian spirituality. Before long, however, I had to contend with some so-called spirituality that seemed anything but Christian. For one thing, "once a Christian, never again a Christian" was the prevailing mood of the majority, some of whom became more and more aggressive towards anything Christian. One time I could not refrain from remarking to my companions that as a group we could be toler-ant and respectful of every tradition except Christian. With so A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote this article from experiences he had while doing graduate studies in spirituality at Holy Names College in Oakland, California. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. May-.3~une 1995 339 Dominic * Accompanying New-Age People much bashing of Christianity in my spiritual circle, I felt like a fish--an ichthus--in a cesspool. As time went on, however, I felt different. I saw things dif-ferently; empathy brought some insight. Coming to hear the per-sonal stories of my companions, all of whom were quondam Christians (Protestant and, like Joseph Campbell himself, Catholic), I could not but feel and formulate that they sought and found this New Age haven because the Christianity of their experience had gone awry; their lives had become an enormous unhealed and unhealing hurt, like Carol Christ's. (She had suffered her incompatible marriage for years until one day, in a terrible skiing accident, she instinctively hoped that her death would make her a martyr to the indissolubility of marriage, only to find her-self still alive and confined to a hospital bed. She decided that she had had enough of the marriage she had entered upon in church, eventually giving up her Christianity too and discovering New Age freedom.) One thirtyish woman among my companions had for years suffered trauma upon trauma because her parents would not listen to her stoW of sexual abuse by a close relative, but instead would tell her to go to confession every time she brought up her nagging distress. Her anguish came to an end when she found a hearing among New Age friends of hers. Another woman who had been quite a staunch Catholic in her youth spoke of the joyless vision of life she grew up with as she prayed about the vale of tears instead of the original blessing (this is a three-word mantra of New Agers) of the universe. Seconding them, a man-- a religious brother in good standing--declared nevertheless that the church had constricted and restricted his humanity by its leaden dos and don'ts. In the New Age covenant groups, all of them found, or thought they had found, what they had missed out on during their childhood or adolescent Christianity. Obviously, in all such cases, whatever in their new associa-tion they perceived to be filling their psychological or spiritual needs was something basically Christian, however unaware of this they were because of the unresponsive, unenlightened, and per-haps even false practice of Christianity with which they had been contending. From this discerningperspective New Age spirituality may be said to embrace within itself certain Christian elements at their best which somehow for whatever reason were found miss-ing in avowed Christian circles, whether they were couples or homes or schools or seminaries or rectories or dioceses or, of 340 Review for Religious course, the Vatican (the veritable b~te noire of former Catholics finding their berth in the New Age). I would, then, dispute the claim of the NAM to offer a spirituality for a post-Christian world, and I would point out that, despite the NAM's aversion to Christianity, quite a few of its genuine experiences have been, in many times and places, very much at home in Christianity. As the New Age plays the queen of all it surveys and declares it to be "the post-Christian world," I would submit that her declaration is in vain for the simple reason that she herself has made a home for genuine Christian elements forgotten or forsaken. Ironically, thanks to her the church and Christianity have an unsuspected way of coming into their own. Perhaps this is what a deacon's twenty-year-old daughter--quite unlike my companions--meant when she said: "Don't get me wrong. I don't hate the church. I just want it to be better than it is. I want it to be alive--not what some old deacon thinks is alive, but my kind of alive . -2 It is not fanciful but altogether pleasantly surprising to find how, for all the avowed antagonism to Christ among those sab-batical- year companions of mine, Christ made himself discreetly, unobtrusively present. Have we not heard about the unknown Christ of non-Christian religions? Perhaps in the New Age circle of my acquaintance he was not so much unknown as unacknowl-edged, unwanted, and even (unsuccessfully) banished. A former seminarian, for instance, confessed virulently that he had no need of Christ to save him for he had nothing to be saved from. Christ, however, kept himself in their midst in an unintrusive manner. That, perhaps, is the very nature of Christ. I was led willy-nilly to think in this way by observing the effect a song had on some my of New Age friends. Of all the songs we used for the circle dance, the Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison especially charmed the most conspicuously anti-Christian one among us. I could not help chuckling over the archetypal trickster role Christ resorted to in order to reach out to one who had rejected him consciously and deliberately. If New Agers would "let go" (a favorite expres-sion of theirs) of Christ, Christ would let them, but he would not let go of them. While we rejoice in this latent presence of Christ in the NAM, we would do well to ask our'selves how much of Christ we, the people of present-day Christianity, hold on to~ Whatever of Christ we had, did it convey so untrue an image of him that someone close to us chose to turn his or her back on him? Why else did a May-.~ne 1995 341 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People young man make bold to say: "The picture we have of the Christian church as a continuation of the fellowship Jesus set in motion is a gross distortion" ? 3 If it is, is it not high time that we regrasp Christ and make more of a home for him in our churches so that people cannot avoid seeing and meeting him there? Now is a good time for the church to let the "Christ before Christianity" address himself to it so that it may come to know him afresh in a renewal of the reign of God that he initiated. The New Age, reacting against the present age of Christianity, seeks its roots in an age older than our familiar ancient civiliza-tions. It has found, however, a certain remnant of Christian tra-dition appealing to it, namely, the mystical tradition. So it would revive the memory of mystics like Mechtild of Magdeburg and Meister Eckhart who are credited with having drawn heavily from the chthonic and matriarchal era of humanity. Whatever the rea-son for the NAM's reverence for these Christian mystics, thought-ful Christians can think of them only as Christians and not in any other terms. Will it not be true to say that Christian mystics were more Christian than mystic, having become mystics precisely by their way of being Christian? Th.e acceptability of some Christian mystics to New Age reli-gionists (I say "some" because they find others such as Augustine and Ignatius Loyola distinctly unacceptable) should not be mat-ter for any triumphalism inasmuch as the NAM goes for all mys-ticism. Instead, the New Age's mystical interests must serve to open our eyes to what we have lost sight of, namely, the mystical horizon of the Christian universe from its very inception in Christ. How many can resonate with the declaration made by William Johnston that Christianity indeed originates in the mystical expe-rience of Christ, reaching its climax in his resurrection? How many will be persuaded by Johnston's sweeping view of our mys-tical heritage, starting with Christ, handed down by Paul, kept alive by the fathers of the church, cherished by the medieval mys-tics, and shared in even by the simple people whom Poulain found in his time and Johnston and others recognize in ours? Given the mystical strain of Christianity, he suggests that reflection on our mystical experience, together with the reflection on conversion that Bernard Lonergan advocates, could form the basis of our theology in the future.4 In keeping with the New Age penchant for all forms of mys-ticism of whatever origin, one crusader of the NAM, Matthew 342 Review for Religious Fox, has come up with a dozen or so running definitions of mys-ticism, qualifying almost everyone to be a self-designated mys-tic. However one may critique such New Age eclecticism, there is behind it such a thing as the real intention (to use Neuro- Linguistic Programming's term) that is certainly right and praise-worthy insofar as it only culls the beautiful wherever it finds it. This is one of the ways in which the New Age can pose a challenge to religions to recover their original spirit and. shed whatever has become unnecessarily hidebound,s Aiming at such a breakthrough, the New Age attends to the different religions as to a story and not a lecture;6 and so it can appropriately respond to the turns and twists and leads and plots of the different religious stories, thus creating a new story and generating a new spirituality. All modern, sensible Christians cannot but see in all this a certain spirit of ecumenism. However much official church pronouncements eulo-gize and emphasize the modern Christian spirit as ecumenical, the ecumenical practice in church life worldwide is not conspicuously vigorous even if present. How many have Christianity enough to hate but not to love, whether in Northern Ireland or Rwanda or the former Yugoslavia or other large and small places! What thoughtful Christian could fail to agree with what a New Age writer has remarked: "For many peo-ple, religion has become a force that creates enemies and teaches distrust and disrespect for differences, rather than a force that truly builds the human family and the meaning that sustains us"?7 Seen from this perspective, New Age eclecticism could well be practical ecumenism, something that Christians ideally seek to realize in their communities vis-~a-vis other religious communities. Here as elsewhere it is better to make mistakes and progress by learning from them than to play safe, avoiding mistakes only to make the big mistake of getting stuck in the status quo and then regressing. It is certainly high time to vindicate the bold inspira-tion of John XXIII and the proud heritage he bequeathed to his church, to all of Christianity, and to all the world. Will it not be true to say that Christian mystics were more Christian than mystic, having become mystics precisely by their way of being Christian? May-j~lne 1995 ~ 343 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-AgePeople No story has been told of how this pope got the idea of con-vening an ecumenical council. But what if it had come to him in a dream? Whatever the hierarchy or the theologians or the church's rank and file might think about such a story, New Agers would not at all find it odd or shocking. They set store on their dreams, treasuring them as the nocturnal gifts of the Universe or the collective unconscious that counterbalance an overmuch influ-ence of the conscious reasoning power of the waking hours. They are intent on keeping a regular and detailed record of them, going to great lengths sometimes to stimulate and then recall them, pondering over them daily (reminiscent of the "additional direc-tives" in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola and also reminiscent of formal religious practice itself). They have their guru in C.G. Jung, who not only developed a mythological and mystical approach to dreams, but also left behind his conviction that dreams can be read by anyone who meditates on them long enough. Many New Age people would resonate with Henry Miller's experiences: "The realization that there was a pattern to my life, one which made sense, came about in a curious way. Shortly after moving into the Villa Seurat, I had begun to record my dreams. And not only the dreams but the associations which the act of transcribing them induced. Doing this over a period of months, I suddenly began to see, 'To suddenly see,' as Saroyan says somewhere. A pregnant phrase--to anyone who has had the experience. An expression which has only one meaning: to see with new eyes.''8 New Age people believe in the newness brought about by dreams on all levels (personal and social) and domains (artistic, scientific, philosophic, and theosophic) of humanity. They see themselves as cocreators of new humanity, thanks to the creative potential of dreams breaking through the premature closure of thought represented for them by the dictum that rev-elation was complete with the death of the last apostle. Though the real point of the theological dictum might be missed by New Age people, their rediscovery of dreams is some-thing that may be missed by church people. For one thing, we must realize that, along with all religious cultures, the Judeo- Christian tradition too has developed its own perspective of dreams. Abraham Lincoln is reported to have remarked some-thing obvious and yet valuable enough to appear as the epigraph of a Christian book on dreams: "How much there is in the Bible about dreams! . . . If we believe the Bible, we must accept the 344 Review for Religious fact that, in the old days, God and his angels came to humans in their sleep and made themselves known in dreams.''9 There are sensible Christians who would wager that what happened in the old biblical days can and does continue to hap-pen even today for God's people, especially if God is the Revealer of Mysteries and also of our inmost thoughts (Dn 2:29-30), direct-ing our hearts even at night (Ps 16:7). Those who think in this line and yet are not very sure about the meaning of their dreams may well be enlightened by the remark of an anonymous author: "It is very interesting to see that all the dreams reported by religious fig-ures in the New Testament and in early Christianity do not require any interpreting at all. They are nearly always straightforward messages of encouragement from God.''~° A simple Tamil farmer, for instance, could appreciate this. In a dream he saw a leprosy patient asking him for a glass of water and he gave him one, but only after much hesitation until he heard a clear voice telling him to get up and read Matthew,25:35. On waking he looked up the passage: "I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink." Those in the Catholic tradition with their cult of saints may well draw inspiration from the way the saints benefited from their dreams even after reflecting on dreams fell into disrepute in the church in the middle of the 4th century. To recall a saint of recent history, John Bosco (1815-1888) certainly cherished his dreams and shared them with others. At the age of nine, he had a dream which recurred repeatedly for some eighteen years. First he saw himself surrounded by spoiled urchins and trying noisily and forcibly to control them; a man of noble bearing and great radi-ance called him by name and bade him do his work kindly and gently; then he saw a lady of beauty and majesty changing all sorts of wild animals into gentle lambs and asking him to do the same to her children. Through that dream he could in the course of time envision more and more the future establishment of his Besides their serious attention to dreams, New Age people have discovered in ancient cultures something else, the celebration of rituals. May-d~ne 1995 345 Dominic * Accompanying New-Age People Oratory and the spread of his work.11 Whatever spiritual profit accrued to the saints by way of dreams can become a matter of our own experience because each one of us is a special sort of a saint, an idea that NAM would laud heartily. Besides their serious attention to dreams, New Age people have discovered in ancient cultures something else, the celebra-tion of rituals. New Age celebrants perform some of the old rit-uals related to mythological tales like that of Demeter and Persephone, hoping to be empowered by them. They resurrect the rituals of the seasons, wanting to be in tune with the rhythm of the earth and the energy of the sun. They reenact and update the rit-uals of passage of human life from birth, through adulthood and marriage, to death. No wonder, then, that after the violent death of one of my compaflions, a New Age former Catholic, there was held a ritual which included a long circle dance with the song "We all come from the goddess / and to her shall we return / like the drops of waters / flowing to the ocean," followed by the unex-pected eerie cry of a woman almost beside herself swearing to avenge her friend's death. Of all the rituals the pride of place would go to the ritual of the maze. It consists in meandering through a maze to reach the inner center and then making one's way back to the outer rim. Interestingly, it developed out of, or at least came to be associated with, the archetype of the spiral that manifests itself in the total spectrum of the universe from the shape of the galaxies through that of the atomic space to that of the DNA helix. One may wonder ivhether this ritual has not pen-etrated beneath humanity's consciousness when one realizes the enthusiasm aroused by the variety of mazes or labyrinths extant even today in various countries such as Sweden, Japan, and Britain--this last, incidentally, declared 1991 the Year of the Maze. Two of the friends in our group decided to plight their love to each other singing their way through a labyrinth far from the madding crowd deep in a quiet valley open to the azure gaze of the California sky and in the presence, of course, of those who had journeyed with them. I wonder whether New Age revelers resorting to renewed or newfound rituals have known the wise words of the Tat Te Ching: "Ritual is but the crust of loyalty and good faith, / And the begin-ning of discord.''12 1 would, however, add this observation. Though some of their rituals can be weird, others are truly inspiring and religious. The ceremony "Remembering the Way," created by 34.6 Review for Religious Joan M. McMillen, for instance, honoring the eight-hundred-year- old labyrinth in the Cathedral of Chartres, with its evocative music even using Latin in a whole stanza and its call to let go, builds up a climax of expectancy in everyone, ending with the final song of calm assurance: "Sooner or later, everyone finds their way. / Wholly without, embracing; wholly within, ful-filling. / Go I know not where, seek I know not what. / Sooner or later, everyone comes home." That a genuine spiritual experience can be built around a long-forgotten and unused maze in the French cathedral is an eloquent symbol for me of the untapped, undying springs of spir-ituality hidden not only in the heart, but in the history of the church. Thus, the ritual celebrations at the vernal equinox and the winter solstice can with a little imagination be linked with the feasts of the Annunciation and Christmas, respectively, lead-ing people to experience heaven even on the way to heaven and that in an earthly way--as has been done, for instance, at the Jesuit retreat house in Sedalia, Colorado. So also, the simple drumming and dancing and singing of native peoples all over the globe have a spiritual potential that the church can effectively make its own with respect and gratitude and joy.13 In these matters the church does not need to conduct first-time experiments, but need only reclaim riches from its distant past. For example, even in the cenobitic times, long before churches of the medieval period served as stages for the enter-tainment that morality plays provided, the church building was already considered a festive hall?4 The modern church has been made newly festive mostly by the charismatic renewal, which is largely an urban phenomenon; it must become open to some of the festivity of "pagan" (from the Latin pagus "country district," as New Agers point out) or "rural" areas, the places of aboriginal roots. The New Age movement manifests an earthy or creation-ori-ented spirituality. Clear expressions of it--and extreme ones if understood literally instead of metaphorically--are "Mother Earth" and "Mother Nature." A literal understanding would go beyond James Lovelock's Gaia hypothesis and would conceive the earth as a living entity, with a life of its own on which ours depends. It would understand the divine principle as not only being in nature, but being nature itself. There would be no room for transcendence here. Everything of earth would be sacred, in May-j~ne 1995 347 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People particular the whole of human nature without any distinction between matter and spirit. A less extreme position about all this would be analogous to Copernicus's. As he saw Earth displaced from center stage, people would see themselves displaced from their superior position as the thinking species separated from the rest of nature and would give the preeminence to the whole of the universe and especially to Earth, unique planet that it seems to be, making it Earth's universe par excellence with a history of fifteen billion years or so. Comparable to this cosmological posi-tion would be this theological position: Since the earth is of such an age compared with which the whole of human history is no more than a brief moment, the point of departure for theologiz-ing should be the original blessing of the earth rather than the original fall. Aside from the first and most extreme position above--a fer-vid New Ager like Carol Christ, however, would prefer not to make such distinctions--the other two positions could easily become the ideal Christian view of earth. Though the Christian West may have used and overused the earth to the point of abuse, Christian sources tell a different story. The Bible opens with the story of the earth and all creation, in which the divinity finds due delight because of the imprint of the divine goodness all through it, Hopkins's one line "The world is charged with the grandeur of God" says it well, and so does Elizabeth Browning's couplet "Earth's crammed with heaven / And every common bush afire with God"--both reminiscent of the psalmist's familiar words "How great is your name, O Lord our God, / through all the earth!" (Ps 8:9). It is quite a revelation, is it not, that God provided a power-ful answer--through not a directly reasoned answer--to the bur-den of Job's anguished questions by encountering him as the God of creation's awesomely rich variety? "Ever since God created the world, his everlasting power and deity--however invisible--have been there for the mind to see in the things he has made" (Rm 1:20). It is no wonder, then, that, whenever God enters into a covenant with his human creation, he carries conviction by invok-ing the enduring solidity of his natural creation in such words as these: "Yahweh who provides the sun for light by day, the moon and stars for light by night, who stirs the sea, making its waves roar, he whose name is Yahweh Sabaoth, says this: Were this estab-lished order ever to pass away from my presence--it is Yahweh 348 Review for Religious who speaks--only then would the race of Israel also cease to be a nation in my presence forever" (Jr 31:35-36). This creation, however, is not as pure as it was originally because of original sin and all the successive sins of humanity. In spite of that, or' perhaps because of it, Paul could visualize the present thus: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons. It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was made unable to attain its purpose, itwas made so by God; but creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slaver~ to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire cre-ation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giv-ing birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first-fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bod-ies to be set free" (Rm 8:19-23). This visualization of all cre-ation, human as well as hatural, contains in an embryonic man-ner all the challenges and hopes Some, then, would say: Since the earth is of such an age compared with which the whole of human history is no more than a brief moment, the point of departure for theologizing should be the original blessing of the earth rather than the original fall. engendered and cherished by enlightened earthlings in relation to their earth, which, for all the ravages caused to it, is still humble, fertile, homely, and motherly. And so we learn to reverence cre-ation and earth and matter as St. John Damascene taught: "Through it, filled, as it were, with a divine power and grace, my salvation has come to me." At the end of a crescendo of ques-tions, he asks: "And, before all these things, is not the Body and Blood of our Lord matter? Do not despise matter, for it is not despicable.''~s These words are surely evocative of Teilhard de Chardin (quite a model for New Age faithful), but not only of him but of Ighatius Loyola (quite unacceptable to the New Age, though of him Teilhard has said that he could no more disown him than he could his own father), from whose Spiritual Exercises Teilhard had learned not a little about the divine milieu of the May-June 199Y 349 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People It is high time that we take the commandment of love seriously with regard to the way we look at New Age people. earth. In particular in the Contemplation to Attain Love he must have obtained a new vision of the universe in which he could find not only all things in God but God in all things.16 The dynamics of this vision is traced by Gilles Cusson thus: "The final fulfillment of God's revealed plan of salvation, which is a mystery of love expressed in the gratuitous calls to creation and salvation, is the pro-gressive movement of the world toward God, through the coming of the Christ who assumed the totality of our human condition; of the world which, now renewed, finds again on itself the divine mark of its origin and the sublime ordination which God's creative act had imprinted on it."~7 To conclude as we began, it is high time that we take the com-mandment of love seriously with regard to the way we look at New Age people. To the conservative and cocksure among us, some of them may appear to be freaks. But, as one of their fold, Jacquelyn Small, suggests somewhere, "What would Love do?" must be our constant question and search. By reading the signs of the times with a decided spirit of love, one may come to find many an admirable pearl of spirituality in the field of the New Age move-ment. These are to be valued in themselves and are worth redeem-ing for our church and ourselves, for we must love not only our neighbor but ourselves as well. Surely not everything in the New Age's,field is valuable, but among New Age leaders there are, for-tunately, some who dispute whatever is disingenuous and dehu-manizing and disintegrating. A witness to this reality I chanced to find in David Spangler, who in speaking of the New Age describes something that I as a Christian applaud: The shape of the new age takes on ordinary proportions for me. I find it, for example, in nurturing my marriage or in gracefully meeting the demands of parenthood. I find a new age in my craft and improving my work. I find it-in ¯ my questions about myself that impel me to confront my shortcomings and boundaries. I find it in the never ending quest to understand the nature and purpose of a God who 350 Review for Religious is not simply--or even primarily--the inner divinity that so many new age writers focus on, but the evocative Other whose very differences impel me to reach beyond myself and participate in the larger communion and community of life. I find the new age in the daily effort we share to live with integrity, grow with courage, and be a willing partner with life to allow expression of dreams and capabilities.~8 Accompanying New Age adherents in the spirit developed in the pages above would be a way to implement concretely two of the points contained in the call of the Inter-American Assembly of Religious held in 1994 in Santo Domingo, namely, (1) "to reject all that disavows the holiness of our world and its peoples, and instead to embrace our world and its peoples, sharing their con-crete social, economic, cultural, and religious struggles and hopes," and (2) "to reject efforts at evangelization that arise from stances of authoritarian power, and instead to proclaim" the good news and hope of Jesus from within the cultures and the experiences of people." t9 Notes ~ That it has made itself felt in the spiritual world at large is beyond doubt. See The Way, July 1993, devoted entirely to New Age spiritual-ity. 2 Don Gilmore, Extra Spiritual Power (Waco, 1972), p. 90. 3 Ibid, p. 93. 4 See William Johnston, The Inner Eve of Love (London, 1978), pp. 58- 59, and also Luis M. Bermejo, The Allurement of the Summit (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1993), pp. ix, 66, 67, and passim. s See Matthew Fox and Brian Swimme, Manifesto for a Global Civilization (Santa Fe: Bear and Co., 1982), p. 38. 6 See David Spangler, "The New Storytellers," In Context, Winter 1985, p. 19. 7 V. Hull, "New Myths to Live," One Earth, June-July 1986, p. 19. 8 Cited by Jeremy Taylor, Dream Work (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), p. 20. 9 See Louis M. Savary et al., Dreams and Spiritual Growth (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. xi. ~0 Anonymous, Dreams and Destiny (London, 1987), p. 51. ~ SeeJ. Bacchiarello, Forty Dreams of St. John Bosco (Madras, 1969), pp. iv and 2-3. May-3nune 1995 351 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People ,2 The preceding lines are: When the Way (Tao) fades away, Virtue (7~) raises up, When virtue fades away, humanness (jen) raises up, When humanness fades away, justice (yi) raises" up, When justi6e fades away, the ritual (li) raises upi' --cited by'~Raimon Panikkar, Worship and Secular Man (London, 1973), p. ix. ,3 Happily such were some of the main topics discussed in the work-shop in Canada last year for Jesuits working among the aboriginal peo-ples in different parts of the world. 14 See Panikkar, Worship, p. 85. ,s Cited by Samuel Rayan, "The Earth Is the Lord's," Vidyajyoti, 1990, p. 121. , ,6 Spiritual Exercise¢, §§230-237. 17 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash and St. Louis: institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 323. See also p. 324, n. 34. ,8 New Realities, May-June 1988. 19 Review for Religious 53, no. 4 (July-August 1994): 619-620. Universe Universe becoming befriending and free Summon the more, the maybe, and the not yet from me. Open the winds to enter me in and find gift and seeds and hop~ and flowers knowing that creation comes in longing openness to Mystery. Patricia St Louis CSJ 352 Review for Religious BARBARA VALUCKAS Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home ~hile making my silver-jubilee retreat in 1983, I prayed ~" I¢ over the biblical passages about the year of jubilee. The directive in Leviticus 25 to "return to [your] ancestral home" in the jubilee year penetrated my prayer, bur did not fully infuse my imagination. I was able to name and celebrate many ancestral homes including my family, my church, my religious congregation, and my womanhood. Among these I named my ethriic and cultural roots in Lithuania, but in 1983, several years before the collapse of the Berlin wall, a literal fulfillment of the biblical words was beyond my imagining. I was to learn, however, that it was not beyond God's'imagination for me. I made my,first journey to Lithuania seven years later, just one year after people began streaming through the former Iron Curtain. As provincial of the VVilton, Connecticut, province of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, I was on my way to Hungary via Lithuania to attend an extended general council meeting of our congregation. I encountered a country in the first stages of its exodus experience of freedom. Lithuania,had been the first Soviet-occupied country to declare its° independence. The Sajudis ("Movement") Party sailed into power on a wave of public eupho- Barbara Valuckas SSND works in Pilgrim Ministries to support organi-zational journeys of people worldwide. This article, now slighdy revised, appeared originally in the Eastern Europe issue of LCWR Occasional Papers (March 1995). Her address is Pilgrim Ministries; 9 Academy Hill Road; Watertown, Connecticut 06795. E-mail in U.S.A.: MVV:K5 8 B@Prodigy.com. May-~ne 1995 353 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania ria about all the blessings that would come with freedom and a free market economy. No one then anticipated the long desert trek of turmoil and transition that lay ahead. The effects of five decades of brutal suppression of people and their nation would not dis-appear overnight. When I returned to Lithuania again in 1992 on my way to our general chapter in Rome, the rumblings of popular disillu-sionment had already achieved great momentum. In claiming their independence from Russia, Lithuanians had not fully antic-ipated the economic consequences of being cut off from Russian oil and other commodities. In changing from the ruble economy to one more related to Western currencies, people were jolted by the reality of Western prices. Shadow sides of capitalism were already making their appearance in the form of new unemploy-ment and homelessness; the presence of street beggars shocked people long unaccustomed to such realities. The simple people I met in the countryside expressed their desire to return to.the Egypt of economic security. They said, "At least under the Communists we had enough to eat, and we had heat." These unforeseen shortages of food and fuel helped to bring down the fledgling independence government and to sweep the Communists back as the majority party in Lithuania in the fall. This time, the Communists were not the forcible occupiers, but duly elected officials with a mandate from the people. Many Lithuanians were dazed by this outcome. They could not believe that they had voluntarily elected the same people whose power they had so recently thrown off. They felt stuck in the mud of their own confusion and ambivalence, even as they sought to take the first steps toward rebuilding their country. The rebuilding of every part of Lithuanian life was as daunt-ing a challenge as the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem after it had been totally destroyed. Within my own prayer I could feel the Leviticus jubilee invitation to return to one's ancestral home evolving into a more literal and compelling call. I found myself praying, along with Nehemiah (2:1-8), "If it please the king, and if you are satisfied with your servant, give me leave to go to Judah, to the city of my ancestors' tombs, and rebuild it." I prayed this prayer rather blindly because, from a practical point of view, it was not clear to me what I could contribute in Lithuania. Once again my imagination for myself was not up to God's imagina-tion for me. 354 Review for Religious Although all four of my grandparents had come from Lithuania and both of my parents spoke the language, I quickly moved from Lithuanian to English, as many second-generation children of immigrants do. Consequently, I did not know what I could do in Lithuania when my term as provincial gave way to a sabbatical year. I need not have wor-ried because, with little effort on my part, the doors flew open. After learning of my background in educa-tional television, Msgr. George Sarauskas, of the National Catholic Conference of Catholic Bishops Office to Aid Central and Eastern Europe, invited me to serve as a con-sultant to the newly created Catholic Television Center in Lithuania. In retrospect I can appreciate the loving providence of God, who picked up a thread from my profes-sional past and used it as a "leading string of love" (Hosea 11:4) to tug on my heart and my life, gently pulling it toward my ancestral home. Responding to this leading string, I reappeared in Lithuania in mid August 1993 for the first of two three-month periods of life and work with and for the Lithuanian people. From visitation to our SSND missions on other continents, I had learned the need to approach any kind of rebuilding as a humble learner. The Lithuanian people had to identify what needed rebuilding in the temple of their persons and their nation and how that rebuilding should proceed. My role had to be one of listening, support, and enablement. Sister Donna Steffan SC accompanied me for the first three weeks of my fall 1993 visit. Together we visited people in the cities and the countryside. We asked them to share with us their perceptions of Lithuania's current reality and to tell us what they most needed from the church. At first shyly and tentatively and then with growing trust, they revealed that one of their biggest needs was for people just to listen to their stories. The years of occupation had trained them not to trust anyone; as a result, most people kept their experiences and feelings locked up inside them-selves. They recognized a great need to unburden themselves. One woman described the effects of the occupation with the image in a distorting mirror that we in the West most often associate with the fun house in amusement parks. May-37une 1995 355 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania One woman described the effects of the occupation with the image in a distorting mirror that we in the West most often asso-ciate with the fun house in amusement parks. She said that every Lithuanian learned to live behind at least three faces. The first face was the "pro-Communist" face that one was obliged to show to one's employer and professional colleagues in order to keep one's job. The second face was the one shown to one's family and friends. Even this face had many subtle degrees corresponding to one's trust level. The third face was the one shown to oneself. My friend continued by saying that the overall effect of hav-ing to hide behind three different faces for such a long period of years was a gradual disintegration of the personality and a warp-ing of the soul. So, when Lithuanians look into the mirrors of their souls, it is like looking into a distorted mirror. What they see is not lovely but grotesque. It causes some people to go to con-fession often in the effort to "scrape their souls clean" and to receive constant reassurances of God's love and forgiveness of things they may have said or done behind the first face so as to assure their own survival or that of loved ones. This self-image of distortion was mentioned in one form or another by a number of people who described themselves and their country as "bent" in some way. It suggested to me an image of Lithuania as the bent-over woman described in the Scriptures. Like that woman, Lithuania has lost much blood in its tortured patriots and saints. One bishop, upon meeting me and hearing of my purpose in Lithuania, said, "Help us to stand up straight." Donna and I asked some of the parents with whom we visited if they had new hope for the future now that Lithuania had its independence. The most common reply was that these young and middle-aged couples viewed themselves as already having been "destroyed." If they expressed any hope at all, it was for their children. Many said that the years of occupation had forced them to live "like animals." In the stories of the people, we learned that during the occupation every dimension of human creativity was suppressed in the name of the "people." A carpenter could not design a new piece of furniture nor a dressmaker a new pattern unless the designs were approved by numerous offices in Moscow. The approval, in turn, depended upon the ability of the design to be replicated throughout the Soviet Union to preserve some stated ideal of socialist sameness. Eventually many people "forgot" how to think creatively and learned to do only what they were told. 356 Review for Religious I recently heard a radio interview with an American busi-nessman expressing his frustration with doing business in the for-mer Soviet republics. He said that, no matter what size boards he ordered for his building materials, the ones that were delivered were all the same size, the former Soviet standard size. Apparently the workers had lost the ability to imagine that boards could be cut to any other dimension. To me this was a powerful image of the damage that had been done to the minds and psyches of the people. This sense of damage to human creativity was reinforced by our visits to some of the museums in Lithuania. We were awed by the burst of Lithuanian creativity in music, art, literature and poetry, and sculpture during the brief period of national inde-pendence before the occupation. All of the exhibits seemed to me to come to an abrupt halt in the late 1940s. It was like applying to a whole nation the title of Etty Hillesum's book An Interrupted Life. What happened to all of that creativity for a half century? It appears that a lot of it went into the coordination of the under-ground resistance movements, including the underground church. Many Lithuanians, however, having become atheistic collabora-tors with the occupiers, used their energies to promote the pro-paganda machine. Still others turned their talents to the exploitation of people. After independence all of these forms of creativity continued, but in more open ways. The church, newly emerged from the underground, is using its creative energies to rebuild itself above ground. The collaborators are using their tal-ents at various levels of government, pursuing the old Communist agenda as well as their own self-aggrandizement while they are still in power. And the exploiters have emerged in the black market and in other criminal activities, that include an increase in violence. Some entrepreneurs opening private businesses receive almost instant demands for protection money. Resisters, if not murdered, find their new businesses destroyed. After many decades of being cut off from others, Lithuanians are eager to learn more about the rest of the world. Since most do not have the resources to travel, television becomes their win-dow on that world. The most popular television program in Lithuania today is the American soap opera "Santa Barbara." It is not clear to me if the story line is as important to the viewers as are the infinite clues to the first-world affluent lifestyle that May-j~ine 199Y 357 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania American viewers have come to take for granted. They notice that none of the characters have stainless steel teeth (as many Lithuanians do). They note the large living spaces with beautiful bathrooms, the gorgeous clothes and cars. I once gave a relative of mine some American magazines in a brown envelope, the kind with a small metal clasp. The whole family gathered around that envelope and examined the clasp in great detail. Eventually some-one said, "We saw one of these on Santa Barbara!" When the three weeks of Donna's visit had come to an end, we spent a day of prayer and theological reflection on the mean-ing of our experience together. One of the scriptural images that seemed to gather up those .first weeks of listening was the story of Ruth and Naomi. The unexpected loss in the experience of wid-owhood began that story. God seemed to have cut down their hopes, but in reality was leading them to a fulfillment of these hopes beyond their expectations. Ruth and Naomi chose to remain together as they journeyed into an unknown future. For Donna and me, Lithuania itself was like Ruth and Naomi. Its hopes for its own independence as a nation were ruthlessly cut down. But Lithuania is still in the middle of its story; the end-ing is not clear at all. Lithuania is still trying to nourish itself on the few stalks of grain dropped by reapers in the fields. We could also recognize the fidelity of Ruth and Naomi to each other in many of the Lithuanian people we had met: in the young family which remained faithful to their ill and old grandparents, in the young boy who chose to remain with his mother who was dying of tuberculosis, in the many priests, women religious, and lay people who chose to remain faithful to their religion during the long years of persecution. These choices were all the more coura-geous when one remembers that they were made in the teeth of efforts to break down all forms of fidelity, trust, and solidarity. We understood that we ourselves and others coming from outside the country and walking with the Lithuanian people were echoing Ruth's words "Your people shall be my people." We rec-ognized that this would imply a willingness to be with the Lithuanian people in ,their present experience of confusion and scarce resources; it would mean willingness to hold back from efforts to "answer" and "fix." In the end the Lithuanian people need to be the rebuilders of their own nation and church. It is a tricky thing to "accompany" a people without trying to control what they do. Another thread from my professional 358 Review for Religious past helped me in my own struggle to find a balance. While work-ing with an organization called Community Creativity before tak-ing up my ministry of community leadership, I learned how to elicit people's stories about their reality and to "mirror" these experiences to them in helpful ways. I learned that, if people can draw upon their own experiences as their base for learning and growth, they are more likely to see the rebuilding as their own. Over the course of the two three-month periods that I spent in Lithuania during my sabbatical year, I was able to use this "mir-roring" process with three different groups of people within the Lithuanian church: the staff of the Catholic Television Center, the catechists, and the women religious. After interviewing each member of the television center, I had a better sense of its short but significant corporate story. Like almost everything else in eastern Europe, church communica-tions had to jump from 0 to 10 in a very short time after the col-lapse of the Berlin wall. Church officials who had been forcibly silenced for five decades suddenly found themselves expected to speak--on national television--words.of meaning and hope to people who~ "like sheep without a shepher.d," desperately needed guidance as the structures.of their lives crumbled around them. It was a shock both for these church leaders and for the peo-ple to have to jump so suddenly from centrally controlled pro-paganda- oriented media to more democratic and truth-oriented forms. No one knew how to give or receive an opinion, and han-dling any diversity of thought posed real dilemmas. One of the first things that I was able to reflect to the staff of the Catholic Television Center was that, although people had technical skills, no one seemed to have a sense of what the mission of the center was. In the discussion that followed this observation, I learned that the whole concept of a mission statement was new to people whose entire lives had been bent toward purposes defined for them by the government. After much dialogue (which was another new experience in itself), we eventually were able to articulate a mission statement. The Catholic Television Center saw its mission as giving a voice to the once silent Lithuanian church and educating the Lithuanian people about the world church. These purposes, while clear, were fraught with ambivalence. The Lithuanian church survived under-ground only by the exercise of strong central authority that oper-ated largely in secret. There were no group discussions; there May-d~une 1995 359 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania was no consensus building. Information was passed from one per-son to another singly. Control over information was essential to survival. Given this history, It can be quite threatening to provide the .Lithuanian church with a voice Consonant with the Vatican II understandifig of the church as the people of God. The Lithuanian church grapples with questions of how much diversity of thought and'opinion should be expressed in the media and how much should be kept "secret" or even suppressed. There is also ambiva-lence regarding the life of the church in other parts of the world. On the one hand, there is a great eageyness to see how Catholics in other parts of the world live and worship. On the other hand, there is a certain suspicion of theologies, spiritaialities, and rituals coming from other parts of the world and a conse-quenttemptation to control what Lithuanian Catholics are allowed to learn about. With radio, television, fax, and e-mail increasingly available in Lithuania, the democratization 6f infor-mation that is a part of mass communications poses dilemmas for a church only emergin/~ from the underground after years of iso-lation from news about developments in the life of the church. The catechists I visited in each bf the six dioceses .of Lithuania echoed these challenges and voiced their own as they, too, jumped from 0 to 10. When Lithuania became independent, church lead-ers faced a choice: either to begin religious insti'uctlon immedi-ately with ill-prepared teachers without any materials to work with or to do adequate preparation first but thereby risk losing the present instructional opportunity altogether in the quite possi-ble event of reannexation by Russia. They chose the first option. When I visited the catechetical centers in each diocese, cat-echists spoke of the great difficulties they were encountering as they relied on their memories of decades-old religious instruc-tion and tried to pass these fragments on to a new generation of youth with no current materials to help or guide them. Eventually the six dioceses succeeded in collaborating to produce a common catechetical curriculum and in translating some materials from Italy and Austria into the Lithuanian language. The catechetical centers were also. interested in working with the Catholic Television Center to produce s'0me good in'service materials for the catechists and some interesting lessons for the students. When I had completed my visitation of the six dioceses, I wrote a report mirroring the great gifts and the serious challenges 360 Review for Religious I had observed; I distributed it to the directors of the catecheti-cal centers. They were astounded at my report for reasons that amazed me. '"You told the truth," they said. They were not accus-tomed to that. In other professional settings during the occupa-tion, they were accustomed to "inspectors" who came with the primary purpose of criticizing what-ever they saw and who wrote reports that had no correspondence with the reality of their visits. Because of such experiences, the catechists told me, they had awaited my visits with a mix-ture of dread and anxiety. They were flabbergasted to read a report that not only reflected what they had said, but aqtually offered observations and reflections that they found helpful. This was a totally new experience for them. For my part I was astonished to learn how much they had accom-plished, fueled only by zeal, °with scant resources and very meager pay. They had even experienced outright deri. sion from atheistic teachers and stu~- dents. For me, these courageous and selfles~ catechists enfleshed the stories Like many of the other prisoners, this sister fashioned for herself a tiny rosary of hard crumbs of black bread strhng together by a needle and thread. Hid under the lining of her coat, it was never discovered. from the Acts of the Apostles describing the church's early efforts to spread the Good News in the face of extraordinary limitations and challenges from within and without. This difference in experience was one of the many times that I imaged myself as being on the other side'of a chasm from the Lithuanian people. Ways of being that I took for granted were totally out of their lived experience; their faith and courage in the face of adversity were often beyond my ability to compre-hend: For example, the director of ofle of the catechetical centers told me that her entire family was taken away from her and sent to Siberia when she was a small child. Spared this fate because of her age, she was put into the care of some women who provi-dentially were underground nuns. It was through their example that she grew in the faith that sustained her through the loss of her family and ultimately led her to leave her post as a university pro- May-June 1995 361 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania fessor and accept the bishop's invitation to direct a catechetical center, The women religious were the third group of people I was privileged to accompany and mirror. The major superiors had been made aware of the interest which the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) and other organizations had in their welfare, and they were eager to talk about their needs. They, too, had their stories to tell. One of these major superiors' told me that almost all of her early religious life was spent in prison. The prisoners were body-searched every day for any signs or symbols of religion. Like many of the other prisoners, this sister fashioned for herself a tiny rosary of.hard crumbs of black bread strung together by a needle and thread. Hid under the lining o.f her coat, it was never discovered. She still has that rosary; When she showed it to me, she said that her prison .experience was one of the most powerful God-experiences of her life. This sister and the other major superiors echoed what many others had said about needing to tell their stories and to experience healing of their memories. The sisters asked for resource people to come from America and other countries to help them psychologically, theologically, and spiritually. They were eager to learn about developments in theology, prayer, and spirituality in the last several decades of their "interrupted lives." They also expressed a strong desire to grow in leadership skills and in the skills related to the develop-ment of community life and ministry. In spring 1994, Sisters Carolyn Mruz OSF and Joan Klaas CPPS, both former general superiors, ioined me in Lithuania for the express purpose of providing input in some of the requested areas. Toward the end of their six,week stay, the sisters asked us to give them a day of recollection. When we inquired as to the usual length of such dhys, they replied, "We don't know: we've never had one before." Another chasm. In their final evaluation the sisters told us that.one of th~ best things about their gatherings with us, in addition to the input, was the opportunity they had to meet one ~another across com-munities. For most, this was their first experience of an inter-congregational gathering. During the years of occupation, when it was not possible to assemble, the sisters were not always sure who were members of their own congregations, much less mem'- bers of other congregations. When they did meet each other for the first time in spring 1994, it gave them great joy to discover 362 Review for Religious that they had so much in common. They learned that sometimes they were their own best listeners to each other's stories. And I, after ending each three-month period in Lithuania, came away feeling not only like Ruth with Naomi, but also like Mary staying with Elizabeth "about three months." Somewhere in those encounters and in spite of the chasms between cultures, languages, and experiences, there was a leaping together toward the life that is lived at the Center of Being, whether of the nation as a whole or of each person. Finally, I return to Nehemiah, who heard God's call to help in the rebuilding of the temple: "Then I said to them, 'You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem is in ruins, its gates have been burnt down. Come, let us rebuild the walls of Jerusalem and suffer this indignity no longer.' And I told them how the kindly favor of God had been with me, and also repeated the words the king had said to me. 'Let us start!' they exclaimed, 'Let us build',; and with willing hands they set about the good work" (Ne 2:17-18). Vignette The windows of the soul are clouded by hunger, and deeper wounds shrouded from our sight lie buried in the dark night. Foul birds of greed peck at the seeds of war And drop them to be sown in blood from Rwanda to Zaire. Martha Wickham ASC May-.~une 1995 363 ELIZABETH V. ROACH Community Today-- Idol? Icon? Gift? "I could do ministry without becoming a religious, but I want community," the new candidate says. Studies tell us that young people entering religious congregations today are looking for community. Formation directors work hard to provide healthy community experiences for them. Later, superiors general try to assign them to "good" commu-nities. Not only candidates but also men and women in religious life many years are approaching personnel direc-tors seeking "life-giving" communities. All this leaves lit-tle doubt that community has high importance for religious. If one thing is going well with us, it is the pri-ority we are giving to community. To question this trend might seem, if not audacious, perhaps impertinent. I believe, however, that a need exists for a closer look at the almost icon or idol status that com-munity enjoys today. My questions lie in the following areas: (1) In what "soil" did the present status of commu-nity grow? (2) Is it suffering from soil contaminants? (3) What are the gospel parameters for community? If you think I am about to come up with the answers, stop reading now. Then again, if you would like to delve into these questions, accompany me in my meditative mean-dering as I reflect on some questions that pebble the path. Elizabeth V. Roach MM works with three other Maryknoll sis-ters in a settlement area (40,000 people, no priest) on the edge of Panama City. Her address is Maryknoll Sisters; Aptdo. 813- 0343; Tocumen, Republic of Panama. 364 Review for Religious The "Ecological" History of Community Today Polluted streams mar our world. We breathe contaminated air. We read food labels to see what preservatives we are exposing ourselves to. We wonder what is in the water we drink. Why not investigate the "ecological" history of community? Where did community's current popularity grow and develop? Is there need for soil examination? Do we need to protect an endangered speci.es of community? I wonder if some of our present practice has developed, not from gospel roots, but from our environment of consumerism? Whether it is legislation bought by lobbyists, military secrets sold for profit, commerce with the fruit of a woman's womb, or designer drugs, we are a nation of consumers. Listen to us, the words we use. We speak of "mental-health consumers," "spin doctors," and "image" pro-ducers. This is the environment we live in. The nightly television news-cast would convince any visiting Martian that in our society just about anything can be bought. What has that got to do with our present practice of community? Maybe nothing, but similar remarks used to be made when ecologists questioned the purity of our lakes and streams. They were called alarmists. They were said to be exaggerating the dangers of industrial waste. As we seek commu-nity, it might not be amiss to ask how much the consumer envi-ronment we live in is affecting our practice and our working model of community. Maybe we need a quick inventory of our recent past. Even a brief glance at the 1960s shows that many people lived in a rigidly structured world. (When the protests for civil rights and against the Vietnam War began, many could not listen to what was being said. They saw rowdy, carelessly dressed, long-haired people as simply out of line.) Marriage was the order of the day. A "significant other" was something new. Rights of homo-sexuals and lesbian relationships were not acceptable conversa- As we seek community, it might not be amiss to ask how much the consumer environment we live in is affecting our practice and our working model of community. May-3~une 1995 365 Roach ¯ Community Today tion topics. Women who had babies outside of marriage were "unwed" mothers. There were jobs for men and jobs for women. Women were housekeepers, wives, and, yes, diaper washers. Police and soldiers were men. People who bought things were customers not consumers. One had property rights, but consumer rights, sexual-preference rights, and victim rights were unheard of. Abortion was illegal. Body parts, sperm, and wombs were not yet on the market. Spirituality and retreats had to do with religious practice, not feminist circles or marketing seminars. Between the '60s and the '90s came the "me" decade. We are no longer in the '60s. Social consciousness in the '60s meant advo-cacy for the poor, the disadvantaged, the needy. Now, according to Congressman Gingrich, social responsibility means legislation to relieve the taxpayer of politically burdensome aspects of soci-ety. We who live on the edge between modernity and post-modernity may be too caught up in contemporary tensions to examine the ingredients of our community cake mix, but uncon-scious consumption of contaminating elements may cause unex-pected illness. Our search for community is taking place in a world where repression of sexual and other urges is no longer the problem. We have entered a deconstructed world where issues of individ-ual rights versus community rights provoke new conflicts. "Gingrich thinking" is but one example of.this reality. Notice the differing opinions about the trials of the Mel6ndez brothers, Susan Smith, and O.J. Simpson. At the same time, violence, crime, child abuse, elderly abuse, and the "maybe we need to open more orphanages" mentality prevails. "Protection" is the buzz word of the 1990s, whether it refers to protected sex, more police in the streets, or a balanced-budget amendment. In the case of the United States, is it creeping into policies and procedures aboutwhom we will integrate or isolate according to how they fit or do not fit our concept of community? This is the environment we live in. Our concept of commu-nity may be, if not corrupted, at least affected by it. In more than one ~workshop, I have heard presenters say that, when we are changing ministry or community, we should take time to imagine ourselves in the situation and then ask ourselves, "Does it feel good?" That is the same question I ask when I try on a new pair of shoes. Given the psychological healthiness of reflecting on how a 366 Review for Religious change of ministry or community will affect us, what criteria shall we use? Is community just another consumer item? Is it like buy-ing a winter coat, a new car? What are the gospel parameters for community? Have you said or heard any of your friends say, "I have a min-istry, now I'm looking for a community"? Is community just another item on our shopping list, something to be acquired? How gospel-oriented is our practice? New Testament Parameters for Community Another glimpse of what we are about in our practice of com-munity might be gotten by filling out the application form that personnel directors ask religious to complete when they seek a change of ministry or community. Some congregations require these applicants to provide an evaluation from the community where they have been living. Applicants are also expected to state their expectations of the receiving community. The new com-munity's scrutiny leads to acceptance or rejection of the appli-cant. Try filling out one of those forms for Jesus as he hung on the cross (or for one of the apostles, or for Paul). What kind of com-munity evaluation could we submit for Jesus? He was complet-ing a contract and about to move into a new ministry situation. How would the evaluation of his recent community experience read? Would it say he took initiatives not supported by his local community? How would it describe his being abandoned by his colleagues? How would you rate him: (1) on following the con-sensus? (2) on his ability to (a) dialogue with Peter, his confrere? and (b) with local church authorities? (3) on his initiative (a) in going up to Jerusalem? and (b) in going to the garden that Thursday night? (What would you say if you had to write a community eval-uation of Peter, the one who failed so miserably in a community crisis?) Would you have approved of Jesus' "cross" initiative? Would you have questioned his discernment process? Would you have suggested further discernment and perhaps made him miss his hour? (Remember that John and Peter, his close friends, seemed a bit confused about his plans and even about what he was saying at the Last Supper.) May-J~ne 1995 367 Roach ¯ Community Today Palm Sunday Communities or Easter Communities Still another way to reflect on community would be to ask ourselves if we are confusing the group of disciples, those who hung out with Jesus before Good Friday, with the communities that flowered after the resurrection and Pentecost. The crowd that walked with Jesus before that Friday, the Palm Sunday community (apostles and disciples included), seems to have had many characteristics that are considered important for today's communities. Notice that Peter, James, and John were friends. Philip invited his friend Nathaniel to join the group. Does that ring a familiar bell? Is that a way of being integrated into our communities today? Do friends invite friends? In the episode about sitting at Jesus' right and left hand (Mk 10:35-45), similarities with current practice are even more evi-dent. That group looks like they are having a "community day." The apostles and disciples who would soon be walking with Jesus on Palm Sunday had together sailed the Sea of Galilee, hiked to Jerusalem, prayed, and shared ministry experiences. Was that an emergency house meeting they called to confront James and John on their inappropriate power seeking and failure to dialogue before lobbying for the first places? This, after the many excellent workshops they had attended!--workshops on ministry, mission, spirituality, interpersonal relations, theology, and Scripture, and all conducted by the best of presenters. So what happened? Why did that group .of apostles run for it when Jesus stretched out his arms on the cross? All their systems failed. Neither the community days nor the hiking, the theolog-ical reflection, the personal and community prayer, the work-shops, or even the friendship they had with Jesus held them together on that Friday--except for John and Mary and a few other women. That scene, I think, offers an essential .clue to the mystery of what Christian community is. While numbers of people had walked and talked with Jesus, they had not become a community. They may have been a support group: they did meet regularly. They may have been a club: mem-bership was limited and had its requisites. They may have been an interest group or a cooperative, for they participated in the same mission. But they were not yet a community. This they demon-strated on Thursday night when they scattered upon discovering that the big C Jesus was talking about was not community but the cross. 368 Revie~ for Religious Only Mary, John, and the women had discovered that the acid test of Christian community is the permanent, nonnegotiable fol-lowing of Jesus to his death. The hard realities that Jesus himself faced on Thursday and Friday, the aloneness, the abandonment, the dying, are essential elements that must be accepted, lived, and embraced if we are ever to become Easter and Pentecost com-munities. It is not just the warm, fuzzy feeling of moments when we are all together, the consensus evident, celebrating with song and symbol. It is also those dark, fearful, lonely moments of truth-telling in our communities, the utter .aloneness of difficult deci-sion making, the moments described in 2 Timothy 4:9-22, when Paul says "all" deserted him; "no one appeared on my behalf, but the Lord stood by me." It is also those other terrible moments when we~ like Mary and John, stand by our sisters and brothers totally incapable of under-standing .the why of a situation. Both reflection and personal expe-rience lead me to believe that, with-out following Jesus on the way of the cross, we may become interest groups, assemblies of friends, or financially cost-effective entities, but we have not the shadow of a chance of becoming Easter and Pentecost communities. Just look at the Easter community, that community huddled together in fear, in terror for their lives, humiliated by their sinfulness. Has any recent applicant to your community or mine said they want to join us because they are fearful or ~inful? And, if they did, would we accept them or recommend therapy? Yet it is the Easter community, terrified, humiliated, utterly scandalized by the cross, who discovered Jesus in their midst, their sins forgiveh, and their hearts overwhelmed with the joy of his peace. They knew why they were joyful. They could say Jesus is risen and truly here because they knew this;was the same Jesus who died on the cross. Peter's cheeks, the legend tells us, were fur-rowed by tears. Mary had held Jesus' bloodless corpse in her arms. John had stood by the cross. Has any recent applicant to your community or mine said they want to join us because they are fearful or sinful? And, if they did, would we accept them or recommend therapy? May-j~une 199Y 369 Roach ¯ Community Today That Easter community did not come to their consensus by applying the correct interpersonal dynamics for good communi-cation. They did not learn to hang together through attendance at workshops or by hiring a facilitator. While all these may help and no doubt do, there is no way they will ever substitute for the big C on which Jesus built the Easter and Pentecost community or the later communities of Acts. In Acts the community is a motley crowd. They invite all sorts to join them, magiciansand soldiers, preachers and widows. Their criteria did not come from enneagram numbers and Myers- Briggs profiles. (Had these been available, they might have helped resolve interpersonal conflicts--and these communities did include great differences of personality and lifestyle.) The important thing for them was willingness to lay down their lives because of their belief in Jesus' Way. The joy of those communities came not from something available in Greek or Roman markets, but the gift of Jesus' Spirit filling them with overwhelming peace and joy. That peace was pure gift. It happened when they followed Jesus' Way, the paschal way of death and resurrection. In apostolic and early Christian times, Christian community grew'and developed when followers of Jesus came together fear-ful for their lives, humbly repentant of sinfulness, bearing one another's burdens, and willing to die as witnesses to Jesus' living presence. They believed that Jesus, who died for our sins, had risen from the dead and was~truly here. They celebrated this in their gatherings. Only through this paschal living will our com-munities, too, become centers of peace, joy, and good news for all the world. 370 Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Called to Community ~ ~[ . ommunity~:P is an intrinsic element of the call to disci- ~ pleship." A statement such as this normally elicits little disagreement and little, if any, controversy. Whatever our par-ticular calling in life (religious, priestly, or lay), most of us rec-ognize the importance of some Eind of community to accompany us on our journey of faith. Simple agreement, however, does not always evoke profound understanding; it may even keep us from taking a deeper look at the meaning of our closest assumptions. How many of us, for example, actually understand our call to "community" as something at the Very center of our response to God? How many of us think of life in community as something intrinsic to our relationship to God, as something that actually leads us more deeply into the mystery of who God is? And how many of us actually advert to these ideas in the day-to-day cir-cumstances of our lives? Reflection on the nature of our call to community can enhance our vision of what our communal disci-pleship means and how it is to be lived out in daily practice. Vision and Call Everyone needs a vision in life. Call it a dream or a purpose; call it a goal or a sense of direction; call it a founding myth or a narrative of origins--whatever you call it, we all need something in our lives to help us make sense out of our experience and share it with others. One purpose of Christian community is to keep such a vision before our eyes and thereby encourage us to take Dennis J. Billy CSSR, author of fifteen articles for this journal over the course of ten years, writes ag.ain from Rome. His address is Accademia Mfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. May-June 199Y 371 Billy * Called toCommunity steps to live it in our everyday lives. It reminds us of the larger context of our lives and keeps us in touch with the traditions that have shaped us and to a large degree have made us who we are. It challenges us to confront the dark side of our human experience and to remain steadfast in our response to God's call in our lives. Communities come in different sizes and shapes. They do so because they respond to different needs within the church and reflect the vast variety of God's creation. Families and base com-munities, parishes and religious congregations, secular institutes and third-order sodalities all exist for a purpose and flourish when they respond well to the needs they seek to fill. Community is not something peripheral to God's call, as if its purpose were only to provide an atmosphere conducive to private personal spiritual growth or to respond to a need in our anthropological makeup. Christian community can and does provide for such things. It is meant, however, to be and to do much more. Life in community is intrinsically related to our journey into the mystery of God and is part and parcel of our Christian vocation. Community life loses its sense of purpose and conviction when it is taken out of the context of a call. Because the Christian vocation leads people into the Divine Mystery, it is inherently communal. Christian community and Christian vocation enjoy a close, reciprocal rela-tionship. It is impossible to have one without the other. By the term "vocation" I refer not to the more qualified sense of the term as a specific state of life in the church (that is, reli-gious, priestly, or lay), but to the call to intimate friendship that God extends to everyone, believer and nonbeliever alike. This call to beatitude (or to the "beatific vision," as previous genera-tions of theologians have phrased it) extends to all people, regard-less of their faith, nationality, race, or position in life. It involves the capacity all of us have to be lifted up through the influence of grace and to see God face-to-face. This mystical vocation which all of us share is sustained through life in community. Because God's nature is inherently communal, our call to divine friendship is worked out and perfected through a life lived with and ori-ented towards others. The Trinitarian Community The Christian tradition acclaims God as the perfect commu-nity of love. God--who has conceived of us, who has created us, 372 Review for Religious and who holds us in being--relates to us in a manner that images his nature. God, who is love, relates to us in love and cannot do otherwise. This is not the place to expound the vast intricacies of the doctrine of the Trinity. Suffice it to say that, however we describe this mystery of intimate social relations (whether through the traditional formulation of Father/Son/Spirit or through recent formulations such as Creator/Redeemer/Sanctifier or Ground/ Other/Bond), the mutual indwelling of persons must somehow be presented within the very nature of the Godhead. Although the mys-tery of God is inexhaustible and no single formulation can fully convey its meaning and depth, revelation teaches us that God is communal by nature, a single being of three clearly differentiated relations. When God is viewed in this man-ner, union with God becomes for us a never-ending journey into the intimate community of divine rela-tionships. All of this may sound rather abstract and unrelated to the daily concerns of life in Christian com-munity. To be sure, lofty ideas about the Trinity may'seem to have little practical value when it comes to the nitty-gritty tensions and concerns of communal living. We should not forget, how-ever, that the Trinity rests at the summit of the hierarchy of truths and, in fact, is the ultimate reality from which all else flows. The Trinity is the quintessential fact. It is not simply a metaphor, or a purely human construct, or a projectiqn of our deepest hopes onto a divine plane. It is an element of God's self-disclosure to humanity which, in its doctrinal formulation, has the status of a divinely revealed truth. The intimate community who is God and whom we call the Trinity is the beginning and end, the alpha and omega, of all things. It is the goal toward which we tend, the force that directs our lifelong activity on this planet, the reality that draws us to our final destiny. Life in Christian community is the primary way in which God prepares us to participate in the mystery of triune love. If it is true, as St. Augustine and many of the medievals thought, that Because God's nature is inherently communal, our call to divine friendship is worked out and perfected through a life lived with and oriented towards others. May-y-une 199Y 373 Billy ¯ Called to Community God has left traces or vestiges of the divine nature imprinted in the very fabric of creation, then one may point to life in Christian community as an important instance where a person can discover a reflection of God's hidden presence in the world. It would be presumptuous to expect that any of us would be ready or even capable of sharing in the intimate relations of the divine nature without a long period of preparation, Most of us will need to be led, step-by-step, along the long and narrow way of the Lord. Christian community, one might say, is the fiery forge in which God tempers our personalities and gets them ready to share more deeply in the fullness of the divine community. It stretches our character and challenges us to live lives that increasingly take others into account. To use an example from the Catholic mysti-cal tradition, it purges us of our imperfections, illumines us along our journey through life, and eventually brings us to a state of union with God. Life in community helps us to discover and become our truest, deepest selves; it naturally overflows in our relationship with others; and it shows us precisely what it means to be friends of God. Whenever we participate in community, we are really experiencing a vestige of God's triune love. The deeper we enter into it, the more we prepare ourselves for our relation-ship with God both now and in the life to come. Such is the role of Christian community, otherwise known as koinonia, that fel-lowship of God's friends we call "church." Given to us by Jesus himself and forever walking in his way, this circle of close disci-ples perpetuates itself by forging genuine human relationships wherever it goes. The Way of Jesus If the Trinitarian basis of Christian community is still too abstract a notion to give us practical guidance in day-to-day liv-ing, a more concrete example comes from the life of Jesus himself. A careful reading of the Gospels shows that he was always calling people to fellowship, especially those who were outcasts from the respectable social enclaves of his day. Prostitutes and tax collec-tors, the poor and the possessed, the blind and the lame were all welcomed by him and invited to partake in the friendship he shares with the Father. His gathering of disciples, his preaching through parables, his emphasis 6n table fellowship, his institu-tion of the Eucharist in the context of a meal, all reveal his deep 374 Review for Religious concern to provide others with a sense of God's gratuitous love and care for them. Jesus reached out to others simply because they were children of the Father and in need of God's friendship. He needed no other reason to call us his friends (Jn 15:15). Jesus' call to fellowship continues to this day. Now, as then, it is the perfect expression of the Son's intimate love of the Father. His fourfold movement of (i) entering our world (in the incar-nation), (2) giving himself away completely (to the point of dying for us), (3) becoming our very food and nourishment (in the Eucharist), and (4) being the source of our hope (in the res-urrection) is a concrete expression of the same selfless giving that characterizes the divine Trinitarian relations. Jesus' love for humanity reveals to us an even deeper love which he shares with his Father. This intimate relationship enables him to listen to the Father's concerns as a loyal and faithful Son. His humble response mani-fests the self-diffusive nature of God's love and discloses the underlying reason for the entire Christ event. Jesus' life provides us with an ideal vision of what life in community should emulate. Just as Christ entered our world and gave himself away completely, to the A careful reading of the Gospels shows that Jesus was always calling people to fellowship, especially those who were outcasts from the respectable social enclaves of his day. point of becoming nourishment and a source of hope for us, so we are called, both individually and in community, to enter the var-ious worlds of people around us and to give ourselves to them in a manner corresponding to Christ's sacrificial offering of him-self, to the point that we too become nourishment for them and a source of life-giving hope. This calling reveals to us the funda-mental meaning of our Christian identity. It' is accomplished not by ourselves alone, but by our cooperating with Christ working in us and influencing us by the grace of his Spirit. As might be expected, it is in the Eucharist that this process of divinization takes on its most concrete and visible form. There we gather as "church" around the table of the Lord and pray to the Father through the Son and in the Spirit. There we celebrate the fel-lowship of God's friends by reenacting Jesus' last meal on earth in its mystical identity with his sacrificial death the following day. May-3~ne 1995 375 Billy ¯ Called to Community There we welcome the presence of the risen Lord not only in our hearts and in our midst, but even in what we eat and drink. There we~celebrate the gift of "God among us" and recognize in the breaking of the bread that the Lord's vocation, like our own, is concerned with our becoming other Christs. Practical Realities These Trinitarian and Christological bases for life in com-munity do not of themselves remove the obstacles that often get in the way of our growth in the Spirit. The vision of what we can become and of what we are called to live is blocked time and time again by the fickle and obtuse human heart. As members of Christ's body, we recognize our divine calling to share in God's love and to carry on Christ's mission through time. We also rec-ognize, however, that human limitations and purely self-centered concerns often prevent us from living up to our noble aspirations. Sin in its various analogues--original, social, personal--distracts us from our mission and leads us into unholy compromises that sunder our vision and detach the remains of it from the practical realities of daily life. What follows are ten of the common diffi-culties communities face in their attempt to live out the implica-tions of their call. 1. Lack of Vision. Call it a lack of faith, a refusal to delve beneath the surface of things, an inability to see the close con-nection between the lives we live and the beliefs we espouse-- whatever you call it, a Christian community can easily get out of touch with its charism or very reason for existence. Vision. is a matter of both head and heart; minimal intellectual assent to the values and goals that originally called the community into exis-tence is not enough. Vision must seize the imagination of the members and generate in them a heartfelt desire to realize the community's objectives in their present situation. For this rea-son, a Christian community always needs inspired dreamers to keep the community's, founding vision in the forefront of its con-sciousness and prudent leaders to interpret this vision amid the practical exigencies of daily life. If the vision is not somehow kept bright and clear, the community loses its focus, dissipates its ener-gies, and eventually goes out of existence. 2. Dyoqtnctional Structures. Every community needs structures for its own good and the good of its members. Structures give 376 Review for Religious the community stability and enable it to function for a long time. Structures, however, can be a curse. If the community is not care-ful, its structures can in time lose their relevance and then inhibit the ways in which its members relate. The structures become dys-functional and deprive the community of the tranquillity it needs to live and do its work. Every community, therefore, needs to examine its structures periodically and change those that now are superflu-ous or needlessly obstruct the mem-bers' lives. Siflce there is only one perfect community (the Holy Trinity itself), communities should not be surprised to find some dysfunctional relating in their internal organization. The goal here should be to remove or minimize structures that are irrele-vant or cause some har

Issue 57.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1998. ; lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Cbristian lives. The articles in the jou.rnal are meant to be ~nformative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational,°written from a tbeologi.cal o.r spiritual Or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) 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 creatio.n of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joe~ Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Pa~icia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents 342 looking forward Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God Elizabeth Hillis OCD presents her own experience of encountering another religion as a valuable gift and a new way of deepening our faith in God, who is always greater' than our understanding. 354 Towards the Millennium Donald Macdonald SMM ponders the different a'pproaches to the millennium--through our focus on circumstance or our focus on Christ. 368 pioneers Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys Marion Norman IBVM presents, from the changing world of three and four centuries ago, two venturesome women as models of lived wisdom for the church and world of today. 387 A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life Mary Roger Madden SP draws a picture of Mother Theodore Guerin, a pioneer for the missions of the Sisters of Providence in the United States, who will be beatified on 25 October 1998. 33-8J Review for Religious 394 consecrated life Merger Issues and Ways to Address Them Beatrice M. Eichten OSF describes core issues involved when religious congregations seek some sort of merger and offers practical reflections on how to go about it. 4O7 Refounding by Honing the Purpose Concept Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR distinguishes two pursuits, purpose and values, and shows how such careful thinking can help religious in the renewal of their lives together. 419 living together Community: Intentional or. ? Catherine Harmer MMS clarifies the meaning of Christian community, with its four elements of support, challenge, accountability, and discernment. 429 Community Living: A Question of Balance Melannie Svoboda SND, on two continuums, sketches expectations and caring within religious communities and then offers individuals and communities some reflection questions. departments 340 Prisms 435 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Background and Development 441 Book Reviews ~dy-August 1998 Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you shall forgive. prisms One of the most moving moments for me during a meeting with women and men religious in Johannesburg, South Africa, had to do with forgiveness and reconciliation. One of the participants, an Augustinian novice director, observed that, just as the government had set up a Truth and Reconciliation Commission to bring a certain peaceful closure to the painful memories of the apartheid era, so it might be help-ful in the church and in our various religious congrega-tions to establish a similar kind of commission. He noted: "The differences in policies and practices among whites, coloreds, and blacks--in our memberships and in our min-istries, not just between parish congregations but even within a single province of women or men religious---have caused pain and left scars that a church or religious-life truth and reconciliation commission might go a long way to healing." A deeply reflective silence followed, and then a chorus of voices began to express a universal agreement among the white, colored, and black religious present that this agenda needed to be pursued in future meetings among the conference members. Our life experience tells us that we human beings do not easily come to forgiveness and reconciliation. We even find the gift of forgiveness by God the most difficult of God's many gifts for us to accept. Commonly we try to earn forgiveness; we attempt to "make up" for whatever we have done badly or left undone. Our behavior is just as consistent in our relations with one another as it is with God. It is often evident in the way we offer forgiveness: on Review for Religious the condition that the person--whether it is my brother or sister, my son or daughter, my friend or fellow worker--performs in a way to deserve it. And yet forgiveness is just that: a gift "given for" someone. Jesus made it clear through his parables and his example that forgiveness is first a gift from God--given for us--and then God invites us into sharing the gift by the way we live. God so much wanted us to share in the divine way of acting that in the prayer that Jesus taught, it is the only petition to which our personal actions are connected: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us." Forgiveness is so far beyond our ordinary human capacities, Jesus seems to indicate, that, we need to pray for the gift in every "Our Father" we say. On that first Easter Sunday evening, Jesus appears to his dis-ciples-- all locked up in fear--and offers first for their peace the gift of his Spirit. With the permanent gifting of the Holy Spirit comes the power for us to forgive. The church for centuries has seen in these very words the foundation of the sacrament of rec-onciliation. But, long before the sacramental system was clearly delineated, the church understood the gifting of the Spirit and the power to forgive as an essential part of our Christian living in peace. Like Jesus, we are meant to stand ready always to forgive. The old saw "to err is human, to forgive divine" is very true. Even with the baptismal and confirmation gift of the Spirit, we more often feel weighted by our human meanness than moved by divine forgiveness. At first we might be inclined to think of forgiveness as being about the past. But, just as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission may be recalling past happenings only to look towards the future of South African society, so God's forgiveness of us and our forgiveness of one another always look toward the future--the way we will relate and the way we will act. That is why, as we prepare to enter into the third millennium, we need to invoke the Spirit. For our wbrld of age-old hatreds and fresh hurts cries out for us Christians to give witness to the precious gift of forgiveness. Giving witness to forgiveness--that will be our new evangelization. David L. Fleming SJ ~ly-August 1998 ELIZABETH HILLIS Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God looking forward I am a Christian, a contemplative religious, yet for sev-eral years I have been learning about my God and about my faith from Hinduism. Is this a contradiction? Is it unusual? I do not think so. Religious pluralism surrounds us and allows us to cross boundaries that once set us apart from those who believe differently. Theologians study and write about how other religions experience God and the world; East-West dialogues have been set up between Christian and Buddhist monastic communities; in secu-lar and professional life we frequently encounter Hindus and Muslims, take classes in yoga, read about kundalini awakening, practice Zen sitting. How is the Catholic to grapple with the challenge to faith presented by such encounters? There is no easy answer, but from prayer-fully reflecting on my own experience I have gained some insights into this important adventure. First, I would like to make clear my belief that encountering.another religion is a valuable gift, that it is actually a divine call to open ourselves to a new way of finding ourselves in a world that is growing smaller, a new way of deepening our faith in God., who is always greater than our understanding. This gift may noF be for everyone, and it is seldom something we choose for ourselves. It just happens. Then we have to make room for it in our lives, room which may reorganize everything else. That is how Elizabeth Hillis OCD writes from Carmel of the Holy Family; 3176 Fairmount Boulevard; Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118. Review for Religious it was for me, and this article presents some aspects of what I have learned in the process. My first direct contact with Hinduism was through a medical professional whom I met in 1989. From my first meeting with her, I was impressed with something that I felt instinctively had to do with her Indian origin and her Hindu beliefs. What drew me to her seems to have been related to the quality of her silence and serenity. Though busy with her medical practice and busy with being a wife and the mother of teenage children, she seemed to. possess a poise and centeredness, an evenness of mind and judgment, a detached yet focused compassion for her patients and colleagues that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. She seemed to have a secret source of strength. She once gave this state of centeredness a Sanskrit name, sthita-prajna, and spoke of how she had seen this quality in her own mother the last time she saw her before she died. With her husband and children, she had returned to India to visit her parental home. Her mother had welcomed them joyously, but,. when it came time for them to leave, the mother was equally able to let them go. Her outward serenity seemed clearly to come from serenity within. It was the same quality that I had noticed in this woman. Stbita-prajna, written on a small piece of Post-it paper (that I still have!), was the beginning of my study of Hindu religious texts. My first reading was of the Bhagavad-Gita, probably the most pop-ular and widely read of all the Hindu scriptures, and that which is dearest to many Hindus. There, in the second chapter, I met stbita-prajna again, where K_rishna explains to Arjuna the qualities of an integrated person who can regard all things, persons, and experi-ences equally with detached interest. The Gita states: When a man puts from him all desires that prey upon the mind, himself contented in self alone, then is he called a man of steady wisdom. Whose mind is undismayed though beset by many a sor-row, who for pleasures has rio further.longing, from whom all passion, fear, and wrath have fled, such a man is called a man of steadied thought, a silent sage. Who l~as no love for any thing, who rejoices not at whatever good befalls him nor hates the bad that comes his way-- firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man. And when he draws in on every side his senses from their proper objects as a tortoise might draw in its limbs--firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man.~ ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism While this text does not represent the whole of Hindu thought, it does touch on an important element, the yoga (or practice) of renunciation. What is renounced here is not human activity or experience, but the tendency to attach oneself to human experi-ences in such a way that they destabilize the self. These are the "desires that prey upon the mind." Pleasures and sorrows, good and bad experiences, still come and go, but they no longer disturb the person who is established in the truth of the self (atman). Such a person lives in a state of equanimity, stbita-prajna, "steady wisdom" or stable consciousness. My friend had seen this in her mother, and I had seen it in her. In ~ubsequent conversations she explained her understand-ing of a related discipline, what the Gita calls karma yoga or the "yoga of detached action." All work is to be done with detach-ment because it is our duty. Attachment to the reward of our works ties us to what we do; nonattachment frees us from such bondage to deeds (karma). Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. (BG 3.19, p, 55) Furthermore, offering the work to God is a spiritual sacrifice that brings freedom. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, sur-mounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in success and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wisdom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (BG 4.22-23, p. 59) The Gita goes on to teach that the person who is stabilized in self, sthita-prajna, and who engages in d~tached action, karma yoga, has yet another step to take toward complete integration and freedom: devotion or bhakti. This is to make all existence, all action, a means of loving God. The god referred to in the Gita is Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, and it is he who instructs Arjuna: "Let him sit, his self all stilled . . . his thoughts on Me, integrated, yet intent on Me" (BG 6.14, p. 66). Thus the stabi-lization of self and the yoga of detached action are not enough by themselves to bring liberation: one needs to focus the mind and heart entirely on a personal god. Bhakti (loving devotion) is nec-essary; a surrender to the divine being both completes the task of personal integration and makes it possible. Review for Religious The source of all am I; from Me all things proceed: this knowing, wise men commune with Me in love, full filled with warm affection . To these men who are ever inte-grated and commune with Me in love I give that integration of the soul by which they may draw nigh to Me. (BG 10.8,10, p. 78) Steady consciousness, detached action, and loving devotion to a personal god, such are a few basic teachings of the Gita which might be an interesting parallel to the Christian path toward union with God. But I am not sure that the study of Hindu texts alone would have held my interest if it had not been for the liv-ing example and friendship of a contemporary Indian woman who was willing to share with me her own experience of her religion. In addition to our infrequent conversations, I had the witness of her own life, which concretely modeled what I~read. She partic-ularly exemplified the path of karma yoga by making offerings to God of her everyday actions: her medical practice, her care of husband and children, driving a car, shopping. I am not speak-ing here of a woman who was externally "religious" in an obvious way. She was far from any Hindu community where she might visit a temple or gather with others in .devotional rituals. Her home, her clothing, her habits were fully American. Her children attended the local public high school. Yet she was attempting to conform her life to the wisdom of the Gita, to live an integrated life as best she could, to work with detachment, to teach her chil-dren the values and beliefs she had internalized. Did she succeed? It seems to me that she did in a way she never planned. In November 1991 she was diagnosed as having a brain tumor, which in spite of all treatment slowly took every-thing away from her: her medical practice, her power of thought and judgme.nt, and even life itself. In this situation of tragedy, she asked, not (as we all might) "Why me?" but "Why now?" She regretted more than anything that she would not see her chil-dren grow up. Yet at the same time she struggled to live in a spirit of self-surrender, one day at a time, sometimes feeling better, often feeling worse. I saw in her a growing search for a hope that could take her beyond the limitations of her physical weakness. From time to time she asked her husband to bring her to our monastery chapel, where she spent time in silent meditation, sit-ting beside him or with one of her sisters who had come from India to care for her. She brought all of her family to meet me, to Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism talk about meditation, or to share her questions on whether to seek further treatment. She asked for the address of a place of prayer where she could make a retreat, though she was never well enough to carry out this i~lan. . For me it is significant that this Hindu woman found in a Christian monastic setting a place where she could experience peace and gain insight again into how to live her life fully to the end. We had never spoken of religious questions with a view to converting one another, and yet, with each other's help, both of us had grown in following our own path to God. I like to think that, just as her %lues and beliefs had deepened mine, the witness of a contemplative religious had helped develop in her the "devo-tion" to a personal god that she knew from the Gita: Whoso at the hour of death, abandoning his mortal frame, bears Me in mind and passes on, acdedes to my own mode of being; there is no doubt of this . Then muse upon Me.always. for, if you fix your mind and soul on Me, you will, nothing doubting, come to Me. (BG 8.5,7, p. 72) I have no evidence that my friend found consolation in this text of the Gita as I do now when I think back to her last months. There comes a time when we cannot accompany those we love in their final journey. But knowing that these scriptures were part of the fabric of her life makes me sure that their content and mean-ing had been internalizeddn the way that we Christians have sim-ilar texts engraved in our memory and our heart: "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest" (Mr 11:28). In~ the end the truths that we live by, and die by, are very simple. I miss Shobha. I know that in some mysterious way my life was changed by our friendship. But it was also changed by the religious encounter that was the context of our relationship. Since her death I have studied Hinduism patiently and perseveringly from many different perspectives, and I know that I shall con-tinue to. do so because, just as it did in the beginning through her, this encounter with another religion still constantly reveals God to me. I have taken some time to detail what "happened" to me. Now I need to question how I have (or have not) integrated it into my life. How do I remain a Christian and deepen my Christian under-standing and commitments by learning from Hinduism? How Revlew for Religious does anyone stay balanced when crossing the boundary that nor-mally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? I have formulated four guidelines for my own use, which could be applied to any situation of interreligious exploration, but which here I apply to my study of Hinduism. They are, briefly: (1) Take seriously the differences between my own tradition and that of another religion. (2) Pay attention to the details that I notice. (3) Follow the questions that naturally arise. And (4) keep looking back at my own tradition. First, I need to take seriously the differences between my Catholic beliefs, theology, and practices and those I see in a Hindu friend or read about in a Hindu text. Great injustice can be done both to my own self-understanding and to my real appreciation of the "other" if I look only for similarity of shared views or experience. We may have much in common, but there is probably a much greater area of difference. To over-look this, or to settle for a vague intuition of universal connectedness, is not helpful. It may even be harmful, and it is certainly not respectful of the other. It is usually not true that we are all saying the same things in dif-ferent words. Very often we are saying quite different things about the divine, about human life, and about the nature of human/divine interaction. I had to keep this realization in mind during my conversations with Shobha. It was necessary for me continually to ask myself what she meant by a certain explanation of her beliefs. I had to go to the texts she quoted and try to understand them as she did rather than separate out inspiring' thoughts that fit comfortably into my Catholic framework. An example is found in the texts quoted above from the Bhagavad-Gita and the Gospel of Matthew. In both places the words "come to me" are used, by Jesus and by Krishna. Yet the context shows that Matthew's Jesus is inviting his hearers to human discipleship in the present life, a discipleship which involves a specific sort of following, a willingness to learn of Christ, humility of heart, and the patient carrying of the burdens of life. On the other hand, the Krishna of the Gita calls the devo- How does anyone s tay balanced when crossing the boundary that normally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism tee to an inner concentration on his divine being, leaving behind any attachment to human life which could tie the soul to earthly existence and necessitate further cycles of rebirth. In both situa-tions divine comfort is offered to the person who approaches God in loving trust, but in one case the fulfillment given by Jesus is incarnational while, in the other case, material exis(ence must be transcended for the sake of merging with Krishna in his univer-sal form. On the surface it is natural that the words of Krishna would call to mind those of Jesus, but it must always be kept in mind that Krishna is not Christ, nor is his relationship to the devotee the same as that of Christ to the Christian disciple. It seems best to let the differences simply stand as they are. We can learn from the tension of holding these texts side by side and see-ing both what they are saying and what they are not saying. We also learn the detachment of letting others come to Krishna dif-ferently than we come to Christ. This recognition of difference leads into the second guide-line, to pay attention to the details we notice. It is in the details that we most frequently confront the differences that exist between religions. Although it may seem helpful to generalize about another religion in order to have a coherent way to grasp its tenets and the interrelationship of belief and practice, such generaliza, tion gives a false sense of mastery. It glosses over unwieldy facts which do not fit the pattern that a predetermined theology assigns to "non-Christian" experience. If we really want to take another religion seriously, it is worthwhile to read its sacred writings and hear what its followers have to say about themselves. This means attentive listening and openness to a diversity we might not expect. Unfamiliar mythology will frequently perplex us; moving rituals or insightful texts will possibly attract us; exotic practices may repel us. In one way or another, a good many unmanageable details will keep us aware that Hinduism is vast, complex, and varied in its expressions. It takes time and serious application on our part to identify and unlock the meaning of certain key con-cepts. Patient attention to the details we do not understand keeps us in a position of humility. There is much we may have to leave unexplored and unexplained. This is in itself a most respectful way of approaching the "other"--to acknowledge the mystery and to let it stand as it is. It is God we are meeting in this mys-tery of the other, God who acts in the lives .and values of real people who do not believe or think or Worship as we do, God Review for Religious whose grace is far more extensive than our theological constructs might have us realize. Details lead us to question what we are learning. It is impor-tant at this point to follow the questions that arise and to allow them to open new questions, new vistas of understanding, and new mys-teries of God that we cannot begin to penetrate. When the details make me aware that Krishna cannot really be considered a Christ-figure, that he teaches a very different sort of doctrine than Jesus, then I naturally begin to ask: Who is this Krishna? What is his origin? How is he human, how divine? What sort of deity is he? How do people relate to him, worship him, love him, serve him? Such questions are the heart of interreligious experience, but they probably cannot be asked until we have gone through the pre-liminary steps of taking seriously the other religion. As long as I do not consider Krishna to be an authentic deity for a con-siderable number of real people, there is a danger that I will consider him to be only a fable, a religious fiction that need not be reckoned with in a serious way. The situation becomes even more complex if I .begin to follow these initial questions and find that there is not only the Krishna of the Gita, but also the Krishna of north-Indian mythology and the Krishna of south-Indian devotional poetry. How are they the same deity and how different and how do the various strands of the Krishna tradition combine and intermingle? To find out who Krishna is will lead me to question what a deity is, how mythology is part of every religious figure, how story and experience and ritual play a part in the development of belief. These vast questions have opened up for me simply because I paid attention to details about a god who is foreign to my religious tradition. It soon becomes obvious that, to pursue these questions, one must study seriously. This is an important point because encoun-tering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. I need to use my mind in a careful and persevering way in order to enter into the world of the Hindu, who may seem to have Encountering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. ff~dy-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encounte~ing Hinduism human feelings of devotion similar to mine, but whose way of thinking about religious truths may be unlike any systematic approach familiar to me. Unless thought is explored by thought, there can be no real understanding of the other. To set ourselves to this task is, in one sense, to pursue an unrealistic goal, because the scope of another religion is so vast and the context so for-eign. Yet the very impossibility of the endeavor to think beyond our categories is what calls us to begin, in whatever small ways we can. To try to think with a Hindu about her beliefs, even by read-ing a sacred text she treasures, to set aside prejudgments that would restructure her beliefs in a Christian framework, to thoughtfully pursue questions about the differences we see, but without ever coming to the end of those questions, is to stumble into the vastness of God with a new appreciation of how very limited is the human grasp of Divine Reality. Vv'hen it is so difficult and time consuming to learn about another religion, why would anyone bother? The reason may be that there is an Other whom we do not know and curiosity leads us to investigate beyond what is familiar and comfortable. The exploration of cosmic space is an example of the insatiable need we have to go where we have never been, to understand what we do not yet know. In the experience of going beyond our bound-aries, an incredible miracle can happen. Our astronauts experi-enced it the first time they walked on the moon. It was the miracle of looking back and seeing the planet Earth as one single unit, not a globe divided into nations and territories. It so changed their view of life that, when they returned home, they were impelled to do all they could for unity among the peoples who inhabit the planet, to share their vision of the whole with as many as could receive it. A similar paradigm shift occurs when we try to step into the world of another religion: we see the human quest for God in a different way than before. It becomes necessary to work for a more reverent view of the religious "other." It is no longer possible to criticize or to compete or even to compare; in whatever limited way we can, we must seek to understand. Boundaries between countries and differences between religions will continue to exist, and such differentiation is healthy. But the boundaries can become permeable; the differences can contribute to increased self, understanding. The last step in the process of learning from another religion seems to be that it leads us to keep looking back at our own tradi- Review for Religious tion. Whether we start our investigation because we are curious, or because it seems a good thing to pursue, or simply because it "happens" to us, we will always find it necessary to look back. We need to be firmly grounded in our own tradition and to be deepening our roots continuously as we look outward. In my case, many years of pondering the Scriptures, the Carmelite mystical tradition, and other Christian mystical writings--and some famil-iarity with theology--give me a stable position for looking into Hinduism. I am spontaneously attracted to the writings of Hindu mystics, and these, in turn, call me back to well-known Christian texts that seem almost parallel in their expression of the search for God. Let us put the above-quoted text from the Gita on detached work alongside a maxim of John of the Cross: Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, surmounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in ~uccess and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wis-dom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (Bhagavad-Gita 3.19, 4.22-23, pp. 55 and 59) God is more pleased by one work however small, done secretly, without desire that it be known, than a thousand done with the desire that people know of them. Those who work for God with purest love not only care nothing about whether others see their works, but do not even seek that God himself know of them. Such persons would riot cease to render God the same services, with the same joy and purity of love, even if God were never to know of these. (St. John of the Cross, Sayings of Light and Love, 20)2 When texts are paired in this way, we can look back and forth between one tradition and another and gain from the light each one reflects upon the other. We see the obvious and important dif-ferences and the questions which these raise, but this need not prevent us from letting the two texts illumine one another. Francis X. Clooney SJ, to whom I am indebted for this insightful model of comparison, makes this comment about parallel texts: "As I read back and forth., each keeps showing me a way to the other, ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism and I end up with a doubled insight, a spiritual 'sense that goes beyond either text by itself. Pairing texts such as these creates a visual tension and emphasizes the enhancement of meaning occurring when we take our own tradition and another seriously and reverently, at the same time, together.''3 Such a bringing together of texts provides a way of integrat-ing our previous Christian commitment with any experiences that cross religious boundaries. Each encounter with the "Other" echoes back to something familiar even as it draws us beyond. We learn to look alternately in both directions without criticism or superiority, but in humble and careful appreciation. Actually what seems to take place when we look into another religion and then back at our own over a period of time is a weaving back and forth between the two in such a way that the ideas, texts, or expe-riences complement each other and intermingle fruitfully without distortion of their origin.al identity. We do not try to force par-allels, but merely look back and forth from one text to another where different traditions are attempting to grapple with com-mon questions about human experience of the divine. What I learned from Hinduism about sthita-prajna, about karma yoga, and about bhakti enable me to take a new look at detachment, duty, and devotion and at the freedom I have in sur-render to Christ. My frame of reference is not the same as that of the Gita; I am not a devotee of Krishna, but a disciple of Christ. Yet I believe I am a better follower of the gospel and a better reli-gious because of my contact with the Gita and with a woman whose life exemplified for me her Hindu beliefs. My questions about Krishna and what sort of deity he is lead me to look at what sort of God I worship and love and serve in Jesus. Without the vantage point of Hinduism, without (as it were) standing on the moon, I might not have had the perspective to look back and see in simpler terms the unity of my own Catholic faith and the rad-icality of my contemplative quest. I am certain that, without step-ping outside my own Catholic worldview, I would not have been grasped and changed by the vastness of God, who is very present in Hinduism in a way that will always be a mystery to me. The gift of encountering another religion is well worth the demands it makes on us in time, openness, vulnerability, or patient study. There is risk, but if we look back as well as forward, if we stay poised in the tension created by who we are as Catholic and how we are discovering God in non-Christian experiences, if we Review for Religious pay attention to differences, details, and questions, it is very pos-sible that we will be overtaken by the miracle of finding ourselves anew in a world of faith, where we learn from our non-Christian neighbor how very big God is. Notes ~ The Bhagavad-Gita 2.55-58, trans. R.C. Zaehner (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), p. 52. The Zaehner translation of the Gita is the most tex-tually accurate, but I quote with apology for the lack of inclusive lan-guage. The Sanskrit text meant "he" because it was primarily addressed to higher-caste males. 2 The Collected Vdorks of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), pp. 86-87. 3 Francis X. Clooney SJ, "In Ten Thousand Places, in Every Blade of Grass: Uneventful but True Confessions about Finding God in India, and Here Too," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 28, no. 3 (May 1996), pp. 1-42, esp. pp. 2-3. See also his "Praying through the Non-Christian," Review for Religious 49, no. 3 (May-June 1990), pp. 434-444, and his Seeing Through Texts (New York: SUNY Press, 1996). In chapter 5 of this work, Clooney gives many illuminating examples of parallel Hindu and Christian texts. Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363 or fax: 314-977-7362 L353.-- July-August 1998 DONALD MACDONALD Towards the Millennium Ibrecall a series of magazine articles on foreign travel written y people who had never been to the countries they described--this approach would be objective! The magazine was, of course, being humorous. But, in fast-moving times such as ours, we perhaps speak too glibly of the years ahead. Wisely, then, does Tertio millennio adveniente emphasize "preparation for." with a view to being ready for the psychological dynamism of a new beginning should it come. For it is better to examine the present moment with a view to the future than to just dream of what may or may not be. From the Christian perspective, we have the choice of cen-tering either on circumstance or on Christ. I shall sketch briefly what each of these choices means, and then examine them both at greater length. The center of gravity of mature individuals, it has been said, is always to be found where they actually are. Such people accept responsibility for and from the situation in which they now find themselves, even when it is a difficult one. While all of us grow older, not all of us grow up, and so not everyone manages to retain this center of gravity, this poise. We do not automatically mature. People try to avoid responsibility and look for the gap in the hedge. By profession, by publicly giving our word, we religious are considered to have invested ourselves in a group of people who have the intention of identifying with the will of God. Here we are Donald Macdonald S!VIM writes for us the first time eve~ from his native Scodand: Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead; G78 1TA; Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious meant to strike root, and growing maturity should help us exam-ine the present and future landscape from that perspective. In practice, then, our center of gravity is either in circum-stance or in Christ. Present circumstances, like the electricity bill, seem so real as to define reality; they appear so immediate that response to them seems inescapable. Yet, if we are always latch-ing on to current circumstance, reacting to what we think is hap-pening, we should not be surprised to find ourselves with the patchwork personality of a rag doll. It is almost impossible to have a center of gravity in forever changing circumstance. To drive a particular car, the advertiser tells us, means "You know you are a success." Equally the ecology lobby may suggest an indifference to our present environment. Fashions change even in church and religious life. Wise are the religious who never iden-tify wholly with what they are doing at the expense of who they are. To have even a toehold in the present, it helps to have a foothold in the past; "real development is not leaving things behind as on a road, but drawing life from them as from a root.''~ Taking our identity and sense of worth chiefly from present cir-cumstance can never give us such a root; hence, as the millen-nium approaches, there is a sense of rootlessness among many people, people who are subject to the tyranny of the contempo-rary. On the other hand, what is our perspective on life when our center of gravity is in Christ? The ministry [of Christ] has gone on for nineteen centuries and more, and it still goes on. What is the secret of its stay-ing power? The answer of the whole New Testament is that it is the risen Christ himself who is carrying it out. It is very easy for us, who have been brought up in a scientific age, to think of Jesus bequeathing his principles and ideals to his followers and leaving it to them to take up and carry on the task he is presumed to have laid down somewhere about A.D. 30. That is not the New Testament picture at all. There can be little doubt that, if it had been left to the disciples to take up tasks, their choice would have fallen elsewhere . No: the secret of the matter is that it is Christ who picks up the threads, Christ who takes the lead, Christ whose presence and power are one constant inspiration and strength. The resurrection means above all just this, that Christians do not inherit their task from Christ, they share it with him. We are not the successors of Jesus but his com- ~dy-August 1998 MacdonaM ¯ Towards the Millennium panions. That is the measure both of our privilege and our personality.2 Insofar as this insight of faith matures and truly becomes our own, we are taken out of ourselves into a growing realization of the gift of God in Christ in the present moment. This should be an endless source of wonder. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ--that we are in the church and with him in the church. Transfiguration into Christ should be seen as a real option. Generations of saints and the genuinely good prove it. There is a world of difference between "succes-sor" and "companion." If we have not matured in Christ, as the New Testament understands it, we shall never understand this, and that perspective will not be ours. We are then unable to see what is there in the present moment in Christ. We are left to look for meaning and purpose in life elsewhere, not least in response to circumstances over which we have little control. A Prey to Circumstance The first thing to be said about approaching the millennium under the tutelage of circumstance is that we may not see it. We may have died. We may, too, be ill or incapacitated. Our limited circumstances will be world enough for us then. Some of us may decide to jump ship to look for a safer berth outside of our order or congregation. This is understandable as a response to circum-stance. Circumstances change and we fear the changes. What will happen to us in the millennium? The thought of sitting among strangers all day in a home for the elderly run by the town coun-cil, with little status and less independence, can really frighten us. Seen as changing circumstances, the millennium means inse-curry. That then, for the first time since our prot~ession, we might find ourselves genuinely "poor in fact and spirit" (Perfectae cari-tatis §13) might weigh little against our fear of radically changing circumstances. We will likely feel bullied and frightened as the coming millennium takes us into an unfamiliar world that we can-not control. We may also be afraid of the changing culture, particularly in the West. The values which to some extent have formed us and to which we have tried to give our lives may increasingly be pushed to the edge. The sales person with a product nobody wants is in Review for Religious a frightening position. Contemporary movers and shakers who set the pace and seem to write the agenda for living may marginal-ize us. The millennium may see us, then, washed further up onto the shore of utter irrelevance. Who are we then? From a Christian standpoint, there is a progressive coarsen-ing of life generally. The positive values of our culture--built on our Judeo-Christian ethic, however imperfectly practiced--have hitherto managed to order relationships between individuals, neighborhoods, bureaucracy, law, and society. Shared assumptions mapped out life around us. This is now changing. The unborn, children, and the elderly are particu-larly vulnerable. The intrinsic dignity of individuals as created by God and redeemed by Christ, along with that dignity's call for respect, is under increasing pressure as the gospel light which illumined human reality is dimmed. Tabloid newspapers and media culture generally appear to be governed by "the bottom line." People are treated cruelly and privacy is invaded as the poor and immature are exploited to make a dead-line. The worldwide picture seems even worse. Power, money, and sex have always been dominant in human behavior, but the pounds, francs, and dollars purchased in that world are often at the expense of the basic currency used there--people. Inevitably, reli-gious whose identity is primarily from circumstance will be influ-enced when not overwhelmed by this. They may approach the coming millennium in a state of free-fall, with numbing fear rather than challenging expectation. Contemporary culture is not wholly negative. The concern for our global environment is a positive value without being made an ersatz religion as well. There is, too, an active social concern to better the lives of people worldwide. But even here, with icons like Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, and many a selfless Christian neighbor, the picture painted is often of the church scrambling to catch up with something contemporary and worthwhile whose impetus comes from elsewhere. Whether this is true or not is beside the poin.t to people who take their cue. mainly from the present situation. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ. y~uly-dug'ust 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium A further positive value is a growing awareness of transcen-dence and the spiritual. The church, which religious represent and which, one might think, could offer so much here, is again dis-advantaged. A common perception is that the Christian religion emphasizes morality at the expense of spirituality whereas Buddhism, for example, gives primacy to spirituality. It is sad to see this, but in practice it is often the gospel as lived and preached even by committed believers. The Pauline way of centering first on Christ, and then from within that companionship being open to life regardless of circumstance, is far from universal in Christianity as commonly experienced. There is often no real understanding of the motivation for Christian behavior. Religious marked with that lack are handicapped in approaching the mil-lennium. We cannot bring to the millennium values we do not yet have. An increasing desire for the spiritual cannot be met by religious who do not know how to mine that seam from within the past aiad present of their church. Whoever thinks of the future must be concerned with the worrying question of vocations to religious life. In much of the world, families are becoming smaller. The two-child family is not especially suited to being the home of vocations to religious life. And, with family relationships frequently breaking up, the home is not often a likely place for the nurture and support of religious vocations. Against this background the'shortage of candidates cannot just be put down to "bad" men and women religious not living up to the evangelical life to which they are committed. Young people growing up in a sometimes decadent media/pop culture readily get used to being fed on a diet of having rather than giving. "What's in it for me? It does nothing for me! The magic's gone! I'm too young for responsibility!"--such words, all turning on the idea of self-fulfillment, do not create a seedbed for future vocations to any form of adult Christian life. Long-term, open-ended, lifelong commitment is increasingly rare in contemporary culture. Nothing lasts. You are always let down. In nominally Christian communities, many adults do not mea-sure up and do not take responsibility for where they are. The increasing spread of what is held to be politically cor-rect can suffocate an authentic gospel life. The young, especially, need vision and courage if they are not to succumb, in an endless succession, to one or another flavor of the month. Often what is politically correct may not be evangelically right. A newspaper Review for Religious" cartoon, for example, shows a schoolboy buying cigarettes and asking the shopkeeper to wrap them in a copy of Gay News--an acerbic comment on a government policy advocating sixteen as the minimum legal age for homosexual relations while holding to the age of eighteen for buying cigarettes. In webs of circumstance like this, many young people may not be able to hear a call to religious life that is otherwise clear and inviting. Another problem today is that for many young persons the test of reality is how they themselves experience life. No one, particularly no authority figure, is going to tell them how to live their life! They are free! Vv'hat counts is what is trueJbr them. Reality is what they feel it is. Drawing upon a wealth of 20th-century experience, they are chary of giving ourselves to a guru, whether secu-lar or Christian. From the infamous results of "only obeying orders" to the pain caused by religious guides with feet of clay, the path is littered with casualties, and the hurts go deep. What people do not so well defend themselves against--and it can be just as damaging--is losing, unawares, their freedom regarding some contemporary matters, matters about which they adopt unthink-ingly the politically correct answer. The fetters here can hold as firmly as any medieval mindset is alleged to have done, and the damage may be terminal. To vow ourselves to God in religious life means that, to a greater or lesser extent, we commit ourselves to an overarching tradition and to a particular superior. Few people like constraint, and today God, parents, teachers, and other authority figures are often treated with pointed disrespect. There seems to be a com-pulsion for people to assert themselves in opposition to them, whereas nonauthority figures are often worshiped and can take us where they will. If the surface aggression is paramount, there is litde place for trust, and so a genuinely gospel community can-not be built. If this immaturity is carried to the approaching mil-lennium, there will be an inbuilt fault in the foundations of whatever we attempt to create. In the church, superiors are sometimes seen as the unaccept-able face of religion. Yet someone has to be willing to take the The increasing spread of what is held to be politically correct can suffocate an authentic gospel life. J~dy-August 1998 Macdonald * Towards the Millennium responsibility, especially in our unsetded times. It may cost much. The superior, in thrall to circumstance, will suffer particularly, always presupposing his or her own integrity while in office. A for-mer provincial superior, reflecting on his time in office, said; "One loses one's innocence when one is in a position of author-ity. Would it were otherwise"--but he notes that the great major-ity are not the cause of his hurt.3 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, archbishop of Westminster, spoke of being misunderstood, misrepresented, disliked, criticized, and written off as a disaster.4 (Of course, this kind of thing, in today's jargon, "goes with the territory," but also is not always unde-served.) Yet now he has come to see such suffering as really a blessing. The disguise may seem impenetrable, but the blessing is there. When circumstances chastened and hurt him despite his best endeavors, he found it a marvelous way to grow in the Spirit. In the situation he came to see that only the gospel lasts. Everything else falls away, and ultimately he is graced with the realization that there is only the fidelity of God in Christ to be relied on. St. Paul, writing from prison, would agree: "God. has gra-ciously granted you the privilege (charis) not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well" (Ph 1:29). When we feel hemmed in and hurt by circumstance as we approach the millen-nium, it would help immeasurably if we were at home with the small print of the gospel. It really does translate experience for us--provided that we focus in any and every situation not on cir-cumstance, no matter how immediate, but on our risen Lord. The Company of Christ and Each Other As the basic guide for religious "is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel" (Perfectae caritatis §2), it follows that to attempt this we need to know how to approach the New Testament, where the authentic portrait of Christ is to be found. We should test the assumption that, come the millennium, we will really know how to do this. It is the claim of Pope John Paul II that, given "the prayerful and meditated reading of the word . . . a humble and loving lis-tening to him who speaks., one's own vocation can be discov-ered and understood, loved and followed, and one's own mission carried out.''s This is a major claim, but the Holy Father rein- Review for Religious forces it when he says "the person's entire existence finds its uni-fying, radical, meaning in being the terminus of God's word." That is to say, if we mature into habitually, instinctively being a terminus of the gospel, all the threads of a situation and the capac-ity of life to shock or puzzle us will be brought together; whatever lies deepest in us will be reached; and we will be given to see pur-pose in life. For many this is but a worthy platitude, notionally true but factually unreal. Yet the claim stands. If we can find our way to becoming a terminus of the word of God, we will not nec-essarily have a trouble-free life, but we will be given a security which jostling circumstance cannot unsettle. We are, as has been well said, then in touch with the Pilot. Imagine if we approached the millennium from within that perspective, knowing it to be true! A cameo, chiefly from a few verses of Philippians 3, gives us a glimpse of how this might be done and of the dividends to be gained from doing it. From prison St. Paul wrote to his people in Philippi to thank them for remembering him there and for gen-erously sending one of their number to help and encourage him. The backdrop to the letter (and, in truth, the foreground to Paul's understanding of community) is soon stated: "I thank my God . ¯. for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now" (1:3,5). Invariably it is "us" with St. Paul, never "me and you" unless he is forced to "speak like a fool" in defense of his stand-ing as a genuine apostle. This fellowship (koinonia) between Paul and his people, which stems from the realization of their oneness in Christ through baptism, is the overall context in which the interchange of the letter takes place. When, as here, it is under-stood and reciprocated, it both thrills and puts new heart into him. He writes from within the strength of that relationship to encourage it and further it. That insight of responsibility for each other in Christ is as valid today as then. If we approach the millennium determined to make our baptismal fellowship real by investing ourselves in the c.ommunity, we will communicate, at a deep level. It should be a priority and is well within the competence of most of us if, for example, it is expressed in a word of appreciation, a word of sym-pathy, a word of encouragement, a word of thanks. These are the building blocks, and the present moment is the time and place to lay them. As we know from experience, a word "in season," when genuinely meant, does really help and might encourage us and ~tly-Augttst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium those around us to reach and welcome the millennium. "Friends are facts, and the good things you have done to them are facts," said G.K. Chesterton. This is time usefully and evangelically spent. Only insofar as we mature in Christian life will we do this and be able to sense how shoes pinch other people's feet. St. Paul writes of his present situation: "I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things" (3:8). The verb suggests total loss as in shipwreck or business failure. Everything has gone--family, status, career, security, good name. He writes from prison now. Initially he was compelled to leave Philippi after being given the standard flogging for a trouble-maker. His present situation follows the same pattern. Then, as now, circumstances are none of his choosing, but in the situation, as Cardinal Hume and many others found when similarly placed, he finds God in Christ: "for his sake I have suffered the loss of all things., in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him" (3:8-9). He is in fact in prison, but Paul knows that he is in Christ! There is his center of gravity. From the viewpoint of circumstance, his fidelity to the call of God's providence in Christ has wrapped him in rags and insecurity. The same situation, seen from the insight of faith, is altogether worthwhile, for it enables him to "gain Christ and be found in him." This is a superb place to be, with an enviable grasp of reality. What a center to move out from! Religious approaching the millennium would do well to try to make that perspective theirs. Whatever the circumstance, our risen Lord is there. We date the present from the moment of Christ's birth. He is our companion now. Each moment of each day as well as the millennium finds us wanting "to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suffering by becoming like him in his death" (3:10). The verb implies close identity, and again transfiguration is offered as a real possibility. Paul discovered this not by whisding in a cemetery or in a library, but by applying the insight of faith to the circumstances of every-day life, good days and bad. Attempting in such company to become a terminus of the word of God offers us virtually unquan-tifiable dividends. Finally, for our purposes, Paul says, "I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own" (3:12). Again the situation is prison. Paul writes of racing to the finish of a race Review for Religious when in fact he is not going anywhere without his jailers' per-mission. The marathon of the Christian life which he entered at baptism is not particularly concerned with going from A to B to C, Rather, it means interpreting the present situation through a progressive deepening of understanding of what it means to be in Christ, There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Even in the isolation of crucifixion, if life is so cruel, even there we are nailed to the cross with Christ. Paul says that he has not yet fully matured in Christ. There is always more to be sounded in those unfathomable depths. The dynamic here is the wonderful realization that "Christ Jesus has made me his own." He wants to hold as he is now being held. Held within the security of his Lord who rose from a grave to make him "his own," Paul is a driven man. He is aware that his present situation may cost him his life--"I am being poured out as a libation" (2:17)--but it can never separate him from Christ. From this unchanging center, there is much more to be received and, within himself, much still to be surrendered. So, from within the security of his risen Lord whatever the circumstance, Paul is "still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (3:14). The imaginative appeal Of the imagery comes from an imprisoned Christian individual writing a letter of thanks and encouragement to his no doubt frightened people. So much seems to go so wrong so often. Yet he would have them think as he does: "Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind" (3:15). Just what does he see? Religious who would be more mature as they approach the millennium could usefully examine their situation from that perspective. Does that insight interpret life for us at any level? Baptism into Christ means an invitation to a present relationship with God through the Spirit, not just loose membership in a particular group. Religious life has no other purpose than to invite us to enflesh that in ourselves by attempting to live for God alone at one with his will. The experience of St. Paul in times past is not without value, but what if it could be mine now? Understood from within a Spirit-graced Christian community, it pays altogether richer div-idends. It is not just an example of what someone did then, but an There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium invitation to consider what we can do now. This is interpreting life in the light of the gospel. Unifying, radical meaning is on offer here to those who try to be habitually open to receive. In Christ ours is a present reality. We are his companions, not his succes-sors trying to make what we can of a long-dead tradition. Accordingly, "to mature" means here that we have Someone to give and someone to be. This is not the least of what we can bring to the millennium. If we stay rooted in Christ, into whom we have been bap-tized, we can come to know that immediate circumstance is not all there is in defining present reality. There is no need to approach the millennium like stunned rabbits caught in the headlights. In Christ there is a vast arc of gospel fellowship among the living and the dead, all held in the present moment. We are one in Christ with so very many; and, if we can mature in their faith, we shall be given to see meaning in life. Rather than consider the millen-nium a milestone to be reached at a future date, a milestone that is being surrounded more and more by the massed choirs of the advertising media, why not stay where we are now in Christ and let the millennium (as indeed any circumstance) come to us? Always to be in the one place in Christ!--our center of gravity, our spiritual focal point, can only become more secure as we more and more see God giving himself to us there in Christ. This is where we are. We can then try to interpret circumstance through our risen Lord, knowing that, whether life is good or ill, we are never without the power of his resurrection or the fellowship of his suffering. Travel Light This is not to ~dvocate the passivity of a cow in the field. How could it when the reality of our life comes from our risen Lord who has made us his own? This is energizing, delightful presence, compelling us to be enlivened by it. Whatever a future calendar date brings, it cannot break that firm bond. Ultimately, it is all there is. We then want to make Christ really our own as he has made us truly his. For religious this should mean a hard look at our rule or founder's insight in the light of the gospel. We may have accumulated much. A mere middle-class lifestyle-- without the potentially maturing presence of husband, wife, or child--will not attract or challenge others. Should we not travel Review for Religious light to the millennium? Circumstances may be stripping us of much that we are attached to and find hard to give up, but we can nonetheless choose to drop even more. More has to be done to make our fellowship in the gospel a practical, reality. Arguably, the word community is heard now more than ever before, although there seems to be less of it. Religious profess to find God's will among a particular group of people. But only insofar as the risen Christ is real to them do imperfect individuals, living among others also imperfect and even dys-functional, have the courage to attempt this. If anything is to come of it, then, Christian maturity is essential. Without it we have nowhere to come home to--and indeed no one to be. It is no small achievement to welcome the millennium in the company of Christ and in full awareness that this company is all we have. How best to have this awareness in changing circumstances and amid lessening numbers is a problem. It is for different people to find various solutions in view of their temperaments and God-given gifts. No one can read the future, but, as T.W. Manson pointed out earlier, we are Christ's companions and the initiative of the entire gospel enterprise lies with him. There is no future for the maverick away from Christ. Inspirational individuals will always be found among those who habitually listen to the gospel, wishing to follow wher-ever it leads. Risk, challenge, and retrenching may be factors in an apostolate for the millennium. Community, it has been said, should be more like a hive than a nest. Ultimately, if the millennium finds us in Christ as the gospel understands this, we shall reflect his presence there. The pres-ence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. Circumstances change and situations sometimes frighten and even crucify, but the underlying reality for those who see with eyes of faith is the presence and power of our risen Lord. Here is where we live and move and have our being. We let life come and find us here. But we cannot do this complacently. We must foster a growing sense of awe and of our good fortune. The more real this awareness of presence is, the keener are we to share it with others. The sacraments (not least the Blessed Sacrament) are realities of presence, and we should try to share The presence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. d~lly-Augvtst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium what we find there. They feed us as our life progresses. They are glimpses of life at the heart of our community, and they reflect mystery at the heart of reality. There is much more here than we can see, even graced by the insight of faith. As companions of Jesus, one with him and each other through baptism, we need to try to bring gospel fellowship to people in ways they can understand. Circumstances had Paul in prison miles away from his anxious people. To encourage him they sent one of their number. To thank them he wrote them a letter. They did what they could in less-than-ideal circumstances. Although cir-cumstances do not allow us to do all that we would like, we should not be discouraged from trying to do what we can with what falls into our hands. Remember, the initiative is from the presence and Spirit of our risen Lord. When we are open to his presence, we find we have a community; we have Someone to share. The millennium offers a challenge, and one of the best ways to meet it is for ourselves, our individual selves, to really make Christ our own and so try to be found always in him--and then to give from that center and invite others to meet Christ there. Our Lady and a cloud of saints once lived this life of faith, and, whatever the reasons for moving their statues from our churches and communities, we should again savor their company now in Christ. In the fellowship of the gospel, they can be real and not static presences. Many a secular idol will be worshiped as we approach the millennium. The Christian community can offer more than that. It was individuals sharing with others what they themselves had been inspired to see of the gospel who thereby inspired oth-ers so that even more followed and formed our various religious orders and congregations. We present-day members, perhaps feel-ing our lack of inspiration or vision, would do well to recognize our situation for what it is. If we are afraid, let us admit it, but let us not focus on fears without bringing to them the faith vision that so helped Paul and his people. For them this was no theo-retical exercise. It. could be equally real for us. "A loving knowl-edge of the word of God and a prayerful familiarity with it are specifically important for the prophetic ministry," says Pope John Paul. This echoes the conviction of the best in the church over centuries. This insight had and has now the power both to form an elite and encourage the frail. Review for Religious i G.K. Chesterton, The I~ctorian Age in Literature (London, no date), p. 12. 2 T.W. Manson, The Servant Messiah (Cambridge University Press, 1953), p. 98. 3 R. Rolheiser OMI, "The Last Word," The Catholic Herald (London), 4 July 1997. 4 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, "Reflections on Leadership" (keynote address at Conference of Religious, 1997), Signum, 20 February 1997, p. 10. s John Paul II, Pastores dabo vobis, 1992. This and the next two quo-tations are from §47. Spirit Prayer Spiritt. Holy! Stirring birds and buds and Buddhists, Moving mothers, monks and Muslims, Turning wheels and churning waters, Shifting rocks and shaking ridges, Sweeping fields and forests, Raising bread and bodies, Spinning dreams and dancers, Whirling clouds and clowns, Filling sails and souls, sifting, Sounding, Singing, Sighing, Spirit, oht. Do what you do, Dance where you dance, Blow when you blow, Move us to move, To break from the laze of our days At the Word we have heard, With the Breath that will lift us from death. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ j~dy~August 1998 MARION NORMAN Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys pioneers Wisdom, which in biblical literature is usually personi-fied as a woman, is described in Proverbs 8:12-14 as "mis-tress of the art of thought" who shares house with Discretion; hates pride and arrogance, wicked behavior, and a lying mouth; and is a source of good advice, pru-dence, and perception. The Hebrew words for wisdom and wise man (hokhmah, Ex 36:2, and hokham, Jr 9:23) are used in various ways throughout the Old Testament to connote the skills needed to carry out tasks successfully. Hokhmah implies a deeper quality than cleverness, and hokham means not a clever know-it-all but a sage, one who, having acquired knowledge of the world and human nature, can penetrate to the depths of the human situa-tion, seeing it as a whole and then sharing that vision by giving prudent advice or immortalizing it in the form of proverbs or aphorisms. The prophet Jeremiah declares, "Let not the wise man (hokham) glory in his wisdom; neither let the mighty man glory in his might." In rabbinic literature, however, the wisdom of Proverbs has come to refer to the "wisdom of the Torah,". and the wise man now becomes the scholar Marion Norman IBVM (Loretto Sisters) presented this paper, here slightly revised, at the International Mediaeval and Renaissance Conference in Banff in May 1997. Her address is Loretto College; 70 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario MSS 1J3; Canada. Review for Religious well versed in the Torah. The identification of Torah with wisdom dates from Deuteronomy (4:4-6): See I have imparted to you laws and rules, as the Lord my God has commanded me, for you to abide by in the land which you are about to invade and occupy. Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and dis-cernment to other people, who on hearing all these laws will say, "Surely that great nation is a wise and discerning people." Thus, from originally implying little more than technical abil-ity, wisdom took on moral and religious connotations. In time it became synonymous with reverence for the Lord, as expressed in the Book of Proverbs: "Reverence for the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction" and "Let your trust be in the Lord. to show what is right and true" (Pr 24:7, 22). Hebrew wisdom was not alone in leaving its indelible mark on Western culture. Greek and Roman wisdom (usually referred to as philosophy) played a significant role as well, as did the leading Hellenistic philosophers, who claimed to teach their disciples how to live by providing moral instruction about what was right and wrong and how best to carry out their duties as individuals and in social relationships. Early Christianity perceived a certain affinity between its own aims, as expressed in the Sermon on the Mount, and those of Judaism and the best Greco-Roman philosophies. All three strains had a great influence on Western culture and, at the time of the Renaissance, came together to provide the intellectual, social, and religious context for the kinds of wisdom exemplified by the two 17th-century women of wisdom who are the subjects of this study. My selection of them has not been arbitrary. That the Bible even more than the Greco-Roman classics has' been the principal source of inspiration for both readers and writers of English lit-erature has long been recognized. Little wonder, then, that the biblical ideal of wisdom was carried over into the conduct of peo-ple's daily lives. This was particularly true of women, who, deprived of formal education in the s~ven liberal arts (reserved almost exclusively for males), relied on biblical primers and the Bible itself as their sole textbooks. We read, for instance, of female servants, shopkeepers, and housewives, especially among the Puritans, painfully acquiring a knowledge of the original biblical July-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom languages for better access to the scriptural message. And, with the greater availability of biblical texts since the invention of printing and the Reformers' stress on the Bible as the "sole rule of faith," reliance on individual inspiration assumed central sig-nificance. The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and imple-ment it as it was spelled out in the Torah. Each of these two 17th-century women received intimations of the direction in which the Lord was leading her, and, responding with docility and trust, received further clarification about God's plan for her in her own daily living. The response of Mary Ward (1585-1645) and Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700) to God's invitation had implications both negative and positive. It meant, first of all, rejecting the usual pattern of marriage and family in favor of an exclusive conse-crated discipleship, freeing them for the service of the entire Christian community. This, in turn, involved a readiness to leave home and country if God asked it of them. Mary Ward For Mary Ward, at a moment in English history when adher-ence to the traditional religion was proscribed by the state and its preservation imperiled, the immediate need, as revealed to her by God and further discerned by experience, was for a total and free commitment to God that would flow out into love for oth-ers. She felt empowered to reach out to new needs and to devise whatever might be required to meet those needs. Inevitably, how-ever, the wisdom imparted in her close union with God in prayer entailed "the rejection, in whole or in part, of older, conventional patterns and methods that were no longer meeting new needs and situations. The clash between fidelity to divine guidance and official representatives of authority, as in the case of earlier bib-lical prophets like Isaiah and Jeremiah, was inevitable. Mary Ward's own response, which she constantly urged on her com-panions as well, was single-minded and unequivocal: "After busi-nesses I go to find myself in God, without any will or private interest and with a will only to have his will, which I cease not till I find."1 Mary understood this open and faithful orientation to God's will--desiring solely to love God and refer all actions to Review for Religious him--as adapting to the lives of consecrated women the lifestyle the church had already approved for Jesuits in their Formula insti-tuti. Precisely what this would entail was not revealed to her at once. In the first half of the 17th century, the cultural climate cre-ated by the Puritan and Parliamentary ascendancy brought forth a highly vocal group of educational reformers such as John Milton, John Dury, Marchmount Nedham, Samuel Hartlib, and Jan Comenius. At the same time the new scientific movement-- inspired by Francis Bacon as spokesman and promoted, under royal sponsorship, by the Royal Society of London--put Britain in touch with parallel interna-tional movements in France, Italy, and elsewhere. Voices of dissent were not failing, moreover, to speak out coura-geously on behalf of neglected groups of people--especially children of the poor and girls and women. These asserted, by their writings and actions, the rights of the counterculture against the prevailing climate of opinion, including the tendency to denigrate women. It is in the light of such conflicting views on the aims, con-tent, and methods of instruction that the enlightened and coura-geous leadership of women of wisdom like Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys should be seen. Although 17th-century politicians, theologians, and educational theorists were united in seeing the inadequacy of the current educational system to meet changing needs and priorities, they could agree on little else. Neither Francis Bacon nor John Milton apparently perceived women's education as necessary or even desirable. None seemed to see the value of preparing future mothers who would be responsible for the basic training of the young as future morally responsible and loyal citizens. For English Catholics the educational situation was particularly critical. Harassed politically, sodally, and economically and denied access to such employment as their rank and abilities deserved, they were crippled by taxes for nonattendance at Anglican services and threatened with imprisonment or death for possessing Catholic The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and implement it. July-Aug~tst 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of V~dom books or providing accommodation to priests or Catholic instruc-tors. At an early age their children were forced to seek schooling on the continent, facing for up to nine years the loneliness, the foreign customs, languages, and climate, and the other handicaps of exile. Those without the necessary means were denied even basic instruction, while the care of the needy, the sick, the dis-abled, the aged, and the prisoners was entirely dependent on what-ever could be provided by families or individuals. Little wonder that the principal responsibility for transmission of and instruc-tion in the faith heritage devolved on the womenfolk and that, in the face of growing apostasy and indifference, a sound education for women as well as males came to be of crucial importance. Mary Ward, called by a recent historian "the greatest Englishwoman of the 17th century," was born at Mulwith near Ripon, Yorkshire, on 23 January 1585 (shortly before the defeat of the Spanish Armada) and died 30 January 1645 (shortly before the beheading of Charles I at the height of the Civil War). She came from a family noted for its staunch loyalty to the old reli-gion, which had been proscribed in England for more than sixty years. Failure to swear to the Acts of Supremacy and Succession and to attend services weekly in the local Anglican parish church made heads of families liable to imprisonment or even death. Mary's own parents and grandparents and she herself experienced such imprisonment, and several relatives were executed for their faith. The year before her birth, her fellow countrywoman, Margaret Clitherow, had been martyred at York. Like most children in such devout Catholic families, Mary received her early schooling and religious instruction in her own home and in homes of relatives and family friends. During those years she first felt the call to follow Christ in a life consecrated by vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Since the time of Christ and the Apostles (as can be seen in the New Testament), women as well as men had chosen such a way of loving discipleship. From the Middle Ages, too, despite the weight of authority against women's right to education or the exercise of leadership outside their own homes, a surprising quantity of writ-ings by women has survived. Exceptional women like Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine of Siena played prominent roles that changed the course of history, notwithstanding the patriarchalism of church and state. Until the early 17th century, however, women's accepted' mode of service of Christ, apart from that of "helpmeet" Review for Religiotts in marriage, was a lifetime spent in contemplation within monas-teries such as those of Poor Clares and Carmelites. After the dis-solution of religious houses in England, that meant for Englishwomen a lifetime of exile in some foreign climate. Prayerful discernment, as well as natural prudence and obser-vation, convinced Mary that the best way for her to give her life to the service of her "Friend of friends" would be, not marriage, but "some other thing., without all comparison more to the glory of God.-2 Further light came in November 1615 regarding the kind of holi-ness which that "other thing" would require. Rejecting the commonly held view that "women could not do good except to themselves," Mary envisioned a different kind of women's vocation, one engaged in education and other works "congruent to the times." Her institute would be one marked by "a singular freedom from all that could make one adhere to earthly things, with an entire application and apt disposition to all good works." Members would "refer all to God," doing "works of justice. [We would] be such as we appear and appear such as we are . Grounded in this, we should gain at God's hands true wisdom."3 Mary defined what came to be called her concept of "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attach-ment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." Her words for this special kind of holiness ~'evealed to her were "freedom," "justice," and "sincerity" (or "verity"), the qualifies by which we as human beings participate in God's own life of goodness and wisdom, and which, she insisted, we have the right to ask and expect of God. What seems clear is that Mary, considering these three free-doms of "the Just Soul" to be the qualities essential for living out the ideal of Christian holiness as envisioned by Ignatius Loyola, could see nothing to prevent their application to women as well Mary defined "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attachment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." ff'uly-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of V~sdom as men. This became even more explicit in Mary's speech to her companions (1617) describing the virtues required for their way of life, of which a cleric had disparagingly said, "When all is done, they are but women." Mary's speech, because its depth of insight and vision for the future transcend her own institute and pertain to the whole concept of women's discipleship, deserves to be quoted: I would know what you think he meant by this speech . Fervor is a will to do good, that is, a preventing [preve-nient] grace of G~)d and a gift given gratis by God, which we could not merit. It is true [that] fervor doth many times grow cold, but what is the cause? Is it because we are women? No, but because we are imperfect women. There is no such difference between men and women. Therefore, it is not because we are women, but, as I have said before, because we are imperfect women and love not verity. It is not veritas hominum, verity of men nor verity of women, but veritas Domini, and this verity women may have, as well as men.4 Such was the vision that drove Mary Ward (after her two tri-als of the strictest form of women's contemplative life then known, the Poor Clares, both Flemish and English) and her five like-minded companions to cross the English Channel again in 1609. But Mary was a woman not only of vision but of practical common sense and ingenuity as well. Because at-the time both faith and morals were daily being eroded by ignorance and lack of access to the sacraments, the most pressing need seemed to be the provision of instruction for both children and adults. So, at St. Omer in the Catholic Netherlands, where there was a large English refugee population, they began educating, in secular and religious subjects, children of English refugees and the local poor. Their freedom from enclosure and from distinctive religious costume allowed them a helpful flexibility in their min-istry. They would sometimes wear fashionable dress when calling on gentlefolk (such as the archbishop of Canterbury, who had been desirous of meeting these ladies who had done "more harm than six Jesuits"), and sometimes "mean clothing" when visiting the prisoners or the sick (Mary Ward once disguising herself as a maid to gain access to a lady and bring her back to the practice of her faith),s Because adults, too, lacked instruction and often were destitute as well, the sisters extended their ministry to these further needs of those critical times.6 Review for Religious This new concept of religious life, freed of the restrictions of cloister, of government by male superiors, and of older male-inspired Rules, was so revolutionary that it proved both incomprehensible and unacceptable to ecclesiastical authorities steeped in the patriarchal assumptions of centuries. Today, when church and society are still trying to come to terms on the role of women, Mary Ward seems indeed a prophetic woman of wisdom in the Old Testament tradition. Unlike many visionaries, however, this woman had a vigorous practicality about her. What others said, Mary Ward did. Erasmus and Ftnelon said girls should be educated and, if they were above average intelligence, even taught some Latin as the key to all learning (though under male, direction, of course). Mary Ward opened schools in St. Omer, in Rome, and (under the very noses of pursuivants) even in London to provide education for all who desired it and, as far as they could, regardless of social distinctions. Guided but not bound by the Jesuit Ratio studiorum (1599), Mary believed that, since education is for life and a woman's life is not the same as a man's, the content should differ, though a woman's intellectual powers were by no means to be underrated. "God can use only good ones," she said of both teachers and pupils. So, in addition to the liberal arts and, of course, religion, her curriculum included painting, dancing, music (both vocal and instrumental), handwriting, speech training, drama, and modern languages. Language teaching was always a specialty in her schools, and for this no mere smattering would do, but only suf-ficient mastery to read the best authors of each language and to write it well.7 Originally most pupils were English refugees, but, as the schools spread throughout Europe, though English continued to be taught as a second language, the local vernaculars--French, Flemish, German, and Italian--were added. The nuns, who, as Mary Ward's Memorial of 1629 says, included '"Italians, Spanish, French, Germans, Netherlanders, Bohemians, Hungarians, English, and Irish," usually wrote to one another in Latin, Italian, or French (to make things harder for the English government's paid interceptors of mail). Another evidence of the foundress's farsightedness was that the syllabus included, besides the usual subjects, simple mathematics or "accounts." When one recalls that Samuel Pepys, secretary of the royal navy and a university graduate, required special tutoring to master the multiplication Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of VV'tsdom table, this was very avant garde indeed, as was the inclusion of "globes," a combination of geography and astronomy. As her contemporary Richard Mulcaster had urged better training for teachers, so Mary trained hers so well as to attract the favorable notice of civil authorities (according to documents in the Brussels royal archives) and to elicit a request that she set up a training school for others. As prescribed in the Jesuit Ratio stu-diorum, Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. Writing to their novice mistress about two of her young sisters, Catherine and Cecilia, Mary insisted that their Latin studies should have precedence over everything except prayer and, as to fears that such studies would undermine humil-ity, she sensibly added: "This must and will be so common to all that there will be no cause of complaining." As an early memo in the archives expresses it, "The design of gur school being the sanctification of the mistresses who are members of it for the children of their care, they must be. proficient in writing and reading Latin and English."s The consequences of these high standards soon became so widely recognized that, as one Bavarian ecclesiastic expressed it, "The English Ladies. instill into both aristocratic and ordinary children a noble and well-mannered mode of living., so that they are kept with a loving restraint within the limits of good manners and propriety.''9 And, while the harsh treatment of chil-dren in English boarding schools was notorious even down to the 20th century, Mary advised: "In our calling, a cheerful mind, a good understanding, and a great desire after virtue are neces-sary, but of all these a cheerful mind is the most so.''1° Whenever a foundation was made, two schools were opened simultaneously: a boarding school, mainly for English refugee girls, and a free day school, the criteria for both being tractabil-ity, good manners, and the ability to profit from study rather than wealth or social position. In fact, because of the penury of many English refugees, fees were low and often totally remitted; in any case, they seldom kept up with inflation, especially in the countries affected by the Thirty Years' War. For the poorer chil-dren, especially those in the Italian slums, she provided training in skills that would enable them to earn an honest living, so much so that complaints arose that soon there would be none left to run the houses of ill fame. In imitation of what had been done ear-lier by St. Charles Borromeo, her sisters also ran Sunday schools, Review for Religious providing young servants with religious instruction, basic lan-guage skills, and preparation for the sacraments. And in England, where the priests had a price on their heads, both children and adults were made ready to receive the sacraments and opportu-nities were provided for them to do so. For the sake of mission, one member known only to the oth-ers as Sister Dorothea, living like members of modern secular institutes such as the Grail and Focolare, served as maid-com-panion in the home of the wealthy Suffolk gentlewoman Lady Timperley. Her own description of this ministry has a singularly modern ring: "I dare not keep schools publicly, as we do beyond the seas, . . . but I teach and instruct children in the houses of par-ents . Besides teaching of children, I endeavor to instruct the simple and vul-gar sort. I teach them their. Pater, Ave, Creed, Commandments, etc . I tend and serve poor people in their sickness., make salves., endeavor to make peace among those at variance."11 For the apostolate to spread, it soon became apparent that it needed to be put on a permanent basis and also needed official approbation beyond what it had already received from the local church and civil officials. Despite the often vituperative opposi-tion already encountered (especially from certain members of the Society of Jesus and the English secular clergy, who saw in her work a challenge to their authority), Mary set out with some con-fidence to win formal approval for her institute from three suc-cessive popes: Paul v, Gregory xv, and Urban VIII. Despite ill health, poverty, dangers, and cold, she made three trips on foot over the Alps to Rome to plead her cause in person before the committee appointed to examine her Formula instituti (virtually identical with that approved for the Jesuits).~2 But, though she explained at some length her primary purpose ("striving for the defense and propagation of the faith and progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine"), the means (a new kind of women's order without walls or distinctive clothing, engaged in education and other works congruous with the times), and the instruments (women, distinguished by their well-ordered interior disposition and the virtues of freedom, justice, and verity that characterize the "estate of justice"), these were considered dangerously novel ideas Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. ~7~nly-Aug~st 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom bordering on heresy with which the good but somewhat obtuse legalists of the time felt unable tO cope except by denial.~3 The foundress was imprisoned by order of the Inquisition, and the institute's way of life was declared contrary to the nature of women and a danger to morals.~4 The savagely worded bull of suppression of 1631 destroyed her first institute, and its members' vows were declared null and void. They were offered the alternatives of marriage, joining some other established order, or living as individual laywomen under private vows. When Mary pointed out the state of these young women, homeless, penniless, and in times of persecution unable to return to their own country, the pope offered them a house in Rome and, under his personal protection, allowed them to resume teaching in Rome, Naples, Munich, and even London and York.~s Mary herself, exonerated of all heresy, was allowed to return to her native country, where, in the midst of the Civil War, she spent the last six years of her life. She and her com-panions remained true to the institute and loyal in obedience to the church, and they continued to be highly commended by those for whom they worked.16 After her death at just over sixty, her tombstone in the Anglican churchyard at Osbaldwick bore this touching tribute: "To love the poore, persevere in the same, live, die, and,rise again with them, was all the aim of Mary Ward.''~7 How is the wisdom revealed by God to individuals to be rec-ognized when, as happened in the case of the Old Testament prophets and Mary Ward, it runs counter to legitimate authority by anticipating the future? Diversity, according to R.B.Y. Scott in his comprehensive study of biblical wisdom, has always attended this concept's evolution and its exemplars, the prophets, as well.~8 Inevitably, however, there is conflict when the fulfillment of the vision comes up against more limited goals and values and older ways of achieving them. Such was the case in the 17th century when it became increas-ingly apparent that the well-worn structures and familiar modes of acting were insufficient to meet the sudden and unexpected challenges in the church and in the world around it. Many were unable or unwilling to accept the fact that new kinds of service were needed to meet these new challenges. In particular, the attempt of the Council of Trent to turn the clock backward, in the case of women, by insisting on enclosure, distinctive clothing, and subjection to male authority severely hampered efforts to Review for Religious envision new forms of discipleship that would free women for more effective service of the church. Instead, they were con-demned as "pernicious growths" needing to be eradicated. Their apostolate, however, continued to grow fruitfully and to encour-age imitators. When official recognition finally came at the begin-ning of the 20th century, Mary Ward's institute had spread round the world to six continents. That Mary Ward was truly a "woman of wisdom," discerning, from her intimacy with God in prayer, the practical needs of her time and place and addressing herself to meet them with pru-dence and courage, was belatedly affirmed in Vatican II's docu-ment on the appropriate renewal of religious life, Pe~fectae caritatis, which reads in part: All those who are called by God to practice the evangelical counsels., devote themse!ves in a special way to the Lord. ¯ . . The religious life is intended above all else to lead . . . to union with God. [but] the manner of living, praying, and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious and also . . . to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, the social and economic circumstances anywhere, but especially in missionary territories." (§§ 1-3 passim) Marguerite Bourgeoys Marguerite Bourgeoys was born at Troyes in the province of Champagne in 1620, her youth overlapping the latter years of Mary Ward. At an early age she had a similar experience of God's intervention in her life and felt God's gradual imparting of the gift of wisdom. In 1626, to meet the critical need in that war-torn province for religious instruction and care ofthe needy, a saintly priest, Peter Fourier, organized four hundred volunteer laywomen to go out in pairs among the poor. Attached as externs to the cloistered Congregation de Notre Dame de Troyes, they lived lives of prayer as far as their other duties permitted. Under the supervision of Mme. Louise de Chomedey, a sister of Paul de Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, the founder and governor of Montreal, Marguerite became one of three prefects in charge of the group. When her desire for the life of a consecrated religious seemed doomed to frustration (both the Carmelites and another cloistered congregation having rejected her application), she pru-dently sought an experienced guide, M. Gendret, chaplain of the J~dy-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom Carmelites. He advised her, while awaiting further light on God's will for her, to consecrate her life by private vows of poverty and chastity.~9 In the spirit of the much-needed religious renewal initiated in the early 17th century by st. Vincent de Paul, M. Gendret had for some time envisaged a form of consecrated life for women adapted to the needs of the time, with a mobility that existing rules of enclosure did not allow. In Marguerite Bourgeoys he now recognized the spiritual and intellectual qualities that would be necessary to lead such an undertaking. A further providential intervention in her life came with her meeting Sieur de Maisonneuve in the home of his sister Mme. de Chevilly. He was visiting France to gather a hundred recruits to work in Montreal. Explaining the need for one teacher to supply the need of reli-gious instruction for his "foolish adventure," he invited Marguerite's help. Realizing partly what it might involve for her as the only woman among male recruits, Marguerite, after prayer and after consulting her spiritual director and the vicar general of the diocese (who gave the plan their blessing), perceived it to be God's will that she should go. Arriving at Quebec on 22 September 1653 and at Ville Marie (Montreal) on 16 November, she began at once a thorough assess-ment of the needs of her new mission, the (pitifully inadequate) resources to meet them, and the obstacles to be faced (such as inclement weather and threats from hostile Indians). Some notion of the risks may be gathered from the warning sent by the French-born mystic Marie of the Incarnation, of the cloistered Ursulines, who had been teaching both native and French children in Quebec since 1639. Writing to the sisters back in Troyes, she said: "If you knew what Montreal actually is like, you would be very careful about sending religious there . . . because of the harsh conditions of the country.''2° Marguerite and her compan-ions not only endured the cold, hunger, and dangers, but also shared their scanty living quarters with the poor, even giving up their own mattresses and blankets. In early-17th-century France, the notion of women religious engaging in apostolic work was only beginning to emerge. To meet the pressing needs of the spiritually illiterate general pop-ulation and the inadequately trained clergy, St. Francis de Sales and St. Vincent de Paul had enlisted generous, skilled women to serve in education, health care, and social work. At the price of Review for Reh~ious their obtaining ecclesiastical recognition, they had had to com-promise: the Visitandines accepting the restrictions of enclo-sure (and thereby qualifying as a religious order) and the Daughters of Charity becoming a society of apostolic life, a group of pious laywomen living in common under simple vows renewed annually. It was immediately evident to the prophetic insight of Marguerite Bourgeoys that neither alternative was desirable or suitable to meet the needs and living conditions of Montreal. Apart from teaching language skills and religion free of charge to both boys and girls of the French set-tlers and military people, there were native children to be edu-cated; adults to be instructed, counseled, prepared for the sacra-ments; and health needs cared for--along with the constant threat from hostile Indian raiders and rival English colonists to the south. The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school.21 Declaring their readiness to undertake just about anything required to meet the social needs of frontier life, Marguerite and her companions (their number augmented by recruitment on subsequent trips back to France) determined with prudence and divine guidance to take steps to ensure the permanence of their work. The first step, dictated by Marguerite's solid bourgeois back-ground, was to obtain from the king a civil charter permanently entitling them to their place of residence, the abandoned stone stable given them by the governor to serve as their school and as the teachers' living quarters.22 Next they applied to and eventu-ally obtained from Bishop Laval ecclesiastical approval "to teach anywhere in his diocese." In both of these ventures, they received ample support from the laity, whose openhearted response to Marguerite Bourgeoys and her companions' concern for their family life and educational needs was generous and continuous. Evidence of this trust is seen in the young bride on the morn-ing after her wedding coming to weep on Marguerite's shoulder upon finding what was expected of her in marriage, and also in the The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school. ~dy-Augwst 1998 Norman * Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom adoption of a nine-month-old native baby who had been aban-doned by her mother and whom Marguerite cared for till she died at the age of six.23 In their practical attention to every aspect of the life of the church in Montreal, the tiny Congregation de Notre Dame, as they came to be called, was ready to meet needs as they presented themselves: premarriage counseling, witnessing of marriages, vocational training, adult education, home eco-nomics, visiting the sick, and preparing the dead for burial. Though they were intent upon living as religious so far as spirit, purpose, and prayer were concerned, it became increas-ingly apparent that their manner of observing common life and serving as disciples would have to be adapted to frontier condi-tions and to "the strengths and talents of each" rather than to preconceived ecclesial rules of enclosure. "If it is the will of God that I go to Montreal," Marguerite had said in response to Maisonneuve's invitation, "I shall want for nothing.''24 Marguerite's wisdom continued to be manifested in her response to divine guidance and providential care in each new enterprise. Her trust in God's will was, however, severely tested on more than one occasion as the years went on. Though provi-sionally approved by Bishop Laval in May 1669, their lifestyle received his official written approval only as "a community in the state of secular women, that is, not bound by enclosure."~s Their Rule, inspired by M. Gendret, which they had been liv-ing, had still to receive formal approval by the church, and for this Bishop Laval, because of the enclosure problem, was unwilling to apply. As Marguerite's biographer wryly ?emarks, the bishop had difficulty distinguishing between the will of God and that of Francois de Montmorency Laval.26 When, upon her return from France with six new recruits, Marguerite was greeted with the news that her community had disintegrated, she replied with calm confidence in God: "He who brings about its fall can very well raise it up again whenever he pleases.''27 When further contro-versy arose over the admission of new members (born in Canada, not France, and two of them aborigines), she felt no longer trusted and offered to resign. The result was an overwhelming reaffir-mation by the entire community of her leadership and special charism.2s Another aspect of Marguerite Bourgeoys's wisdom is reflected in her response to Laval's criticisms of her choice of new candi-dates and her recourse to experienced persons other than himself Review for Religious regarding the community's Rule. Though submitting with humil-ity, she prudently continued to consult the Sulpician directors of the Grande S~minaire, who fully endorsed her wise decision--a visionary missionary thrust far ahead of her time--not to impose a strange civilization on native converts. Her two guideposts, to imitate our Lady and live in the presence of God, fitted admirably into the concept of discipleship she bequeathed to her sisters as that of following la vie voyagOre of the Blessed Virgin. From M. Gendret's explanations long ago, she recalled the distinctions between the three states in which women could follow Christ and serve the church in these words: that of St. Mary Magdalen. observed by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of St. Martha by the cloistered religious who serve their neighbor; but that the outgoing life of the Blessed Virgin was not honored as it should be, and ¯. even without veil and wimple she could be a true reli-giousfl9 The term vie voyagOre (the equivalent of the modern English phrase "to be a pilgrim") seemed to imply, as Marguerite used it, a certain flexibility and adaptability in the service of others and going out into the world wherever there was need. If the first mark of the truly wise person is charity that reflects her close union with God, then it is especially in time of trial that it can best be judged. Such testing was Marguerite's. First came the disastrous fire of 6-7 December 1683, after which the community was reduced to literal destitution. But, when Bishop Laval seized the occasion to urge them to merge with the clois-tered Ursulines, Marguerite firmly defended the identity of her "journeying sisters," modeled on our Lady, Christ's first disci-ple. 3° When an impasse over business matters occurred, she sim-ply turned the whole matter over in prayer to her patroness with the words "Blessed Virgin, I can do no more.''3~ Again, when a visionary in her own community denounced her publicly as in "a state of damnation" and proposed founding a new institute with herself as head, Marguerite, although ready to acknowledge the possibility of having lost God's friendship, persisted in abandoning herself to his divine justice and charity. Her resignation and her replacement as chief superior by the first Montreal-born member, Marie Barbier, reflected both her humil-ity and her openness of spirit.32 At the same time, in trusting Canadian-born candidates and leadership instead of continuing to July-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom depend on reinforcements from France, she was wisely investing in the permanence of her community in New France. The final ecclesiastical approval of the Rule was again to be made contingent on accepting enclosure, vowing obedience to the bishop, and requiring dowries. Though remaining obedient to the new bishop, Jean Baptiste de Saint-Vallier, Marguerite firmly and prudendy defended her original vision of the congre-gation's members as "daughters of the parish" and of the Blessed Virgin herself as their only superior.33 For the sake of survival, she had for the moment to submit to the bishop, and on 24 June 1698 the sisters finally accepted the approved Rules and next day solemnly pronounced their vows. But before her death (12 January 1700) she took care to record in her spiritual autobiography her original divinely inspired intuitions, 'with shrewd observations based on her lived experience and her hopes and fears for the continued existence of her congregation. Like the Ursulines and many other women's congregations of the Counter-Reformation peribd, this uncloistered community of Montreal agreed to modifications in their original Rule on condition that its underlying principles and, above all, their "out-going life" were not sacrificed. Their charism was summed up in the words of the foundress herself: When he ascended into heaven, our Lord left on earth a type of congregation of women which included all the states. Mary was its first superior . The Blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included all the other things in her own per-son in an eminent degree. She was mother and teacher to the newborn church, which she formed and instructed in all kinds of good, by her words and by her example. Instruction and edification were her principal characteris-tics., particularly to teach in a way that was all the more profitable for everyone [and] within the reach of all.34 Models for Today What did these 17th-century women of wisdom have in com-mon, and of what relevance are their lives to ours on the eve of the 21st century? For answers we need to look at the very human and very universal situation underlying their lives. Each might be described (in terms applied to Joan of Arc by Joan Chittister, an eloquent defender of Christian feminism) as "a model of con-science development, a monument to the feminine relationship to Review for Religious God, and a breaker of the stereotypes that block the will of God."35 In every age, authority figures (usually male) have busied themselves with telling people what they should do, usually cloak-ing their goals in moral terms. Suddenly appears someone-- indeed, a woman!--who has a mission, someone who is bold enough to claim that God has revealed plans to her that may seem outrageous, someone who confronts them with a question greater than they are able or willing to handle and who is pre-pared to fight and even die for it if necessary so that truth may prevail and others may benefit. Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys were such women, role models for all who have heard the voice of God calling them to transcend the limitations of the present and enable freedom, justice, and sincerity (verity) to triumph everywhere and for all time. Notes a Mary Ward's Retreat Notes, 1619, unpublished collection. 2 Cited by Catherine Elizabeth Chambers, Life of Mary Ward, 2 vols. (London, 1882 and 1885), vol. 1, p. 227. 3 Letter to Roger Lee SJ, 1 November 1615, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 346-347. 4 Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 407-408. 5 Chambers, vol. 1, p. 407 and 217-224. 6 Letter of Bishop Blaise, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 319-320. 7 Chambers, vol. 2, p. 531. s Chambers, vol. 2, p. 249. 9Winkler MS, p. 20. ~°Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, p. 468. ~a Chambers vol. 2, p. 27. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. 2, p. 387. 2, pp. 289-290. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 331. a7 Chambers vol. 2, p. 504. as R.B.Y. Scott, Relevance of the Prophets, rev. ed. (Toronto: Collier Macmillan, 1969), p. 13. 19 Patricia Simpson, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Montreal, 1640-166~ (Montreal: McGil!-Queen'~ University Press, 1997), p. 46. ~3~nly~Aug~tst 1998 Norman * Two 17tb-Century Women of l~tsdom 20 Cited by Simone Pgissant CND, Marguer~e Bourgeoys, trans. Frances Kirwan (Montreal: Les Editions Bellarmin, 1982), p. 34. 2~ Simpson, p. 160. z2 Simpson, pp. 117-118, 164-165. 23 Simpson, pp. 109, 126. 24 Poissant, pp. 23-24. 2s Poissant, p. 35. 26 Simpson, p. 175. 27 Poissant, p. 36 . 28 Poissant, p. 43. 29 Letter of Marguerite Bourgeoys to Louis Tronson, September 1693, "Ecrits de M~re Bourgeoys," p. 20, quoted by Elizabeth Rapley, The Dgvotes (McGill: Queen's Press, 1990), p. 101. 30 Poissant, p. 51. 3~ Poissant, p. 52. 32Poissant, pp. 53-55. 33 Poissant, p. 57. 34 Poissant, pp. 49-50. 3s Joan Chittister, A Passion for Life (New York: Orbis Books, 1996), pp. 127-129. Review for Religious MARY ROGER MADDEN A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life M~ther Theodore Guerin founded the Sisters of rovidence at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, Indiana, on 22 October 1840 and left her mark not only: on an extensive reli-gious congregation, but also--through the schools she established and the philosophy of education she fostered--on tens of thou-sands of lay men and women. Born 2 October 1798 in the village of Etables-sur-Mer, in the diocese of Saint-Brieuc, Anne-Th4r~se Gu4rin was the daugh-ter of Laurent Gu~rin, a naval officer in the service of Napoleon, and Isabelle Lefevre Gu~rin. She had two younger brothers, both of whom died in early childhood, and one younger sister, Marie Jeanne. Her mother taught her to read and write and instructed her in the basics of religion. When she was nine years of age, she attended a small school run by a pious laywoman of Etables. Anne- TMr~se learned quickly and was bored by the basic nature of the instruction. She would often slip away to the seashore, hiding herself among the rocks and cliffs. There, contemplating the vast-ness of the sea, she early learned to pray. A distant relative, a young seminarian forced to postpone his education because of the religious upheaval following the Revolution, came to live with the Gu~rin family. He served as Anne-TMr~se's tutor, calling her his "little theologian." Perhaps because of this advanced religious instruction, she was able to receive her first Holy Communion at the early age of Mary Roger Madden SP writes from Christina Hall; Saint Mary-of-the- Woods, Indiana 47876. 3~:uly-August 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out ten. At that time she confided to her confessor that she wished to devote her life to God. The kindly priest told her to pray and to be a good, obedient child and wait for God to open the way for her. The even tenor of the Gu~rin family life was disrupted when Laurent Gu~rin, on his way home to rejoin his family after being demobilized, was attacked by brigands, robbed, and killed. Isabelle, who had already suffered the loss of her father and one brother at sea and of her two infant sons by fire, was traumatized by this latest tragedy. She went into a complete physical and mental decline, leaving Anne-Th~r~se, then sixteen years of age, as the main support of the family. Anne-Th~r~se cared for her younger sister and nursed her mother back to health while supporting the little family with her sewing. She never abandoned her desire to devote her life to God. In 1823, when the younger sister had reached an age when she could be expected to take Anne-Th~r~se's place, Isabelle Gu~rin gave reluctant permission for her elder daughter to enter the Sisters of Providence of Ruill~-sur-Loir. This congregation, dedicated to the education of youth and the care of the sick. poor in their homes, had been founded in 1806 by Jacques-FranFois Dujari~, founder also of the Brothers of Saint Joseph, known today as the Brothers of the Holy Cross. A small and relatively obscure congregation, the Sisters of Providence were struggling to establish themselves in a country still reeling from the aftershocks of the Revolution. Anne-Th~r~se, who was given the name Sister Saint- Theodore, soon became a valued member of the family of Providence. Her novitiate had to be prolonged because she con-tracted typhoid fever as a postulant. When she appeared to be on the verge of death, the physician, frantic to save her, adminis-tered such severe remedies as to leave her with impaired health. Never again was she able to digest solid food. Because of her illness, her reception of the habit had been postponed until 5 September 1826; three days later she was per-mitted to take her first vows. She was sent at once to administer one of the most challenging of their missions in the city of Rennes. In 1828 the sisters elected her a member of the first general coun-cil to Mother Mary Lecor, the superior general, During the years at Rennes and later at Soulaines, her exper-tise as an administrator and a teacher was recognized by the Academy of Angers (Universit~ de France), which awarded her Review for Religious an honorary medallion in recognition of her excellence as an educator. In the summer of 1839, the sisters were gathered at the moth-erhouse for their annual retreat when they received a distinguished visitor. Celestine de la Hailandi~re, bishop of Vincennes in Indiana, came requesting sisters to teach the children of the pio-neers in his diocese. The superiors asked for volunteers from among the mem-bership. Although many sisters volunteered, Mother Mary found no one among them with the qualities nec-essary for the leader of such an expedition. She favored Sister Saint-Theodore, who, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. On being told that the supe-riors would accept the mission only if she would lead it, she agreed to go to Indiana. After a turbulent journey of three months by sailing vessel, river boat, canal boat, and stagecoach, the sisters arrived on 22 October 1840 in a dense forest of Indiana. Located five miles from the fron-tier river town of Terre Haute, the little settlement had been named Saint Mary-of- the-Woods by Simon Brut4~ first bishop of Vincennes. Oral tradition has it that he remarked at the time to one of his com-panions, "You will see what great things will be done here." Arriving that dark, damp October evening, Sister Saint- Theodore and her five companions proceeded at once to the small log cabin that was both the dwelling place of the missionary priest and the temporary church. A partially completed building was intended by the bishop as a convent, but no school had yet been started. Waiting for them at the farmhouse belonging to the Joseph Thralls family were four young women who had come to join them. ~.~ The Thralls family turned over to the ten women one of the two rooms which constituted their home, along with half the loft. There they spent the first winter learning English, preparing classes for the opening of the school, and instructing the new members in the principles of the religious life. In November, Mother Theodore, as she was now known, with Sister Saint-Theodore, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out the help of the bishop and some of the money obtained from friends in France, was able to purchase the Thralls farmhouse for a Convent. She found the building planned for them by the bishop "too grand" for a convent and decided instead to open there a boarding school and academy to be called Saint Mary's Female Institute. In July 1841 classes began with five students, three of whom were not Catholic. Indiana's. educational system was in its infancy in the 1840s. Good education, especially for girls, was at a premium. Mother Theodore set about filling this need by establishing free schools side by side. with the popular female academies which were open to Catholic and non-Catholic alike. Despite her wretched health, she visited the schools regu-larly, traveling in the uncomfortable conditions of the day, in order to encourage and support the sisters. Their educational endeavors were conducted in the primitive one- or two-room buildings that often served as both school and convent. In order to compensate for the harshness of their living conditions, she brought them every summer to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods for rest, relaxation, study, and spiritual retreat. In the midst of her exhausting labors, Mother Theodore. suf-fered from constant humiliations and misunderstanding from her superiors both in France and in North America. At Ruill~ the superiors, who were never able to visit the mission in Indiana, had no concept of what the sisters suffered from the intemperate cli-mate, the bigoted populace, and the poor living conditions. Mother Theodore's frequent letters, though strictly factual, were dis-counted as "romances." It would be years before the superiors rec-ognized all that she had suffered. She, on the other hand, never faltered in her love and devotion to the French congregation and its superiors. In the United States, Hailandi~re was provoked by her resis-tance to his interference with the internal government of the con-gregation. He had told Mother Mary that he wanted the sisters in order that they might establish in his diocese the French reli-gious spirit. He praised their constitutions when he read them in France, but, when Mother Theodore attempted to put them into practice, he seemed to have forgotten his former approval. He wished to ,be the one to decide on the acceptance of postulants and the profession of novices; to move the sisters from mission to mission; to open and close missions (without consulting the sis- Review for Religious ters); and, in general, to act as the major superior of the congre-gation. Most disturbing to Mother Theodore was his desire to conduct all visitations of the missions, confining Mother Theodore to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods. His efforts to remove her from office by holding elections, even in her absence, failed; for the sisters simply united in unan-imously reelecting Mother Theodore. The climax came when, frustrated by her gentle but firm resistance, he went so far as to expel her from the diocese, threatening with excommunication any sister who harbored her or attempted to follow her.- This unjust treatment she bore with remarkable patience. In 1847, at the very hour when she was being expelled, an announcement from Rome arrived, accepting Hailandi~re's resigna-tion as bishop of Vincennes and appoint-ing Bishop Jean Bazin as his replacement. Bazin exonerated her and restored her to her congregatiom Mother Theodore's greatest legacy was the example of her love of God and neighbor, a dynamic self-giving that never flagged or slackened, from her girlhood on Brittany's shores to her death in the midst of the Indiana forest. Only a year before that death, she would write to Sister Saint-Athanase, one of the French sisters who had been a companion of hers in the novi-tiate: "How fortunate we are to have given the days of our youth to that God of love who gives us so much affection, and even more when we are old, infirm, and crippled than when we were young and robust." All her other virtues flowed from this ,one deeply held con-viction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. Her humility makes sense in light of her understanding of the mystery of the incarnation, by which the Second Person of the Trinity, for love of us, came to share our lowly estate. Her confidence in the provi-dence of God was nourished by that love. For her part, she saw the cross that marked her life for over fifty years as the mystic sign by which she rejoiced to return some part of that infinite love. In her concern for the p~oor and the ignorant, in her devo-tion to all her sisters, we see the authentic expression of love of neighbor. The love of God which welled up in her spilled over All her other virtues flowed from this one deeply held conviction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out into the lives of everyone she met. She quickly forgave frailties of human nature that caused her suffering and endeavored to avoid inflicting similar sufferings on others. The last nine years of her life proceeded in relative peace and prosperity. By 1854 the congregation had grown to almost one hundred sisters, who were instructing over one thousand chil-dren in parish schools, academies, and orphanages in Jasper, Vincennes, Madison, Terre Haute, Fort Wayne, Columbus, and Evansville. At the motherhouse she built a four-story brick con-vent to replace the farmhouse in which they had lived since 1840. The heritage of devotion to the education of women contin-ues to be cherished by the Sisters of Providence down to the pres-ent day, when Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College, the oldest Catholic liberal arts college for women in the United States, stands on the site of that first small academy. Physically debilitated by her trials and the hardships of a pio-neer life, Mother Theodore died on 14 May 1856. Reports of her holiness of life spread both during her life and after her death. In December 1908 Francis Silas Chatard, bishop of Indianapolis, instituted proceedings for her canonization. On 11 July 1992 Pope John Paul II, in the name of the church, proclaimed the heroic virtue exhibited by the Servant of God, according her the title Venerable. On 7 July 1997 he formally accepted the first-class miracle needed for the process of beatification to go for-ward. The date of her arrival at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, 22 October, will be celebrated as the feast of Blessed Mother Theodore Guerin, who said of her own life: "This is the path traced out by the providence of God. I follow it." According to Jean-Baptiste Caussade, "The life of each saint is the life of Jesus Christ. It is a new gospel." As we study the gospel God has written in the life of this valiant woman, we are confirmed in our confidence in the mysterious ways of God, which continue to instruct and enlighten us. Bibliography Belsen, Sister Anita Cotter, SP. Soitvenir of the Fiftieth Anniversary or Golden Jubilee of Saint Mary's Academic Institute. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1891. Brown, Sister Mary Borromeo, SP. History of the Sisters of Providence, Vol. I. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1949. Burton, Katherine. Faith Is the Substance. New York: Herder, 1959. Review for Religious Gonner, Sister Laurence, SP. "A History of the First Fifty Years of the Sisters of Providence in America." Master's thesis, Loyola University, Chicago, 1933. Guerin, Mother Theodore. Journals and Letters of Mother Theodore Gudrin. ed. S. Mary Theodosi